Dominic Vance said nothing more. He just held Lucien like that, for a very long time, very tightly, as if wanting to use that embrace to make up for all the years when no one had been by the young man's side.
The afternoon breeze blew across the balcony, carrying a few fallen petals from the coral vine on the wall. Lucien buried his face in Dominic's chest, breathing in the familiar sandalwood scent on his shirt.
A fleeting sense of suffocation tightened within Lucien's chest. This embrace was so warm, yet so incredibly meaningless. The original host was no longer here to receive it.
A moment later, Dominic Vance's voice rang out, deeper and hoarser than usual: "During that time, where did you live?"
