On the pathway back to the surface, Luca braced himself for the lake's usual revenge. It never came. The water brushed his clothes, cool and present, but it didn't dump algae on him or soak him the way it always did.
"I knew it'd eventually warm up to me," Luca muttered.
He stayed behind Zayn again as requested. The walk felt shorter; the turns were the same. The stones were the same. Even the crack shaped like a heart was there, yet the path ended sooner.
Once at the surface, Luca exhaled sharply—not in relief. The hazardous wind waves weren't there. "Has Zayn done something about this?" Luca shook off the thought—it was highly unlikely.
The gusts of wind were calm, gently brushing his hair up every so often. It didn't make him breathless. It didn't trip him when he tried to step. It was as if something had forced it to act against its will. It was almost friendly. Almost.
With a smile too bright for his own good, Luca said, "I think the lake actually tolerates me now, director."
"Good for you, Sterling," Zayn said dismissively.
The rest of the walk was silent. Luca enjoyed HQ's warmth as his clothes dried, and the beautiful halls chimed with chatter. Zayn was probably solving math equations in his head.
Throughout the halls of the West Wing, the lights were acting up. One flickered. Then another one further down the hall. Luca slowed for a moment… and the next one dimmed as he walked beneath it.
"TSL's maintenance services may need an upgrade," Luca joked.
Zayn glanced back at him. "Don't worry about nonsense and walk properly."
Luca rolled his eyes playfully, a subtle exaggeration in his posture. "I am walking properly."
He, in fact, was not. His posture wasn't the same as usual, though the difference was subtle. His breaths weren't matching his pace, and his steps were shorter.
"How much longer until we get to the office, director? Did the halls get expanded?"
"You have walked this path enough to be used to it by now."
"Gee, that was helpful," Luca said, dryly. His stomach refused to settle. He was tired, and all he wanted to do was eat.
The remainder of the walk felt endless, even though it was short. Inside the office, Luca stretched his limbs, cracking his knuckles. Zayn was already seated at his desk, clacking away on his keyboard. Then, for a moment, the clacking stopped before continuing, "Sterling, go get my usual coffee."
"Which usual, director?"
Zayn scoffed, "Coffee, Sterling."
"That was super helpful, director, I totally understood!" Luca force-exclaimed.
Before Zayn could answer, he shut the door. It might've been impolite, but it would be fine as long as he didn't make a habit of it.
***
TSL's infamous Crème Cafe buzzed with life and chatter. A long line of beings stretched out, all ordering delicacies to fuel their long workdays. Full bellies always made work easier—or at least full-ish ones. No one had time to eat properly, but something was better than nothing.
From earlier banter, Luca assumed Zayn expected a black espresso—no sugar, no cream.
Some came for the cozy atmosphere, heads buried behind laptops, blurring the hours away. The smart ones wore blue-light glasses, and the oblivious ones didn't.
Luca yawned; midday exhaustion was unusual. The line wasn't getting any shorter, and the obvious eyes boring into his back weren't helping. All this effort for a plain black espresso? He was sleeping like a log tonight, no matter what Zayn might grumble.
Somewhere in the crowd, Mayers popped her head out, waving before skipping over. She radiated warmth and smelled like a flower field turned up to full volume.
"Sterling, human boy! Haven't seen you in the cafe since forever!" She exclaimed, her voice carrying far too much energy for TSL.
"Ah, if it isn't Mayers. Great to see you." Luca managed a smile as she joined him—possibly cutting the line.
"Vae Mayers, Sterling, call me Vae," she corrected. "No room for negotiation."
"Alright, May—Vae, I promise I'll try getting used to it. Don't you prefer your surname? I thought it was a form of respect—"
Her wings fluttered happily. "Oh, I knew you could do it, Sterling!"
He didn't ask her to call him by his name. They weren't on a first-name basis. At least not in his mind.
"So, are you here for him again, or have you evolved and come to get yourself a treat?"
"Mm, I'm definitely not evolving any time soon, as you say," Luca said. "I actually enjoy this, even if it's the same bitter substance I fetch for Director Vyserion."
Vae looked horrified. "Do you actually enjoy that? Oh, they've gone and made you crazy. You were so cute. We'll miss you; RIP."
Luca laughed softly. "Relax, Vae. I enjoy feeling the cozy atmosphere, not getting the coffee!"
Strangely, the line seemed shorter now. Vae's chatter dulled the ache in his stomach for a while.
She tilted her head. "Look at you reassuring me, adorable," then her expression turned serious. "You seem pale, Sterling. Are you sure you're okay? I can give you fairy remedies—"
"I'm completely okay, Vae," he said quickly. "If I weren't, I'm sure I'd call in sick or something…"
She gave him a look. "We both know you wouldn't. I noticed earlier that you were zoning out. If you're unwell, do something about it; otherwise, I won't get to see the warmth you bring with you everywhere you go."
Then, she pulled him into a long, warm hug.
And if there's one thing Luca loved most—other than his family—it was hugs.
"You're so sweet; I wish there were more of you's in the world. But either way, only you could be the best you, Vae."
"Ah, there's the human I know!" She exclaimed, wings fluttering enthusiastically.
By the time they had reached the counter, Luca had already reconsidered every life decision that led him to get this espresso.
His stomach grumbled ferociously, and he clutched it. Why now? Why did everyone decide that now was the time to settle down in complete silence as his own body humiliated him? He heard Vae giggling from behind him.
Swallowing hard, Luca muttered, "U-um, I'd like to order the u-usual espresso for Director Vyserion." The overhead light flickered for half a second, but Luca caught it in his peripheral. He sighed and glanced over at the display.
The cake pops and donuts were all staring at him, chanting for him to pick one.
It took all his self-control not to order food. He couldn't. He'd eat later. Not now.
The bright red-haired, blue-eyed barista stared into his soul as she smiled and took his order. Freckles lined her face, each one looking like it held a secret.
"Hi, Jackie!" Vae chimed in. She knew everyone.
Luca felt sweat forming in his hair. It had not been like this last time. His palms were damp. The cafe sounded louder than it should have. Jackie didn't frighten him. The enchanted fog's residual side effects must have been the cause.
When Jackie handed him the espresso, Luca kindly excused himself, leaving Vae to chat with… everyone. Literally and figuratively.
"Thank you for ordering at TSL's Crème Cafe! Come back soon!" Jackie had said while she stared into the depths of his soul.
The words echoed in his mind—he didn't want to return any time soon. Zayn would have to figure out a way to get his own espresso in the future.
He told himself, "You're okay, Luca. Don't be dramatic."
Memories of the milkshakes and donuts that were watching him leave them behind in melancholy lingered with him. Tragic.
"Ah, today's not treating me right…" Luca mumbled, walking through the corridors at a snail's pace. No time to admire the beauty of the walls—what if he'd taken too much time? Would Zayn call him reckless again? Not to mention, his ulcers wouldn't go away.
"Don't worry, tummy. I'll get you checked… just not today," he whispered, patting his stomach.
He wasn't chronically ill. He was just tired. That was all.
Luca wanted to hurry up to prevent the espresso from cooling down before he reached Zayn, but his legs weren't cooperating. They wished to take everything slow and steady.
The elf's slit vocal cords kept flashing in his mind now and then. It was unsettling—maybe Zayn would be considerate enough to grant him a mind barrier if he asked.
Luca turned the doorknob slowly, trying to steady his shaky hand from spilling anything. "Hope I got the right usual, director," he said, quickly placing the cup down.
Zayn carried the cup to his mouth, tasting it for a brief second. A satisfied nod followed. Perfect.
"The brand on the elf's neck—I've been thinking about it, director," Luca began. "It's bothering me. I've never seen that kind of branding before."
"It's what illegal establishments brand their victims with before or after killing them. The branding designs vary from company to company," Zayn informed.
"Can we track them?"
"There's nothing that I can't do. It just requires time and a proper strategy."
"Of course you have a plan."
"The assassin. I have an inkling of who it may be. Seen him before."
"You never cease to amaze me, director!"
Zayn ignored the praise. "Margot recovered the half-burnt file. The person did a crappy job at covering it up." Then, Zayn narrowed his eyes. "I will give you a scanned copy; I expect quick results."
"Got it. Hope it's not too complicated," he smiled. "I actually planned on sleeping tonight. Can I?"
Zayn scoffed, "Do what you want. Results tomorrow. That's it."
"Yeah, I—" His stomach chose that moment to break a world record for loudest grumble.
Luca wanted to scream internally, but that would be impolite. So, he gave Zayn a quick smile before storming out.
"Sterling—"
How embarrassing.
Face-palming, Luca turned into an empty corner that was hidden from plain sight. He leaned on a wall, sliding down into a sitting position. "Deep breaths, Luca," he told himself. He counted to five, like he always did. The fifth caught halfway in. He was trying to steady himself, and it wasn't working. It always worked.
"I'm good; I just need to walk it off. That's it."
He stood back up, running a hand through his hair. His knee buckled once. He pretended it was a misstep. The sensation would fade over time. He just had to keep walking.
Walking… to Margot's office. He would retrieve the scans from Margot; Zayn wouldn't have to get them himself. It wasn't a long walk, just a couple of paces away from where he was.
One hand wouldn't stop leaning on walls as he walked, steadying himself. It was a safety measure for when his legs fully gave up on him. This had never happened before. The lights kept dimming every time he walked beneath one, then brightening once he passed it, as if something were draining them.
Someone slowed as they passed. Their eyes lingered. Luca's smile grew wider. He needed to smile. As long as he smiled, everything would be okay. This would pass, and he would never think about it again.
Margot's office didn't seem to be getting any closer. But then again, it might've been because Luca was moving at three miles per hour.
"No, actually, my legs are feeling better; I can go faster," Luca said to no one. He forced himself to press more weight in an effort to go faster. It was right there. The door was right there, only a couple more steps away.
Subconsciously, he straightened himself up, now ignoring his legs. They weren't his priority right now; it was being professional enough to speak to Margot. Not raise suspicion. Who was he to let people perceive him as someone weak?
He was Luca Sterling, the kind, punctual, perfect colleague. And that was who he would remain. No matter his condition, he would give the best results.
"I've got this. I get over all kinds of hurdles—and it's not like I won't get a check-up later…" He whispered under his breath.
"3, 2, 1," he counted down before knocking on the door.
Margot opened the door, a heavy wave of coffee slamming against his face. "...Sterling? What brings you here?"
"Margot, earlier—I heard from Director Vyserion that you managed to recover the half-burnt file." His hand lingered near the doorframe. "I'm here to retrieve a scanned copy."
Margot's uncertain expression transformed into a soft, relaxed one. "Of course you are. Always locked in on work, aren't you?"
"Always," Luca breathed out, a hand subconsciously pressing against his abdomen. "I love what I do, after all."
Margot fully opened the door, letting him in. Her office had a vintage look to it, with her fireplace crackling in the background. It smelled of warm cinnamon, making Luca's stomach rumble.
She set down her coffee mug. "One second, Sterling. You can sit while I get the physical copies." Then, she flashed him another smile.
Luca smiled back at her, hands resting in his lap. "Take your time."
He exhaled in relief; the coffee scent had been overwhelming him. No, he didn't mind the smell of coffee—but today he did. It was making his stomach toss and turn and spasm, like an ant colony had taken over it.
Fortunately, Margot's fireplace radiated with warmth. It wasn't one of those fake ones; she had an obsession with vintage-looking things. Luca dragged a chair next to the fire. He had been cold earlier, so this was great.
Until it wasn't.
The fire appeared to be worsening it; he was getting colder rather than warmer. Were these enchanted flames?
Margot turned back with the scans. "I've got them! If you'd like, I can also send a copy to your tablet."
"Oh, yeah, that'd be amazing." Luca tried to stand up to grab the files, but his knees buckled. "Agh—" He almost lost his balance. Margot's lamp flickered violently as he grabbed the desk, steadying himself.
"Sterling, sit. You look awful."
Luca scrunched his face… He didn't look awful. He looked the same as usual.
And that tiny permission to sit? It pained his heart.
Margot felt the need to help him sit down; he seemed so pitiful. And obviously, Luca wasn't planning to do anything about his situation.
"Margot, I'm—" He tried to respond normally, but his voice shook slightly. Trying to laugh it off, he wanted to palm his face. His arms weren't complying.
"No. No excuses, Sterling. You are not a child, and you know that you're not fine." She handed him a glass of water and a pill. "This will stabilize your core temperature, and I need you to be honest with me."
His voice still shook, despite his best efforts. "No—I really am fine. There's nothing out of the ordinary—"
"Don't. Just drink the water at the very least."
Hands shaking the glass, Luca took a sip. One sip. That was sufficient.
Margot stared directly at him, looking worried. "Now… what in the world did you come into contact with…?"
"Nothing, Margot. Thank you for your concern, and I haven't even been touching anything suspicious…" Luca tried to lie through his teeth.
"Don't give me the 'I didn't do anything,' Sterling."
Luca sighed, frustrated. Why wasn't Margot understanding him? He said he was fine. "I assure you that I am, Margot. I think I should leave," Luca said a bit too venomously.
"Luca—"
He didn't let her finish. He dragged himself out of that room. A pang of guilt hit him. All she did was worry. What a horrible person he was. A horrible one.
I'm the worst. I'm the worst. I'm—
Zayn stood firmly in front of him as he shut Margot's door. How did Zayn know where he was? Luca stilled, cold sweat dripping down his face.
Zayn stared at Luca, unamused. "Your pulse is wrong."
"It's not—" Luca added quickly. "I-I think you may be seeing things… and I drank water, so don't worry about that."
"Drink more. Looks like you have taken it upon yourself to get the scans."
Luca nervously grabbed his arm, trying to act normal. "Yes, isn't it great? I figured it'd be faster if I just did it myself."
"Hn," Zayn huffed, gesturing for Luca to follow him. The human could lie as much as he liked. Zayn would correct the consequences when they appeared.
"Where are we going?"
"The forensics have dropped solid leads. The brand ties back to a couple of specific underground gangs and companies. We need to identify which one."
"So, are we heading out?"
"No," Zayn said firmly, "not after what I just witnessed."
"What do you—"
"You are going to lie down somewhere, and we will see about going out tomorrow. Forget about the file."
"No, I'm not tired. I have a lot of energy, director," Luca forced a smile, but it faltered at the edges.
"You don't argue with me. My decision is final, and it is what you shall do."
Luca crossed his arms, snapping. "Well, fine, be that way. But then, can I take the rest of the day off?"
Zayn's eyes narrowed. "Do as you please—just don't think it's against my decision."
Frowning, Luca muttered, "Whatever," and spun on his heels, determined to complain to his mom about his tyrant of a boss.
***
Luca's fingers trembled as he scrolled through his contacts. Finally, he tapped the name he needed most—Mom.
The phone rang twice before a warm, familiar voice answered.
"Lucy? What's wrong, honey? Shouldn't you be working right now?"
He let out a bitter chuckle. "Mom, I'm a mess. If I hear one more 'drink water and rest' from Zayn, I'm officially going to lose it."
There was a pause on the other end. "Zayn?" she asked.
"Yes, Mom, my boss. He's got this 'I'm always right, and you're always tired' thing going on. And today? I nearly collapsed fetching—"
"Oh, dear," She said softly, "You're pushing yourself too hard again. When will you learn that you don't have to carry the whole world alone?" There was genuine worry in her voice.
Luca's jaw tightened. "I'm not—I have you, and…I'm scared, Mom. Scared of what will happen if I slow down."
The silence lingered for a brief moment, then she said, "Then slow down for me, for your sister, for Dad, for your friends, and for everyone who's here for you. You don't have to be perfect all the time, my love."
He swallowed hard. "I know. I just don't want to let anyone down. Especially not him." His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Did he just admit it to his mom?
His mom sighed, tender yet firm. She must've thought he was being ridiculous. "You won't. You're not alone, okay? You never were, and you'll never be."
Luca blinked away a sting in his eye, sniffling. "Thanks, Mom. You're the best." He leaned into his couch, laying his head back.
"You're my brave boy. Now, promise me you'll take care of yourself? No heroics for a while. Don't make Max and Lilah worry about you; they'd probably cry for days," his mom joked.
Luca let the words settle, a small smile breaking through at the thought of his little siblings. "I promise."
"Good," his mom said, her voice suddenly a playful imitation of sternness. "Now, I know you don't want to hear this, but Zayn is right. Get some sleep, and feel better when you wake up. Don't forget to eat, and don't forget what I said. Love you!"
Luca palmed his face, smiling. "Ahhh, Mom! Fine, I'll eat and sleep. I love you, bye."
And that was the end of the call. Luca stayed in the same spot for a while, zoned out. Then, he stretched his limbs and got up. Gotta do what Mom says: eat and sleep.
Luca's phone buzzed again just as he was about to tuck it away. A message from Zayn: "Hope you're not breaking my rules and working from home."
He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "Don't get your hopes up; I don't break rules." He typed back quickly, then glanced at the clock.
Before he could stand, his stomach betrayed him with a loud grumble. Damn, mom's orders. Luca sneaked a glance towards his kitchen, where a half-eaten bagel—definitely not part of the "eat properly" plan—lay abandoned.
Luca sighed, eyeing the sad, half-eaten bagel as though it were mocking him. "Great job, Luca. Starving yourself like a pro." He shuffled towards the kitchen, grumbling under his breath, "Eat properly, they said. "It'll be fun," they said.
His phone buzzed again. Another message from Zayn: "Rules exist for a reason. All you need to do is follow them."
Luca smirked, fingers flying across the screen: "I'm a professional director. You worry too much."
Zayn's message buzzed in the background: "I do not worry—" and so on. Luca's attention was elsewhere.
Luca shoved the bagel in his mouth, grimacing at the stale bite. "Professional or not, this tastes like punishment."
Normally, he would make himself something better, but his energy wasn't clocking in today. He slumped forward, honey-brown curls spilling on the kitchen counter. Margot's special pill did help somewhat, but it wasn't sufficient. Sleep might've been what he actually needed—but who was he kidding?
Sleep? Now? No way.
Luca had snuck his tablet with the scanned copy of the file with him before he left HQ. Zayn would be mistaken if he really believed Luca wouldn't work from home. Luca had never been able to resist the temptation.
Luca's fingers trembled as he skimmed through the half-burnt file, every word poking at the bruise in his gut. "Just a little more," he muttered, eyes darting across the screen like a man chasing ghosts.
His phone buzzed. A message from Zayn: "If you were really sleeping, you wouldn't be online. Stop it before I drag you back in person."
Luca smiled lightly, thumb hovering over the keyboard. "You should. I didn't want to come home anyway. And I do work better with a little chaos."
Another message: "You'll regret saying that."
Luca was in the middle of replying, thumb hovering over his keyboard, when something interrupted him.
A sharp knock echoed at his door. "No way," Luca thought. Had he really teleported to his doorstep? Luca headed straight for the door, shock etched all over his face.
Zayn's silhouette filled the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. "Chaos? Or self-destruction? Don't think I haven't noticed the tremors, Sterling."
"I haven't finished yet. You want results? Then deal with the mess I'm making." Luca shot back, his voice rough,
Zayn's smirk was dark, almost amused. "Messes are my specialty. But don't mistake patience for weakness."
"Pfft, how could I even consider the thought of you being weak? And, try me, director," Luca shot back sarcastically, with a fun sarcasm.
Zayn stepped closer, voice low and steady. "One more step past your limit, and I'll carry you out myself—whether you like it or not." His gaze was fixed on Luca's, unmoving.
The air thickened, tension charging the room like a storm ready to break free.
Luca's breath hitched. "No way, I'd never let that happen." He couldn't be carried by Zayn—that was a sign of weakness. The last thing Luca wanted was weakness.
"You're thinning by a tenthfold every time I look away—I can't have you be weak if you want to work by my side," Zayn said, grabbing Luca by the arm.
Luca bristled, cheeks flushing—not from warmth, but from the sting of truth wrapped in that biting tone. "Weak? Me? I'm not some twig you can snap with a flick," he snapped, very aware of the silk pyjamas clinging to him like a bad decision. Great. Perfect. Now I look like a walking cheese string.
He pulled his arm away. "I'm strong, punctual, and I always finish my work on time, director. Unlike some people who spend more time glaring than actually solving anything."
Zayn pinched his nose bridge, clearly unimpressed. "Look at you, Sterling. A twig with sentience. A very stubborn, delusional twig."
Luca shot him a glare sharp enough to slice glass. "I am a functional human man, if you must know. And calling people delusional is both impolite and rude, director."
A smirk tugged at the corner of Zayn's lips as he walked closer. "You keep talking like that, and I'll show you impolite."
He was so close. Luca found it difficult to focus. He swallowed hard, forcing his jaw to stay locked. Why did I think arguing with this smug dragon was a good idea?
But damn, he'd hold his ground, even if it killed him—literally.
"So, are you here to babysit me? Because I'm sure you have work to do, director," Luca mumbled, arms crossed.
"Don't dig your own grave," Luca scolded himself mentally.
"And if I were?" Zayn huffed. "What would—"
Luca couldn't keep it in. "Pfft." Luca broke out in laughter, doubling over. Director Vyserion, babysitting him? What a fever dream. No—really, what the hell?
***
To his surprise, it wasn't a fever dream. He was wide awake when Zayn had dragged him all the way to his bed, tucked him in, and commanded him to sleep. Did he take Luca for a doll?
"This isn't funny; this is bullying," Luca muttered, arms crossed, glaring hard at the ceiling—but the glare was very much directed at Zayn.
"Then so be it. Off with the sleep, human." Zayn seemed unimpressed and unfazed. He never cared, always dismissing people.
Luca thought long and hard, rubbing his chin. Then, he whispered, "How about you sing me a lullaby?" Take that, director.
Zayn grumbled, "I will do no such thing. You can dream of it once you sleep."
"Why do you want me to sleep so badly? What does my well-being have to do with you?" He glanced up, feeling confused. Why couldn't Zayn just—why wasn't Zayn understanding him?
Zayn paused for a second before saying, "Workplace competence. If you're incompetent at work, it will affect me too." His silver eyes darkened; he was reinforcing his mask. The one that made him seem heartless.
Workplace competence? What did Zayn know about workplace competence? How could he tell Luca that he would be incompetent?
Luca stared, irritation seeping into his tone. "I'll show you incompetent," Luca shot back, turning so he could face away from Zayn.
"Stop being stubborn, Sterling; be responsible," Zayn replied, pinching the bridge of his nose. If Luca wanted to be childish, then so be it. So long as he slept well and woke up well-rested.
Luca crossed his arms, frustrated. "I'm not talking to you—sit there all night for all I care," he sneered. Zayn didn't know anything. He had no right over Luca or his actions.
And even so, knowing Zayn, he would sit there all night in spite—or at least until he was sure Luca had fallen asleep. This human was bound to end himself before his enemies could reach him—if he even had any enemies.