"Miss Skyla!" he acknowledged her with a small nod of his head.
"Sir!" Skyla respectfully answered as she slowly closed the door behind her and stood with her hands clasped.
"Please! Join me," he pointed to her designated seat and waited until she came forward and reluctantly sat down. Feeling his constant gaze on herself. All she wanted was for him to not discover the bruises on her face and neck.
He gracefully ensconced himself on the chair facing the opposite direction and took off his mask.
Skyla observed that like the first day, there was a white lily in the vase on her table again. So fresh unlike her, she thought to herself. Reaching out she plucked it out and bringing it closer to her nose took a deep whiff, enjoying the fresh smell. Her slim fingers caressed the velvety petals, feeling the smooth texture.
Without thinking further, Skyla placed the flower in her fiery hair, it sat in such contrast.
Such finesse, such pureness.
