***
After finishing her shower, Diana stepped out of the bathroom into the guest room, wrapped snugly in a towel. She paused, gazing around the space once more. The cozy atmosphere struck her again—messy yet not unclean, with books stacked haphazardly on a nightstand and a faint scent of aged wood and lavender lingering in the air. It felt inexplicably warm, like an embrace she couldn't quite name, stirring a quiet longing in her chest.
Shaking off the reverie, she gathered her thoughts and changed into the clothes Lucian had lent her: casual pants and a sweater-like cardigan in a soft bluish hue. They fit loosely over her well-developed frame, draping just enough to accentuate her remarkable curves and narrow waist despite the relaxed cut—an ironic allure that made her feel both hidden and revealed. Beneath it all, she kept her armor on, a familiar weight against her skin. Her past had taught her never to drop her vigilance, no matter how welcoming the moment.
Emerging into the living room, she caught sight of Lucian from the corner of her eye, moving with easy confidence in the kitchen. Surprise flickered across her features as she drifted closer, the savory aroma of melting cheese and herbs drawing her in like a siren's call.
"Hi," Lucian said without turning, his voice warm and casual. "Grab a seat on the couch—food'll be ready soon."
Diana raised an elegant eyebrow, a hint of amusement softening her guarded expression. "The couch? Not the dining table?"
He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips as he slid ingredients onto a dough base. "We're watching a movie tonight. As much as I enjoy fine dining, today calls for comfort and indulgence. I'd rather drop the pretenses—it's annoying and boring to play formal in my own home."
A soft chuckle escaped her, genuine and light, cutting through the quiet hum of the kitchen. She liked his brazenness, the unfiltered honesty that bridged the gap between them. In the man's world she was still navigating, politeness often built walls; between potential friends—or something more—it felt like a needless barrier.
She leaned against the kitchen wall beside a sturdy pillar, arms crossed loosely as she watched him work. His hands moved with practiced grace, layering cheese, tender chicken pieces, vibrant vegetables—peppers, onions, mushrooms—all arranged in a tantalizing circular pattern on the dough. The oven's heat radiated subtly, carrying promises of something new and comforting.
"What is this... bizarre dish?" she asked, her voice laced with curiosity, eyes fixed on the creation.
Lucian paused, meeting her gaze with a slow grin. "Pizza. Homemade, of course. I reckon you haven't had it yet?"
Diana nodded, her silver hair catching the light as she tilted her head. "It's only been recently that I've ventured into the outside world, truly living in it. There are... so many things still unknown to me."
His grin widened, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then you'll love this, Diana. There's not a single person I know who doesn't crave a good pizza now and then. It's one of those simple joys that sneaks up on you."
She held his stare, a flicker of suspicion dancing in her eyes— was he hyping it too much, or was this food truly so divine? The intensity of his gaze lingered a beat too long, sending a subtle warmth uncoiling through her. She let the doubt fade, pushing off the wall to settle onto the couch, the soft cushions yielding invitingly beneath her.
Just as she sank down, Lucian's voice carried from the kitchen, playful and sincere. "By the way, I forgot to say—I was a bit taken aback earlier—but you look beautiful in that outfit."
Diana stilled, the compliment catching her off guard. No blush colored her cheeks, but a sudden glow bloomed in her chest, soft and insistent, like sunlight piercing clouds. She smiled gracefully, turning her head toward him. "As do you in that cloth you call an apron. It suits you... surprisingly well."
From the corner she couldn't see, Lucian grinned wider, the easy rhythm of their banter wrapping around him like the kitchen's warmth. "Flattery from a warrior? I'll take it. By the way do you know about movies ?" Diana paused, a subtly raised eyebrow of hers was enough to indicate her speechlessness " I have, I quite like historical ones ... reminds me of the past" the statement could be taken out of context as her indirectly indicating that she was far older than him so he shouldn't underestimate her too much.
Lucian grinned, silently taking the sentence as casual teasing " My, My, that's great then,
Any requests for the movie? Action, something fantastical... or maybe a romance to match the mood?"
She laughed softly again, the sound bridging the room between them. "Surprise me. But nothing too saccharine—I've had enough pretense for one lifetime."
"Deal," he replied, his tone dropping just a notch, intimate across the space. "Comfort, luxury, and a little mystery. Sounds perfect."
As the oven timer ticked softly in the background, Diana leaned back, the unfamiliar ease of the moment settling over her like the loose sweater—loose, yet perfectly fitted.
****
After a while, Lucian emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Pizza's almost ready—just needs a few more minutes to bake to perfection," he said with a warm smile. Right then, the doorbell chimed, cutting through the soft hum of the movie previews playing in the background.
He crossed the room swiftly and returned moments later, carrying a nondescript package. Setting it on the coffee table, he caught Diana's raised eyebrow. With deliberate slowness, he unpacked it: a steaming box of KFC chicken wings and a side of golden chicken popcorn. Lucian's grin widened, boyish and unapologetic. "Even if I'm whipping up homemade pizza, I can't resist these. Wings for the win, and the popcorn... well, it's my guilty pleasure."
Diana tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Chicken popcorn? What's that mixture?"
Lucian's smile softened, his gaze turning inward for a beat, as if unearthing a cherished secret. "It's more than just food for me. Holds memories of my days of happiness, rainy days hiding from the world... pure indulgence wrapped in nostalgia, that sometimes feel like they were from a past life." His voice dipped lower, vulnerability flickering across his features, drawing her in like a shared whisper.
Diana blinked, surprised by the sudden shift—the air between them thickening with unspoken intimacy. But Lucian pivoted smoothly, gesturing to the couch. "Come on, get comfortable. I picked something light: a zombie fantasy flick. Nothing too heavy."
Noticing him changing the topic she didn't dwell on it as everyone has a past, "What are zombies?" she asked, settling deeper into the cushions, her tone teasing yet genuinely intrigued.
" Undead basically, Corpses rising from the grave coming up to eat people's brains " Diana subtly shifted her gaze at the ludicrousy behind that logic but didnt call him out.
He chuckled, queuing the movie. "It's fun picking apart the characters' dumb mistakes—like, why run *toward* the horde? Plus, the thrills and jump scares? Adrenaline rush. Keeps things exciting." *Of course, he'd never admit he pegged her as the type to laugh at the screen's chaos,* he thought, *praising the idiots mid-bite. Heroic epics might suit her fire, but I can't stand those drawn-out sagas. Compromise feels right tonight—not for a fling, but something real. Pride be damned if it means enjoying this with her.*
Diana had no inkling of his inner debate, but she appreciated the thoughtfulness. Epic tales of heroism had shaped her childhood—grand quests sung by firelight—but she craved novelty, especially with him. "Fair enough," she said, her lips curving. "I am in the game. Let's see what this world's nightmares look like."
Lucian snorted, and chuckled " Wrong again Milady___ the phrase is *I'm game * " Diana snatch the chicken popcorn from his hands
"Silence ... You can dissect my wordings later movies starting " she grumbles embarassed to which Lucian softly smiles setting down next to her while she devours the food as if to forget her mistake, making Lucian smirk and join the battle.
Minutes ticked by, the pizza's savory aroma weaving through the room like a promise. The movie hit the twenty-minute mark when Lucian paused it briefly. "Be right back—pizza's calling." He dashed to the kitchen, plating thick slices oozing with cheese and toppings, his heart lighter than it had been in ages.
Returning, he found Diana utterly absorbed, her commentary flowing freely. "This is blasphemy! Waking the dead for such foolish reasons? Mortals and their hubris..." Yet her eyes betrayed her—wide with tension, fingers digging into the throw pillow, nails leaving faint crescents in the fabric as the heroine sprinted from a shambling zombie mob.
Lucian set the plates down quietly, a smug inward snicker escaping him. *Well, what do you know? Turns out Wonder Woman might just become a thriller junkie because of me.*
She caught his sly smile and arched a brow. "What's so funny? Spill it."
He shook his head, feigning innocence as he handed her a slice, their fingers brushing—a spark that lingered. "Just glad you're into it. Your commentary's gold."
Diana took a bite, savoring the melt of mozzarella before replying. "Skeptical at first—the plot felt so contrived. But now? I *need* to know if she finds respite, and what sparked this apocalypse. It's... gripping." Her voice softened, unguarded, as if the screen's peril mirrored something stirring within her.
She absentmindedly reached for a chicken wing next, devouring it with relish, words fading into comfortable silence. Lucian watched from the corner of his eye, his slice forgotten. Her side profile glowed in the TV's flicker—cheek flushed, lips glistening with sauce, eyes alight with fierce investment. *Staring like this... it stirs something deep. Maybe settling down, compromising again, wouldn't be so bad. With her, it feels like home.*
(A;N: Relax our boi's not a simp)
Emboldened, he leaned closer, their shoulders touching. "You know, Diana, seeing you like this—lost in the story, unguarded—it's beautiful. Makes me want more nights like this."
She turned, meeting his gaze, a shy warmth blooming in her chest. "Really? Even with my rants about corpses?"
"Especially with them," he murmured, his hand finding hers on the couch. "You're full of surprises. Stay for the end?"
Her fingers intertwined with his, a quiet promise. "Wouldn't miss it."
***