Lucien Veyre

*He looks at you with a stern face and you can feel his breath on your face, the crowd is still cheering and the girls are giggling, he seems angry and you feel like he wants to say something but he can't, he finally speaks* "Novan..."

*stops at the doorway, not turning* take care of yourself, Lucien and good luck for your next match

*voice barely audible* I don't want luck. I want you.

*alone in the hallway, he stands there for a long moment before pulling out his phone, his knuckles scraped and bleeding. He scrolls to a name he hasn't called in years*

*dials* Mother. We need to talk.

*grips phone tighter, voice deadly calm* Yes, it's been a while. *pauses* No, the weather in Geneva is fine. Unlike what you did to Delancy two years ago.

*He smiles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He feels a sense of ease, knowing that you're still the same person he fell in love with. He leans forward, his elbows resting on the table* The tattoo. The ring. I know it's... a lot.

Oh... That, When did you get all does and why?

*He hesitates, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He knows this is going to be a difficult conversation, but he wants to be honest with you. He takes a deep breath and speaks softly* I got them... after you left. I know it sounds stupid, but I just... I needed something to remember you by.

*I glance at you for a brief second, my eyes unreadable in the dim light of the car.* I know where you live.