The quiet lingered between them, but this time, it didn't feel entirely empty.
Eline picked another strawberry, rolling it between his fingers before taking a bite. His gaze remained on the river, but his thoughts had already drifted somewhere else.
"Do you have friends?" he asked suddenly.
Lucian glanced at him, slightly caught off guard.
"Friends?" he repeated.
"Yeah," Eline said, a little more casually. "Like… real ones. Not business connections. Not people you just meet because you have to."
Lucian thought for a moment.
"I do," he said. "But we don't… do this."
Eline turned to look at him. "Do what?"
Lucian gestured faintly at the strawberries, the river, the quiet space around them. "This."
Eline let out a small breath, almost amused.
"You're missing out, then," he said.
He looked back at the water.
"I used to come here with someone," he added, his tone softer now, but not heavy. Just… distant. "We'd spend hours doing nothing. Talking about random things, eating whatever we picked…"
A faint smile touched his lips, though it didn't fully stay.
"I miss that," he said. "It would've been nicer if he were here."
Lucian didn't respond.
But something in him shifted.
The words were simple. Casual. Not meant to carry weight.
And yet, they did.
He could see it -the way Eline had been earlier. The way he had smiled, talked, moved without hesitation.
That version of him.
Someone else had known it first.
Someone else had been the reason for it.
Lucian's fingers tightened slightly around the strawberry in his hand.
He didn't like that thought.
He didn't understand why.
But he didn't like it.
They didn't stay much longer after that.
The air had changed, subtly but unmistakably.
As they walked back toward the entrance, neither of them spoke much. Eline still looked around, still picked a strawberry here and there, but the earlier ease had quieted down.
When they reached the car, the driver opened the door for them.
Lucian stopped him with a brief gesture.
"I'll be back," he said.
Before Eline could ask anything, Lucian walked back toward the counter.
A few minutes later, he returned carrying two large boxes filled with freshly packed strawberries.
Eline blinked in surprise.
Lucian handed them to him without explanation.
Eline took them, still a little confused. "Are these… for me?"
Lucian looked at him, his expression as composed as ever.
"There's no one else in that house who would want them this much."
Eline stared at the boxes for a second, then let out a small, uncertain breath.
"Well… that's true," he said. "Good for me, I guess."
He adjusted his hold on them, still unsure what else to say.
They got into the car.
The ride back was quieter.
The gentle movement of the car, the warmth of the afternoon, and the lingering exhaustion from walking around slowly caught up to Eline. His head leaned slightly to the side, his eyes closing without him fully realizing it.
Not deep sleep.
Just enough to drift.
Lucian sat beside him, looking straight ahead at first.
But his thoughts hadn't left the river.
Or the words spoken there.
I used to come here with someone.
His gaze shifted slightly toward Eline.
The faint rise and fall of his breathing. The relaxed expression on his face, untouched by the weight he usually carried.
Lucian watched him for a moment.
Then, before he could stop himself, he spoke.
"Did you love that friend of yours?"
The words left his mouth quietly, almost without intention.
Eline stirred slightly, his brows knitting together as he blinked his eyes open.
"What…?" he murmured, still half-asleep. "What did you say?"
Lucian paused.
For a brief second, he held his gaze.
Then something in his expression shifted, closing off just as quickly as it had opened.
"It's nothing," he said.
He looked away, back toward the window.
As if the question had never mattered.
Even though, for some reason
It did.
By the time they returned, the sky had already begun to soften into evening.
The mansion stood the same as always ,silent, composed, untouched by whatever had happened outside its walls. The moment Eline stepped back inside, that faint sense of freedom he had carried with him began to fade, like something slipping quietly out of reach.
Still, something lingered.
A lightness.
He carried the boxes to his room, setting them aside without much thought before dropping onto the bed. His body felt pleasantly tired, his mind slower than usual. The day replayed in fragments
-rows of strawberries, the river, the shade of the willow tree… and for a brief moment, he let himself stay there.
A small, almost unconscious smile touched his lips.
He didn't think about why.
He didn't think about what it meant.
He just closed his eyes.
And this time, sleep came easily.
In another part of the house, Lucian sat at his desk.
Documents lay open in front of him, untouched for far too long.
He was aware of it.
He simply didn't care enough to change it.
His fingers rested against the surface, still, as his thoughts circled somewhere far from the work he was supposed to be doing.
Eline.
The way he had laughed.
The way he had spoken without restraint, explaining something as trivial as picking strawberries like it mattered.
The way he had looked -free, unguarded, almost… unreachable.
For a brief moment, something softened in Lucian's expression. A faint smile appeared, subtle enough that it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else.
It didn't last.
It would've been nicer if he were here.
I miss that life.
The words surfaced again, uninvited.
And just like that, the softness disappeared.
Lucian's gaze hardened slightly, his fingers pressing more firmly against the desk.
He didn't like that.
He didn't like the idea of someone else being the reason for that version of Eline. Someone else having stood where he had stood today. Someone else being the one Eline remembered… and missed.
The feeling sat in his chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome.
He couldn't name it.
But he knew one thing,
He didn't like it.
His thoughts shifted again, almost instinctively.
To something else.
The night.
The memory came back without effort.
The way Eline had looked then, completely different from today. Unaware, unguarded in another way. The way his reactions had unfolded under his hands, the way his voice had sounded, the way his body had responded _
Lucian exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair.
There was something unsettling about it.
Not the act itself.
That had been expected.
Planned.
Controlled.
But the way he had felt-
That hadn't been.
He had thought it would be nothing more than necessity.
A purpose.
A means to an end.
And yet…
It hadn't felt like that.
Not entirely.
His brows furrowed slightly.
For a man who prided himself on control, on understanding his own mind, this… lack of clarity was irritating.
Unacceptable, even.
Lucian closed the file in front of him without reading a single line.
For the first time in a long while-
Something was slipping out of his control.
And he didn't like that either.