Zayn had sent his same scary driver to pick him up. Luca had learned that he went by the name "AJ."
He had been intimidating the last time Luca had met him, only because they hadn't had a conversation. Possibly because of his appearance as well.
AJ was surprisingly chill. He was a man of few words but wasn't arrogant or rude; he was rather humble.
The ride was enjoyable despite its length. AJ drove smoothly with practiced precision.
Luca had brought the same things he had brought over to his parents' house—his notebook, his pen, the tablet, some clothes, and his coat.
AJ drove through the driveway leading to Zayn's estate. It screamed "rich prince" from every corner. Everything there—from the plants to the very house in the centre—was opulent.
Every flower was beautiful but placed too perfectly, and they were somehow welcoming with their sweet scent.
AJ opened the door at Luca's side, letting him out. "We have arrived, Mr. Sterling."
"Please call me Luca," he replied. Being called Sterling made him feel old and awkward. He never mentioned it, but he figured it was fine with AJ.
AJ nodded and led him through the garden path. There were a couple of mini fountains that lined the perimeter of the garden and a large one in the centre.
When they reached the grand doors, AJ knocked a rhythmic tune before they opened themselves with a whisper.
He stood aside, letting Luca walk in before following behind him. The interior of the mansion was vaster than anywhere Luca had ever seen, but it wasn't empty. It was organized, and everything looked intentional. Better, it looked lived-in.
"Prince Zayn is upstairs in his office. You may go see him. His office is labelled with his name."
Then AJ took his things to store them somewhere Luca wasn't paying attention to. He went up the right side of the elegant double staircase, hands on the railing in case his legs chose to give up on him.
Zayn's house consisted of dark stone and marble. The decorations were a mix of aristocratic and minimal: corner lamps and decorative plants.
At the top of the stairs hung a large chandelier that glowed dim silver instead of gold.
Luca walked through the halls, searching for one thing. Zayn's office. He would've appreciated it more if Zayn had come to meet him at the door instead of him having to go on a treasure hunt for the office.
The very last door at the far end of a corridor was labelled with Zayn's name. Must be his office, Luca thought.
He turned the doorknob slowly, and walked in.
"Hi—"
He froze.
Zayn was in the middle of slipping out of his tank top. He didn't stop. And as if he hadn't noticed, he glanced over at Luca with those silver eyes of his. His eyes roamed over his body, taking in his appearance with fervour. He continued taking it off, staring Luca dead in the eyes.
The door shut behind Luca, as if on command, and snapped him out of it.
It was as if he were stuck in place, and all he could mutter out was, "Ah, uh, I should've knocked… sorry."
"Mm, are you? Or did you walk in on purpose, Sterling?"
Walking in on purpose would've been unholy and delinquent. Luca definitely hadn't done that. He had merely assumed it was okay to walk in and had forgotten to knock first.
"No—I wouldn't—I'll excuse myself then," he stammered.
Zayn chuckled lowly, gesturing for Luca to stop. He pointed toward the couch at the far left of the office. That meant Luca should sit and wait. But wasn't Zayn in the middle of undressing? Luca wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his eyes from roaming if Zayn didn't go somewhere more private.
Not that he'd do it on purpose… sigh.
"I, uh, shouldn't you go somewhere more private, director?"
"Hush, I'm not undressing. Now that you are here, care to explain all that commotion you caused in my messages?"
Luca lowered his gaze to the floor because now wasn't the time to count Zayn's abs or to examine how perfectly every strand of his hair fell on his shoulders. If Zayn was comfortable enough to be shirtless around him, he needed to be respectful about it.
He took a deep breath. "First of all, I'm really sorry for yelling at you when you tried to help me…"
Zayn stared back at him, smirking smugly.
"And I apologize for pushing you and calling you impolite when I was the disrespectful, impolite, and rude one."
Zayn didn't reply for a good while. He looked as if he were calculating in his head and sorting out his thoughts. Luca had learned how to identify that look from staring at Zayn for too long.
"You never fail to surprise me."
What was that supposed to mean? All he did was apologize for his mistakes. And he hoped that Zayn would accept it, as he'd rather not have an uncomfortable work atmosphere once he returned to TSL HQ.
"Did you believe any of that would've backed me off, Luca?"
The way Zayn said Luca made him feel some kind of way, as if he mattered. But that wasn't important. Luca didn't know whether he had really wanted Zayn to leave that day or if it was a futile attempt at looking strong. Either way, deep down, he was glad that Zayn hadn't left.
Zayn looked at him expectantly, silver eyes glowing in the dim atmosphere.
Luca swallowed hard, feeling like a kid confessing his bad behaviour. "No," he whispered.
Zayn approached him on the couch, looming over him. "I don't abandon what is mine, understood?"
"I—"
"You are what's mine, and I will not stand back and feel you suffer as long as I can do something about it."
Luca flushed, unable to stop the heat that crept up to his face. Why did he always feel like this around Zayn? It was wrong. He wasn't allowed to feel this way.
"Am I really yours… or do you just believe me to be…?"
Zayn stayed perfectly still and calculating, not a single muscle in his body twitching out of turn.
But he did answer. "You work for me; therefore, you are mine."
That was right. He was merely an employee. Their relationship was strictly one between an investigator and his director. Nothing less, nothing more.
"S-speaking of suffering," Luca continued, "what I wanted to talk to you about was my condition."
Zayn tilted his head, brows rising.
"I wanted to ask you for a favour," Luca breathed out, keeping his eyes from wandering. "Please, help me get better, director."
Zayn's eyes dimmed. "Zayn," he corrected.
Luca looked back at him, feeling shy all of a sudden. He'd never actually called Zayn by his name in front of him—maybe to his mom or in his head, but to Zayn himself? That was a whole other story.
"Go on, repeat it," Zayn insisted, looming closer. If that was his way of intimidating Luca, it was working.
"Please help me," Luca breathed, "Zayn."
Something shifted in Zayn's gaze, and he stepped back abruptly, resting his hands on his waist. "Is that not what I've been doing this whole time, huh?" He raised a sharp eyebrow.
It was true. Zayn had held him on the ground. He had soothed him with his silver flames; he had asked him to stay with him, to not close his eyes, and to not give in to the sigil. He had insisted on remaining even when Luca tried chasing him away. Every time he checked his pulse and breathed near his skin, it all made Luca feel some kind of way. A way he tried not to acknowledge.
Luca, uncomfortable, held on to Zayn's arm, as if that were enough to chase off his worries. "It's becoming unbearable, Zayn. This—this thing on my skin, it's making me hate myself. It's hurting me, and I don't understand why. It's like a poisonous leech that I can't get off. This isn't me, and I'm scared, Zayn." His eyes stung with unshed tears that threatened to spill out at any moment. But Luca didn't want to cry; he didn't want to be vulnerable.
Zayn stilled but seemed to have dropped his guard as he pulled Luca taut against him, his hands resting on his waist. Zayn leaned in to whisper, "You will get through this, and I will fix everything for you."
Zayn let go of his waist and then wrapped his strong arms tightly around him, like a protective cage. He didn't force it; he was gentle. He was always gentle with Luca.
Luca sniffled, and his eyes stung even more, and it took all his fight to stop the tears from spilling out.
He wrapped his arms around Zayn in return, melting into his embrace. He felt safe and held, and for one fleeting moment he let himself truly believe that everything would be okay. Zayn's body was surprisingly warm. And Luca wondered if he always radiated such a high level of heat. If Luca could, he'd want to be held like this forever. If he could freeze this moment so he'd never have to worry about anything ever again, he would. But that wasn't realistic. This moment would end, and the chances of it happening again were low. Too low. Because Luca had to keep his distance, and he failed every time. Every. Single. Time.
"Luca," Zayn whispered softly into his ear, his embrace as soothing as a nest.
He glanced up, eyes still watery.
"I will place a counter sigil in you. It is infused with my mana and will fight off the current sigil that is draining you. Your condition will begin improving within the hour."
Luca laid his head on Zayn's chest, hearing his heartbeat. The faint thrum of it soothed him more than he'd like to admit.
"Thank you…. A lot. And I'm sorry again," Luca said, his voice raw with emotion.
"Hush," Zayn whispered again, stroking his hair lightly, "don't worry yourself with apologies. Focus on recovering."
"Just tell me everything will be okay and that you accept my apology."
Zayn examined his expression, a smirk hinting at the corners of his lips. "If you insist on hearing it verbally, I forgive you. Always. And everything will be okay, as I will always remain by your side as long as you allow it."
Some of those words may have been sweet nothings, but they filled an empty space in Luca's heart.
Zayn stood up, carrying Luca effortlessly as if he weighed nothing. There was a bed on the other side of the office, and Luca had assumed that was where he was being carried to. But it wasn't. Zayn had exited the office and walked through the long halls to another dark marbled staircase. Another chandelier hung overtop of it, glowing a dim silver.
Zayn was bringing Luca to his personal room—which made Luca shy. He wasn't sure whether they were that close yet, but it couldn't be avoided anymore. They were already at the door, and damn, Zayn walked quickly.
He dropped Luca onto the bed, kissing him gently on the forehead. "I will go get the sigil; stay put. If you disappear, I will burn everything until I find you."
A cool chill ran up Luca's spine, what kind of threat was that? And yet, the idea of Zayn burning the world to find him didn't anger him. It flustered him.
The feeling of the light kiss lingered on his forehead, as if his body were savouring the sensation and stocking it deep into his memory. The sigil pulsed faintly beneath his skin in response, and the curtains lifted subtly.
Suddenly, he wanted Zayn to hurry back, because whenever he was alone in a room, things went south.
And just as he had wanted, the doorknob turned again, and Zayn stepped in without a single hair out of place. He always looked perfect.
In his hand, he held a tiny object, one that Luca couldn't quite make out.
He kneeled beside Luca on the bed, taking his hand in his. He stared intently into Luca's eyes, drinking in every detail of his face. Luca stared back with just as much fervour, curious and hypnotized by Zayn's silver gaze.
"This, you will wear on your finger. It is the sigil, and it will fix itself in position to fight the other," Zayn explained calmly, sliding the ring-shaped sigil onto Luca's index finger.
It felt weirdly intimate, even if it was merely a sigil meant to protect him. Luca swallowed hard. The sigil was stunning, silver, and embellished with crystals and gems.
The ring started its dance toward the other sigil that resided in his body. It trailed upward from his index, tracing lines toward his chest, where it centred itself and seeped in to find the core of the other sigil. Silver flames erupted around him, but they weren't harmful. They were the same silver flames Zayn had used before.
He felt a quick, sharp pain in his chest as the flower sigil throbbed and pulsed erratically.
Zayn held his hand, as if attempting to comfort him. "Give it a minute; it will fade. Soon, you will only feel the warmth of my mana."
Luca nodded, holding onto Zayn for support. This meant he'd be able to work again without having to writhe in pain. That was the greatest news Luca had ever heard in his life as a workaholic.
Zayn was right; the pain settled quickly and eased. His chest felt aflame, not in a painful way but in a cozy way.
"I'm surprised your eyes are still on my chest even in this situation," Zayn murmured.
Luca's eyes widened. He had let his eyes wander once again, and he hadn't even noticed it. He felt his cheeks flush and quickly ripped his gaze away from the area where his gaze didn't belong.
"Ah," Luca muttered. "Sorry," he smiled awkwardly, as if embarrassment weren't eating him alive.
"I wasn't complaining; do continue," Zayn insisted, teasing him lightly.
"N-no, I'd rather not…"
"Oh, but you should go on!" He got on the bed beside Luca, pointing at his chest.
Luca looked away, turning toward the opposite wall. What kind of cursed situation had he gotten himself into?
"Avoiding my gaze? My feelings, Luca, my precious feelings!"
Luca fought a smile at the corners of his lips; in all honesty, he did find it funny and entertaining how Zayn could lift his mood with a couple of words.
"Oh, Zayn, I made such a big achievement earlier; you'd never believe it!"
"Hm?" Zayn asked, suddenly turning Luca toward him without him noticing. "Go on, tell me," he whispered.
"Okay, are you ready?" Luca smiled, his cheeks flushing.
"Always ready."
"So, at home, we were all watching spooky children's movies, and Mom made me hot cocoa exactly how I like it. And I really wanted to drink it, but I was afraid, so my mother told me to take it slowly and that if I stopped paying attention, I wouldn't even notice I was drinking. And it worked; I drank a quarter of the cup!"
Zayn looked thoughtful for a moment before erupting in laughter. But he wasn't making fun of him—Luca could tell. "I knew you could do it; I am proud of you," he poked Luca on the nose.
"Wait… wasn't I facing away from you? Sneaky little—"
He was cut off by Zayn tackling him in his arms, making him laugh lightly. How could he ever have gotten angry with this man?
Luca glanced around, and it was extremely dark outside. Zayn's room had large floor-to-ceiling windows, which showed a beautiful view of the city and the stars. Zayn had brought him his onesie, and with a snap of his finger, it appeared on Luca's body. He didn't understand magic, but he was jealous; his life could've been easier if he could change outfits with a snap of his finger, too.
The stars were especially bright at the time, and Luca felt drawn to them in a good way. He grabbed his notebook and his pen from behind his ear. He sketched and wrote about the stars while Zayn lounged beside him on the bed.
"We should go stargazing, Zayn," he said without looking away from his notebook.
Zayn seemed to consider the idea before tossing it out the window like a basketball. "Or, you could lie beside me and let me hold you for eternity."
"That is… unacceptable, Zayn."
Luca may have thought it was unacceptable, but he knew he couldn't resist him. Not now—not ever.
Zayn invited him into his arms, cupped his face, and kissed his forehead before draping the dark covers over them. Luca buried his head into his chest, feeling Zayn's hair surround him in a welcoming way. He would enjoy the warmth while it lasted—because it could be okay only for this moment.
The two ended up sleeping soundly against each other until morning light, with one breathing peacefully and the other snoring like death.