private melody

Claire crept quietly through the gloomy hallway, her black high heels barely making a sound on the creaky wooden floor.
She paused for a moment in front of the heavy, carved wooden door.
Her hand trembled slightly as she adjusted the silky fabric of her mask, the delicate lace framing her eyes, concealing her identity and giving her a mysterious feeling of freedom at the same time.
It was the game of seduction and anonymity that electrified her every time she entered this house.

Her neighbor always left the door unlocked for her.
He knew she would come.
Always at the same time, always with the same quiet elegance.
She opened the door and stepped into the drawing room, which was filled with warm candlelight and the faint scent of old wood and fine fabrics.
The man, whose name she didn’t know and whom she never got to see, had once again made himself invisible, leaving the stage to her alone.

She stopped in front of the antique Mannborg piano and let her fingers glide gently over the yellowed keys.
A smile played around her lips as she sat down on the stool, her bare skin tingling under the touch of the velvety fabric.
Her hands hovered over the keys, then she began to play – soft, tender melodies that broke the silence and filled the room with an intimate atmosphere.

Claire sensed that he was there.
Somewhere in the shadows, listening, devouring her every move with his eyes.
The thought of being watched without him really knowing her lit a fire inside her.
She was not only playing for him, but also for herself – a sensual ritual that bound them both in this silent, tantalizing symbiosis.

The music echoed softly as Claire put her lips to the keys and sent one last note into the darkness.