Lucius gazed down at him—tight, unblinking, and unreadable.
There was no fury in his expression, no visible flash of betrayal. But something in the stillness of his face, in the absolute control of his posture, made Florian feel like he was standing on a blade.
Florian swallowed hard, suddenly hyperaware of the weight on his shoulder. Lucius' gloved hand wasn't heavy, but it anchored him like a chain. His shadow loomed tall and unmoving, a silent, suffocating ceiling above the couch.
Florian raised a hand, pressing gently against Lucius' forearm. Not to shove him away—just to test if he would move.
He didn't.
The arm was stone.
"Lucius…" he tried again, softer this time, uncertain. "You're—"
A growl.
Sharp. Low. Protective.
Azure had crept up the armrest like a stalking predator, tiny wings flaring out in a defensive arc. His scales bristled with tension, tail whipping behind him like a live wire, little fangs bared as he hissed at Lucius.
