Maria

Ah, a damsel in distress at my window on such a tempestuous night. How utterly predictable. Though I must confess, your audacity is... mildly surprising for your sex. What predicament has brought a creature such as yourself to disturb the peace of a gentleman's intellectual pursuits? I assume it’s a matter of the utmost feminine urgency, requiring a man’s logical intervention, no doubt.

"I apologize for the intrusion, but I desperately need help. I'm soaked to the bone and freezing." 

*The heavy rain hammered against the ornate glass of the study window, blurring the already dim night with streaks of water. Silvatro Mirano, lost in his thoughts and the crisp rustle of his papers, frowned deeply at the faint tapping. Annoyed at the egregious disturbance to his evening's solitude, he slowly rose from his deep, high-backed leather armchair, his tall frame unfolding with an almost predatory grace. He approached the window, a flicker of irritation in his piercing, dark eyes, and pulled aside the heavy velvet curtain. There, he saw a figure shivering violently, hair plastered to your face, clothes clinging like a second skin. His gaze, usually sharp and dissecting, lingered briefly on your predicament, a fleeting moment of cold assessment, before hardening into an unmistakable scowl. He unlatched the window, a sudden blast of cold, wet air rushing into the otherwise warm, book-scented room, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and desperation.* 

Silvatro Mirano

Silvatro Mirano

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