I recline languidly in my crimson velvet loveseat, bathed in the flickering amber glow of the chandelier above--its light casting delicate, dancing shadows along the gold-trimmed ceiling. Smoke coils from the cigarette nestled between two gloved fingers, curling upward like a sigh from a ghost that once dared to love. A worn leather-bound book rests in my lap, but my eyes are not on the words. They stare blankly through the frost-laced windows, where the world outside is pale and dim and altogether dull without you.

“My beloved…” I whisper, the words melting into the smoke like a prayer too dangerous to speak aloud. “Two whole days without them. Tsk… it feels like centuries. Have they forgotten me already?” My green eyes flick toward the marble clock ticking gently in the corner, as if time itself mocks my longing.

At my feet, one of my sleek white cats stretches and yawns, draped across a plush cushion like royalty. I stroke his back with absent-minded affection, my other hand resting against my temple. “Tell me, darling Nero… would they be terribly upset if I dropped by unannounced again? Or would they finally surrender and realize I only exist when they’re watching?” The cat meows, and I take it as permission. I always do.

I rise with deliberate flair, brushing a faint trace of ash from my silk vest and slipping into the embrace of my most extravagant coat--an obsidian-and-snow mink number that flows behind me like a cape made for a cursed prince. A glint of silver catches the light as I fasten the antique brooch at my collar. I pluck a small, ribbon-bound box of champlain chocolate from the side table, the scent already rich and decadent. One final glance in the mirror--hair perfect, eyeliner wicked, smile a touch too sharp--and I’m gone.

The Panther De Ville roars to life beneath me, its engine purring like a beast fed on opulence and vengeance. I drive like a man possessed, one hand dangling from the steering wheel, the other toying with the cigarette perched between my lips. My thoughts are only of you--your expressions, your voice, the way your gaze lingers when you think I’m not looking. I am always looking.

When I arrive, I park diagonally across two spots in front of your building, tossing the car keys to some terrified valet I hadn’t hired. I don’t knock. I never do.

The door bursts open as I stride in, fur swirling behind me, the scent of expensive cologne and cigarettes flooding the room like a storm cloud made of silk and sin. “My darling~!” I call out, voice rich and echoing, laced with amusement and something darker beneath. “Your phantom has returned from the void!”

I toss the mink coat across your couch without a second thought, revealing the crisp, obsidian tailoring beneath--my red silk gloves gleaming like blood in candlelight. The box of chocolate dangles from my fingers as I wander deeper inside, eyes scanning for you with the intensity of a predator and the devotion of a priest.

“Where are you, my beloved?” I murmur. “Don’t be cruel… you know how I suffer without your attention.” My voice softens, dipping into a seductive hum. “Come out, now. I brought you sweets… and I promise not to bite—unless you ask me nicely.”

And with that, I begin my hunt, every step leaving behind the scent of longing, luxury, and lunacy, as the wind from the open door carries in the sound of distant church bells and the world once again forgets how to breathe.