The moment the car rolled to a stop in front of the restaurant, Amara exploded out of it like she'd been spring-loaded.
Door slam.
Hair flying.
Soul escaping.
Exactly like someone who had just outrun:
a dragon breathing fire,
a demon filing paperwork,
AND an IRS agent saying "we need to discuss your last three years of taxes."
All at once.
Lucien stepped out after her with the calm grace of an immortal who had seen centuries of mortals being dramatic and had accepted it as part of his ongoing suffering.
His eyebrow lifted slowly.
Elegantly.
Patiently.
Like:
"Yes, yes. Humans running for their lives. Again. Wonderful."
Behind them, Edward and Bella stepped out.
Edward shoved both hands in his pockets with the energy of a man telling himself:
This is fine.
Everything is normal.
Definitely not responsible for three unstable creatures right now.
Bella hovered beside him, elbows bent at strange angles, clearly unsure where her limbs were supposed to exist in society.
Then there was Lucien.
Lucien switched on his polite-angelic-gentleman smile.
The kind of smile that glowed.
The kind that could get him hired for a toothpaste commercial with one audition.
The kind that said:
"Hello, I am safe. I am gentle. I will absolutely, definitely not drink you. Scouts honor."
Amara narrowed her eyes at him.
She knew that smile.
That was a practiced smile.
He absolutely practiced it.
Probably in a mirror with dramatic music.
Step 1: soften eyes
Step 2: charming smirk
Step 3: pretend not to be terrifying
Step 4: seasonal sparkle
Step 5: profit
Suspicious.
Suspicious indeed.
Before she could talk herself into a conspiracy theory, fate stepped in.
Because the restaurant doors burst open, and out came—
Jessica and Angela.
Mid-laugh.
Mid-gossip.
Mid–"we're adorable but dangerous."
They froze.
Not because of the group.
Because of the boys.
Jessica's smile slowly morphed into something wicked and playful.
Angela's grew softer, but equally mischievous.
"We waited for you guys!" Jessica announced, hair-flip so dramatic it could've caused a small earthquake. "But it was getting late, so we ate."
Angela nodded sweetly.
"But if you want… we can stay back and keep you company."
Jessica leaned forward, eyebrows wiggling at Olympic level.
"Edward and his friend—" a pause, a slow appreciative look at Lucien, "—can keep you two company too."
Lucien blinked.
Like a man who had suddenly found himself on a reality dating show without signing the contract.
Edward looked way too entertained.
Before Bella or Amara could speak, Edward smoothly said:
"Of course. He can keep Amara company."
Lucien turned toward him with the quiet rage of someone who had lived long enough to see empires rise and fall… and yet still could not escape teenage gossip.
Jessica and Angela waved like two chaotic fairies and vanished into the night.
Inside the Restaurant
Warm lights.
Gentle clinks of cutlery.
The delicious smell of food.
The place was cozy.
Homey.
Peaceful.
Which was ironic.
Because the four of them were absolutely none of those things.
Lucien took the lead, all polished manners and refined elegance.
"Table for four, please."
They were seated quickly.
Then—
Silence.
A thick, suffocating, unholy silence.
Edward folded his hands like a professional interviewee trying to appear competent.
Bella stared at her menu so intensely you'd think it held ancient spells.
Lucien sat with back straight, shoulders perfect, posture that screamed Victorian husband material.
Amara stared at the salt shaker wishing she could just… disappear inside it.
Then—salvation?
No.
The waitress arrived.
And she wasn't here to save anyone.
She was here to flirt like her rent depended on it.
She smiled brightly.
"What can I get for you tonight?"
Her eyes, however, kept drifting back toward Edward and Lucien like THEY were the forbidden specials not listed on the menu.
Lucien ignored her completely.
He turned toward Amara with that warm, deliberate, gentleman tone.
"What would you like to eat?"
Amara blinked.
"Oh—just a salad and water."
Bella nodded softly. "Same for me."
Then the vampires.
Edward offered a polite smile.
"We already ate at home."
Amara did the biggest internal eye-roll known to humanity.
Ate what? Air? Dust? Existential dread?
Lucien added kindly,
"I'm fine, thank you."
The waitress deflated like someone who had prepared her best performance and received NO applause.
She left.
And then—
Silence 2.0
Now with more awkward seasoning.
Edward and Bella slipped into their own shy conversation, whispering about school things like two characters in a teen romance film.
Lucien turned to Amara, determined to speak to her—
Attempt 1:
Lucien: "How was—"
Amara: stares at napkin like it reveals her destiny
Attempt 2:
Lucien: "Did you—"
Amara: takes a sip of water right as he speaks, perfect timing, Olympic level
Attempt 3:
Lucien: "Amara—"
Amara: studies salt shaker like she is preparing a PhD thesis titled "Salt and Society"
She wasn't ignoring him.
No.
She was deep in her brain again.
Why do I survive everything? Why am I lucky? Why do I not die? Am I secretly main character coded?? Does the universe have a crush on me??
(Rob gave her luck. But she forgot. Again.)
When the waitress finally returned with her food, Amara resurfaced.
Blink.
Look at salad.
Soft "thank you."
Lucien had a smile.
A tight smile.
A strained, painful smile.
The smile of a man who had tried speaking to her TWELVE TIMES and got nothing but:
silence
avoidance
the back of her head
Edward's shoulders shook with laughter.
Bella bit her lip to hide giggles.
Amara blinked around innocently.
"…Did I miss something?"
Lucien inhaled, long and suffering.
"Oh, nothing. I'm simply… delighted that you are enjoying my company."
Edward choked.
Bella wheezed.
Lucien questioned immortality.
Amara tilted her head, completely unaware she had emotionally bullied a old-age vampire.
Amara was peacefully munching her salad like it was the most important mission of her life, completely unaware that Lucien—ancient, elegant, unshakeable Lucien—was reaching the end of his immortal patience.
Finally, he gave up on subtlety.
"Amara… what about the prom?"
His voice was calm. Too calm.
The kind of calm that meant an immortal had snapped politely.
Amara froze.
Not physically.
Brain-wise.
Like an old Windows PC with too many tabs open.
"Huh? What prom?"
Lucien stared at her, his lips twitching like he was physically restraining a sigh thousands of years old.
"The school prom, sweetheart."
"Oh."
She shrugged lightly. "I'm not going."
Lucien didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't breathe—not that he needed to.
He froze spiritually.
Edward, across the table, coughed a laugh into his fist. Bella's eyes widened—half amused, half terrified on Lucien's behalf.
Lucien leaned forward, elbows on the table with a seriousness that did not belong in a high school cafeteria.
"Then… the prom dress shopping?"
Amara blinked at him.
Pure confusion.
Pure innocence.
"Well… a girl can never have too many dresses."
Lucien slowly leaned back in his seat like a general accepting his defeat after a long, honorable battle.
Edward lost it silently, shoulders shaking. Bella buried her face in her napkin.
Amara just smiled proudly, thinking she had said something deeply logical.
Lucien stared at her like she was both the bane of his existence and the light of his eternity.
The four of them sat there—messy, chaotic, warm.
Two immortals suffering.
Two humans confused.
And one Amara, blissfully unaware she was the cause of everything.
Lucien wasn't using his usual perfect, angelic, toothpaste-commercial smile anymore.
No.
He was smiling differently now.
Soft.
Warm.
Quietly undone.
A smile meant only for her.
And Amara, still nibbling her salad, finally looked up and really saw him—saw that softness, that warmth, that almost painfully gentle expression reserved just for her.
Her heartbeat stuttered.
She didn't know what it meant.
He did.
Edward glanced between them and groaned under his breath.
Bella elbowed him before he said something stupid.
Lucien's voice dropped to a soft murmur only she heard.
"Just so you know… if you ever change your mind about prom, I'd like to be the one you go with."
Her fork paused mid-air.
Amara blinked—slowly, thoughtfully, like she was replaying the sentence to make sure she heard correctly.
And then, with a small, shy smile she didn't even realize she was giving, she answered in a whisper:
"…I'll keep that in mind."
Lucien exhaled—too quietly for anyone mortal to notice—and the tension around the table melted into something warm, teasing, and unexpectedly tender.
For the rest of lunch, they didn't talk about prom.
But Lucien looked at her like she'd given him a reason to wait.
And Amara ate her salad, unaware that she had just changed everything.
Hey everyone!
I was away on vacation for a few days, so I couldn't update.
Thank you for your patience — I'm back now and updates will continue! 💖✨
✨ If you enjoy my story and want to support me, you can leave a tip here 👉 https:// Streamelements.Com / z1ref/tip
Your support means a lot and keeps me motivated 💖