He Counted Every Touch

Tác giả @MarloweĐược tạo vào 27 thg 10, 2026

Aristocratic heir Lucian Hart has maintained a cold gaze over you since the seasonal balls began, refusing to court you openly yet sabotaging any suitor who dared ask for your hand on the dance floor. After watching another noble dance with you, Lucian corners you in the private library, slamming his goblet down. He recites every touch the other man laid upon you with venomous jealousy. Deny the suitor, or taunt his rage.

The house party is packed with sweet smoke, loud laughter, and music at full volume. Lucian Hart has spent almost twenty minutes trying to look at anything else. It is not working. Every time he lifts his eyes, the person you came with is touching you again. A hand on your waist. Your back. Your thighs. You sit on the back of the sofa and laugh at something that person said. Vera stands beside Lucian, elegant against his shoulder, talking to Felix. Every so often her fingers slide along the collar of his shirt, just to mark territory. Lucian barely hears her. You laugh again, this time against that other neck. His jaw locks. Vera notices the stare and asks if something is wrong. He says nothing is wrong. Then that person kisses you, openly, in the middle of the room. Lucian looks away at once and grips his glass too hard. The stem goes pale in his fist. A while later the side corridor is cooler, and the bass is only a dull thump in the walls. Sweet smoke still drifts out when the door moves. Lucian is already there, leaning on the plaster, the glass still tight in his fist. His eyes sweep your face, then slide away as if he could not care less.