Chapter 25 - NOT A DATE

It was awkward for Julien to sit alone with Lucius in the car without Mino.

He secretly admired the villain from not-so-afar. Twice their eyes locked and Julien had to tear himself away from his gaze. He was fidgeting nervously.​​

His heart slammed into his mouth when he heard Lucius say: "I wondered if you would join me for coffee."

What? Date? Was the villain asking him on a date?

[System: He's asking if you want a coffee. Maybe he thinks you haven't woken up yet.]

Julien subconsciously whined at System in a sneering mood.

Well. No. Not a date. Lucius laughed at his ridiculous thought. Just a chat—an interview of sorts. Then he could find out a little more about this enigmatic omega.

He cleared his throat, trying to control nerves and murmured: "Okay. Let's do coffee."

He was going to have coffee with the villain... and he hated coffee the most.

Lucius was smiling a dazzling, unguarded, natural, all-teeth-showing, glorious smile. He stood up straight, holding his hand on the car door for Julien to go first.

The doors opened and much to Julien's surprise, Lucius took his hand, clasping it with his long cool fingers. Julien made his way down the street together with him, his knees shaky and his heart in his mouth was thumping a dramatic uneven beat.

Julien wanted to withdraw his hand, but it was like something was controlling his body, making it so that he couldn't move as he wanted. He was struggling to maintain a straight face, so he looked down, feeling his cheeks turning pink.

When he peeked up at Lucius through his lashes, the other had a hint of a smile on his lips, but it's very hard to tell.

Julien didn't know what he should say to him. His mind was suddenly paralyzed with apprehension.

Julien seemed to be so innocent and as they walked onto the street Lucius questioned his motives again. He only knew that he liked the feel of omega's hand in his.

The sun was shining and the traffic was light. Lucius turned left and strolled to the corner, where they stopped waiting for the lights of the pedestrian crossing to change. He was still holding Julien's hand.

No one had ever held Julien's hand. He felt giddy and he tumbled all over.

They walked four blocks before they reached the coffee shop. Lucius released Julien to hold the door open so he could step inside.

Lucius asked very politely: "Why don't you choose a table while I get the drinks? What would you like?"

Julien flushed a beet red: "I'll have, um, grape juice."

Lucius raised his eyebrows: "No coffee? You look tired."

Julien stared down at his knotted fingers: "I don't like coffee."

Lucius smiled: "Anything to eat?"

Julien shaked his head: "No, thank you."

Lucius headed to the counter. Julien surreptitiously looked at him. Today the villain was wearing casual clothes. He wore dark-coloured jeans with a white shirt and a pair of leather shoes. Lucius was tall, large and broad-shouldered. He was really suited to Julien's taste.

Julien stared down at his hands again, not liking where his wayward thoughts were heading.

Lucius was back: "What are you thinking about?"

Julien went crimson. He shook his head.

Lucius carried a tray, which he set down on the small, round, birch-veneer table. He handed Julien a glass of juice as for him it was black coffee. He put the tray aside, sat opposite Julien and crossed his long legs. He prompted him: "Your thoughts?"

Julien's voice was breathy: "Nothing important."

Lucius frowned. He knew Julien was hiding something: "You seem nervous around me."

Julien whispered: "I'm ah."

Lucius asked as he sipped his coffee: "Why? If I'm not wrong, you are this way from our first meeting."

Julien glanced at him and the villain gave him an encouraging but wry smile: "I just find you scary."

Lucius noded: "You should find me scary."

This was bewildering for Julien: "Ah?"

Lucius breathed: "It gives me some sort of clue what you might be thinking."

And then he added: "You're a mystery, Julien."

Julien's pupils narrowed: "Mysterious? Me? There's nothing mysterious about me."

Lucius murmured: "There are many things."

Julien sucked in a shaky breath, feeling his throat constrict. Panic rose like bile in his body.

Could Lucius know something that he is not original Julien from this world?

[System: It's impossible.]

System words calmed him down a little: "Do you always make such personal observations?"

Lucius sounded a little surprised: "Have I offended you?"

Julien answered truthfully: "No, but you're quite overbearing."

Lucius raised his eyebrows and, if Julien was not mistaken, he flushed slightly: "I'm just used to getting my own way, Julien."

Was he trying to warn him off?

He was smiling kindly at him: "Do you have any other identity that no one knows about?"

Julien was trying to suppress his rising panic in voice as his brain was running fast: "Chef."

Lucius arched his eyebrow slightly as Julien lied self-consciously before him: "Have you cooked anything this week?"

Julien cleared his throat: "No."

Lucius asked: "Could you name one or two dishes?"

Julien said simply: "Boiled dumplings."

Lucius's voice was warm, possibly amused, but it was difficult to tell from his impassive expression. He looks mildly interested, but above all, polite: "What's the filling?"

Julien stuttered: "Fast frozen dumpling from the supermarket."

He was feeling so antagonistic towards Lucius.

The villain was too much of a bully, there was no other explanation, and part of Julien was thinking maybe it would have been better to not come here with him.

All this talk reminded him that he should stay away from him. Julien glanced at his watch: "I would better go."

Lucius cocked his head to one side, running his index finger across his lower lip: "I will send you back."

Julien blinked rapidly: "There is no need. Thank you for the juice, Mr. Valentinus."

Lucius only smiled odd as he waved Julien farewell. He watched omega go, hoping that he'll give him a second look, but he didn't. Julien disappeared behind the building, leaving in his wake a trace of regret and the memory of his bright peach blossom eyes.