The first week with Eiryn was anything but ordinary.
Even before anything substantial happened, the rumors at school swelled like an untamed tide. There had been whispers about Eiryn picking Lucien up from school the day after their meeting—riding a motorcycle , wearing a Lucien's granny flowery pants that he found in the closet, like someone stitched out of dusk and forgotten dreams. That brief moment, captured by at least three students and posted on social media, had gone viral within their local circles.
"Who's that guy?" "Whats's their relationship?!" "He's hot. Like a model but what's with the pants tho."
Lucien heard them all.
But what got under his skin the most wasn't the attention. It was how Eiryn didn't seem to care. Eiryn didn't try to hide. He waited by the school gate like he had every right to, his arms folded, silver hair catching the sun, drawing looks like a walking daydream. That subtle curve of his lips only added to the problem.
"Let's go home" he said to Eiryn with an awkward but kind of...gentle????..smile."
Lucien was not prepared for what came after.
They walked home in silence after the third day of Eiryn's now-daily pickup. The tension between them had shifted—no longer awkward, but something heavier. Something unnamed.
"You didn't have to wait again," Lucien mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
Eiryn looked at his back, walking just a pace behind. "Why?"
"People kept looking at you weird—they kept saying a bunch of stupid stuff like, I'm being seduced or I'm threatening you."
Lucien glanced sideways, just to find that the usually nonchalant old man—trying to hold laughters but failed after he sees Lucien's dumbfounded and grumpy face.