CHAPTER 5 – IF ONLY YOU WERE HUMAN

Morning had arrived, but Elara still felt the weight of exhaustion pressing against her skull. Her sleep had been anything but restful. All night long, she had the unsettling sensation that something—or someone—was lurking outside her window. A faint shadow behind the curtains, the delicate snap of a twig breaking in the silence of the night.

She tried to convince herself it was just her imagination, but every time she closed her eyes, the unease returned. Eventually, just before dawn, fatigue finally won over her restlessness.

Now, with her eyes still half-closed, Elara stepped out of her room. The air inside Lucien’s house was cool, the soft morning light streaming through the large windows in the living room. She followed the faint scent of coffee drifting through the air, leading her straight to the kitchen.

And that was where she saw him.

Lucien D’Arcy—the man wrapped in mystery and danger—was standing in the kitchen, a black apron tied over his plain white shirt. His long fingers moved effortlessly as he poured coffee into a porcelain cup. His hair was slightly tousled, yet somehow still perfect—like he had just stepped out of a classical painting.

Elara murmured under her breath, her thoughts slipping out before she could stop them.

"If only you were human…"

Lucien froze. His back remained to her, but his head tilted slightly, as if he had heard something.

Elara’s heart dropped. Damn. She had forgotten that vampires had incredibly sharp hearing.

Lucien turned fully now, his golden eyes locking onto hers with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. His lips curved slightly, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"You wish I were human?" he asked, his voice calm but with a teasing edge.

Heat rushed to Elara’s face. "N-No… I was just talking to myself," she blurted out quickly, avoiding his eyes.

Lucien merely raised an eyebrow before turning back to his coffee. "Then next time, you should talk to yourself more quietly," he said smoothly.

Elara groaned inwardly. Humiliating.

She walked over to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and resting her chin on one hand. "You can cook?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Lucien placed a cup of coffee in front of her before taking a seat across the table. "I've lived long enough to learn many things," he said casually. "But I rarely cook. I only do it when I feel like it."

Elara blew gently on her coffee, inhaling the warm, bitter aroma before taking a sip. "And this morning… you felt like it?"

Lucien studied her for a moment before replying, "You look like someone who needs help staying awake."

Elara blinked. "How did you know I didn’t sleep well?"

Lucien leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. "You were restless all night. I could hear your heartbeat changing rhythm several times."

Elara stiffened. "That’s… creepy."

Lucien shrugged. "It’s just a fact."

Elara sighed, taking another sip of her coffee before finally admitting, "I felt like something was outside my window last night."

Lucien didn’t respond right away. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious.

"Did you see anything?" he asked, his voice sharper now.

Elara shook her head. "Not clearly. But I know someone was there. And it was enough to keep me up all night."

Lucien stared at the table for a long moment, as if piecing something together in his mind.

"So, you felt it too…" he muttered under his breath, almost as if speaking to himself.

The room suddenly felt colder, despite the golden sunlight spilling in through the windows.

A wave of tension ran through Elara’s body. "So… we’re not safe?"

Lucien held her gaze for a long moment before finally saying, "As long as you’re here, they can’t touch you. But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop trying."

---

Elara stared at the breakfast spread in front of her. Toast with strawberry jam, scrambled eggs, and a warm cup of coffee. Everything looked… normal. Too normal.

She frowned, curiosity creeping into her mind. A vampire with a spotless kitchen, making a regular human breakfast? There were no suspicious signs—no bottles of red liquid, no metallic scent in the air, no trace whatsoever that the owner of this house was a creature of the night who was supposed to survive on blood.

Lucien, seated across from her, seemed to notice her expression. He took a casual sip of his coffee before finally asking, “Why are you looking at your food like that?”

Elara lifted her gaze, studying him for a moment before speaking skeptically. “Is this what you eat?”

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, you don’t exactly scream ‘vampire.’ There’s no blood stash in your fridge, no fancy wine glass filled with something I shouldn’t be seeing. So…” she narrowed her eyes at him, lowering her voice. “You’re not going to secretly bite me, are you?”

Lucien went still.

His sharp gaze locked onto her, his expression unreadable. The air in the room seemed to drop a few degrees in an instant.

Then, in an eerily calm voice, he said, “If that was how I survived, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Elara froze. Her heartbeat quickened.

Lucien kept watching her, as if amused by her reaction. There was something about his tone that sent a chill down her spine—not just the words themselves, but how effortlessly he said them.

“So… you don’t drink human blood?” Elara asked cautiously.

Lucien let out a short breath, setting his coffee cup down with a quiet clink. “I can, but I choose not to.”

Elara frowned. “Why?”

Lucien leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. “Do you think all vampires are like the ones you saw last night?”

Elara fell silent, remembering the terrifying creatures with glowing red eyes that had attacked Lucien.

Lucien continued, “Some of us adapt. We find other ways to survive without hunting humans.”

“Like what?”

Lucien gave a small smile, but there was something hidden behind it. “That’s not something you need to worry about right now.”

Elara sighed, grabbing a piece of toast and taking a bite, still eyeing Lucien with suspicion. “So if I stay here longer, I don’t have to worry about you attacking me in the middle of the night?”

Lucien leaned in slightly, closing the space between them. “Only if you don’t give me a reason to.”

Elara choked on her toast. “Oh my god, you’re unbearable!”

Lucien let out a soft chuckle, leaning back again. “I’m just answering your question.”

Elara groaned, rubbing her face in frustration. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Lucien simply shrugged, that mysterious smirk still lingering. “Maybe.”

This conversation should have scared her. But instead, it only made her more… curious.

Lucien wasn’t an ordinary vampire—that much was clear. But if he wasn’t like the ones who attacked him last night, then what was he?

And the bigger question—how much could she really trust him?