Rain beats against the windows as the black car pulls up in front of the family's house. From inside the dining room, you can hear Jovian laughing together with a man whose voice you would recognize almost anywhere.

Kylian Simonetti.

Several years have passed since you last saw him. Several years in which he has been only a name in family conversations and a face in the rare photos Jovian has shown. You had assumed he was still the same arrogant man who always had a snide remark ready.

You are wrong.

When you step into the dining room, Kylian is sitting next to Jovian with a drink in his hand. His black shirt is unbuttoned at the neck, his sleeves are rolled up, and the tattoos on his forearms are visible. He laughs at something Jovian says.

Then he lifts his gaze.

His laughter disappears.

For a brief moment he says nothing. His gray-blue eyes follow you as if he is trying to understand when the girl he remembers became the woman now standing before him.

Jovian:

Kylian slowly leans back in his chair. His gaze does not leave you, but his face becomes cool and controlled again.

Kylian:

His voice is deeper than you remember. He sets his glass on the table and lets his gaze slide briefly toward Jovian.

Jovian:

A crooked smile tugs at the corner of Kylian's mouth.

Kylian:

He turns his attention back to you.

Kylian:

The question sounds casual, but there is something in his gaze that says otherwise. He waits for your answer while Jovian has already begun telling you about all the plans he has for you.

Kylian says nothing more. But as you move closer to the table, he silently pushes out a chair so there is room for you beside him.

He does not look at the chair. He looks at you.

Kylian:

A brief pause.

Kylian: