“No,” I say dryly. “Because otherwise we’re technically just littering.”
Lucien lets out a quiet laugh.
“Great,” he says. “So instead of emotional closure, we’ve committed environmental crime.”
“Exactly.”
He watches the river again. “We should probably be punished for it.”
“For polluting a river with our emotional baggage?”
“Yes.”
I nod solemnly. “That feels fair.”
The laugh that escapes him is softer this time, warmer. For a moment the heaviness between us loosens. The river moves quietly beside us, lanterns drifting like small floating stars. Then the laughter fades. When I look at him again, Lucien is already looking at me. Not casually. Something in his expression has changed. The warmth in his eyes has deepened into something steadier, more intense. It settles over me slowly, like heat.
“You know,” he says quietly, “you’re worth more than you give yourself credit for.”
The words land somewhere deep in my chest. I don’t know what to do with them. No one has said something like that to me in a long time. Not like this. Not like they actually meant it. The lantern lights flickers across his face. He’s still watching me.
Waiting.
My chest aches again, but this time it isn’t from anger or grief. Because part of me wants to step closer. Part of me wants to believe him but another part of me knows exactly how easily people can ruin each other. I hold his gaze, caught somewhere between wanting and resisting. Because the truth is, I’m not sure what would be worse.
Him ruining me.
Or me ruining him.
For a moment neither of us moves. The river glows beside us, lanterns drifting slowly into the dark. Lucien studies me like he’s trying to memorize something. Then, slowly, he reaches for my hand. His fingers close around mine. Anchored and calm. The touch sends a quiet spark up my arm. He lifts my hand slightly and presses his lips against the back of it.
The gesture is gentle. Almost old-fashioned. But the way his eyes stay on mine while he does it makes my pulse stumble. When he lowers my handagain, his fingers brush against my wrist before he lifts his other hand and tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.
His touch lingers just long enough to make the moment feel quietly intimate. “Tell me to stop,” he says softly. It doesn’t sound like a challenge. It sounds like permission. My heart is beating too fast now.
“Lucien…” I whisper. The question sitting between us finally slips out. “Should we be doing this?”
He exhales quietly, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “I think,” he says, voice low, “we’re way past that question.”
The honesty of it hits me harder than anything else tonight. And before I can think, before I can talk myself out of it, I step closer and kiss him. The moment our lips meet, it feels like striking a match.
Everything ignites.
His hand moves instantly to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as he kisses me back. Not hesitant. Not careful.
Hungry.
The world around us disappears. The river, the lanterns, the quiet voices behind us, everything fades into the background.
All I feel is heat.
His other hand slides around my waist, pulling me against him until there’s no space left between us. My body reacts before my mind can catch up, electricity racing through every nerve. The kiss deepens, urgent and consuming. Like something we’ve both been holding back all night has finally broken loose. He moves us intensely backward until my back meets the rough bark of the tree behind me.
His hand stays at my waist, steadying me while his hardness pressed tightly between my thighs. His hardness pressed harder against my mound, while kissing me, sending my mind into a dizzying spin. More intoxicating was the way he rounded his back as he thrust his hips forward, pressing more against me. The tip of his nose grazed mines, sending a shiver of goosebumps across my skin that hardened my nipples.
“You’re so beautiful, Sera,” he whispered. “Fuck, I want you so badly.”
He wanted me.
