Her picture on the bed?

Gianna pushed the door open, stepping into the room that was once hers—Brianne's.

It was exactly how she remembered it. A medium-sized space, not lavish but still cool in its own way. The walls were painted a shade of maroon, a color she had chosen herself years ago, and it still remained her favorite color to this day.

A wooden desk sat near the window, cluttered but not messy, with a few old notebooks, pens, and a dusty globe that hadn't been touched in a long time. The bed, a simple wooden frame with a soft but slightly worn-out mattress, was neatly made, the faded gray sheets still carrying the scent of fresh laundry.

But beneath that clean, familiar scent, there was something else. A faint trace of cologne, very familiar.

Mint.

Lucas.

The bed smelled so much like him.

"Why was he even here?" She couldn't help but find this stranger than she had initially thought. Why was he sleeping on her bed? What exactly was going on? She couldn't even formulate a hypothesis because she wasn't sure of anything. She felt lost, thrown into a dark jungle of unanswered questions.

Shaking the thought away, she turned her attention back to the room.

A tall bookshelf stood against the far wall, filled with novels, old scripts, and a few childhood books she had never had the heart to throw away. She ran her fingers over the spines absentmindedly, a ghost of a smile on her lips as several memories surfaced—late nights reading under a dim lamp, scribbling notes in the margins, dreaming of a future she had once envisioned, had achieved but now lost.

Life… really…

She turned away and started dusting. It wasn't that bad… In fact, it almost seemed as if Lucas had gone through them since they seems so clean that she felt her action were simply redundant.

Once she was done cleaning the floor, her arms ached badly. She couldn't help but jump onto the bed for a moment, sighing at the relief it brought to her sore muscles. But as she did, the movement caused the pillow to shift slightly.

"What's that?" she muttered to herself as the edge of a picture peeked out.

Gianna tilted her head, reaching out to pull the photo free. The moment her eyes landed on it, they slowly became widened in shock.

The woman in the picture had a glamorous appearance. A sweet smile graced her lips as she leaned against a tree. She was wearing a simple white dress, yet she looked effortlessly stunning.

It was her.

When she was Brianne.

Gianna's fingers traced the edge of the photo, her brows furrowing deeply. "Why does he have my picture?" she whispered to herself, confusion settling like a weight in her chest.

Before she could think any further, a cold voice snapped her out of her daze.

"What are you doing?"

The picture was snatched from her hand before she could react.

She was too shocked to move—she hadn't even heard any footsteps. It was as if he had appeared out of thin air.

With the photo hidden behind him, Lucas's sharp gaze locked onto her. "What are you doing here?" His voice was even colder than before, scrutinizing her. Her forehead was damp with sweat, and her face was flush pink, her eyes a mixure of shock and awareness.

Gianna swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm her skin felt from the cleaning. "Uh, I came to clean," she responded quickly, raising the damp cloth in her hand.

Lucas gave her a slow once-over, his expression unreadable. "Are you really the cleaner?"

Gianna didn't flinch. "Of course, I am."

"I have trouble believing you," he murmured, shaking his head. Then, without warning, he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it off.

He had just finished a workout, and his toned muscles glistened with a faint sheen of sweat. His well-defined abs and sharp collarbones were clear evidence of his rigorous training—each curve and contour of his body radiated raw strength.

Gianna swallowed hard. She knew he worked out, but no one told her he looked this sexy without clothes on. He was so attractive that she couldn't avert her gaze.

"Like what you see?" His voice snapped her out of daze.

"You shouldn't have undressed in front of me," she said, quickly looking away.

"Undressed?" He smirked. "Is this what you call undressing?"

"It is," she replied, serious as ever.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, something flickering behind his obsidian eyes. She reminded him of someone… Someone so close to him, someone that made him this way.

That person had always been like this—seemingly serious, yet the sweetest soul he had ever met.

The memory brought an unfamiliar tightness to his chest, and without another word, he turned away. "You don't need to clean the bedroom next time. I'll do it myself."

Gianna blinked. "Oh… why?" She couldn't resist asking.

Lucas shot her a side-eye that made her shut her mouth instantly.

As she picked up her cleaning supplies and made her way toward the door, she hesitated for a brief moment.

"Why do you have that picture?" Her voice was softer this time, almost hesitant.

Lucas paused, his gaze flickering toward the photo now hidden beneath his discarded shirt. Without turning back, he gave her the answer she didn't expect.

"Because she's my girlfriend. Haven't I told you that already?"

Silence filled the room.

Gianna stood frozen, gripping the cloth in her hand. After a long pause, she finally spoke again.

"Are you sure?"

This time, Lucas turned on his heels, his cold gaze meeting hers.