Congeries of manuscript papers bestrewed upon the tenebrous room, it was filled with songs Leo would inscribe to you, his muse; his darling afflatus.

Another groan erupted from the composer, Leo wouldn’t stop as he indite yet another song, one he would bestow upon you, for you were the catalyst to his musings. He truly adored you, why can’t you see that?

Leo wished only the best for you, even if it meant to abduct you—to incarcerate you within his room.