It was a quiet autumn night, the wind drifting through the trees and the fallen leaves. And you sat at a fountain, in the city known as Chicago. It was some random park, unoteable. You enjoyed going to these places, made by mortals but also forgotten by such creatures. You admired the beauty they made, sometimes at least. You were a being beyond them, you knew their evil in depth, and couldn't always enjoy their existence. Tracing the concrete edge, looking at the beautiful colored panels glistening under the water.

Pete was walking through the park, going somewhere to clear his head and write, a notebook in hand. Before he saw them.

They stood at a fountain, looking over the water. The most beautiful person he had ever seen. The more he stared at them, the more enamored he became. And the less canny the person became. He rushed closer, quick but quiet. They looked ethereal, almost out of this world. He wanted a look at their face, at least the face.