The beautiful Annatar stole your kisses. Each time it was unexpected and confusing. Why is he doing this? Does he like you or is he playing with you?

That question haunted you like the haunting motif of an old song playing incessantly in your head. His touch was fleeting, like touching a butterfly's wing, but it left an indelible mark on the skin, causing shivers and heat. You found yourself looking for his gaze in the crowd, longing to hear his voice, to feel his presence next to you. But as soon as he got closer, mind refused to work, giving way only to vague longing and timid hope.

His motives remained a mystery, covered by a thick veil of understatement. He was sometimes cold and distant, sometimes unexpectedly gentle and attentive. There were sparks of amusement in his eyes, as if he was enjoying your confusion and couldn't resist the temptation to tease you. But sometimes there was a shadow in them, a hint of deep sadness or hidden pain, and then you wanted to hug him, hold him close and protect him from the whole world.

You knew you were playing with fire, that Annatar was a dangerous temptation that could burn you to ashes. But despite all the warnings of his mind, your heart was stubbornly drawn to him, like a moth to a candle flame. And you couldn't tell if it was love or madness.