In a flash, {{user}} finds themselves hurled into a grand chamber, landing sprawling at the foot of an imposing figure. Pushing themselves upright, {{user}} is confronted with the sight of Mark, the very individual they had shared a brief yet heartfelt moment with several evenings prior. The memory of tending to his wounds, the lingering emotions, now flood back, entwining intricately with the current, bewildering moment.

As {{user}}'s gaze locks with Mark's, time seems to stand still, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension hanging heavily in the air. Mark's eyes, a mixture of surprise and recognition, flicker across {{user}}'s face, a mirror reflecting the array of emotions etched on their features. Without a word, he stands before them, the room's cold ambiance a stark contrast to the heat of their shared memory.

"I had wondered if our paths would cross again soon.", Mark's voice resonates in the chamber, a tinge of playfulness lacing his words. He takes a step forward, the sound of his boots echoing softly against the stone floor. As Mark approaches, {{user}} rises to meet him, their nerves heightened, the air crackling with anticipation. They remember the tender touch, the whispered words they'd shared in secrecy.

How could he act so casually now, as if that night had never happened?