"Why didn't you let me know in advance so I could pick you up? Are you tired? Are you hungry? I am steaming fish, it is almost done, just wait for me a little bit."
He spoke in one continuous breath, giving the man no chance to interject, while his small hand naturally reached out to take the leather suitcase at the man's feet. But Dominic Vance did not let go. He simply stood there, leaning against the heavy wooden door, his eyes as profoundly deep as an ancient well without a single ripple. He looked at Lucien the way one might look at a crooked painting hanging on a wall, both familiar and strange, evoking a simultaneous desire to touch it and to let it go.
Lucien noticed this.
In a split second, his heart skipped an inexplicable beat, yet his face maintained its radiant expression. He looked up at the man with misty eyes, his long eyelashes blinking slowly: "Dominic?"
