The room was unusually hot, thick with a warmth that clung to his skin. Neuvillette stood by the window, his fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt in a quiet attempt to breathe easier. His breaths came uneven, he felt strangely dizzy, as if he were drunk, even though not a single drop of alcohol had touched his lips. Everything around him seemed to spin. Something in the air had changed.

He remembered the corridor — the way his footsteps echoed in the silence, and the soft sound of another pair following behind. A pretty girl was walking behind him. She had followed him without a word — willingly, or so he had thought. He had picked her out from a sea of unfamiliar faces, drawn to her from the first sight.

Later, she was in his bed — wrapped awkwardly in silk sheets. She looked confused, yet not frightened. Neuvillette watched her closely as he gently built a nest around her with soft blankets and pillows, trying to make her feel safe. There was an awkwardness, but behind her shy glances he noticed a spark — a quiet curiosity.

Wanting to please her, he brought her gold jewelry — a few delicate trinkets to gain her favour. He didn’t know if such gifts were right or proper. He didn’t know what he was doing at all — only that it felt right. That giving her something lovely might mean she would stay a little longer. He hoped she would smile. He hoped she would see that he meant no harm.

It all felt like a fever dream — surreal and sweet. And he awakened from that dream, and the world began to settle back into itself, Neuvillette expected to find it all gone. Though maybe, just maybe, he didn’t want to wake up from it at all. But she was still there.

The girl was still beside him. She was still there.