How To Love✓

33.

Lucien

She didn't age at all. Still had her fiery dark raven hair, her porcelain skin still pale as ever. She walks over to us, her red spaghetti strap dress swaying in the opposite direction and her silver ankle heels clicked irritatingly on the marble floor.

"Lucien King. How are you my dear?" she squeaks in a high pitched voice, thinking that I was going to be affected as I was before. She held her hand out for me to acknowledge her, but I brushed it off, making her look like a fool.

"Clarissa, I'm good, been good," I greet lamely.

"What's with this cold attitude? I don't deserve this. I thought we were friends?" she pouts making her lipstick smudge a little.

"We were never friends. I was nothing more than a submissive to you. Stop making a bigger fool out of yourself," I sneer, earning a smirk.

"You can't act like you didn't enjoy it."

I scoff. "You seduced and abused me."

"Our relationship ended years ago Lucy."

Someone clears their throat beside me and I remember that Amara is standing right in the heat of the argument. "I'm Amara. Nice to meet you." she greets politely. Too innocent.

Clarissa moves her eyes off of me and to the small girl. "Clarissa De La Fosse. You're his next dominance? Though you're quite tiny to be controlling."

"Excuse me?" Amara asks in confusion.

"I expected....bigger from you Lucien. Enjoy the rest of your night," she twinkles her long fingers and walks off into the other direction.

Amara

"Who is she?" I ask a bit flabbergasted. How dare her? What did I do to aggravate her? Submissive?

Lucien looked to me with pleading eyes. I adjust the oxygen tank on my shoulder cross my arms, awaiting an answer.

"Lucien if you don't answer me I swear to God I am leaving," I say crossly.

He sighs and glimpses around the people.

"Do you trust me?" he pleas.

I nod. "I trust you to be with you Lucien."

He takes my hand and leads me to the far back of the dining hall, where a flight of steps took us to the second floor. Just on the right at the first door, he slowly opens it and flicks the light switch on. I was hot on his heels. I'm guessing it was his room.

My words curdle into nothing at the sight of a properly well organized room greeting me–clothes placed orderly into their perspective drawers, the king sized bed neatly made to perfection, ebony walls stood sturdy to hold up a designed ceiling, a smaller chandelier hung in the middle. Accompanying the room were two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureau--with a mirror--and a small table.

Accenting the dormer windows were drapery curtains that complimented the wall colour, no pictures on the wall. On the night stand was a simple photo of Lucien and his parents who all smiled widely for a family photo.

I rest the photo back in its place and turn around on my heels. "Why'd you br-" I stop abruptly, eyeing the shirtless boy who stood watching me.

"Why'd you take off your shirt?"

"Do you trust me?" he asks again.

"Of course I do," I take his hands in mine, "I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me Lucien. I'm here for you, aren't I?"

He takes a deep breath and begins. "Things were tough when it was just my mother and I alone. Clarissa took me in when I ran away from home, only a teenaged boy. She treated me fairly and gave me what I wanted; both business and pleasure. I was pleased for a while, until....."

"Please go on," I urge him and he nods. "Until she abused me."

My hands flew up to cover my mouth and my puffy eyes widened. "Oh my God," I choke out.

"That was wrong. I admit," he says.

"It's all wrong. All of this is wrong. She can't...come back into your life and pretend like she wasn't an abuser!"

He slaps his hand angrily against his chest and points all over. "These tattoos, they're concealing deep, dark secrets I always hoped to keep in forever. They hide treacherous scars that would mark me for a lifetime," he spits and drives his nails through the skin. I quickly bring my hand up to stop his actions.

"She taught me how to become independent and malignant on my own. I left."

"What was the reason why you left?"

"She wanted more. I didn't. So I ended it. I left and went back home, my mother sent me halfway across the world and I moved on. Never heard from her in 4 years. She had a breakdown."

"So that what you meant when you said that you hurt people? You hurt your mother?"

"I put her through the same thing my father put her through. Pain. Every time I look at him, I see me, which is why I hate him and I hate myself."

"What does she want now?" so many questions whirled through my thoughts but I knew it wasn't the right time to ask him.

He shrugs. "Honestly, I have no idea."

"A-A-Am-m I a sub, to you?" I stutter.

His eyes widen. "No. God no. You're more than that to me princess. You're not some toy that I'll use and discard when your value is done. You give me everything I ever wanted and I NEVER want you to change."

"I can't believe you would put yourself through that," I tried fighting the tears but I was too weak to.

"It was my choice Amara. But hey," he tilts my chin up to look at him. I dart my eyes anywhere but to his. "Amara look at me," he pleas.

"Whenever I do, I see your pain and I can't do anything about it," my voice cracks. He caresses my cheeks, wiping away the harsh tears. He places my hand where the lining of the scar is and I trail my fingers over the coarse skin.

"You are not your father Lucien. Sure you may have done stupid things in life but in you, I see a man of growth and power and resilience. You are a changed person, trying so hard to love the world for what it is, knowing how messed up it is. You put all of us first, when you can't even take care of yourself. You are someone I admire, so please give yourself credit," I say solemnly, resting both palms on his chest.

"You want to know me? This is the real me," he passes my fingers along his chest, to the middle of his toned stomach and ended over his waist. "This is me."

"I can live with this," I whisper, pulling myself closer to him and connecting our lips together.

"Then I'm all yours."

***

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