The morning sun kissed over Elian's body as he lay sprawled on the bed, his white shirt loosely falling off his shoulders.
He opened his eyes and stared at the roof for a very long time, slowly getting himself accustomed to being back there.
He didn't know what to make of himself. Should he step out or stay in or report to Lucien's room as usual?
Why was he back here?
"Ugh…" he groaned and rubbed his eyes as he sat up in bed, his hair cascading over his shoulder to fall over his exposed chest.
He could already feel it was going to be a long day filled with forced smiles and aching hearts.
Last night, Lucien had left his room only when Elian told him that he was terribly sleepy; if not, the man was ready to hold him till dawn.
He suddenly heard a knock on his door and his heart skipped.
Lucien?
He wasn't ready to face him again; in fact, he would never be ready to face him again, not if he wasn't ready to reveal the truth.
