UNSPOKEN FEELINGS

The morning started like any other in the Underworld. The halls buzzed with quiet murmurs and the clinking of silverware in the distance, interrupted only by the steady shuffle of robed figures going about their duties. But for Evelyn, everything felt different—sharper, heavier.

She carried a silver tray delicately, a small kettle of tea resting atop it with a porcelain cup. The walk to Lucian's chamber felt longer than usual. It wasn't the distance. It was the tension pulling at her chest, the thousand questions she didn't dare say aloud.

Lucian had been acting distant lately. Detached. Not cold—but unreachable. She had always seen him as a man tied to duty, anchored by unshakable loyalty to the crown. But something had shifted.

It wasn't just Velma's presence.

It was something deeper. Something Evelyn couldn't understand. And yet, here she was, walking to him again with tea and thoughts she didn't know how to silence.

When she reached his door, she took a breath and knocked gently.

There was no answer—only silence.

She pushed it open slowly.

Lucian was sitting at his desk, papers and scrolls sprawled before him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, one hand tangled in his tousled hair. The morning light streaming from the window painted gold along his skin, catching in the curve of his jaw, the arch of his brow.

He looked tired.

Tired… and beautiful.

She walked in without speaking, setting the tray gently on a nearby table. Her fingers lingered on the handle a moment too long, and she turned to leave, still wordless.

"Evelyn."

His voice stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly.

Lucian was already standing, his eyes locked on hers.

"I've been trying to stay away from you," he said softly, his voice a rasp against the silence.

She blinked, unsure what to say. "Why?"

He took a step forward, his boots whispering against the floor. "Because every time I see you, something inside me starts to unravel."

Evelyn's throat tightened.

"I've always known what I was—what I had to be. The perfect shadow behind the King. A protector. An enforcer. A weapon, even." His voice wavered slightly, but his gaze never left hers. "But when you're around, I remember I'm something more than that."

Her breath caught in her chest.

"I remember I'm a man," he said. "A man who wants things. Who dreams of things. Things like you."

She didn't speak. Couldn't. She could barely breathe.

"I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about the smallest things," Lucian continued. "How you get excited over new books and blush when someone compliments your hair. I love how you care so deeply—how you'd give kindness to even the cruelest soul in this place."

Her hands trembled by her side.

"I love the way you challenge me, tease me, remind me I'm not invincible. That I don't have to be. With you, I don't have to wear the armor all the time."

He stepped even closer now.

"You don't see me as just the King's right hand," he said. "You see me. Lucian. The man who forgets his place around you."

Evelyn felt her eyes sting.

"I've watched you every day. Every time you smile at me, I feel like I'm coming home to something I never had," he whispered. "You've been here this whole time, and yet I've been a coward."

Lucian reached out, gently cupping her face in his rough, calloused hands.

"I've wanted to say this for a long time. I love you. Not from a distance. Not like a secret. But as something real, Evelyn. Something that could be beautiful."

Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them.

He brushed one away with his thumb, leaning in slowly—giving her time to pull away.

But she didn't.

She rose on her toes, closing the distance, their lips meeting in a kiss that shattered the silence between them.

It was slow at first. Tender. Like a promise spoken in a language older than words. His lips moved against hers with reverence, as if afraid she might disappear.

But as the moment deepened, so did the kiss.

It grew urgent. Fierce.

His arms wrapped around her waist, drawing her against him. One hand buried itself in her hair, the other caressed her back. Evelyn's hands clutched at his shirt, fingers digging into his chest, anchoring herself to the moment.

Lucian's lips moved with hunger. With longing. With every emotion he'd kept buried deep under the weight of loyalty and fear.

But even in his passion, he didn't cross the line.

He lingered—explored—but never took.

He worshipped.

And when they finally pulled apart, gasping for breath, Evelyn's cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes dazed.

She looked up at him, her hands trembling slightly.

"I wasn't expecting that," she whispered.

Lucian smiled—softer than she'd ever seen him smile.

"You deserve it," he said. "You deserve to be wanted. To be loved. Not just in passing. But with the fullness of someone who sees you for everything you are."

She blushed harder, biting her lip, and lowered her gaze.

"You're… dangerous when you talk like that," she whispered, voice trembling.

"Only for you," he replied, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

They stood like that in silence—two souls who had hidden their hearts behind masks for far too long.

Evelyn, the cheerful maid who gave more than she ever received.

Lucian, the silent guardian who had finally allowed himself to want.

And now they stood here, together, in the eye of the storm.

Not knowing what the future held.

But certain of one thing.

They had each other now.

And no one could take that moment away from them.

---