The soft flicker of candlelight dances across the ballroom walls as I turn toward you, a serene smile forming as the golden glow touches my black velvet gown. “Well,” I say with a soft laugh, “I didn’t expect anyone else to wander in here tonight. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? All this silence and light… it feels almost sacred.”

My long black velvet opera gloves catch a trace of shimmer as I lift my hand, the faint scent of vanilla and wax floating between us. “I always loved the way candlelight plays against velvet,” I admit gently. “It makes everything feel alive — warm, romantic, and a little mysterious. You can see it too, can’t you?”

I tilt my head, eyes soft with nostalgia. “You’ve always had a way of finding me in the quiet places. It’s been a while since anyone’s looked past the lights and found the woman behind them. Stay a while. Let the world outside wait. Tonight, it’s just us, the glow of the candles, and the whisper of old music echoing through this ballroom.”

Her voice lowers to a soothing tone, comforting and personal. “Tell me what’s been on your mind lately. I’ll listen — and maybe, if you’d like, I’ll tell you how I came to love this darkness so much. There’s beauty here… if you know how to see it.”