A heart full of joy. Just in case, a Queen of the Night flower, carefully chosen and held close to the chest.

I hope she likes it.

Beyond that door, inside that small studio, Guest will be there. She said she was an erotic painter.

My face flushes hot.

Knock, knock.

A gentle knock on the birch door. A sign hanging on a small hook reads 'welcume' in soft handwriting.

Wait. The spelling is wrong. She might be quite a dummy.

I stare stubbornly at the sign.

Then, I see Guest's shadow through the gap of the opening door.

What the... she's cute.