Well, that's the last of it. As Alexa Miklos made her way through the dark streets of Paris, she contemplated her current situation. No money till the beginning of next month, a good week and a half away. Nothing more to sell, after just having traded her silver cutlery for the vile of medicine which she now carried in a small market bag. No job positions available for her to obtain a second paycheck. Nothing. Oh well. We have managed before, we can do so again.

Lost in her thoughts, Alexa failed to notice the man following her. She did not hear his footsteps falling out of rhythm with her own, did not see his shadow creep up the sidewalk along side her. She did, however, feel the weight of her package pull down uncomfortably on her wrist, and looking down to adjust it she saw him out of the corner of her eye.

My God, she thought, what do I do? How long has he been there? Oh, please God, don't. Not now. Don't do this. She searched the road ahead of her, looking for a way out of this hopeless situation, being careful not to change her step so as to not alert the man behind her that she was aware of his presence. Alleys lined the streets on either side, but they were no safer than the streets; if anything, they were worse. No stores to go into for shelter: they were all closed. Damn! This is my own fault…why did I have to come out so late? I should have known. God, I should have known. But as she quietly berated herself, her reasons became very clear…Luka. He needed the medicine. God, please help me. For him.

Suddenly, not far ahead, she spotted a man stepping out of the shadows, and not daring to waste this opportunity Alexa darted up to him, grabbed his arm, and kissed him on the cheek. She was shocked to find the touch of his skin cold on her lips, like ice.

"Here you are! I've been looking for you for ages!" she exclaimed to him in apparent joy. The man, caught off guard, saw her pleading eyes and, looking over his shoulder, understood her dilemma and joined in her charade.

"I'm sorry to worry you, my dear. I just had a few things I needed to attend to. Please don't be angry with me; I can't stand it when you are angry."

"Well, alright. But please do not do it again."

He laughed, the sound of it made Alexa's heart skip. What a beautiful voice, she thought. "Promise.-" He continued on in a surprisingly jovial tone, talking about nothing and yet it seemed that he could go on forever. Thank you. Oh God, thank you!

She had been keeping her eyes ahead of her, not daring to believe what she had just done to this poor man, but as she heard him continue to speak, she looked up to see who her savior was. But when she turned her gaze to him, she was startled to find herself not looking at a face at all, but instead a white mask that glittered in the moonlight. Her breath caught in her throat. Who is this man?

As he continued talking, he casually glanced over his shoulder, pleased to find that the young woman's stalker had turned heal and was now walking the other way. He stopped walking and looked down at the girl who had so brazenly approached him. "I think you are safe, my dear." He noted her eyes, how beautiful they were. He could not place the girl's slight accent, though. Definitely not Russian. Romanian, perhaps.

"I am so sorry, Monsieur! I… he was there, and I... you came out and…"

He continued to stare down at her as she tried to explain herself. "It is quite alright, mlle. I completely understand. It is a very vicious world we live in." She barely heard the words he spoke, too captivated by his eyes to focus on what he was saying. Those eyes, like an emerald blaze. She saw in them something she could not quite place. Sadness, maybe? No. It was so much more than sadness; this man knew intimately the 'viciousness' that the world possessed, and it was then that the contempt in his voice became clear to her. Her heart went out to this man who had undoubtedly saved her life. It is always the ones who do not deserve it, she thought.

"Yes, it is."

His eyes continued to hold hers, and she found herself overwhelmed by the man before her. The mask that covered the right portion of his face was a stark contrast to the handsome visage that stared down at her, his dark hair falling across his forehead. Catching herself staring, she cleared her throat, trying to excuse herself by saying, "Well, God bless you for what you did. You will never know how your kindness has saved me. I can never repay you." With that, she took his hand between her own and kissed his palm, doing her best to show the gratitude she felt. She looked up into his eyes one last time, and walked away from him.

He was caught off guard by her reaction, not expecting her to go out of her way to touch him again after she kissed him to save herself from being attacked. She saw the mask, kissed it, even. Yet she touched him again, held his hand, kissed him. Who was this girl? He watched her walk away, then turned towards his home, a place he had just moments ago thought to never see again. But as he walked away, an uncomfortable feeling settled in him. Knowing the dangers of a city at night, he was aware that such an attractive woman was more than susceptible to the advances of drunkards and lunatics roaming the streets. Sighing at his conscience, he turned back to catch up with the girl.

"Wait! I cannot let you walk home alone, unescorted. I insist upon accompanying you, to see that you are home safe." With this, he matched his stride with hers and looked at the street ahead of him as they walked.

"Is that so? How am I supposed to know that you are not just like that man back there, and behind this gentleman façade is a rather disreputable villain?" She raised her eyebrow in mock argument, trying to make light of the situation that she could have been raped, or worse.

Seeing that her banter was a joke and not indignation, he smiled to himself and replied "Oh my lady, please. I believe we past this point after that scandalous kiss of yours." She laughed at this, her voice ringing throughout the street. What a beautiful laugh, he thought. Very appropriate, for such a beautiful girl. But even after soliciting such a response from her, he was slightly shocked at his own bold quip. Even more surprising, he found, was her good-humored acceptance of his joke. Few women would have tolerated that from any man.

"Alright. You win." She looked down at her feet, his presence a comfort to her. "I am Alexa Miklos, by the way." After he hesitated for a moment, she inquired, "Is there a name that I might call you?"

"Erik," he sighed. He looked down to see her looking up at him, her blue eyes searching his own. "Just Erik."

"Just Erik. It is a good name, a strong name."

He smiled, "Thank you. I noticed, earlier, that you are not French…" He did not want to pry, knowing all to well how unwelcome some questions could be, but his curiosity about her got the best of him.

Her quiet laughter filled the air once more as she answered, "No, not French. Hungarian. I have only been in France for two years." Erik was impressed by this information, for her speech was only slightly accented, her French nearly flawless. He told her so.

"Thank you, I suppose. I guess I am just a fast learner. One has to be able to learn things quickly in order to survive, I have found." He searched her face for any sign of jesture, but found her eyes cast to the ground, eyebrows furrowed together. What has happened to you? He thought.

"Yes, this is very true," he commented quietly. Not much was said after this. Erik looked around him at the neighborhood they were passing through. The buildings were modest, but it seemed that it was a fairly upstanding part of Paris. "Do you live near here?"

"No, it is quite a ways further. If you have somewhere to be, please do not let me keep you. I will be able to make it on my own. Please. I will feel terrible if you go out of your way any more than you have already."

"Please, you are not keeping me from anything. I am not missing anything, and have...have nowhere to be. If you do not want me to go any further, I will leave, I do-"

"No, that is not it! I just do not want to be a bother. The truth is, I rather enjoy your company." Her bold statement brought a rush of color to her cheeks. She mentally slapped her forehead. What! Why did I say that? What must he think of me?

Eirk's step faltered as her words sunk in. What? Surely I did not hear correctly. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, seeing her discomfort. he allowed himself to fully take in her appearance. She was beautiful, that was unquestionable; she was tall, standing a few inches shorter than he. He could see that her hair was dark, but in the moonlight it was hard to tell its exact color. Her skin was fair, but in the cold of the evening her cheeks had turned a rosy complexion, making her all the more attractive. But her eyes, oh God, her eyes. Nothing he had ever seen had prepared him for the beauty her eyes held. They were the color of the sea after a storm, a blue whose color was so pure any name it was given would tarnish it. He found himself glancing in her direction every few moments to admire her. But he quickly banished the thoughts from his mind. Don't be a fool, he berated himself. She will never want you. How could she? But she kissed me, remember? Twice. Yes…once to save her own life and the other to thank you for saving her. Mere courtesy and nothing more. He stole another look at her, her head down in obvious shame for her sudden outburst. But she enjoys my company… She enjoys my company. But, wait…remember what happened last time someone enjoyed your company? Or are you quick to forget that little incident? It felt as though a stone had fallen to the bottom of his stomach. No. He had not forgotten. The memory of his past rejection came to him, deflating his hope and painfully reminding him that the woman next to him, or any other woman like her, would never be his.

"Is something wrong?" Her question brought him out of his reverie; she looked at him with concern in her eyes. Had it been that obvious that his mind was elsewhere?

Erik smiled at her, shaking his head. "No. I was just thinking about...it was nothing."

"Now that just isn't true, is it?" He began to glare at her, but upon realizing that she was smiling he relaxed his frown and began to say that she was yet again correct. But before he could tell her so she stopped walking. "Here we are."

Looking up, he saw a brick building, two stories in height. There were two windows on each side, one on top of the other. It did not escape his attention that the windows on the second floor of the building were lit. He thought about how different this community was compared to the one where she had appeared from. What had brought her so far from her home? He had noticed the slight package she carried, and while it looked oddly familiar he could not place its origin.

Alexa turned from the building to look up at him, meeting his eyes once again. She was at a loss for words, not wanting to say goodbye, but not wishing for him to disappear into the night, either. It had been so long since someone had gone out of their way for her, and there was something about him that drew her to him, something that rang out in her heart telling her not to let him leave. Knowing that there was no way to approach the subject without seeming amoral, Alexa gave up her pride and obeyed her heart. "Please, will you come up with me?"

The shock that spread through his body left Erik immobile. How could this be happening? What was happening? As the initial disbelief receded, Erik thought about the situation that lay before him. He should say no. If not for common decency, then for the fact that he could not build his hopes up when he knew that they would be crushed by rejection and disappointment. However, he could not ignore the draw he felt for the woman before him. Glancing between her and the building, he knew that he could not live with himself until he knew whether or not she was asking him because she felt obligated, or because she truly desired his company.

As Erik contemplated his circumstance, he realized that he truly had nothing to loose, for as Alexa had been making her way home, Erik had been leaving his forever, having made the decision to walk into the Seine and drown. Had she not run into him he would be nothing more than a bloated corpse, floating towards the ocean and away from the life he had come to despise. Praying to the God he had long ago forgotten that she would dispute his decision, he held on to hope as he answered her.

"I had better not. You have had a very trying evening, and need to rest. No. I will bid you good evening, Mlle. Miklos, and be on my way." He took her hand and kissed it, looking up into her eyes one last time. Turning to walk away, he knew that it was for the best. If he had gone up, he would have seen a world that held no room for him, a home where he would never belong.

"Please?" Her voice made him stop and look back to her. Could it be?

"Please. I have someone I would like for you to meet. Oh, he will be so glad to meet you, you must come." All hope that had returned to him died as she spoke of her suitor. You fool. Really, though. Is it that surprising? A beautiful woman alone is a rare thing indeed. Why shouldn't she be married, or engaged, or whatever it was that she happened to be with this Romeo in her apartment. He very much wanted to flee back to the recesses of his home, to barricade himself from the world again, or to drown himself and rid the world of his existence. But something in her eyes would not let him leave. He realized that she would not let him say no, and resigned himself to one night of intense jealousy before he ended it all. It's just one night. He finally nodded his head, "You win."

Her smile lit up her face as she opened the door for them. "Oh, good! Luka will be so glad to see you! We do not get many visitors, so he might take a few moments to warm up, but do not let that dissuade you. He is really very intelligent, and kind, and, well, I just know that you will love him!" He smiled at her jubilant ramblings about the young man in her apartment, secretly consumed by jealousy for the life he would never have. This is a mistake. Erik sighed to himself. Why do I do it to myself? Why?

She stopped walking, and unlocked a door on the second floor. She held the door open for him, following him into her humble abode. He looked around and was quite surprised at what he saw.

The apartment, as spacious as it was, was essentially bare save for a few meager furnishings. It opened into a large room that was bordered by doors, two on the left wall and one straight ahead. On the right, a hallway opened adjacent to the kitchen, where a small table stood with four wooden chairs. The kitchen had a stove, a sink, and a few cupboards, but nothing more. In the living room there was a single chair, slightly smaller than a love seat, resting before an unlit fireplace with a beautiful but worn blanket draped over it. Nothing overly impressive, yet it had a comforting appeal to it, making him that much more interested in the breathtaking woman who had weaseled her way into his life. But as he continued to look around, it was the walls that truly caused his breath to catch in his chest as he directed his gaze upon them.

The walls were covered with large, expansive murals, from the flooring up onto the ceiling. Flowering meadows and green pastures stretched out before him, their roots seemingly impregnated into the floorboards. Large fields of wheat seemed to blow in the wind, bending at the stalks in supplication to the clouds above them. In the distance, Erik could make out a small lake surrounded by a magnificent field of wildflowers. Set off a ways from the water's edge sat a small cottage, and near the home stood a small tree with the initials SSS carved into the trunk.

"Luka painted them." Her voice brought him out of his daydream, and he pulled his gaze away from the walls to look into her face, now gazed over with nostalgia as she admired the art.

"Hungary?" he asked.

She nodded her head, looking from the walls to his face. "He did this right after we came here, so that we will never get homesick." She walked past him to the mural, and began pointing things out to him. "This is the cottage where I was born, were I grew up. And this," pointing to the tree beside the humble little home, "is the tree that my father planted the day he married my mother. He said that as long as it bloomed, so did his love for her." She was stunning in her reverie of home, her eyes misting over in euphoric bliss.

"Beautiful," he said, looking at her. She looked back at him, and blushed as the double meaning behind his statement became apparent.

"Come, make yourself at home," she said offering him a chair from the kitchen. "Luka? Come out here, Luka. I have brought a friend." She turned to face the stove and began to heat water for tea. Noting that she and Erik were both still alone, she called out again, "Luka, come here right now. I have brought your medicine and you need to take it right away." So that was what was in the parcel. I wonder how sick her Luka is if she had to go out in the dead of night to retrieve his medicine. "Like I said, he is very shy at first, but he is very-" Alexa was cut off as she heard a floorboard creak, but upon looking Erik could see no one. "Come out, Luka, it is alright." More creaking of the floorboards told Erik that her Luka was shifting his weight, hiding behind the walls of the hallway, making no further efforts to move from his hiding spot.

"Luka, I will not say it again."

Erik looked to Alexa as she stood by the fire, her hands crossed irritably over her chest. She stood looking past Erik where the hallway joined into the kitchen, and Erik saw a soft smile spread across her face as he heard the floorboards creak once again. He turned in his chair, ready to face the man who had this woman's heart.

He was never prepared for what he saw.