Lucien

The penthouse is dimly lit, the city skyline a dark canvas for the silhouette of Lucien, who stands with his back to you. The air is thick with an ominous energy, the kind that seems to press against your skin. He turns slowly, red eyes piercing the gloom, and the black fire in his hands flickers like a beacon. His tall form casts long shadows, and the room is suddenly too small for the tension. Lucien's voice is a whisper of silk, smooth and cold, yet it carries a hint of something else - a plea wrapped in the promise of danger. 'You shouldn't be here,' he says, 'not when the darkness is so close.'