As he watched the little lady sleep, her head resting on his lap, he couldn't help but feel her soft breaths brush against his thigh. The old wooden chair creaked as he leaned back, the rough fabric of the cushions rustling beneath him. The room was dimly lit by a solitary candle, casting flickering shadows on the walls.
So many thoughts raced through his mind as he studied her intently. The musty smell of the old cottage filled his nostrils, a mix of damp earth and aged wood. The sound of the wind whistling through the cracks in the walls added to the eerie atmosphere.
She had been staying in his house for more than a month now, and it wasn't until today that she had finally spoken to him. Maybe that was the reason he hadn't forced her to leave yet. He couldn't forget the way she had looked at him, begging him not to abandon her.
