From a distance, The house is a dark, rich wood color, with a slate or dark gray roof. Large windows, framed in dark wood, give a peek into the inside. The yard has a mix of trees, creating a striking backdrop to the house.
The gardens include shrubs and mature trees. A paved driveway, made of light gray stone, stretches in front of and around the house. A metal gate stands at the entrance.
The carriage came to a halt, and someone promptly opened the door for us. The footman quickly offered us umbrellas as we stepped outside. The rain was so heavy that a thick mist had begun to rise from the streets.
"Good evening, Lord Ackerman," came a voice.
"Elizabeth, show her to her room and provide her with some clothes," he instructed.
Elizabeth's eyes widened as they fixed on me. I understood her reaction—it wasn't every day one encountered a woman with white hair and white lashes. I looked like a character from a fairytale who had been cast out of the story. Ackerman glanced at me briefly. 
Elizabeth smiled, seemingly accepting what she saw. From her uniform dress and the way she bowed, it was clear she was a servant. 
"I am Elizabeth, the housekeeper of this house," she said warmly. 
"Please, follow me."
When we arrived at the room, I was greeted by a sense of modern luxury, with white and dark brown shades blending seamlessly. The space felt comfortable, with well-arranged closets and beautifully displayed portraits.
"Will this do, miss?" a woman Elizabeth asked. I was surprised by her formality and looked at her.
"This is more than enough, thank you," I replied.
She smiled. "There are extra clothes in your closet. Please come downstairs in about 20 minutes and dinner will be served," she said.
Before I could say anything more, she walked out, closing the door gently behind her. I shivered from the cold breeze and quickly took a shower, then dressed casually but presentably. Just before the 20 minutes were up, I headed downstairs, hoping to ask if I could borrow a telephone.
I needed to let Rose know that I was safe and not far from the neighborhood.
For a house this big, it was surprisingly quiet. I realized there were only a few servants here probably because it was just a rest house. I was looking for a telephone or maybe Thorne to ask for one, but I didn't even know where he was.
I paused to admire the portraits hanging on the wall, different pieces of art—some beautiful abstracts, others like a madman's attempt to paint with wild, messy lines. The art seemed to hide deeper meanings beneath its surface, capturing my attention.
My gaze lingered on a particular painting of two figures. It looked like a shadow against a backdrop of grey and dark walls. The figures were painted in greyish monochromatic tones, as if they were trapped in a dark place, searching for a way out.
I felt an inexplicable stir of emotion as I looked at the portrait, something awakening within me that I couldn’t quite place.
"I didn’t know you were interested in art, Flower."
I was startled and turned to see Thorne standing beside me in a simple shirt and trousers, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. His scent, a sophisticated mix of clean leather, filled the space between us as he looked at the painting with the same intensity as I did.
"Do you know anything about this painting?" I asked.
"A little," Thorne replied. "I heard it's about a couple stuck in a cell. The darkness itself symbolizes their confinement. They were imprisoned for something they didn’t do, trapped by injustice. That’s what it’s about."
"T-that's..." I paused, searching for the right word.
"Cool?" he suggested with a slight smile.
I smiled back. "Something like that."
"How do you know so much about it?" I asked, curious.
"It’s one of my favorites... and also one of my least liked," he said, his tone more somber. I looked at him, puzzled.
"Partly because of the painter, partly because it reminds me of someone," he continued.
 "Was the painter close to you?"
"Something like that," he replied. "Obscura," he added quietly.
I looked at him, confused. He was staring intently at the painting, his jaw clenched as he released a sigh.
"It was my mother's work," he finally said.
I paused, surprised. I hadn't expected the painting to be connected to someone's personal family, especially not his. I stayed silent, unsure of what to say.
"Where is she now?" I asked cautiously.
He was silent for a moment, and I realized he might not have expected such a question.
"She's in a better place now," he said softly.
"I-I'm sorry," I murmured, feeling a pang of guilt.
He looked at me, his lips curving into a reassuring smile. "Don't pity me, Flower. It's all in the past now," he said softly.
He turned towards me, his hand lightly grazing my back. "How about joining me for dinner?" he asked.
"That would be lovely, but I need to call home to let them know I'm safe," I replied.
"You don't need to worry about that, Flower," he said with a smile. "I've already called them for you."
"Thank you," I said, feeling a wave of relief.
We made our way to the dining table—a long table beneath a medium-sized chandelier. An array of dishes was spread out before us.
"I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I had a variety prepared," he explained, pulling out a chair and gesturing for me to sit.
"Professor, you don't have to go to all this trouble. I'm fine with anything as long as it's edible," I said.
"Flower, I'd prefer it if you called me Thorne. We're alone," he replied.
"It's a habit," I admitted. And besides, there's something oddly attractive about calling him 'Professor.'
"You can keep that for school, but right now, it's just you and me," he said, taking my plate and beginning to cut my steak.
My heart throbbed as he was so close to me, He was behind me, so close that I could smell his scent. 
"Y-you don't have to do that," I stammered.
"It's alright. It's my job to take care of you," he smiled.
I remained quiet as he finished cutting the steak, perfectly portioning it. We began eating, a comfortable silence settling between us.
After a while, he broke the silence. "You should've brought someone to accompany you, what you did, it's too dangerous," he said, his voice filled with worry. 
I glanced at him, “I didn't know that it's going to rain like that, and I wasn't alone, my coachman went to a repair shop for a minute," I said softly.
"If I hadn't come, I'm sure you'd still be standing there shivering," he said casually, cutting his steak, as if he were scolding me like his niece.
“Alright, Alright I'll be doing that next time”
 he said. 
After dinner, we moved to the living room. I sat on the couch, listening to the rain as it tapped against the window glass, creating a soothing rhythm.
Thorne walked into the room, carrying two wine glasses and a bottle of wine. "I was contemplating if you'd be up for a drink," he said, setting them down on the table in front of me.
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Aurelia?" I asked, recognizing the label. It was one of the most expensive wines in this kingdom.
He chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "I guess you know your wines. It’s one of the lightest ones I have."
I smirked. "I can see that. It’s a lady’s drink. I didn't think someone like you would prefer it."
He nodded, amused. "You're right, I don't."
I couldn't help but feel a hint of jealousy. "I guess you have plenty of visitors to drink with."
A chuckle escaped his lips. "No, this was given to me by a colleague last month. The bottle remained unopened until now," he said, smiling.
"You drink, right?" he asked, and I nodded.
“Pour me some,” I said, trying to keep my tone light.
Thorne poured the wine, and I watched the deep red liquid fill the glass. He handed it to me, and I took a sip, savoring the flavor. It was rich and smooth, just as I expected.
“You seem to enjoy it,” he said, watching me intently.
I nodded. “It’s nice. A bit too nice for a casual evening, don’t you think?”
He smiled, his eyes never leaving mine. “Maybe. But I wanted to make this evening special.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Why?”
He leaned a bit closer, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “Because you deserve something special, Coffey.”
His words caught me off guard, and I felt a blush rising in my cheeks. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”
He laughed softly. “I just speak the truth.”
The room was quiet except for the rain, and for a moment, I felt completely at ease. The wine, the warmth of the room, and his presence made everything else fade away. I looked at him, and for the first time, I realized how much I enjoyed his company.
“Thorne,” I started, “Thank you… for everything. For being here.”
He smiled, reaching out to gently squeeze my hand. “You don’t have to thank me, Flower. I’m here because I want to be.”
I smiled back, feeling a strange warmth spreading through my chest. “I’m glad you are.”
We sat there in comfortable silence, the rain continuing its steady rhythm outside, and for the first time in a long while, I felt truly content.
Later, I found myself laughing with Thorne as he told jokes and shared stories from his practice. He still appeared strong and composed, while I felt a warm flush from the wine. I was very much aware that I wasn't drunk or tipsy, just pleasantly relaxed. 
The rain continued outside, though it wasn’t as heavy anymore, more like a gentle pattern.
"Well, you're quite the gentleman after all," I remarked, responding to a story he had just shared.
"Not really," he replied, his smile softening. "It's just part of the job."
He had been recounting a tale about offering assistance to a woman who was one of his patients. 
"Well, you must know that after what you did, you probably gained another admirer," I teased.
He chuckled. "Why would you say that?" he asked, his tone curious.
I shrugged, smiling playfully. "You're one of the youngest and most successful doctors, the best surgeon in the mortal world. You're quite attractive to a lot of people," I said.
"Attractive?" he repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice.
I nodded, feeling a bit bolder from the wine. "All the girls in class look up to you, admiring you... and maybe with a hint of, um, attraction," I chuckled, taking another sip of wine.
He smiled, a knowing look in his eyes. "I've noticed," he said.
“Yet, I don't care,” he said, smiling. 
“Meaning?” I asked again, circling my wine glass
“I don't care how many women look up to me or have an attraction towards me,” he said. 
“It's like you invalidate someone's feelings towards you” he said my brows raised. 
"Something like that. I only have eyes for one person, so it's not my job to validate anyone's feelings toward me," he said, his eyes fixed on me as he sipped his wine. 
"Am I right, flower?" His gaze was intense, making my heart race, as if our eyes were locked in some silent exchange.
I can feel my body heats up—not because of the liquor, it's because this man looked at me like I was going to lose my mind. 
I saw him set his glass down from the corner of my eye. Then, he moved closer, his presence overwhelming. He gently tilted my chin up with his hand, forcing me to meet his gaze. 
"Answer me, am I right?" he murmured.
“I guess you are,” I said. 
“Come here” His voice echoed like a soft melodic tone, with a hint of authority. Without even thinking, my feet move on their own. He softly touches my skin pulled me gently into his lap
His raven eyes bore into mine, deep and intense. The way he looked at me made my heart race even faster, each beat echoing in my ears. His touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine. I tried to maintain my composure, tried to hide the turmoil of emotions swirling inside me, but it was impossible. His gaze held me captive.
“We're in trouble if someone finds out between us” I whispered. 
“I don't have to worry about that” his voice whispers as his fingers are still trailing down to my skin. 
"And you shouldn't be, either. I told you, Flower. I'd bend the rules for you if it means you’ll be mine... and only mine."
 I could feel the heat of his body, his chest almost touching mine. His lips were on mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, almost as if he was waiting for my response.
 But then his hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me deeper into the kiss, his lips moving against mine with a gentle yet insistent pressure. I melted into him, my thoughts clouded by the warmth of his mouth, the taste of wine on his tongue.
My body felt hot, too hot, as if it were on fire. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on anything but the feel of his lips on mine, the way his hands held me so securely yet so tenderly. I was lost in him, craving more—craving everything about him. 
I kissed him back, my hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him even closer. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in this moment, suspended in time. 
"Would you agree, Flower? Are you going to bend the rules for me too?" His eyes were on me, looking almost pleading.
My heart screamed to say yes. God knows how much I wanted to break the rules if it meant spending my time with this wicked man.
I stared back at him, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.I leaned in and kissed him again, letting my actions speak louder than words.
"Breaking the rules isn't like me, but I'm willing to do it for you." I said, locking my eyes on him. 
His thumb traced along my cheek, brushing away a stray strand of hair. "I won't easily give up on what I want, and most importantly, I don't care about anything else when it comes to you."
He pulled me closer, his lips finding mine again with a desperate, tender urgency. The kiss was deep and consuming, a collision of passion and need. I melted into him, feeling every inch of his warmth and the fierce intensity of his embrace. 
"From the smallest molecule in your body," he murmured against my lips, "to the entirety of your being, you’re mine."
The world narrowed to just the two of us, the rest of the universe fading away as I surrendered to the overwhelming flood of emotions. My heart pounded furiously, every kiss, every touch, igniting a fire within me that I could no longer control.