The morning air was crisp, the kind that carried the scent of damp earth and pine. Evelyn expected to find Lucien in the kitchen like usual, making breakfast with his precise, effortless movements. But as she descended the stairs and peeked inside, the kitchen was empty.
Frowning, she stepped outside.
Lucien sat on the front steps of the cabin, staring into the distance. His posture was relaxed, but something about him seemed... off.
For the first time, he looked lost in thought.
Evelyn hesitated. She had seen him fight without hesitation, move with the precision of someone who never let his guard down. Yet, right now, he seemed unaware of her presence—a rare moment of vulnerability.
Curious, she walked over and sat beside him, careful not to startle him.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.
Lucien didn't answer at first. His gaze remained fixed on the treetops, his jaw tight as if weighing his words. Then, at last, he murmured,
"Nothing important."
Evelyn scoffed. "You always say that. But I don't buy it."
Lucien finally turned to look at her. His eyes, usually unreadable, held something different today—something distant, as if he were seeing something beyond this place.
"It's... strange," he admitted, almost reluctantly. "I don't usually stop to think about things. But lately, I have been."
Evelyn tilted her head. "Is that a bad thing?"
Lucien didn't reply. He only looked back toward the trees, his fingers lightly tapping against his knee—an absent-minded movement, something Evelyn had never seen him do before.
And for some reason, it made her want to tease him.
She nudged his shoulder with hers. "Careful, if you think too much, you'll get wrinkles before you turn thirty."
Lucien shot her an unimpressed look, but before he could retort—he smiled.
It was small, barely noticeable, but Evelyn caught it. Her eyes widened in shock.
"Oh my god. Was that an actual smile?" she gasped dramatically. "Wait, wait—hold still. I need to record this rare phenomenon."
Lucien exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if regretting ever entertaining her nonsense. But she saw it—the hint of amusement in his eyes.
And suddenly, she wanted to see more of it.
---
As the day went on, an idea formed in Evelyn's mind.
She couldn't rely on Lucien to protect her forever. Even if he never said it, she knew she was a liability to him.
So, later that afternoon, she turned to him and said, "Teach me something."
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Something?"
"Self-defense." She folded her arms. "I don't want to be a burden."
For a moment, Lucien seemed like he would refuse. But then, after a pause, he simply said, "Fine."
They moved to the open space in front of the cabin. The lesson started with basic techniques—how to break a grip, how to shift her weight properly. Lucien's instructions were sharp, efficient, and his movements almost effortless.
He was terrifyingly natural at this.
But just as she was getting the hang of it, she miscalculated her stance.
Her foot slipped, and before she could react, Lucien caught her.
For a brief moment, their bodies were pressed close. His grip was firm but not rough, his touch warm against her arms.
Evelyn's breath hitched.
Lucien's face was right in front of hers, close enough that she could see the flecks of silver in his cold blue eyes.
The air between them grew heavy.
Evelyn quickly pulled back, clearing her throat. "That was... an accident."
Lucien let go of her just as quickly, stepping back. "You're reckless."
But Evelyn saw it—the way his fingers flexed slightly, as if he was trying to shake off the feeling.
And an idea took root in her mind.
---
That night, Evelyn lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.
She was thinking about him.
About that smile. About the way he caught her today. About how, for just a second, he hadn't looked like an unshakable force.
Lucien always seemed untouchable, but today... today she saw something else.
And she wondered—if I push him, will he react?
A slow, mischievous smile curled on her lips.
Maybe she should test the ice and see if she could make Lucien Falkner break.
---
The First Move
The next morning, Evelyn woke up earlier than usual. She had a plan.
Lucien was in the kitchen, finishing up breakfast. He barely glanced at her when she entered, focused on plating the food.
Evelyn walked up behind him and—without warning—wrapped her arms around his waist.
She felt Lucien freeze.
His entire body went rigid, his hands stopping mid-motion.
"What are you doing?" His voice was calm, but there was a noticeable pause between his words.
"Hugging you."
Lucien turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
Evelyn smirked against his back. "Because I want to."
Silence.
Lucien didn't push her away. He didn't move at all. But Evelyn could feel the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his muscles flexed as if unsure whether to escape or stay still.
She waited.
One second.
Two seconds.
And then—he sighed.
"You're an idiot," he muttered, shaking his head slightly.
Evelyn grinned, resting her chin on his shoulder. "And you're not stopping me."
Lucien exhaled sharply, finally pulling away. "Eat your breakfast."
Evelyn laughed, watching as he walked off, his usual composed demeanor just slightly cracked.
And she realized—this was going to be fun.
---
The Final Test
Later that night, as they sat by the fire, Evelyn decided to take things further.
She stretched her arms lazily, then leaned against Lucien's shoulder.
He stiffened again, but didn't push her away.
Emboldened, she tilted her head slightly toward him. "You know, you're surprisingly warm for someone who acts like a block of ice."
Lucien sighed. "Do you ever stop talking?"
"Nope."
Another silence. Then—Lucien did something unexpected.
He didn't push her away. He didn't move.
Instead, he simply let her stay.
Evelyn felt a small victory settle in her chest.
Lucien Falkner, the untouchable, unshakable force—was starting to crack.
And she was just getting started.
---
End of Chapter 32