By the time they finally stepped out of the coffee stall, Lucien's lips—which had only just returned to their normal size that morning—were a crime scene of swelling and redness once again.

Poor little lamb. T^T.

Leon, meanwhile, radiated a level of post-snack satisfaction that was frankly offensive. He reached for Lucien's hand with a smug curve to his mouth, but Lucien swiped it away with a sharp thwack.

"Do you actually know what 'pursuing' someone means?" Lucien demanded, stopping in a secluded corner to glare up at him with maximum kitten-ferocity.

Leon paused his step. "I know, baby," he said, his voice dropping into that smooth, manipulative register. "I'm doing everything I can to make you like me".

But in reality, Leon's brain was one hundred percent occupied by the way Lucien's red, pillowy lips were moving. They looked soft. He wanted to bite them again.

"You aren't!" Lucien huffed, his face flushed. "We aren't even officially dating yet. You need to stop with all the hugging and kissing".

Leon caught the tail end of that sentence and immediately closed the distance, his large hands reaching for Lucien's waist to hoist him up like a trophy. "One kiss, baby. Just one".

Lucien scrambled back two steps, palms flat against Leon's solid chest, holding him off with every ounce of strength he possessed.

"No hugging," he snapped, his face set in a stern mask of dignity. "And definitely no kissing".

Leon's brow furrowed slightly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He looked like a man being told he couldn't breathe for the next hour.

"You're currently in the 'evaluation phase,'" Lucien declared, crossing his arms over his chest to look more authoritative—an effort ruined by his oversized butler apron. "I'm docking points. You're at fifty out of a hundred right now".

Leon stared at him, genuinely stunned. "Fifty? That's failing. What was I before?".

"You were a sixty, that kiss was a violation. Minus ten points," Lucien said, raising his chin.

Leon took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "Okay. I get it".

"Good," Lucien hummed, seemingly satisfied. "Now, I need to go to the grocery store".

"I'll take you," Leon offered instantly. "I won't do anything else. I'll just be your personal porter".

Lucien hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. You can have this one opportunity to earn points back".

Lucien had expected a trip to a normal campus-side market. Instead, Leon drove them to an aggressively high-end grocery store in the affluent part of the city, the kind of place where a single milkshake cost twenty dollars and the bottled water was imported from glaciers that probably had names.

"Why are we here?" Lucien whispered, staring in horror at the price of a head of organic kale. "I'm not a billionaire, Leon".

"I am," Leon said simply, grabbing a cart. "And since I'm pursuing you, my card is yours. Think of it as a down payment on my future points".

Leon proceeded to turn the shopping trip into a hostile takeover. If Lucien so much as glanced at an item for more than five seconds, Leon threw it in the cart.

"Leon, stop! I don't even like that kind of cereal!".

"You looked at it. Maybe you'll grow into it," Leon countered, tossing in a five-pack of imported Belgian chocolate for good measure.

"Is this store yours too?" Lucien asked suspiciously, remembering the restaurant incident.

"No," Leon said, then paused. "But my family owns a significant share of the parent company".

Lucien groaned, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of the shopping cart handle. "I hate the rich. I'm docking two points for economic flex".

Leon didn't even flinch. He just leaned down, his breath warm against Lucien's ear. "Then teach me how to win you over without the money, baby. I'm a fast learner".

By the time they reached Leon's main villa—not the campus apartment, but the actual Bolton estate—Lucien was too tired to protest.

As they walked through the front door, a shrill voice echoed through the marble foyer.

"WELCOME! WELCOME!".

Lucien jumped, nearly climbing up Leon's arm. "What was that?!".

"It's just the parrot," Leon said, looking mildly annoyed as he led Lucien toward a large, ornate cage.

The parrot flapped its wings and fixed a beady eye on Lucien. "I LIKE YOU! I LIKE YOU!" it shrieked in perfectly accented Mandarin.

Lucien's jaw dropped. He looked at Leon, then back at the bird. "Did you... did you teach a parrot to hit on me in my own language?".

Leon cleared his throat, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. "We share a tutor. He's actually further ahead in the curriculum than I am".

The parrot bobbed its head. "KISS HER! KISS HER!".

"It's a 'him,' you stupid bird," Leon grumbled, though he didn't look entirely opposed to the suggestion.

Lucien burst out laughing, the tension of the day finally breaking. "Okay, fine. That's five points back for the bird. But only because he's cute".

Leon's gaze darkened as he watched Lucien giggle. He reached out, hooking a finger under Lucien's chin and tilting his face up. "The bird is cute," Leon murmured, his gray-blue eyes tracking the movement of Lucien's throat as he swallowed. "But what about me? When do I get my points back?".

Lucien's breath hitched. The "no kissing" rule was currently hanging by a very thin, very frayed thread.

"I thought you wanted to show me those shirts you bought," Lucien squeaked, trying to find an exit strategy.

"Right. The shirts." Leon's smirk was slow and dangerous. He didn't let go of Lucien's chin. "Why don't we go upstairs to the dressing room? You can give me an 'expert evaluation' on how they fit".

Lucien realized too late that he had walked straight into a trap. "I... I can just look from here".

"No," Leon whispered, leaning in until their noses brushed. "I need you to check the fabric. Very closely. It's a matter of quality control".

The wolf was no longer just pursuing. He was inviting the lamb directly into his den.