Chapter 31 - Unraveling the Ice

The night was calm, the distant sound of rustling trees filling the quiet air. Evelyn sat on the cabin's wooden porch, arms wrapped around herself as she stared up at the sky. The stars were barely visible through the thick winter clouds, and a gentle breeze made her shiver slightly.

Her gaze flickered to Lucien, who was leaning against the railing, completely still, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings as if expecting something—or someone—to appear.

Even now, in this peaceful moment, he looked tense.

Evelyn exhaled. "You know... you're really bad at this whole 'relaxing' thing."

Lucien didn't turn to her, but his expression remained unreadable. "I'm used to staying alert."

"Yeah, I figured," she muttered, pulling her knees up to her chest. "You always wear dark colors, you barely talk unless necessary, and you look like you're constantly on edge. You don't even sit unless you have to."

Lucien finally glanced at her. "It helps me blend in."

Evelyn chuckled. "Well, congrats, you're failing at that. You stand out too much, even when you try not to."

Lucien merely tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating her words. He didn't argue back. For once, he let the conversation flow without shutting it down.

That was progress.

---

Dinner was quiet, but not awkward. Evelyn watched as Lucien set down his utensils after finishing his meal, his movements precise and calculated as always. Then, as he reached for a glass of water, she noticed it—a faint scar on his shoulder, just barely peeking out from the collar of his shirt.

Her fingers gripped her fork slightly tighter. "That scar... how did you get it?"

Lucien didn't even glance down. "Training."

Evelyn frowned. "Training or torture?"

There was no immediate answer. Lucien simply continued eating, his face betraying no emotions.

Evelyn felt a sudden pang of frustration—not at him, but at whoever did this to him.

"You know," she said after a moment, "not all scars are just physical."

Lucien's eyes flickered toward her, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he picked up his plate and walked to the sink.

---

Later that night, as they were cleaning up, Evelyn happened to glance outside—and her lips parted in surprise.

"Lucien!" She grabbed his wrist before he could leave the kitchen. "Look!"

Lucien followed her gaze to the window, where soft white flakes were beginning to fall, dusting the cabin's surroundings in a layer of fresh snow.

Evelyn practically lit up. "It's snowing."

Lucien remained neutral. "It does that in winter."

She gave him a flat look before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door. "Come outside."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I said so," she shot back, already opening the door and stepping out onto the porch.

Lucien hesitated for a fraction of a second before following.

Evelyn lifted her hands toward the sky, letting the cold flakes melt against her skin. "This is beautiful," she sighed. "Tell me you at least feel something right now."

Lucien stared at her, then at the snow falling around them. "...Cold."

Evelyn groaned. "You're impossible."

She turned toward him, watching as the dim porch light illuminated his sharp features. For the first time, she noticed something—Lucien didn't know how to enjoy moments like these.

She took a small step closer.

Lucien didn't move away. He simply watched her.

Evelyn slowly lifted a hand, as if to touch his face—but before her fingers could make contact, Lucien took a step back.

"Don't do that," he said quietly.

Evelyn blinked. "...Why?"

Lucien's expression was unreadable. After a long pause, he finally answered, "Because I don't know how to respond to it."

Evelyn felt something shift in her chest.

He wasn't rejecting her. He was just... lost.

Lucien Falkner, the cold, untouchable enigma, had no idea how to handle warmth.

For once, Evelyn didn't push him. She simply smiled, stepping back as well. "You'll figure it out someday."

Lucien didn't reply. But for the first time since they arrived here, he didn't look as guarded.

---

Later that night, Lucien lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling. His body was still, but his mind was anything but.

For years, he had operated in a world where attachments were a liability, where emotions were weapons waiting to be used against him.

But Evelyn was different.

She was coming too close, too fast.

And the strangest part?

He wasn't stopping her.

Meanwhile, in her room, Evelyn lay awake, a small smile on her lips.

For the first time, she felt like she was peeling back the layers of Lucien Falkner.

And she wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

---

End of Chapter 31