His answer was barely above a whisper.
" you can…., i want you to have it, you should apply it on your swollen ankle till it's not swollen anymore"
The SUV felt suddenly smaller, warmer, like the world outside no longer mattered, Riah held the balm to her heart, her voice soft and trembling.
"Thank you… Lucian." As she turned to look at the beautiful figure beside her, her eyes filled with emotion, she chuckled inwardly " I…I mean seems like I get into a lot of troubles…. erm lately and your somehow, I mean you always show up, to save me…." Riah chuckled at her response.
He brushed a strand of wet hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin.
"You don't need to thank me," he murmured, eyes darkening with something she couldn't name, "Let's just say… you owe me one."
He paused, eyes glinting. "Or maybe two. And I'll take them when I'm ready."
The smirk that followed was the most beautiful—and dangerous—expression Riah had ever seen on him, Riah breath caught. Her cheeks warmed, then deepened into a soft blush she couldn't hide.
Lucian's eyes lingered on her a moment longer than they should have, his hand on her cheek, something in her face—her warmth, her trust, the way she looked at him like he wasn't something to fear—stirred something deep inside him. Something buried. Something he hadn't let himself feel in a very long time. His ears turned slightly red.
"Deal," he added, his voice lower, almost soft.
Riah blushed hard , unable to stop the small smile that lifted her lips. " Deal" Riah added.
" Good, can I take you home now" Lucian said scared she might protest.
"Lucian—"Riah called out innocently.
"I'm taking you home," he said, like it was already decided.
The drive home was full of unspoken feelings.
Lucian carried her gently in his arms ,
she didn't even try to protest,
feeling the quiet strength in his heartbeat and the warmth of his hands around her,
her body still nestled close to his, Riah could still feel the echo of her blush warming her cheeks—and apparently, so could he.
He glanced down at her, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips again.
"Your face is all red," he said quietly. "Is that because of me… or are you just cold?"
Riah's caught her breathe, the way he asked it—soft, teasing, yet deeper than teasing—sent a flutter through her chest.
"I…I don't know what your talking about ," she stammered, though the heat in her cheeks answered for her.
Lucian's eyes softened, the playful glint dimming into something warmer, something dangerously close to affection. His gaze lingered on her face a heartbeat longer than necessary, like he was memorizing it—the blush, the closeness, her.
"Hmm," he murmured, bending slightly to adjust his hold on her. "I'll take that as my answer."
Her heart thudded.
He carried her the rest of the way with that same quiet intensity in his eyes, the air between them warm and fragile, like one more word could break it—or pull them closer, they reached her door, her body still nestled close to his,
Lucian shifted her gently in his arms just as the door swung open.
Her mother stood there—eyes widening at the sight in front of her: her daughter injured… and a tall, breathtakingly handsome man holding her like she weighed nothing.
"Oh my goodness—Riah!" her mother gasped, then her gaze flicked up to Lucian, softening with gratitude. "Thank you, young man. Please, please come inside."
Lucian dipped his head politely, stepping into the warm apartment still carrying Riah with effortless strength.
"It was no trouble," he said.
Her mother rushed ahead to make space, fussing, muttering about towels and warm water and wicked men lurking at night. Lucian carefully set Riah down on the couch, his hands steady on her waist until he was sure she wouldn't fall.
"Thank you," her mother said again, squeezing his arm before walking out of the room to get supplies.
"You're an angel."
Lucian's jaw flexed slightly—like the word didn't sit well with him. His gaze slid to Riah, checking her ankle again, her heart thumped at how focused he looked… how gentle he was with her.
"Lucian,"
she called softly once her mother had stepped away, her fingers nervously twisting in her shirt, he looked up immediately.
"Hmm?"
Riah swallowed.
"Can I… erm…" She cleared her throat, cheeks warming. "Can I have your number? You know… just in case you're ready to collect what I owe you."
A slow, devastating smirk shaped his mouth—the one that made her heartbeat stutter, he leaned in slightly, eyes locked on hers.
"So that's why you want my number?" he murmured, voice low. "For the favour."
Riah blinked, flustered. "Y-Yes. I mean—yes. Just in case."
Lucian chuckled softly—a sound so quiet yet so warm it curled around her ribs, he pulled out his phone and handing it to her. "take it."
She typed in her number, her hands trembling slightly before handing it back, Lucian brushed a strand of wet hair from her cheek, his touch featherlight, as he slipped his phone into his pocket, leaning just slightly closer.
"Don't worry, Riah. I haven't forgotten what you owe." His smirk was the most beautiful and dangerous she'd ever seen, her heart flipped, her blush giving her away.
Riah's blush had barely faded when her mother returned, carrying a small towel and a steaming cup of ginger tea.
"Oh, thank you," her mother breathed, setting everything down. She glanced between the two of them and smiled knowingly. "You've been so kind. Really, we appreciate it, what's your name Mr."
"Lucian" he added politely ,Lucian stood a little straighter, that calm composure settling over him again.
"It was nothing," he said softly.
Her mother thanked him and greeted him goodnight, as he turned to leave Riah called out to home and thanked him one more time before he left. The soft click of the door felt louder than it should've, Riah stayed still on the couch, her heart thudding in a rhythm that didn't feel like hers. Her mother fussed with the towel, but Riah barely felt it—her mind was still at the doorway, replaying the way Lucian looked back at her, that quiet hesitation. Those eyes. The warmth in his voice meant only for her. Her mother finally paused.
"Hmm," she said slowly, eyeing Riah's glowing cheeks. "You okay?"
Riah blinked. "Y-Yeah. Just tired."
Her mother didn't look convinced. "He's a very nice man. Very handsome too."
"Mum," Riah groaned softly, burying her face in her hands, her mother chuckled, patted her shoulder, and walked away, leaving Riah alone in the dim light of the living room. She exhaled shakily, her ankle throbbed, but her chest felt light.Too light.
She touched her cheek—the warmth still, the way he had carried her, his hands on her skin, his string grip on her waist made her face flushed red, and when he said that she was all red if it was his doing or she was just cold " silly" she blurted out shyly.