Both of them leaned against the railing, gazing down at the garden maze below. Fireflies drifted through the hedges like tiny lanterns, their light weaving a gentle rhythm in the dark.
The serenity of it all stood in sharp contrast to the world behind them: the music, the false laughter, the greed disguised as cheer. Out here, everything felt clean.
Lucien caught the faint scent of cigarette smoke and turned his head slightly. Edmund already had one between his fingers, the ember glowing like a lazy star.
Right, he came here for the same reason.
Lucien slipped a small silver case from his pocket, took out a cigarette, and placed it between his lips. But when he patted his jacket, the lighter was nowhere to be found.
"Damn… Vincent must be behind this," he muttered, clicking his tongue.
His stepbrother had been on a campaign to keep him from smoking, ever since that faint trace of asthma when he was younger. But the asthma symptoms had long stopped, unlike Vincent's nagging.
"Come here," Edmund said, tilting his head slightly. He bent down, his cigarette still burning between his lips.
Lucien hesitated, then stepped closer until their shoulders nearly brushed. The faint scent of whiskey clung to Edmund's skin. It was warm, smoky, and intoxicating.
'Is this what an alpha smells like?'
The tips of their cigarettes touched. A soft fssst broke the silence, the small flame catching as Lucien's cigarette came alive. He didn't look away. Not once.
The flicker of firelight painted Edmund's features, his sharp brows, the faint furrow on his temple as he focused, the way his hair fell slightly out of place. And those eyes, green like a lake under moonlight, calm on the surface but dangerous beneath.
Lucien's throat tightened. His mind, traitorous as always, was wondering how that face looked twisted in pleasure, how that body moved when pressed against another. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak before his imagination ran wild.
"Is the cigarette more interesting to you than me?" he asked with a smirk, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.
Edmund's lips twitched. "No, just nervous. You are the new Don of Lucero, after all. Wouldn't want to get shot for staring too long."
Lucien kicked him lightly on the foot, making Edmund laugh under his breath. He looked away, pretending not to care, but the silence that followed left a bitter taste.
He'd hoped for something—anything—to happen tonight. But with Edmund, there was always that distance. Always that polite wall he couldn't cross.
'Maybe because I'm not honest enough,' he thought.
Maybe if he'd just confessed, back when things were simpler, when love wasn't tangled with politics and power… but no. His pride wouldn't allow rejection.
He was too petty for that.
And besides, his father had spent years turning Lucero's greatest enemy into their strongest ally.
He couldn't risk undoing it all for something as fragile as his heart.
"Is a cigarette kiss not enough for you?"
The question made Lucien's eyes widen. For a moment, he could not tell if Edmund was joking or serious. The alpha was never the type to play with such words, not with him.
Lucien laughed softly, trying to brush off the sudden heat in his chest. "Of course it doesn't. Will you give me a real kiss then?"
He expected Edmund to smirk, to tease him, to change the subject as always. Yet the man only stared at him as if he had said something unexpected. The silence between them thickened, stretching until Lucien almost regretted his own words.
Then Edmund stepped closer.
Lucien felt the shift of air between them, his breath caught when that tall, broad figure moved into his space. He instinctively took a small step back, but Edmund reached out and caught his hand, firm yet gentle.
His face lowered until their foreheads almost touched, and the world seemed to narrow around the warmth of his skin and the faint scent of whiskey lingering on his breath.
Their lips met.
The taste was both bitter and sweet, like whiskey and smoke, yet there was a strange gentleness in it that made Lucien's chest ache.
His hand moved on its own, pressing lightly against Edmund's chest, feeling the heartbeat racing under his palm.
This was his first kiss. The first time his heart had ever beaten that fast. The first time someone made him feel both weightless and alive.
When they parted, Edmund's usual coldness had melted into something Lucien had never seen before. There was a faint blush on his face, and his eyes shone with a warmth that felt almost unreal.
"I always thought you were beautiful," Edmund said softly. "But now, my heart feels like it might burst just by looking at you."
Lucien laughed, trying to hide the nervous thrill running through him. "You sound like a virgin when you say things like that."
Edmund smiled at him. His hand slid around Lucien's waist and drew him closer, their bodies brushing lightly. He rested his head on Lucien's shoulder, his voice low and calm.
"It is only you in my heart."
Lucien did not know if it was a joke or the truth that should never have been spoken. He said nothing, only listened to the sound of Edmund's heartbeat.
It was fast and uneven, just like his own, and for that brief moment, he was glad he wasn't the only one trembling.
And just like that, their relationship shifted into something strange yet intoxicating. It was neither friendship nor love, but something that lived quietly between.
A brush of lips when no one was watching, a fleeting touch of fingers beneath the table, the brief exchange of glances that said far more than their words ever could.
It was just like a childish love that felt tender and pure. Something warm in the dark world he live in.
Lucien didn't ask for more. He didn't dare. Greed would only ruin what little they already had.
But time, as always, was cruel.