Chapter 10 Storms Beneath the Surface

The storm outside had settled to a quiet drizzle, but inside Amara's apartment, another storm simmered just beneath the surface.

Lucian's jacket hung by the door, droplets still clinging to the fabric. His presence filled the small space-not overwhelming, but steady, anchoring her in ways she wasn't prepared for.

They stood close in the soft glow of the table lamp, their earlier kiss still lingering like electricity in the air.

Amara's pulse thrummed, fast and uncertain.

"You okay?" Lucian's voice was low, roughened slightly by nerves of his own.

She exhaled slowly, realizing how tightly her fists were clenched at her sides. "I'm not sure," she admitted honestly.

The rawness in her words surprised them both.

Lucian's hand reached for hers-not demanding, just there, offering quiet support. His thumb brushed across her knuckles, grounding her.

"I didn't mean to push you," he said softly.

"You didn't," Amara replied, her gaze falling to the floor. "I'm pushing myself. That's the scary part."

Lucian's lips curved with understanding. "You're braver than you think."

The weight of his words settled over her, easing some of the knots in her chest.

They drifted to the small sofa by the window, the city lights glinting through rain-speckled glass. The hum of passing cars blended with the faint tapping of rain on the glass.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Lucian's fingers brushed the edge of one of her canvases leaning against the wall. The abstract swirls of blue and grey mirrored the chaos she tried so hard to control.

"You hide parts of yourself in your art," Lucian observed, voice gentle. "I do the same with my camera."

Amara tucked her legs beneath her, curling into the corner of the sofa. "It's easier to capture beauty than believe you deserve it," she whispered.

Lucian's expression softened, his eyes shadowed by unspoken memories. "I used to think that too," he admitted, settling beside her. "But broken things can still be beautiful."

The vulnerability between them crackled again, raw but no longer unbearable.

"Tell me about your sister," Amara asked quietly, surprising herself with the request.

Lucian's jaw tightened, but his gaze didn't waver. "She was fierce," he began, voice laced with both pride and sorrow. "Lila never hid her heart-even when people didn't deserve it."

Amara listened, feeling the edges of her own guardedness fray.

Lucian continued, eyes fixed on the window, as if the rain outside carried the weight of his memories. "She trusted the wrong person... Someone who made her question her worth every day. By the time she realized, the damage-" His voice cracked slightly. "It was already done."

Amara's chest tightened, understanding far too well.

"And you couldn't save her," she whispered.

Lucian's nod was slow, heavy. "No. But maybe... I can save someone else."

The weight of his words lingered between them.

Tentatively, Amara reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining.

"I don't want to be saved," she confessed, voice trembling. "But... maybe I don't want to drown alone either."

Lucian's hand tightened around hers, the silence between them deepening-not heavy with fear, but charged with the fragile hope of two fractured hearts finding shelter in each other.

The storm outside faded, but the one within Amara raged on-except now, she wasn't facing it alone.