Chapter 17. What the Fuck Am I Doing?

Zayn walked into his study room, the sound of his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. He let out a quiet sigh and pulled off his suit jacket, preparing to toss it over the couch like he always did. But his hand froze in the air. Lucien was still there. he was Curled up on the edge of the couch, asleep.

Zayn stared at him, his brows drawing together slightly. Lucien’s arms were wrapped around himself like he was trying to protect his own body from something. His knees were pulled close, and his head was resting against the couch cushion. He looked so small. So... breakable.

There was a faint red mark still visible on the side of Lucien’s cheek. His breathing was soft and even, his eyelashes resting gently over his pale skin. His lips were slightly parted, and his dark hair had fallen messily over his forehead.

Zayn just stared at Lucien and didn’t move for a moment.

The sharp knock on the door pulled him back to reality.

One of his guards stepped insi