Through marble hallways, over bleeding red carpets and into her sanctuary she walks, shoulders hunched and eyebrows drawn. A smile, a flutter, a touch; closer than she had ever been to her affections, her desire.

“Lulu? I’m sorry,” her sister calls out, gentle, comforting.

She snorts in reply, slamming the doors not long after.

A few more steps to the balcony where her charge provides a cold comfort. The land is silent as the grave, yet her heart does not stop. It promises wholesome things; though the pain provides a stark contrast in favor of the unpleasant aspects of love.