Sincerely, Marlena

86

Sincerely, Lucien.

The room buzzed with activity as everyone scurried around, finalizing the details of our next move. Maps and supplies were spread across the table, voices clashed over tactics, and the weight of the impending attack loomed over us all.

Marlena was a notable presence amidst the chaos, but her demeanor was oddly distant. She drifted from one corner of the room to another, her mind clearly elsewhere. My attempts to gauge what was troubling her were met with cold, clipped responses, and her reluctance to open up only fueled my growing frustration.

The younger brothers, Mylo and Isaac, exchanged glances, their concern for Marlena evident but their understanding limited. They weren't privy to the deeper layers of what was happening, unlike the older ones. Beckham and Santiago, in particular, seemed to have a clear grasp of the situation but remained tight-lipped, their silence adding to the tension that hung in the air.

I tried to catch Marlena's eye as she passed by, but she avoided my gaze with practiced ease. It was infuriating, not just because she was withholding, but because it seemed to be complicating our already strained interactions.

"Lucien, we need to finalize these plans," Nathaniel called, snapping me from my thoughts. "We don't have time to waste."

I nodded, though my mind was still on Marlena. The issue between us hadn't faded; if anything, it had intensified, simmering just beneath the surface. When I finally confronted her about it, the conversation quickly descended into another argument over the plans.

"I don't see why you're so insistent on this approach," I said, my voice sharp as I leaned in close. "We've already discussed it, and it's not practical."

Marlena crossed her arms, her eyes flashing with irritation. "And I don't see why you're so fixated on making changes that don't fit our current situation. It's not going to work, Lucien."

The heated exchange drew the attention of those nearby, though they tried to maintain their focus on the planning. Her stubbornness was grating, but I couldn't ignore the undeniable pull I felt toward her. The tension between us was palpable, almost electric, and it was hard to ignore the way our arguments always seemed to end with us standing too close, words mingling with breath.

Finally, in a moment of shared exasperation, Marlena's gaze dropped, and she sighed deeply. "What's the point in arguing if we're just going to keep going in circles?"

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and unresolved conflict. As if drawn by an invisible force, I reached out and closed the distance between us. Our arguments had always led to something more, a physical expression of the unresolved tension that simmered beneath our surface.

Before either of us could second-guess ourselves, I pulled her closer, my lips crashing against hers in a fierce kiss. The intensity of the moment was raw, fueled by the frustration and desire that had been building for too long. Her initial shock gave way to a fervent response, her hands gripping my shoulders as she pressed against me.

The kiss deepened, our bodies pressing together in a way that spoke of everything we'd tried to ignore. I could feel the heat of her body against mine, the urgency of our need translating into every touch and caress. The arguments, the secrets, the strained interactions—all seemed to dissolve in the fervor of the moment.

When we finally pulled apart, breathless and disheveled, the reality of our situation settled back in. Marlena's eyes were dark with unspoken emotion, and I could sense the complexity of her feelings.

"What now?" she asked, her voice a mix of challenge and vulnerability.

I studied her, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. "I don't know," I admitted, my voice low. "But we need to figure it out."

Her expression softened slightly, and for a moment, it felt as though we might find some clarity.