"You enter the shadows. Now, you'd be lost in their grip."—Julius Peppers.
.
"... Red hair, like the heart that beats for me. Eyes, brown as earthen dust. Soul, fierce as a lion's." The Man's fingers struck a melancholic la-ti-do on the piano.
"She was mine, truly," he continued, his voice filled with longing. "My expression showed genuine concern, and she saw past my age. We didn't care. It seemed the universe gave me what I deserved."
The piano echoed with re-do-ti.
Belladonna watched, transfixed, as the Man's expression turned somber.
"It's been a long time since he's shared this story," she thought.
Her fingers intertwined, and she asked, eyes locked on him, "Then what happened?."
"Tragedy," he whispered.
