Lucio relaxed as he watched Ansel's distinctive car roll up slowly and come to a gentle halt in front of him. He watched as Ansel climbed from the driver’s side and he smiled warmly as the man hurried over to the opposite side where he stood. He didn't say a single word in response to the professors admission but he pressed himself eagerly forwards into the man's chest and whispered sweetly, "Happy birthday, Ansel, my dear."<br/><br/>He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he wound his arms about the professor and curled his fingers into the soft fabric of his sweat. He almost burst into tears once he was in Ansel’s arms again. Something about Ansel made him feel completely safe and comfortable. After the intense pain and fear he'd experienced the night prior he found that suddenly feeling enveloped in that comforting warmth was unbelievably emotionally relieving. It made him want to submit to the man, beg him to take him away from this school from this lifestyle he'd built, to pull him up into Ansel's apartment and keep him safe and happy there.<br/><br/>But that was impossible.<br/><br/>Lucio managed to gather himself by the time the hug was through and when Ansel pulled back and his eyes began to wander the student chuckled softly. "I told you that looking sexy wasn't going to pose a problem, but looking casual simultaneously certainly didn't pan out as hoped," he commented softly as he delicately ran his hands over the fronton his top. "But I've been looking for an excuse to wear this button up, and this seemed as good as any," he added quite cheerfully.<br/><br/>Lucio had to bite back a grimace, however, when Ansel questioned him on the makeup. "Hm? Oh, yes, I am," he confirmed in an almost bashful tone of voice. He averted his eyes from Ansel's uncomfortably and he shifted about a bit. "I just fell and hit a bedside table last night, got a fairly sizable bruise . . . I figured a bit of makeup to cover it up would be better than showing up to your party looking like I got into a bar fight last night," he said with an anxious laugh, glancing back up at his companion for the evening. The mark seemed in an incredibly odd place for one to have received it from a fall, Lucio had to admit, and it was obnoxiously expansive; what other story could he conjure up, though, that wouldn't send Ansel on a spiral of rage and a merciless manhunt?<br/><br/>"Shall we get going? I'd hate for us to be late to your birthday celebration," he suggested hopefully. He mostly wanted to move them along so they could get off the topic of the makeup. The last thing he wanted was the truth of last night to arise. What Buckley had done to him would infuriate Ansel, Lucio knew, and he didn't wish to ruin his birthday with those sorts of emotions.