A/N: More for you. Thanks for the response so far, it's very much appreciated!

The darkness was one I did not expect. I had not visited a place such as this for a long time. The moment I entered I knew almost instantly which world I had entered - the desolate one. I knew now why I had not become a frequent visitor to places like this! Because one could detect the loss and loneliness of people who dwelled in here in a heartbeat. The stench of such despondency was stronger than the overwhelming stink of alcohol. And it sickened me. I stuck close to the walls where the lights of the bar barely reached. It was probably an unwise choice considering I was looking for someone but I did not risk being surrounded by the figures that manipulated this hive.

Rhodos looked very similar to a typical bar. But of course as with any adult establishment, there were the extras that one would not see in the daylight bars I took towards. The music that played was sickly and as I looked blankly at the faces, there were some with their mouths pressed on the table – oh, the fools who drank more than they could handle! When would humanity learn? Clearly the darkness was there to provide privacy for the ones that sat petulantly with their glasses (the ones plainly mooning about the despair of their common, impoverished lives) but also to draw attention to the meagrely dressed women who danced on the worktop of the bar.

I watched, nauseated by the sight of men who stood beneath scolding the swaying bodies with cuss and drunken slurs. I had never approved of such practices – partly because I did not believe that such entertainment could be considered as entertaining, but also because it was clear that the atrociously dressed women looked hardly buoyant about dancing in such a manner. If one was to dance- surely they should dance out of good feeling? I looked away, a little queasy from the lights and felt the whole atmosphere of the place begin to unease me. Perhaps it was the music – or just the revulsion I felt for the place but I was suddenly finding my knees becoming unsteady.

It became clear that I should have stayed obedient to Nadir and had slept when I should have. Chest thundering, I quickly trundled forwards and found myself staring at an open door – a backdoor right at the end. My feet trudged down the pitch black corridor and the horrific music became a fuzzy phase in the background. However, my anxiety remained and I found myself light-headed as I stumbled through the open exit. "God." I managed stiffly as I clutched at my chest, the hit of cold, city air filling my lungs. I knew my heart was still beating an unsteady rhythm and knew only one way to soothe it. To clear my mind – I did one thing.

I sang.

It almost prompted uneasy laughter from my lips as it dawned on me that such a thing was unviable in such a public place. Even though the street was empty. My head still feeling faint I decided – quite cleverly- to settle with humming. Glancing blankly at the littered pavement across of me, I began to hum the piece I always found the most soothing. The very first piece I had played on my violin as a child. Vivaldi's Four Seasons. – Spring! Of course, a personal favourite. Listening to the music and reciting it in my mind, I began to quietly hum it – the melody almost natural as it left my lips. I exhaled softly as I tunefully crooned the song. Of course, it was working wonders for my rapidly beating heart. There was nowhere near a better place to become lost in than good music. It was clear however though that I was enjoying my solitary concert too much for as I lowered my pace, I became aware that there was another sound overlaying my hums. Or more specifically –

Someone was humming with me.

The song stopped in my lips and I felt the insides of me brace in response to the unfamiliar noise. Retreating a few steps back into the shadows – where the streetlight at the end of the pavement could not shed light – a figure suddenly stepped out from behind the large skip just right of me.

"Sorry," The voice told me tenderly, "I had to. I love that composition."

A drunk that appreciated classical music?

Perhaps I was delusional. I did not answer but simply kept silent deciding that what worked in my household must reflect the conducts of the real world somewhat - after all, when I ignored Nadir, he would fled soon enough. I had hoped for a similar rejoinder in this situation. But then, the figure seemed to ease closer and as I stumbled back feeling my back press against the wall behind me – it became obvious that I should not have been hiding in the first place. For I knew exactly who the figure was.

Her, my mind breathed outwardly. It was her. The woman I had entered the bar for – it occurred to me now, rather shamelessly that I grew so disgusted at the activities inside the bar that I had forgotten the very reason I entered in the first place. It was unlikely of me – but I suppose there were a lot of things that I had done now that was unlikely of me. My eyes stared widely at her, attempting my best to absorb as much of her face as possible but found the darkness against me. I had supposed that it would be discourteous of me to stay entirely silent. I created words in my mind as my consciousness attempted not to be deflated by the idea of her. I attempted not to be rendered wordless like in the bar for I wanted to know her.

"It's okay." I said a lot more coldly than I had opted for.

"Oh, good."

What fortune I had! For a man corrupted with unluckiness, this had certainly been rewarding. But of course two words to her could hardly underline what it was that I had aspired to say. I had wanted to accentuate the utter beauty that she was – even against the night. How I had crossed the very street I scoffed lividly at just to meet her. My lack of experience with the opposite sex – or people in general seemed to goad my downfall as no courteous words drained out.

Only a question that I doubted would engage her interest. "Fresh air?" It was something I consistently asked Nadir - although the context was different as I asked him this when I caught him smoking tobacco. He would splutter, drop the cigarette and I would uncharacteristically treat him to a dry laugh. But I avoided this form of talking as often as I can.

Small talk – that was the word. How I despised it.

"Yes," She answered simply, as my eyes pleaded to see her but my body remained anchored to the darkness I found refuge in. I could make her shape out of the shadows but it was no help as this only teased my imagination. It seemed that the more I wanted to look at her - the more of my memory from that afternoon diminished leaving me with a blank canvas. Cruel world.

"How about you?" Her soft tone inquired.

"Similar to yourself." I murmured - realizing quite significantly that this was the first conversation I had had with another person (parting from Nadir) for a long while. For five weeks to presume the least. Of course, it was something I was hardly proud of. But I could not think of a better person to coax my inner 'busybody' than her. For she was robbing me of words without even attempting to do so.

"You work here, I presume?" Although I aspired in my deepest heart that she didn't - her reply stated otherwise.

"I – well, yes... I'm sure you can figure out what I do." There was a short, almost unsure chuckle.

"You dance." I said, suddenly feeling nauseous again, "For the bar?"

She took a momentary silence. I panicked instantly presuming I had said something wrong - but then she spoke, "Yes – but only for…I don't do anything else…"

Her tone had shifted and I was unable to decipher it for a few moments. It occurred me to that her tone was not vindictive – but irresolute. The very lines she missed out in the words she uttered then dawned on me and I found my words almost incomprehensible as they dribbled out –

"Oh – oh, don't – I wasn't meaning it in that manner. I just wanted to confirm…"

The idea of her suggestion appealing to someone like me was ridiculous. I noted that my face had flushed a slight shade of red – but fortunately, it was not enough to make me light-headed again. I could already imagine what her thoughts consisted of - she probably thought I was the type to be morbidly interested in such matters. My face twisted into a form of slight apprehension. Unsure of what else one said in this situation, I opened my mouth to ask for her name when she seemed to scuttle towards the door.

"I'm sorry," She quickly dropped as she paused by the doorway, "I have to return to work now – um…thank you for the song." Since she came closer, I managed a clearer view of her. More specifically, her small but polite smile. Her youthful, innocent face. Enchanting. She could clearly see that my head had turned to watch her as she then lifted a small hand to wave and amusingly began to hum the final few notes of Spring. I was so taken by her that I had forgotten to check if she had hit the correct notes. In true fact, I barely noticed she even finished.

"I hope the air remains fresh for you, monsieur."

A small, abnormal curve formed at the edge of my lips as a chuckle lifted from hers.

"Goodbye." I uttered stiffly as my heart was lured to its speedy, charming beat once more.

And like that. She was gone.

A little vacant, I found myself crossing the road with the need to do something. The need to play my violin. I found this desire burning through me like acid - the most enthused about music I had been in a long time. And once more, it was because of her.

"Sounds like you've entranced her already, Erik...or perhaps, she has entranced you again?"

Nadir smiled at me as I continued my almost lonely violin playing of Vivaldi's spring. I had told him the story in hope that he would shed light on what it was about the meeting that had ruptured me in such a manner that I almost felt disoriented when she left. I took the bow and played a long note only to growl in frustration. It was the first time I had taken out my violin in months - already I regretted even pressing it the respect of my gaze.

"Ugh, why must everything discontent me today, Nadir?"

"What's wrong now?"

"This violin…"

"It's wrong, yes?" He laughed; I merely scowled and found myself executing a long, weary yawn. I could feel my body urging for my eyes to flicker shut and for me to settle my normally inflamed thoughts. I despised sleeping (always assumed that it was a waste of my hours) but found the indigence of rest impossible to reject. Still yawning, I put down the violin and pressed my head on the arm of my couch. I shifted and exhaled loudly.

"I despise sleep." My lips unconsciously blethered.

There was a short burst of laughter.

"Goodnight, Erik."

I looked up at Nadir as he lifted himself from the couch across me and made for the door. I could feel my exhaustion weigh on me as I grunted in response. As I was turning away from the light by the doorway, I found myself sleepily calling out into the dark once more.

"Nadir?"

"Yes?" A shadow appeared by my door as my eyes lost focus. Despite this, my lips continued as I almost vacantly shifted in my position. There was a second of silence as I slowly reigned in my constructive thoughts before switching off entirely –

"I believe she will become the key to my motivation to make music," I murmured as I consciously opened my tired eyes one more time, "I must – I must have her." The last word slipped through my lips and before I knew it I was swirling into a depth of harmonious peace. A small sigh of pleasure escaped me as I retreated into a deep slumber, serenaded by Mozart's piano concerto number twenty one. And for the first time in a long time, I found my dreams accompanied by something other than music.

She is important to me.

And I must understand why.