LOGINBy seven forty three in the evening, the campus had a new post.
@saintaurelius_confessions: ‘Lucien Vale just publicly destroyed Hargreaves in the planning meeting for talking about Eli Thorne. I need everyone to understand what I just witnessed. HE SAT DOWN NEXT TO HIM AFTER. like it was nothing. like he does this’
The comments were different this time.
"Okay, I was wrong. This is real’
‘the way he just LISTED his credentials at him. surgical’
‘somebody protect the scholarship boy because Lucien Vale is down BAD and doesn’t know it yet’
Eli baked when things got loud in his head, tonight his head was full, the planning meeting, Lucien’s voice saying you were just leaving and the look on Hargreaves’ face and the way he had sat down beside him.
The Bee’s Hive kitchen was mostly used for instant noodles. Eli had claimed it at ten pm with a mixing bowl, flour and butter. He was making shortbread, because it was simple, exactly what the occasion required.
At ten forty-five, someone knocked at the door, he assumed it was Noah, It was Lucien.
He was still in his day clothes, his blazer was gone, his collar open, and it was the most undone Eli had ever seen him. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen and he lookedEli, the flour-dusted counter, the mixing bowl and he said nothing for a moment.
“You’re in the Bee’s Hive,” Eli said, breaking the silence.
“I’m aware.”
“This is the athletes’ dormitory.”
“Also aware.”
“Did you just” Eli started.
“I was walking past,” Lucien said, which was so obviously not true that neither of them addressed it. He came in and sat on the counter across from Eli.
Eli looked at him for a moment. Then he turned back to his bowl.
“Hmm…okay”
Lucien walked in quietly, he watched him work.
“You didn’t react,” Lucien said after a while. “At the meeting. When Hargreaves started.”
“I reacted.”
“Not the way most people would.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.” Eli said.
The kitchen went quiet, except for the low sound of the oven pre-heating.
“You have flour,” Lucien said suddenly.
Eli looked up. “What?”
“On your face. Just..” Lucien gestured vaguely at his own cheekbone, coming down from where he sat on the counter.
Eli reached up and rubbed at the wrong spot entirely, rubbing more flour on his face and Lucien made a sound that was entirely unexpected, he laughed.
It was short and unguarded, his whole face changing in a way that Eli could not immediately recover from.
Lucien realized what had happened, and he became briefly unguarded. .
Eli looked at him with flour still on his cheek and said, very softly; “You’re nice, you just act like you’re not.”
Lucien stared at him. He wanted to say something, but it seemed like it was stuck in his throat.
He finally broke the silence and said, “Why did you like me, in the first place?”
Eli held his gaze, not sure he wanted to tell him the answer.
“Because you looked lonely,” he replied.
Lucien looked at the counter. Then he straightened, and the close distance between them was gone.
“Goodnight, Eli,” he said with a tight smile, and was gone before Eli could say anything back, the kitchen door swinging softly shut.
***
Lucien heard voices before he reached the common room. It was the usual crowd, Cassian’s friends, people Lucien had known since first year, that took up space in his life the way furniture did, familiar and unremarkable.
He almost went straight to his room, he didn’t, because his room was past the common room and the door was open and Cassian’s voice was the one he heard narrating a story.
“..so I told him, first person you see, and I genuinely thought it would be some random second year he’d never spoken to, right, because the odds alone..”
Lucien stopped outside the doorway.
“..but then the next morning, I’m there, I have my coffee, I’m ready to watch this play out, and waiting at the gates, I mean waiting, like he’d been there a while is this kid, the transfer, the one who’d shown up the day before with a tart..” the room laughed.
“..and Lucien looks at him and I can see him doing the calculation, right, he’s trapped and he knows it, so he just says..” Cassian turned, still smiling, reaching for his cup on the side table.
He saw Lucien in the doorway. Cassian's smile didn’t fall immediately, it took a second, everyone in the room followed his gaze and found Lucien standing in the doorway in his day clothes with his blazer gone and his expression doing absolutely nothing at all.
The room went quiet.
Cassian set his cup down.
“Luce..” he started, “It’s fine,” Lucien said.
He looked at the room, at the grins that were fading now, at Cassian still half-reaching toward an explanation he hadn’t found yet, and he felt something in his chest go very still. He thought about the kitchen, about flour on Eli’s cheek and a laugh he hadn’t meant to give and ‘because you looked lonely’ said in a voice that had no lie in it whatsoever.
He walked past the common room to his door, went in, and closed it behind him.
He knew that soon the whole school would find out about the bet, but there was only one person he worried about.
Day seven of thirty
Twenty-three to go
Noah took the stairs two at a time, his breath rattling in his throat, the rubber soles of his trainers squeaking sharply against the cold floor. He knew exactly where he was going. He needed Cassian, which meant walking back into the room Cassian shared with Lucien. The corridor here was different from the Eastern Barracks. The carpet was thick, swallowing the sound of his frantic pace, and the air smelled faintly of expensive woodsmoke and cologne. When Noah reached the door, his hand went to the brass knob, but he froze."...I'm just saying, the blue knit suits you better," she was saying, her tone low and easy, l "The black one makes you look like you're attending a funeral.""It's a classic look," Cassian’s voice replied. It had that familiar, smooth, lazy cadence that usually made Noah’s chest ache in the dark, but right now, it sounded entirely too distant. "Besides, funerals require an effort I'm simply not willing to make on a Monday evening."Noah didn't knock. He didn't
The Council’s private archive room smelled likeb old floor wax. The room sat at the very top of the Western Wing, far away from the noisy common areas where the rest of the student body lived.Eli stood by the tall, narrow window, his hands tucked deep into the sleeves of Lucien’s blue cashmere sweater he still wore even if they left Wyoming hours ago.The cuffs were still rolled back, but the fabric was warm against his skin, a stark contrast to the draft coming off the stone casing. He turned his head slightly to look at the massive oil painting hanging above the stone fireplace. Five young men from 1898 stood in a rigid row, their wool coats buttoned to their chins, staring down at the room with a cold, absolute certainty.“The Syndicate,” Eli said, his voice flat in the quiet space. “That’s what they called themselves, right?”Lucien didn't look up from the dark oak desk in the corner. He was sitting with his shoulders slightly hunched, his long fingers carefully sorting throug
Eli stood on the wide stone porch, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of Lucien’s oversized blue sweater. Next to him, Lucien was in a rigid line, his eyes locked on the sleek black SUV as it rolled to a stop.The rear door clicked open. Daniel stepped out first, Eli noticed he was wearing a plain, faded denim jacket and dark jeans. He stood with his shoulders thrown back, seemed similar to the posture Lucien always used when he was defensive, but his eyes darted nervously across the massive facade of the estate.From the passenger side, protective eyes stepped out. This was Daniel's mother, his sole guardian, her posture sharp and alert as she reached back to touch her son's shoulder.Seraphine climbed out of the driver's seat, offering a tight, weary nod to the porch.“He looks like you,” Eli murmured, his voice low enough only for Lucien to hear. “When you’re trying to look terrifying and failing.”“I don’t fail,” Lucien muttered, though his fingers twitched against his thig
The blue cashmere sweater Lucien had pulled from his wardrobe smelled faintly of cedar.It swallowed Eli completely, the soft hem brushing his mid-thigh and the long sleeves falling well past his knuckles.“You’re swimming in it,” Lucien said, a rare, light chuckle escaping him as he watched Eli roll the cuffs back twice so his hands could actually function.“It’s a design choice,” Eli replied, flashing a grin as he smoothed down the front of the knit. “Besides, it’s warm.”They moved down the long timber hallway together, the silence of the house beginning to change as the morning sun hit the tall glass panels. Lucien didn't put on his usual stiff school wear, he remained in his simple black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his steps unhurried. They didn’t hold hands as they approached the common areas, but their shoulders brushed with every step.The kitchen was massive, dominated by local stone and a heavy island made of dark oak. It looked like a room that had once been the beating
The guest room door didn’t make a sound when it opened.Eli was already half-awake, his internal clock tuned to the early morning track routines, when the mattress dipped. A cold hand slipped under the heavy duvet, finding his waist, and Eli didn’t flinch. He knew the feel of that grip.“Lucien,” Eli whispered, his voice thick with sleep.“Get up,” Lucien murmured against his ear. His breath was warm, contrasting with the freezing air of the room. “Come with me.”Eli blinked through the dim light. Lucien wasn’t wearing his sweater or his shoes. He was just in a loose black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, his red hair was messy, falling into his eyes without the usual precise parting and his tattoo peeking theough the sleeve of his shirt. He looked entirely separate from the Saint Aurelius version of himself.Eli didn’t ask any questions, he just pulled himself out of the warmth of the bed, shivering a little when his bare feet hit the cold timber floor, and followed Lucien down the
The ticket was in Eli’s email at six in the morning on Thursday and he stared at it for a long time before he texted Noah who had been spending a lot of time in Cassian’s dorm. ‘He bought me a first class ticket’ Noah’s reply came in thirty seconds. ‘Obviously he did, It’s a five hour flight Noah’ ‘And?’ ‘Help me, Lord’ Eli looked at the ticket again, the seat number, departure time and the meal options listed at the bottom like a restaurant menu, which was not something he had ever encountered on an airline booking confirmation before. He got on the plane. First class was, as it turned out, a fundamentally different experience from the middle seat in economy that Eli had taken on every flight of his life up to this point. He spent the first twenty minutes of the journey trying not to look like someone experiencing it for the first time and failing completely. The seat reclined into something approaching a bed, there was a small lamp. Someone brought him a warm towel befor







