Halfway through the maze, Leon had to put him down to reach a task card on a high shelf.

When Leon turned back, the space was empty. Lucien was gone.

A glowing key sat on the table where Lucien had stood. Leon's jaw tightened, his eyes scanning the shadows for his "captured" lamb.

In a barred cell at the end of the hall, Lucien sat in the corner. The actor playing the ghost was currently whispering to him.

"Just wait for your boyfriend to find the key," the ghost said, sounding bored.

Lucien nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Be quiet. When he's close, I'm going to scare the hell out of him."

The ghost shook his head and wandered off.

Leon's heavy footsteps echoed against the stone floor. Lucien crept toward the bars, waiting until the massive shadow loomed over the cell.

"RAAAH!" Lucien jumped toward the bars, waving his arms.

Leon stood perfectly still, his face an unreadable mask.

Lucien's shoulders slumped. "Not even a flinch?"

Leon dangled a ring of keys in front of the bars. "You're very brave. Maybe you don't need a rescue."

Lucien gripped the iron bars, pressing his face against the cold metal. "I do. I really do. Leon, open the door."

Leon didn't move.

Lucien bit his lip, his gaze darting to Leon's smirking mouth. He pressed his palms together in a mock prayer. "Husband. Please."

Leon went rigid. His Adam's apple bobbed. He jammed the key into the lock, ripped the door open, and hauled Lucien into his chest.

"Leon— stop, there are cameras!" Lucien gasped, his feet dangling off the ground.

"Just holding you," he muttered hoarsely against Lucien's hair. "That's all. Just— stay still for a second."

Lucien stopped struggling, letting his forehead rest against Leon's solid chest. "Don't... don't poke me with anything."

Leon's eyes darkened as he pulled back. Lucien immediately shut his mouth.

At the exit, a staff member handed them a pair of red devil-horn headbands. Lucien snapped his on instantly.

"Put yours on," Lucien demanded, holding up the second pair.

"No," Leon said flatly.

"Leon. Husband. Do it for the photo."

Leon snapped the headband on in less than a second. "Is this okay, baby?"

Lucien held up his phone, snapping a selfie of them framed by the sunset. He studied the screen, nodding with approval.

"This angle is much better. Send me your phone; I'm changing your wallpaper. That other one was a crime against my face."

Leon checked his screen. "I liked the other one. You looked cute."

"Change it," Lucien insisted. "Husband's orders."

Leon sighed, a faint smile ghosting his lips. "Whatever you want."

The park lights hummed to life as they walked toward the gates. Lucien's black hair was a messy nest from the wind.

He spotted Lin Yan in the distance, but the man didn't approach. He simply watched them for a moment before turning away.

Lucien didn't care. He was living a new life now.

He took a sip of a pearl milk tea, his cheeks bulging as he chewed the tapioca. After three steps, he stopped. "I'm tired."

Leon didn't wait for the word. He scooped Lucien up into a bridal carry.

Lucien handed him the tea. "Here. Have a sip."

Leon took a drag of the straw. "Too sweet. What do you want for dinner? You haven't eaten all day."

Lucien rested his chin on Leon's shoulder. "Hotpot. Really, really spicy."

Leon's hand drifted to Lucien's hip, giving it a firm squeeze. "Light soup only. You were swollen yesterday."

Lucien grit his teeth, thinking of the "work" Leon had put in. "Whose fault is that?"

"Yours for being so tight," Leon countered.

Back at the apartment, the spicy hotpot was replaced by a clear, medicinal broth. Lucien picked at his food, looking miserable.

After a shower, he flopped onto the bed, looking like a piece of dried lamb jerky.

"We need a schedule," Lucien announced, sitting up suddenly.

Leon arched a brow. "A schedule for what?"

"The... frequency," Lucien said, his face heating up. "We need a scientific, reasonable plan. A fixed rate."

Leon remained silent, his gray-blue eyes tracking Lucien's every movement.

"Once a week," Lucien proposed boldly.

Leon laughed, the sound low and dangerous. "Once a week? Are you joking?"

Lucien reconsidered. Leon's "energy" was a force of nature. He held up three fingers. "Once every three days?"

Leon caught Lucien's hand, folding his fingers down. "Fine. I agree. Three times a day."

Lucien's eyes went wide. "That's not what I meant! You're going to turn me into a meatball!"

"A lamb meatball," Leon corrected, his voice dropping into that deep, manipulative register.

Lucien blinked, trying to look soft and pathetic. "Husband... you said you'd listen to me."

Leon smiled, his hand sliding from Lucien's thigh down to his ankle, his grip tightening.

"Baby," Leon whispered. "Calling me that in bed... I'm going to take that as an invitation."