That morning, Claire had just finished a brief yoga session in the back room of her house when Emilia appeared with hesitant steps.
"Miss Claire..." The middle-aged maid's voice wavered slightly.
Claire turned. Her damp hair was tied neatly back, a small towel draped around her neck.
"What is it?"
"Outside... at the gate. There's a young man." Emilia bowed her head slightly. "The same one as... yesterday."
Claire didn't respond immediately. She gazed through the large glass window toward the black iron gate in the distance. After a few seconds, she exhaled and set the towel on the chair.
"Let him in."
Emilia blinked in surprise but quickly nodded and hurried off.
Soon after, Elliot stepped into the mansion's courtyard, awkward yet feigning a confidence he didn't fully possess. His clothes were just as worn as the day before, though his hair looked slightly tidier—as if he'd made some effort to appear presentable. Or at least, less disheveled.
Claire waited for him on the terrace. She had changed into a pale gray loungewear set. Her expression, as always, was unreadable.
"No school today?" she asked bluntly.
Elliot smirked. "Coincidentally, I didn't feel like being smart today."
Claire studied him for a long moment before turning and walking inside. "Did you come for breakfast, or for another reason?"
"Both," Elliot replied casually, following her.
The dining room was spacious and immaculate. White walls with subtle marble accents, no excessive decorations—just a tall glass vase at the center of the long table, holding two half-wilted lilies.
Henri stood in the corner, observing silently. Elliot gave him a small nod, which Henri returned without expression.
Once seated, Emilia brought out two plates of toast, eggs, and fresh fruit. Elliot looked mesmerized. This was the most complete meal he'd ever seen served directly to him, let alone for free.
"Do you often let strangers into your house like this?" Elliot asked as he began slicing his toast.
Claire raised an eyebrow. "No. And you're not entirely a stranger."
"Meaning I'm starting to become familiar?" Elliot chuckled.
Claire didn't smile, but she didn't shut him down either.
After several minutes of silent eating, Elliot set down his fork and looked directly at Claire.
"You know, I think I should figure out who you really are."
Claire sipped her black coffee, then placed the cup down calmly. "What's the point, if you won't be here long?"
Elliot smiled, but this time it was softer. More serious.
"Because I want to stay."
Claire turned her head, unprepared for those words from a boy who should've been living freely out in the world. But she didn't answer.
She only watched him in silence, trying to ignore the unfamiliar sensation growing in her chest—something she couldn't yet name.
And outside, the morning wind carried the scent of autumn, arriving earlier than usual.
---
The rest of the morning passed in a silence that wasn't quite awkward, yet not entirely comfortable either. Claire wasn't accustomed to someone lingering in her personal space without professional reason. Henri and Emilia kept their distance, though their occasional glances betrayed their curiosity.
Elliot sat with gradually easing tension, but his gaze never truly strayed from the woman across from him. He observed the way Claire held her cup, how her posture remained flawless, and how every word she spoke sounded like a command despite her even tone.
"You live like this every day?" Elliot murmured, more to himself.
Claire glanced up slightly. "Like what?"
"Quiet. Orderly. Calculated."
"Does that sound boring to you?"
Elliot shrugged. "Maybe. But... I think I get why you chose it."
Claire didn't respond. She simply stood, adjusted her chair, and walked toward the bookshelf on the far side of the room. Her fingers trailed over the spines of thick volumes before stopping on one with a dark green cover.
"Are you still staying in the same place?" she asked without turning.
Elliot hesitated before answering, "My last boarding house got shut down. Probably because I was too honest about not being able to pay."
"And you haven't found a new place?"
"Not yet. But I've still got two more nights in the city park before the cold gets unbearable."
Claire turned slowly. Her expression didn't change, but something in her face softened slightly—whether from sympathy or exhaustion at her own silence, even she didn't know.
She returned to the table and opened the work bag she'd left on the adjacent chair. From it, she retrieved a small card—not a credit card or a business card, but an access key for the back door.
"Take this."
Elliot stared at it as if it were a foreign object.
"What is it?"
"A key. For the back entrance. You can enter the house from the garden. Henri will know if you use it."
Elliot didn't move.
Claire continued, "I'm not looking to adopt anyone. But I also won't watch someone freeze in the coming nights."
Finally, Elliot took the card. His fingers brushed against Claire's for a fraction of a second. Unintentional. Yet enough to make both of them pause.
"If I stay," Elliot said quietly, "can I learn more about you?"
Claire didn't answer. She held his gaze for a long moment, then said, "You'll only know what I allow."
With that, she stood and walked out of the dining room without looking back.
Leaving only Elliot and the small card in his hand—lighter than a sheet of paper, yet somehow heavier than anything he'd ever held.