The door to Rose's bedroom closed softly behind them, the quiet click seeming to echo in the sudden intimacy of the private space. The room reflected its owner's personality—elegant but comfortable, decorated in soft pastels with modern furnishings that managed to feel both sophisticated and welcoming. Moonlight streamed through the tall windows, casting everything in a gentle silver glow.
Arthur turned to face Rose, and in the quiet sanctuary of her room, away from the eyes of guests and the formalities of the celebration, something shifted between them. The careful restraint they had maintained throughout the evening, the public politeness that had marked their interactions during the party, all of it fell away like discarded masks.
"We're finally alone," Rose whispered, her voice carrying a mixture of nervousness and anticipation that made Arthur's heart race.
