When I returned to the real world, guilt weighed heavily on me. I got lost in my thoughts—of course, they kept wandering back to Lucian.—
And yet… his presence, his scent, even his touch felt unreal, almost divine. How was I supposed to make sense of that? He is a demon. I should stay away from him.
Seriously, Cristina—are you really thinking about a demon?
As usual, I ordered pizza. Whenever I felt low or needed time to think, food or coffee was my comfort. It's a typical girl thing, I guess.
I also decided to start working part-time at a café. I already have money, but what else am I supposed to do? It felt better to learn the ropes first, gain experience, and someday, in the future, I would own my own house… and my own café. My café.
Maybe if I kept myself busy, my thoughts would have less room to take over. I've always been introverted, but who knows? Maybe I'd even make a friend or two at the café.
I searched online and found a part-time job at a café. I went for an interview, and they told me I could start the next day. The place was beautiful—warm lights, the smell of fresh coffee, and a small bakery section filled with pastries.
They weren't paying much, but that didn't matter. They would teach me everything—making drinks, serving customers, handling orders and money, even a little about the bakery.
I came home and collapsed onto the sofa, muttering, "I hate you, Lucian," under my breath. After a while, I forced myself up and got ready for my job at the demon's office. Then, finally, I went to sleep.
I entered the demon gate, completed the formalities, and walked through the corridors toward the cabin. I was just about to call Alexander when my telephone rang.
"Cristina, what did you do?" Alexander asked the moment I answered.
"Nothing," I replied quickly.
"Sir called me and scolded me," he continued, his voice low. "I was terrified. Honestly, I thought he might kill me if I were standing in front of him. I still don't understand why he didn't say anything to you."
Then he let out a small, nervous laugh. "Hehehe… you're a girl. That's why. He's a demon, yes—but he's also a man."..
Then his tone turned serious. "Listen, Cristina… he scolded me a lot and never told me the reason. I didn't even have the courage...
"I just took the portrait book and asked it to make Lucian's portrait," I said softly. "That's all."
"What?" Alexander exclaimed. "Do you have any idea how serious that is? This has never happened before." He lowered his voice, disbelief slipping into it. "You're the first person to do something like this. Honestly…" he paused, then added, "it feels like you don't even fear him anymore."
Cristina let out a small, awkward laugh.
Alexander said "Please, Cristina," "Don't do anything like this again. Otherwise, I don't know how long I'll survive here."
I nodded silently.
"Okay, bye," he said, and the call disconnected..
I felt a mix of anger and guilt—angry that he shouted at Alexander, guilty and scared about what I did yesterday. Then I realized I hadn't even taken the money from yesterday; it was still there.
What if he gets even angrier… I murmured to myself...
Hmm… I don't care, I thought, a faint smile tugging at my lips.
Alexander himself had said it—Lucian was a gentle demon.
"Hehehe," I let out a quiet, nervous laugh.
I went to the library, where all the books and shelves looked like they could almost topple over because of Lucian. In reality, I was so scared and guilty that I didn't have the courage to face him. I thought I'd keep myself busy—reorganize the library, put everything back in order...
Soon, it was time for his visit to the cabin, and I flinched at the sound of the open gate. What if he comes to the library? I whispered to myself, shivering.
Well. .. I already have work to do here. So I kept picking up books from the floor and placing them on the table. I didn't hear anything from the cabin, I talk to myself . Did he come? What is he doing? Working… why not? He made the library look like this, and I'm supposed to put all these books back on the shelves? Whatever
Suddenly all the books that were on the table lifted into the air and moved back onto the shelves, and even the shelves that had fallen were raised and set back into place.
I stood frozen, staring at the shelves. How… how did this happen? My mind couldn't process what I had just seen.
Then a calm, unfamiliar voice spoke from behind me.
"It's done, Cristina. Anything else?"
My heart lurched violently. I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth, terrified I might scream.
"L-Lucian…" I whispered.
"Yes," he replied calmly.
"How… how do you know what I was saying," I asked shakily, "when you were in the cabin?"
A soft, controlled chuckle drifted from the cabin.
"I hear everything, Cristina."
A chill ran down my spine.
"Then… everything I've said before?" My voice trembled. "All of it?"
"Yes."
My face burned with embarrassment. "But Alexander told me you can only see, not listen."
Lucian laughed quietly again, calm—almost amused. "You use that little brain of yours well when it comes to books," he said, a faint edge of mockery in his voice.
"We are demons. Our power has no small limits." cristina..
."Lucian… if you can hear me," I said quietly, "then I have so many questions I can't ask while standing in front of you."
Lucian spoke again, his voice low, carrying a trace of regret. "I know."
I swallowed. "First… why did you scold Alexander? It wasn't his fault."
"I know," Lucian repeated calmly.
"Then you should have released your anger on me," I said softly. "Not on him."
"No," Lucian replied without hesitation. His voice was deep—sharp, commanding.
"Because you're a woman. And I have manners."
I frowned, confused, a slight tremor running through me. "Manners?"
"Yes," he said simply, his tone firm, almost unyielding. "A man should know how to behave in front of a woman. It doesn't matter that I'm a demon."
A brief pause followed.
I sat on the edge of the table, lost in thought, my mind racing. How can a demon be so… gentle? And respectful…?
Still trapped in my thoughts, I whispered without realizing it, my voice barely audible.
Are you really a demon, Ravenswood…?
"I can hear you, Cristina," Lucian said, his deep voice carrying quiet authority.
"I… I'm sorry. For everything," I whispered, my voice low.
"You don't have to .." Lucian replied.
After a brief pause, I gathered my courage. "Can I come to the cabin?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't have to ask," Lucian said calmly.
I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, then sat on the edge of the table, my movements cautious, restrained.
That was when I noticed Lucian.
He sat back in his chair, posture relaxed yet unmistakably commanding. My gaze betrayed me—broad shoulders, strong arms resting casually on the armrests, a lean, powerful frame that radiated both danger and control. Even seated, he dominated the space.
His half-visible form made my chest tighten. Memories surged unbidden—his sharp jaw, those intense eyes that seemed to see far more than they should. I swallowed, my breath unsteady.
Lucian shifted. He pulled his chair closer to mine, the movement deliberate, unhurried, closing the small distance between us. The air felt heavier, charged with his quiet authority. When he reached for my hand, his touch was light—gentle—but unmistakably firm, as if reminding me that he was always in control.
Warmth spread through my palm at his touch.
Then Lucian spoke, his voice slow, calm, and absolute.
"I request you," he said, each word measured and deliberate, "do not dig into our world. Its "For your safety—nothing more."
I looked down, a wave of shame washing over me.
"Is… is that your portrait, Lucian?" I whispered.
He didn't answer at first. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Then he exhaled slowly, low in his chest.
"Yes."
I opened my mouth, searching for words—any words—
"Don't make it hard, Cristina Smith," Lucian said sharply, his voice measured, restrained. He released my hand then, letting it fall away, though the weight of his presence didn't lessen. It lingered—unyielding, inescapable—pressing around me long after his touch was gone.
Lucian soon immersed himself in the books, absorbed in dense data and serious work, his deep, steady presence filling the cabin like a silent force. After a moment, he asked me to assist him. I nodded and stepped closer, careful not to look up.
We worked side by side—organizing, reading, calculating—our movements precise, synchronized, yet wordless. The air between us grew heavy with things left unsaid, as if we were both hiding something: secrets, feelings, or fears neither of us dared to acknowledge.
Time slipped away unnoticed.
When it was time for the demon to leave, Lucian straightened. With a quiet, deliberate gesture, he summoned the money onto the table, the sound sharp in the stillness.
"Take the money from yesterday and today," he said, his voice calm—unyielding, final.
..
I nodded. "Yes."
"Goodbye, Cristina Smith," Lucian said, his voice low and controlled.
"Bye, Lucian," I replied softly
I took both amounts of money, and in the next moment, I was pulled back into my world...