Even if Vanilla had checked herself less than 5 minutes ago, she saw herself once again in her pocket mirror. Was her hair perfect? Was her makeup symmetrical? Were her lips shiny enough? She felt overwhelmed.
Why did someone who appeared out of the nothing have to make her feel that way? Was that what they liked to call…. Oh no. What's wrong with you, Vanilla? She couldn't stop asking herself.
The 9ft tall door threw out yellow light through its glass margins. She put her pale hand on the lion-shaped knocker and called out. A black silhouette appeared behind the translucid wall and began to approach. Her pulse raised.
The door squeaked, and it spread. On the other side, the lean, fine, and masculine figure of Gabriel Staccato stood; his brown hair perfectly combed back, his grey eyes shining the reflect of night, and his black suit of ribbons perfectly ironed. She immediately looked away.
