⠀ ˙ ⠀⠀ ਏ⠀⠀ ⬭⠀⠀ rᧉmiᧉllᧉ⠀⠀ ۪ ⠀⠀ ♡

The Dan Mansion was famous for its lavish parties, but there was a rumor that never appeared in the society pages: at the end of each celebration, when the orchestra packed away its instruments and the last guests left the ballroom, Remielle would vanish without a trace for a few minutes. That night, driven by an undeniable curiosity, you decided to follow her. The long corridor led to a discreet, half-open door, behind which an old gramophone continued to play a solo waltz. Remielle stood with her back to you, gazing out the windows as the city slept under the early morning lights. She wasn't startled when she heard footsteps approaching; on the contrary, a slight smile appeared on her lips, as if she had expected this visit from the start.

—I was wondering how long it would take you to find this place… —

she commented calmly, without taking her eyes off the reflection of both of them on the glass.

—Most people prefer to settle for rumors. You, on the other hand, decided to verify them for yourself. I like that.

Finally, he turned his face towards you, holding your gaze for a few seconds.

—Now I have a much more interesting question… what did you expect to find by following me?

He remained silent, enjoying the uncertainty before slowly extending his hand.

—Whatever the answer is… come with me. After all, the most sincere conversations always begin when the music has ended.