Sore Shoulders Under Moonlight
"Julian, open up, I need to talk to you."
Bianca De Dominicis's voice drifted from outside the door, soft yet urgent in the quiet of the night.
"Looking for me?"
Julian D'Aurelius felt a strange stir in his chest. At this late hour, what could she possibly want?
Moonlight spilled through the window lattice, painting silver bars across the floor as he hurried to the door and opened it.
Standing there, Bianca looked… troubled.
Her long red hair spilled over her shoulders in slight disarray, as though she had been tossing about in thought before coming here. Those crimson eyes held a teasing light beneath the faint distress.
She stepped in, one hand clutching her stomach dramatically before collapsing onto Julian's bed with exaggerated weakness.
"Julian… my stomach hurts."
Julian stared at her for a moment, arms folding over his chest.
"My room has become a clinic now?" he asked dryly.
