A plea...

Lyanna

I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling, my head still racing with thoughts that I have tried so futilely to push away.

Now I'm here all alone, jobless– completely jobless (as though I have a worse adjective for it, tch).

Save for the good heart of Irene, I'm sure I would have been bitter with depression.

Fortunately for me, my father's credit card saved me from a great deal. Irene took me shopping, we bought groceries, some clothes, and a little cutlery. As for house furniture– well.. I've been living off Irene.

If that's a good way to put it. Sighs deeply.

I breathe in deeply, my head pounding a little, "Oh well, I'll be fine. I just have to find another job, I guess."

This time, I am not taking recommendations from Irene! No way I'm standing in front of another Skyscraper, I don't have any papers on me!

A knock on the door snaps me out of my little thoughts. I arch my brow. Who is that? Irene never knocks before she enters my room, so this isn't her.. right?

"Who is it?" I yell.

No response.

Oh, some sassy little princess we got outside my room?

"Who is it?" I repeat, but still no reply.

"Someone's definitely playing with me today," I bite my lips, "I'm so not ready for this."

I slip out of bed, my heart suddenly pounding erratically.

What is this I feel?

I turn the door knob, opening the door. My eyes fall on a well-built figure.

Prince charming at my door?

I slowly raise my head to meet a fierce pair of icy blue eyes looking down at me.

"Hello," he coughs slightly.

Hold on.. this man is familiar–

Lucina's bodyguard!

His black hair is slicked back, giving him a more professional look than the last time I saw him. For some reason, his skin looks even more tanned, and.. I don't know, he just radiates.. uhm I can't say.

"Miss Lyanna Sanders, am I correct?" He narrows his eyes.

My lips turn downwards in disapproval, "Yes, and how do you know my name? What do you want?"

He sighs, blowing a strand of hair from his perfectly framed face.

"Told you I would find her," a small smirk creeps onto his face, "You owe me big time, Lulu."

Then it hits me. Honey and vanilla.

That scent, it's him. He found me!

My jaw drops as I feel every vein in my body go stiff, my heart resuming its erratic beating.

I slowly whip my head to the side, and there he is. Lucien, standing pretty by the side, his hands shoved in his pockets as if nothing else in the world matters to him.

"Yes, yes, thank you. Now leave us alone," he growls.

His bodyguard, who doesn't seem to be his bodyguard anymore, nudges his shoulder, giving him a knowing grin, before walking away.

Suddenly, I wish he didn't walk away, I wish he was still here with us. I don't want to be left alone with this damned man.

Silence. Loud silence falls upon us, slicing through the air with a kitchen knife.

I don't want to say anything to him, I didn't even want to see him, so why the heck is he standing here? How did he even find me?

"You would at least give your visitor some respect and let me in?" He tilts his head to the side.

I grimace, gripping the doorknob; I didn't realize I have been clutching.

"You are not welcome here," I snarl at him, my eyes wide with rage and disgust... maybe.

He takes a step forward, his hands still resting in his pockets.

Just how relaxed is he?

"Just let me, don't make me talk too much," he is now standing close to me.

"No. Go back to wherever you came from," i still stand my ground, refusing to shrink before him.

He finally lets his hand out, and pats my head, "You're such a stubborn sweetheart. It's cute sometimes," he pushes past me, into my room.

I swirl around, shaken by his audacity, "Excuse me? This is clearly trespassing, you know that?"

He doesn't reply to me. Instead, he is busy checking out my room.

"Hmm, what a small bed you have," he drawls, "Are you even around comfortable here?"

"That is none of your business, please leave," I hold my head, the frustration getting a better of me.

Can this man leave me alone?

"I ain't leaving till I establish why I came here. You don't just chase visitors away," he finally turns around to face me.

He stands there towering over me, his grey eyes flicking with whatever emotions they chose to let cross.

"You didn't have to quit. We could have sorted things out," he twists his lips, his voice dropping an octave.

"I couldn't stand you. I still can't, but I don't have that time to contend with you, okay?" I cross my arms across my chest, still feeling violated.

He rolls his eyes, then whips out an envelope from his blazer's inner pockets.

"Come back," he stretches the envelope towards me, "It's a plea," he adds.

Oh please.

"Nope. I'm good just the way I am," I shrug my shoulders.

"With the way I'm seeing things, you definitely are far from good. You need help," he steps closer.

How dare he think of me as a beggar?!

"I'm not begging you for anything, stop this facade of charity," I grit my teeth, shaken by his rudeness.

His shoulders slump, "I wonder why you're trying to be so difficult towards me. I'm only doing you a favor, come on."

"You–" I catch myself before I can throw an insult at him, "Get out of here, or I'll alert the neighbours that you're harassing me."

He tilts his head to the side, "You really want to be like this?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Lyanna..."

"No," I cut him short, "Why do you even care? I thought you hated me? Why is my absence bothering you?"

He pauses, his hand falling by his side, his neck slightly titling downwards.

"Please leave me alone," I clasp my hands together.

He doesn't answer me, he just stands there, his gaze still downwards.

"I don't care what you say, I want you back in the office," he finally speaks up, whipping his head back up.

He closes the distance between us, slipping the envelope in my hand, "Tomorrow, you should be in there. If I don't see you there, I'll come here whisk you off to the office, and force you to live with me."

"What in the world?" I gawk at his words, "I don't want to be..."

He presses his fingers to my lips, "Shh. I just don't want you so far away. Be close to me."

My throat hitches, then a gust of air just forces its way down, causing me to choke.

Wait, what now?

He straightens himself, "I don't know how many times you want me to reinforce that."

"But you hate me, and I hate you too."

His words must have been like a slap to his face because he tenses, and his lips form a thin line.

He swirls around, "See you tomorrow Miss Sanders."