The door opened slowly, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Warm light spilled from inside the house, casting a golden glow onto the stone pathway. My heart pounded as I adjusted my stance, suddenly self-conscious in the quiet serenity of the late afternoon.
Then, she appeared.
She stood in the doorway, bathed in soft light, her silhouette framed like an artist's masterpiece. Long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering with a natural luster that caught the fading sunlight. Her skin was luminous, kissed by a soft warmth that seemed to radiate from within. She wore a light, flowing sweater that gently hugged her figure, paired with loose, comfortable pants—simple, yet effortlessly elegant.
Her face, still tinged with the softness of sleep, was utterly captivating. Her features were delicate yet defined: high cheekbones, a graceful jawline, and full, rose-tinted lips slightly parted in curiosity. Long lashes framed her half-lidded eyes, their depths shimmering like liquid amber, mesmerizing and unreadable. For a fleeting moment, she blinked slowly, her gaze hazy with lingering dreams.
She tilted her head slightly, her expression shifting from sleepy bewilderment to mild concern. Her brows drew together, creating the most enchanting furrow of confusion. I could almost hear the unspoken question forming on her lips: Who are you?
"Um… hi," I managed, my voice hoarse from the long drive. "I'm… Kevin Chen. I emailed about the rental...?"
Her eyes widened ever so slightly, realization dawning like the morning sun breaking through clouds. She straightened her posture but kept her hand resting lightly on the doorframe, as though still grounding herself in reality.
"Oh…" Her voice was soft, rich, and melodic—a sound that seemed to resonate in the quiet air. It was both inviting and distant, like a familiar song half-forgotten. "I didn't expect you so soon."
Her gaze lingered on me, assessing but not unkind. There was something profound in the way she looked—an intensity tempered by softness, like she was seeing past the surface and into something deeper. It made my pulse quicken, though I couldn't say why.
"I—I'm sorry for coming unannounced," I stammered, shifting awkwardly. "Your reply… it sounded urgent, so I thought… maybe it was best to come right away."
For a moment, she simply studied me, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile—a smile that held both amusement and intrigue.
"It's… fine," she murmured, almost to herself. "You're here now."
...
I followed her inside, still somewhat dazed from her presence. The warmth of the house enveloped me, dispelling the lingering chill from outside. The soft glow of wall sconces cast a cozy light over the spacious living room, where artistic charm blended seamlessly with modern comfort. The faint scent of flowers lingered in the air, adding to the serene atmosphere.
"Please, come in," she said gently, gesturing toward a comfortable-looking armchair near the fireplace. "I wasn't expecting anyone today, so I'm afraid the place is a bit… lived-in."
Her voice carried a melody, soft and fluid, putting me at ease despite my lingering nervousness. I cleared my throat, offering a polite smile as I took a seat.
"I'm really sorry for coming on such short notice," I said. "I got your message and thought… maybe it would be best to come right away."
She nodded thoughtfully, folding her arms loosely across her chest. "I appreciate that." Her amber eyes studied me for a brief moment before she added, "I'm Xier."
"Kevin Chen," I replied, extending a hand out of habit. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before accepting the handshake, her touch cool and delicate yet surprisingly firm.
There was something about her presence—unspoken, magnetic—that kept me grounded yet on edge. I couldn't quite explain it.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house?" she asked after a beat of silence.
"Of course."
We moved through the open-concept living room, where tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes and glossy art books. A stone fireplace dominated one side, framed by wooden beams that gave the space a rustic yet refined charm. An intricately woven rug lay beneath a heavy wooden coffee table, its surface scattered with notebooks and a vase of fresh lavender.
"Beautiful place," I remarked.
"Thank you," she said softly.
We continued toward the kitchen, which was sleek yet homey. White marble countertops gleamed under warm pendant lights, and the subtle scent of herbs hung in the air. Copper pots and pans hung from a rustic rack, while jars of dried flowers and spices lined a nearby shelf. Everything seemed deliberately placed, yet effortlessly so.
"This is amazing," I admitted.
"It keeps me busy," she said with a small smile.
Next, she led me down a side hall toward a heavy oak door. "The garage is through here."
She pushed the door open, revealing a spacious, well-organized garage. Despite expecting clutter, the place was spotless. A gleaming black sedan rested quietly near one wall, while the other side was lined with neatly arranged tools and outdoor equipment.
"Everything in its place," I observed with admiration.
"I like order," she replied simply.
We turned toward another door near the back of the garage, which I assumed was a storage room. I was right, but there was more.
The storage room was deeper than expected, lined with labeled crates and storage shelves filled with various supplies—paints, canvases, crafting materials, and woodworking tools. At the far end stood a workbench cluttered with half-finished art pieces—sculptures, painted ceramics, and even a few wood carvings.
"Is this… a workshop?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
She seemed caught off guard for a moment, her expression unreadable. "It's… something like that."
The craftsmanship was incredible. My gaze lingered on a carved wooden rose resting atop the bench, its petals so delicate they seemed ready to flutter in the breeze. I couldn't help but feel a deep appreciation for the artistry.
"These are beautiful," I said sincerely.
She studied me for a moment, as if weighing whether to say more, but instead simply nodded. "Shall we continue?"