When Selene reached the apartment, she found Vincent waiting outside.

Vincent was a model of gentleness-a university professor whose scholarly demeanor clung to him like well-worn parchment.

He lifted the bag of groceries in his hand and beamed. "Are you done with your meetings?"

Selene paused mid-step, gave a slight nod, and unlocked the door.

Vincent followed her inside, naturally changing into indoor shoes at the entrance before handing her a pair, asking, "What do you want to eat?"

Selene yawned and sprawled onto the couch in the living room. "Anything simple."

Vincent took the apron hanging nearby and approached her. Bracing his hands on the back of the couch, he leaned over her reclined form and studied her face.

Selene, on the other hand, kept her eyes closed but knew exactly what he was doing.

"Professor Calloway," she muttered drowsily. "I've been terrified of teachers since childhood."

He chuckled softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair away from her cheek.

Selene didn't avoid his touch. She was simply too tired at this point.

later,

a delivery. She forced herself up and shuffled

clear she wasn't going to move. A frown creased her brow

came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl, seemingly unaware that there was a guest. In a casual tone, he said, "Selene, come grab the dishes." In the next second, Damien shoved the door open with

out. He was just about to go out to check when he collided

dishes and the chicken soup steaming on the counter. His lips curled

drowsiness vanished

this is, save it for another

smiling as he said, "Sure, Another day, then. But since I'm already here, I might as well try Professor Calloway's cooking

could react. His voice was warm as

two of them made Damien seem like an intruder who had forced his way into a

his chest, and he seethed with the need to stare Selene into

thought he was doing here barging

sets of dishes,

had only eaten bread and drunk

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