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And, I think about everything that happened after. The ragged noises she made against my mouth.

I have to look up at the ceiling to calm down as I reach down to readjust myself in my trousers. I am throbbing, straining against the fabric from the sheer memory of her touch. I can still taste her. I can still feel exactly how perfect she fitted against my mouth, how soft and responsive her skin was under my fingers.

Calm yourself, Julian.

The piano is barely visible in the dark, a silent shadow in the corner of the room. I cross the floor and sit down at the bench without bothering to turn the light on. I don’t play a single note. I just sit, in the way I have been sitting at pianos since I was old enough to climb onto a bench by myself.

My mum used to say that a piano holds everything you put into it. Every feeling, every memory, every version of yourself that sat at its keys. I’ve understood that concept more the last couple of months than I have in the last ten years, and I am beginning to realise she was right.

I pull my phone out of my pocket. Ellise is still saved in my phone as Bow-Peep, because some things are petty habits even when the entire foundation has shifted on its axis. I stare at her name for a moment and then I type, because this massive house is very quiet and this room is very cold, and I am apparently now a person who does desperate things.

I barely recognise this version of myself. I’m a lovesick idiot.

Lovesick? Fuck sake.

BOW-PEEP

This library is extremely lonely without you in it.

I hit send before I can think about it too much, tossing the phone onto the piano lid. I sit in the dark and wait—which I would never admit to anyone.

Three minutes pass until the phone flashes, lighting up the room.

Maybe you can show me around in the New Year? I’d love to meet Mystery this time.

A slow, genuine smirk spreads across my face.

This girl.

I type back almost immediately, completely ignoring the rule about playing it cool.

I’ll think about it ;-)

Let me know when you decide.

She’s playing with me. Of course she is.

I wish you were sitting on my lap right now.

I don’t type that. Fuck no. I’m intense, but I’m not completely unhinged… yet.

I double checked with Mystery, and she’s happy about another woman coming to stay. So I suppose we’re on.

Thanks, Mystery.

How’s the shop?

Chaos. Mum has reorganised everything in the store since I’ve been away. I can’t find anything, and a box fell on me today. A box full of ribbon. ;-)

I stare at the words, a low chuckle escaping me.

Ribbon. Naturally.

Of all sizes.

My fingers fly across the keyboard, the banter shifting into something darker.

Which do you prefer?