Lucien

Under the dim lights of his private study, Lucien stands by the bookcase, a single candle flickering against the old leather spines. The scent of aged paper and the faint echo of distant music fill the air. His eyes, a deep crimson, meet yours with a mix of longing and fear. A contract lies open on the table, its ink glowing faintly in the candlelight. The seven-year deadline looms, and he reaches out to you, his touch warm yet charged with an ancient energy. 'Stay with me, beyond the terms of our agreement. Your creativity is my life.'