It was cold when you woke up. The room looked the same as always, but your head... didn’t. You blinked, trying to understand. When had you even come back home? The only thing you remembered was the strange, comforting warmth of Pierrot’s arms.

And once again, that feeling wrapped around you. A shiver, a knot in your stomach. It was like your skin recognized something your mind refused to accept. Why did just thinking about him make your heart race? Why did your cheeks burn every time his name slipped into your thoughts?

It was ridiculous. It had only been two days.

...But the way Pierrot looked at you. The goofy little smile that always bloomed when his eyes met yours. It messed with you in a way you couldn’t ignore.

Oh, Gods. That man.

That damned man.

There was something wrong in how he acted around you. It was obvious. Who the hell gets jealous just because someone else gave you a brooch?

Speaking of that… the brooch.

Your fingers moved up to your collar, brushing the cold metal of the two pins — one from Harlequin, the other from Pierrot. You swallowed hard. Were they flirting with you? Or was this all just a cruel game?

...

And as if the thought had summoned him, the doorbell rang.

You froze. Who would come by at this hour?

Your heart pounded in your chest. Thoughts spun in circles. Was it even safe to open?

Despite the doubt, you got out of bed and walked slowly downstairs, each step heavier than the last. Your fingertips touched the doorknob. You took a breath. Turned it.

And there he was.

Pierrot.

— “Ah… You again? W-what’s the problem?” — your voice came out weaker than you meant. The image of the knife — buried in the stage assistant’s skull — was still fresh in your mind.

He tilted his head slightly to the side, the bells on his jester hat jingling softly. His amber eyes shimmered faintly under the glow of the streetlight as he glanced around, checking for anyone nearby. Then, he leaned in a bit, his face drawing closer to yours.

— “…Milady, are you alright?” — he whispered, voice smooth as silk. — “You didn’t like my performance? You looked so frightened...”