"Certainly, I was merely enjoying the solitude of my abode when you trespassed onto my property with such an intrusive question," I began, my tone laced with offense. "Who might you be?"…He seemed taken aback, hastily apologizing, "I beg your pardon; I was not aware that this place belonged to someone." A stern look on my face, I instructed him with an imperious air, "Well, now you are informed. Please leave and do not return." My arms were folded decisively across my chest as I spoke. My paintings seemed to draw his attention, and he inquired, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice, "Did you create these?"…"Cease your inspection immediately," I snapped, moving to shield my most recent work from view. He stuttered an apology, which I met with a fierce glare, "As you should be sorry." His vulnerability surfaced as he confessed, "I'm in a bit of a haze right now... my mind isn't clear". A twinge of sympathy nudged at me, but it was quickly overshadowed by my notice of his poised figure under the moonlight's candid glow. His features were momentarily mesmerizing—the silver sheen of his hair, the stark redness of his lips as if stained by wine, highlighted beneath the celestial light. Caught off guard by his perfection, I blinked away when his chuckle broke through the tension as he witnessed my inadvertent admiration. His feigned fall from the edge was an intentional act to unsettle me, one he succeeded in with his effortless recovery. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" I queried when he teasingly suggested that he might be the subject of my next piece. His answer was tinged with sorrow, sharing a fragment of personal tragedy. "My sister... she sought solace in the permanence of the unknown, chasing the illusion of a sanctuary beyond this reality". His words hung heavily between us, but our exchange was cut short by Anne's call from below. I descended the stairs to a scene of revelry, her outcry a stark contrast to the conversation I had just left. Detstvo—meaning 'Childhood,' his name carried a certain irony, given the circumstances—accompanied me, his presence a curious constant. As the evening's frivolity peaked with Anne's uninhibited jubilation, I found myself retreating from the chaos, seeking the quietude of my previous retreat. Detstvo persisted, following me upstairs. "My apologies, but could I have a moment?" he asked, cleaving through my attempt at solitude once more. I could do nothing but express my exasperation openly, the encounters of the night wearisome beyond my expectation. "May I inquire your name?" he posed the question with a note of curiosity. With a defiance in my tone, I replied, "My name is of no concern to you," as I rose to my feet. Perching myself at the cliff's edge, I felt a surge of adrenaline. He sidled up to me, resting his hand near mine on the rocky outcrop. "So you fancy a bit of mystery?" His voice carried a mixture of jest and challenge. I secured my hold on the rocks, ensuring my safety. "Yes, I do, and it's none of your business," I retorted, sticking my tongue out in a playful gesture while turning my gaze away. "Implore you, look at me once more," he pressed. Obliging, I faced him only to find him startlingly close, his presence unexpected. In a reactive push, I hoped to reclaim my space, but he was swift to catch my arms, steadying me from a misstep that could've led to a fall. Stepping down from the edge, I put distance between us. "Amore mio, at least grant me your name," he began in Italian, the language of classic romance, sending a thrill through me. "Should any maiden implore me to be hers, I wish to invoke your name as that of my heart's chosen." Never had words in any tongue struck me so intimately. How could they, from him, directed at me? And why?... With reluctance, I conceded, "My name is Kalda... Deidre Kalda," directing my gaze away from his unsettling eyes. "Kalda," he repeated, a slight smile grazing his lips. "Are you free this evening?"…. I scrutinized him. "To what end?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Simply seeking a friend to roam the streets with."… Considering his proposal, I turned to cover my latest painting with a cloth to protect it from dust, and then faced him squarely. "Very well, let's set forth." "After you," he insisted with a smile I couldn't help but despise. I began to descend the stairs with measured steps, and he trailed behind. At the stairwell, I confronted Jackson. "Ensure everyone departs by 3 AM. I expect this place spotless by 6 AM. A single speck of dirt, and there will be consequences," I issued the warning with a growl. "Understood, ma'am," he replied. Quickening my pace, I sensed him follow suit, his jacket in hand. As we walked alongside one another, the evening chill prompted an involuntary sneeze from me. "Are you cold?" His concern was evident as he offered his jacket. "No, I'm quite alright," I assured him, but he draped it over my shoulders anyway. His hands betrayed a shiver he endeavoured to hide, prompting a surge of guilt within me. Moving closer, I clasped his hand between mine and tucked it into my pocket, sharing my warmth. His shocked expression amused me in spite of myself. "You have a knack for humour," he remarked. "I'm nothing of the sort," I retorted, my demeanour remaining icy as droplets of rain began to fall, ushering us to seek shelter. "The rain will abate shortly," he conjectured, but the heavens thought otherwise, pelting us with a downpour. His laugh, in contrast to the weather's severity, exuded warmth. Defeated, I seated myself. "My abode is merely a few blocks from here. Would you care to join me?" he offered. I knew I shouldn't, but the allure was there. "No, I insist on departing," I held firm even though my destination lay uncertain. He persisted, however, claiming he would feel 'pleasured' to ensure my safe arrival home. Left with little choice, we walked back to the club where the night's escapades began. Once alone, I ascended the stairs to my personal space above the revelry. Changing into dry clothes, I secured the door, ensuring solitude, and collapsed onto the couch. The comfort was instantaneous, and though I lay enveloped by the faintest of breezes, questions darted through my mind. Despite the sense of being observed, I surrendered to the exhaustion, allowing the pseudo-slumber to engulf me, delivering me a fleeting peace.