The next day,
In Luke's apartment,
Luke lay sprawled on the bed, one arm draped across his forehead, rubbing at his temples as if he could knead the migraine out by force. Every small sound—the creak of the floorboards, the faint hum of the fridge—felt like a hammer inside his skull.
Beside him, Selene set a paper bag down on the nightstand. Her expression hovered somewhere between concern and mild irritation.
"Why didn't you call me if that was dangerous?" she asked, her sharp eyes scanning over him like she was expecting to find hidden wounds.
Luke groaned, forcing his head up an inch before it flopped back against the pillow. "It's just a light migraine. Nothing to freak out over," he muttered. His tone was casual, but the way his face twisted when he tried to sit up made the lie obvious. The pain spiked sharply, like a hangover multiplied tenfold.
Selene raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Sure, it looks worse than a hangover."
He gave her a crooked smirk, the kind of half-hearted charm he used when he was trying to play down his suffering. "I'll survive. Probably."
His eyes wandered to the paper bag. He reached over, fishing inside like a starving man. "So… what's for breakfast?"
He pulled out a steaming cup of coffee and a simple sandwich wrapped in paper. Comfort food. He glanced at Selene, amused. She didn't eat this stuff. She didn't need to. He was her food source—and not that he minded being her private blood bar, not at all.
"Whoo… I really need this," Luke said, lifting the coffee to his lips. The heat seeped into his hands and the rich, bitter aroma made his headache a little easier to bear. He closed his eyes and took a long sip, savoring it.
Selene, however, had no patience for his moment of bliss. She unfolded a newspaper she had pulled from the bag, holding it up so he couldn't miss the headline.
"Did you cause the incident?" she asked flatly.
The bold letters screamed across the page
MONSTER VS HERO
Luke blinked, then leaned forward, crumbs of sandwich stuck to his lip. The article described chaos in Harlem—a monster tearing through streets, civilians dead, blocks reduced to rubble.
But alongside it came mention of a mysterious "hero," someone who had stepped in with powers of his own, ending the rampage but leaving fire and destruction in his wake.
Luke took another sip of his coffee, utterly unfazed. "No. Can't you read? Monster. So the monster showed up, and then the chivalrous hero—me—arrived to stop it. The destruction had nothing to do with me."
Selene's lips pressed into a thin line. "I expected as much. You're the type who never gives a straight answer."
Luke raised a brow, feigning shock. "You make it sound like I'm some kind of scammer."
She gave him a single look. A look that very clearly said: you are one.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, the memory flickering behind them. She still couldn't forget how he had bluffed his way into holding leverage with the Corvinus blood—nothing but words, confidence, and a straight face.
No plan, no real power at the time, just sheer audacity. And somehow, it had worked.
Instead, he leaned forward with a grin. "Now… give me my good morning kiss." He stretched his arms toward her, trying to pull her in.
Selene, without hesitation, stepped neatly back, dodging him.
"You didn't even brush yet," she said firmly, gesturing at the bathroom door. "You drank coffee, and the smell of alcohol—I can smell it from here. And now you want a kiss? Go and brush first."
Luke gasped as if stabbed in the heart, putting on his best heartbroken performance. "Is this how you treat me? After everything I've done for you? Saving you, feeding you, making your immortal nights less lonely?"
"I'm immune to your bad acting," Selene said without a flicker of sympathy. "Brush your teeth. Just smell your breath—no way I'm kissing you like that."
Luke froze. His eyes darted down, and he cautiously breathed into his hand. His mouth twitched at the foul mix of bitter coffee and something sharp beneath it…
Ah. Right. He remembered it now. He'd downed a bottle of beer last night to take the edge off before sleeping.
Yep. Definitely bad breath. No way could he argue against that.
"…Okay, fair point," he admitted with a grimace, dragging himself off the bed like a condemned man heading for the gallows. "But I want it on record that this is a cruel and unusual punishment."
Selene's lips curved in the faintest smirk, though her tone stayed cool. "Brush first, complain later."
After brushing his teeth, Luke finally sank into the steaming hot bathtub. The warmth wrapped around him instantly, seeping into his stiff shoulders and easing the knots of tension that had been building since last night.
The pounding in his head, though still present, dulled under the comfort of the heat.
He let out a long sigh, leaning back against the porcelain as his eyes drifted shut. The steam curled upwards, filling the room with a soft haze, blurring the edges of his thoughts.