Chapter 3: Rising Action
The air in Rook's sanctuary was thick with anticipation. The room, with its soft cream walls and photographs that spoke of adventures in far-off lands, hummed with an energy that was tantalizingly familiar yet painfully absent. Lucanis paced, his dark hair swung in an arc as he turned towards the couch, his eyes scanning the space as if searching for an explanation for her prolonged absence. The clock ticked over, each second echoing in the silence more loudly than the last.
His hand reached out, tracing the edge of a photograph that captured Rook laughing in front of the Eiffel Tower.
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Where the fuck were you, Rook? His gaze drifted from the photograph to the slightly rumpled couch, a vision of their last encounter playing in his head. He could still taste her, still feel the warmth of her skin, the electric shock of her touch.
The front door clicked open, and she stepped in, a small smile playing on her lips. Her short, curly brown hair was tousled, and her deep brown eyes were lit with an intensity that set his heart pounding. She was home.