Jean came back into the room to find Lucien looking right where she stood. He had been staring at the door, waiting for her.
"I'm sorry, I told them to come get me if you woke." She said leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Everything alright?"
His eyes were wide and questioning, "Yes, I'm fine. They were, but when they told me you were in the chapel, I had them leave you alone ."
She sat and returned to caressing his arm, wanting to address his concerned look, but not knowing exactly what to say, or where to begin. He was sleepy, but had a spark in his eyes trying to understand. Her eyes squinted slightly and he knew.
"You don't have to tell me anything." He said knowingly. Their gaze was gripping and intense. If someone had entered the room, they would have retreated as if interrupting an intimate conversation.
They really were two halves of a whole. One shared heart that didn't need words to communicate. They had looks with a hundred different meanings and the silence that often sat between them was… intoxicating. To know someone that deeply, intimately, and completely, couldn't be wrong. There was no choice.
