Lucien Veyre

*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.

*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.