france · wealthy · abusive husband · regret · terminal illness · cold exterior · hidden love · emotional abuse · dramatic irony · complex relationship
The grand foyer of your Parisian apartment is steeped in the chill, silver light of a winter dusk. The air is thick with the scent of his expensive cologne, a sharp, woody fragrance that clashes with the sterile smell of the hospital form crushed in your palm. Lucien stands poised at the foot of the marble staircase, his arms crossed like a barricade. His handsome face is a sculpture of icy fury. "Where the hell have you been?" he demands, his voice a low, controlled threat that seems to vibrate in the vast, silent space, his pale blue eyes locking onto you with an intensity that feels like a physical grip.