Lucian's mood improved the moment Celine appeared at the window. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and feel his blood rushing through his veins.
His rationality, however, was trying its hardest to act as a counterweight and to put a damper on his excitement.
Maybe it was because of the way she was acting?
Being manipulated and in control of the situation didn't make one a villain in Lucian's book, but it did make him more cautious.
Celine grabbed a pillow, ordering Togo to sit on it, then carrying the pillow to the wardrobe, closing Togo inside so it could take a nap.
"Sleep well, Togo. We will continue where we left off later," she assured the bird that it wouldn't be replaced by anything or anyone else, ever.
Lucian took a gulp of his drink after failing to show Togo who was the boss. He caressed the bottle in his arms, his new best friend, "That's the problem with birds and women. They are both birdbrained."
"..." Celine's mouth twitched at the insult but she let it slide. She tried to intentionally spike his jealousy after all, and knew he was petty enough to turn mean about it. She had praised Togo's intelligence, so Lucian wasn't calling her stupid, at least not outright.
"Did you not hear me?" Lucian asked, taking another sip, "I called you a birdbrain. Are you going to let me get away with that?"
"Is this what they call taking out your frustration on your most loved ones?" she asked herself. She then closed the wardrobe slightly to leave a gap for air, and sat down on the edge of the bed.
"No, no," Lucian moved his pointer from right to left in disagreement, "You are not my most loved one, but my only one. Birdbrained or not. You are my only one. Do you understand?"
"I don't understand. Start talking less, and drink more already," she ordered. Once her priority was set on something, nothing could change it. Especially not small talk. Years of knowing her proved that much, "Your training isn't over yet. Don't lose your progress."
Lucian placed the bottle on the nightstand and hid under the covers like a turtle, sulking that he had nobody to banter with, "So cold...My Celine is so cold. I'm not talking to her anymore. No, I'm not."
"...We will play after the training," Celine promised quietly. He felt a hand reach for his, and he opened his palm for it to find its way inside of it. "No pouncing until then."
She couldn't read his thoughts, but he still felt like she knew exactly what was on his mind. Biting and choking was a no, but pouncing? It was very much allowed. Even encouraged.
Lucian let out a long, suffering sigh, and squeezed her hand back, not wanting to let go. "I can't focus when you are near. I can't stop thinking about what I want to do to you. with you. and have you do to me..."
She fanned her face with her left hand, unaware that he could see the flush on her cheeks through his third eye. She was quite shy sometimes, and he hid beneath the covers just to witness it (not to act childish).
Voice needed to keep watch outside the brothel, leaving Lucian little time to appreciate the cute sight.
"Then you should train to be more focused, shouldn't you?"
"Some encouraging words would have been nicer, Celine. Like: 'you are doing great, you are almost there.' Or 'You are doing your best, and it shows," he said.
"How about: I won't wait forever if you don't hurry up?" she asked, "You are not the only one with needs."
"You don't have to wait for me if you don't want to." Lucian was immune to threats and blackmail. He could throw a few back in response to scare people off the same way they tried to scare him. "There's no point in fighting for someone who has given up on me, and you shouldn't either."
"You called me birdbrained, Lucian."
"Fair point," he took another deep breath, removing the sheets from his face and sat up, still holding onto her hand. He wanted to be over with the training so they could play together as soon as possible.
He resumed drinking from the bottle, and this time, he didn't stop until he finished it.
His throat felt like it was burning, but his head was clearer than it was before. He couldn't stop thinking about her threat of not waiting for him if he didn't hurry.
The more he drank, the more he remembered the past, starting with when he was a child, to when he saw the fear in his parents' eyes when they thought he was about to die. He saw how they looked at him differently afterwards, like he was no longer their son.
The memories hurt, but it all ended well, didn't it? His father had come to love him, and so had his mother.
He proved them wrong, didn't he?
So why couldn't he do the same thing with Celine?
"...You are breaking my hand, Lucian."
"Hmm?" Lucian looked down. He was squeezing her hand too hard and quickly loosened his grip, rubbing her knuckles with his fingers, "I'm sorry," he said, blowing on them to ease the pain.
Celine bent forward, unable to tell if he was drunk or not. He was still able to hold a conversation and wasn't slurring his words.
"I'm sorry," he repeated and pulled her into his embrace to apologize, "It's just...whatever bad you do to me keeps ringing in my head and I can't seem to move on from it..."
He didn't want to hurt her, not with his words, and not with his actions. That's why he told her to treat him like she wanted to be treated.
Celine pulled away to take a better look at his face. There was a slight redness to his cheeks and a glazed look in his eyes, "Don't worry, you haven't hurt me."
"Yet," he corrected anxiously, "Who knows what will happen if you keep choking and biting me."
She stroked his back. "I'll hold back, if it bothers you so much. Thought I'll definitely miss how deliciously you always react to it," she teased, her voice laced with affection.
Lucian bit the inside of his cheek. Her words sounded more genuine than usual. The opposite of the sarcastic tone she used when he straight out asked her to behave, like a strict teacher scolding a bad student.
It seemed like this approach worked better, and he should try it more often.
'She also prefers the nice Lucian, huh? I can't blame her...'
She would rather behave than risk him turning against her, or worse, losing him.
'As long as she won't cross the line, I won't either.' Lucian assured himself as he ran his fingers through Celine's hair, smoothing them out, 'I'm a nice guy after all.'
"Your training, Lucian."
"It's not working. The alcohol is doing the opposite of what it should be doing."