It looked like a square pendant, small and beautifully decorated. Her drawing and jewellery making hobby had progressed leaps and bounds. When Lucian slid the lid open, he heard a clicking sound.
She sat up, scooting to his side, and took it from him, showing him how to use it.
"You have to slide the lid and then flick to the side, like this," she said as a small fla ca out, illuminating her face in a dim orange light.
She handed it back to him. Lucian tried to do the sa, failing a few tis until he finally succeeded.
"How does the chanic work?" he asked, turning it around.
Celine got off the bed. She went to look for a piece of paper on her desk while Lucian lit a few candles with his new toy, before closing it.
"I love it, thank you." He pulled her to sit on his lap when she ca back.
She sketched the chanism on paper and explained how the friction created sparks and ignited the fuel.
Lucian could listen to her for hours and still want more. He had a weakness for her voice that he couldn't shake off.
He focused on the drawing as she explained, nodding his head. It was an interesting chanism, and he had to think about a way to use it in his projects.
She was hiding such a gift away, and the thought of it made him sad and angry.
'Why?' was the question that kept nagging him. 'Why did the gods create such a brilliant person, only for the world to fear her existence?'
He nibbled on her neck to shake away the bad thoughts. He preferred to be distracted with the good things like her.
Cuddling, teasing, chatting about the new ideas and inventions, and then more cuddling.
He didn't need any advice or guidance, and neither did she. His feelings were a ss, and he didn't want others to get involved, because what would they understand anyway?
Being a chatterbox didn't an sharing his hardships, it ant sharing the fun and joy. Celine never complained about her life and he didn't either. She would share her fears like earlier about her image in his eyes, but she couldn't stay vulnerable for long.
Maybe she did it to bring out his protective instincts, maybe she didn't (you never knew with Celine). But the result was the sa. She wanted to be cuddled, pampered, and cared for, and that's what he did.
Rubbing her neck with his lips, going through her hair with his nose, and getting a good fill of her presence in his arms, Lucian felt content.
"My heartbeat, Lucian," she said, "I don't want my underwear to end up soaked."
His ears turned red at the image, but he didn't want to stop yet, "It's only fair that it gets soaked on both sides," he whispered, pressing his mouth against her skin again, "I don't want to be the only one with a problem."
"..." She gave him a side glance and continued to draw. "Are you still not going to take care of that?"
"Not until you take care of yours first," he replied.
She turned to him and gave him a look that said, 'seriously?' She couldn't just pop her cherry before marriage.
"There must be a way to take the edge off," Lucian muttered as he thought about it, "Without poking a hole through your precious gift of innocence."
"..." She lifted the papers and looked down at her body, "Do you want to take a look at it? I doubt it will make you lose control of yourself like they say. I can't see what's so special about it."
Lucian swallowed at her suggestion, his eyes trailing down her chest, to her belly and to her hips. "Mm, I've seen a few, you know when, and I also don't understand the appeal."
"Right, when I saw what n in the barracks carry between their legs, I had an urge to run for the hills," she said, not comnting on the instances when Jax's courtesans flashed themselves before Lucian, "It looks like a fleshy slug."
They never showed interest in seeing each other's genitals, simply because they thought it would make them look uglier in each other's eyes.
He touched the tip of her nose with his finger, "But if it's you, then it's probably the cutest, prettiest, most perfect one in the world."
"Ugh, your expectations are way too high," she grimaced, "There is no way I can live up to that. You are going to be disappointed and won't want to touch ever again."
"Impossible," Lucian scoffed. He traced the line of her jaw with his knuckle, "It can't be any uglier than a slug."
"Show yours and then we can talk," she said and turned to face him, "Loving you less might be a good thing. I would feel better about myself if I didn't love you so much."
"Noooo," Lucian hid his crotch with his hands, hiding away from her as she began to grope him through his trousers, "I refuse to be loved any less!"
"Co on," she purred, trying to coax him into surrendering to her, "I promise I will kiss it better to make it feel less ugly," she smiled as his body twitched in response to her words. She was tempting him, her voice sultry.
"...it won't make feel better," Lucian argued, even as his body urged him to let her do whatever she wanted to it. It was a battle against his own flesh, "What if you throw up at the sight of it? I don't think I will ever recover from such rejection."
"You are not going to deny yourself on your birthday by not letting spoil you, are you?" she said, her eyes shining with a mischievous gleam, "You know how I get when I don't get what I want."
Lucian's stomach did a flip as her fingers tangled with his, pulling his hand away.
He perford well in his fantasies, but reality had a way of turning into a nightmare, and he was not ready to face it yet, "You know people usually do naughty things in the dark, right? There must be a reason…I think it's better to leave it to the imagination."
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