You were in your own home resting on a Saturday afternoon when you heard someone knocking on the door so softly that if you weren't alert you wouldn't have heard it. You got up from the sofa and when you opened the door you found a small female figure with jet hair and a sad look looking at you with a certain shyness. You could tell by the way she was dressed that she was cooking something because her apron was stained with something that looked like chocolate

"Neighbor, I-I'm sorry to bother you at this hour and... I'm really embarrassed to have to do this but..." She fiddles with her flowered skirt shyly as she seemed to be looking for courage to speak "Can't you give me some butter? It's just that I'm making a chocolate cake and I didn't remember I was out of it..."

Thank you, Neighbor... You really don't have to do that but I appreciate it... She hesitates a moment before asking more shyly And would you like to come in? I mean... If you don't mind of course. It would be nice if someone was here while I wait for my husband... I-I could make some tea or something...

"Oh, that'd be lovely..." she murmurs softly as she opens the door wider to let you in. You step inside and take a quick look around; it's almost empty apart from a couple of cheap flower vases and some old furniture covered with dust sheets. The floor is covered by thick carpets, making it feel warm and comfortable despite the lack of furniture

"I'm Lissa, by the way... It's nice to finally meet my neighbor..." She shyly extends a hand for you to shake as she waits nervously for your reply. Her dark brown eyes dart away every now and then, seemingly afraid that you might reject her somehow

Her handshake is soft and delicate in his big, warm hands. "I-It's nice to meet you too, Neighbor... I apologize for just coming over like this but I didn't want my cake to suffer because of me..." She trails off, her voice quivering slightly as she realizes how pathetic that sounds. Lissa has always been the perfect housewife - well-dressed, keeping a clean home and taking care of her husband's every need. But now that Eric isn't around as much, she feels useless and unwanted. It hurts to admit it even to herself, let alone to someone else. "Would you like some tea?" She asks, trying to change the subject as she busies herself with putting water on the stove. The ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner is the only sound that breaks the silence between them. Lissa doesn't dare to turn around and meet his gaze again, afraid that he might see how much pain she's hiding behind those sad eyes. "So," she continues, forcing a small smile, "what do you do for a living?"

On this particular day, Lissa chose to wear an unassuming flower-patterned long sleeve shirt which fell loosely around her thin body, revealing her pale skin and the deep dark circles under her eyes. The straight black hair that hung down her back was pulled back into a messy bun, revealing tiny piercings behind each earlobe. Her petite figure was mostly hidden beneath a flowery apron that had seen better days but still held onto its charm thanks to her efforts of maintaining it. Lissa's pale legs were encased in cotton ankle socks and she wore comfortable flat slippers on her feet as not to risk hurting herself while moving around the house. She glanced at you out of the corner of her eye, wondering if you had noticed any of these details or if you were simply interested in talking about something else entirely. Her heart beat a little faster as she waited for your reply, wishing that somehow this moment could last forever and that Eric would never come back to ruin everything again.

Lissa listened to you speak, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she felt comforted by your presence. "Oh, that's... nice," she offered quietly, not sure what else to say. To Lissa, selling things didn't sound like such an uninteresting job; it was proof that you were out there in the world, doing something for yourself. In contrast, her own life had become nothing but endless days spent cooking, cleaning, and tending to the garden - her sole purpose being to make sure Eric felt comfortable when he finally decided to grace them with his presence. "Well," she continued after a pause, "I used to work in the town library before... I met Eric. I enjoyed it; books have always been my escape from reality." She shrugged self-consciously and glanced away again, her dark hair falling over her face as if to shield her thoughts from you. "But then he... well, he didn't approve of me working outside the home. He said it wasn't 'ladylike,'" she said with a small laugh that held no humor at all. "So here I am now." Lissa poured the steaming tea into two cups and handed one to you before taking a sip from her own. The warm liquid felt good on her tongue, almost numbing the ache inside her chest as she imagined a life where she mattered; where someone loved her just for who she was and not because they had to. "What about your family?" She asked, trying to change the subject again and maybe learn something more about you. "Do you have any siblings or parents that live nearby?"

"Well," she said, taking another sip of her tea as she thought about your question, "I don't think he meant it in a bad way, exactly. It's just... Eric can be a bit old-fashioned sometimes. He grew up with the idea that the woman's place is at home, taking care of her husband and raising their children. I tried to tell him that times have changed, but..." Her voice trailed off as she shrugged helplessly. "I suppose he didn't want anyone or anything to interfere with his career." She paused for a moment before adding, "But you don't seem like the type of person who would think that way." Lissa glanced at you from the corner of her eye and smiled shyly. There was something about you that made her feel... valued. As if just being in your presence made her worthy of notice. It was a feeling she hadn't experienced in so long, it almost scared her. "So," she said, trying to change the subject again, "what do you like to do when you aren't working?"

The mention of drawing made her eyes light up with interest, as if she had discovered a hidden treasure. "You're an artist? That's so amazing!" She exclaimed, finally finding the courage to meet your gaze properly. Her pale skin looked even paler against the bright yellow wallpaper behind her, making it seem almost translucent. "I wish I could draw... or paint... anything really. My father used to be an artist, you see, and he tried to teach me when I was younger but..." She shrugged apologetically. "It just never stuck." Her heart raced as she listened to your response about wanting to spend more time with her. The idea of having someone to talk to, someone who actually seemed to enjoy her company... it was almost too much to hope for. But the feeling of happiness that welled up inside her chest at the thought made everything else fade away, even if only for a moment. "I-I'd like that," she whispered softly, her eyes not leaving yours as they searched for some sign that maybe, just maybe, you meant it. "What sort of things do you like to draw?" She asked, gesturing towards a small table where a few sketchbooks were stacked haphazardly. "I'd love to see your work sometime." The vulnerability in her voice was plain to hear; here she was, offering up a piece of herself to someone who was essentially a stranger. But with each word that came out of her mouth, the weight on her chest seemed to lift just a little bit more, and she found herself wishing for nothing more than for this moment to last forever.

The offer to visit your home brought a blush to her cheeks that threatened to spread all the way down to her neck. It was incredibly forward of you, but at the same time, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement run through her at the idea. Eric had never invited her to his place; he always insisted on meeting her friends or family elsewhere so that it wouldn't "taint" their image of him as the perfect man. It was yet another way in which she felt trapped and alone, but your offer made her feel like there might be a chance for something more. Tentatively, she nodded. "I-I'd like that," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you." The thought of spending time with you outside of Eric's watchful eye filled her with hope; perhaps if she could just show you who she really was, away from the shadow of his disapproval, then maybe... maybe there was still some part of herself that she hadn't yet given up on. Her hands trembled slightly as she poured another cup of tea, the steam dancing around her face like ethereal fingers reaching out to touch her skin. As she sipped from her cup, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips; it had been so long since anyone had made her feel this way, this... important and wanted. Perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to life than being a neglected wife and a lonely mistress to someone else's dreams. "So," she said hesitantly after a moment, "what kinds of things do you like to draw when you aren't working? Any favorite places or scenery?" Her heart skipped a beat as she waited for your reply, her eyes fixed on yours as if they might reveal the secret to everything that had been missing

As the afternoon faded into evening, you and Lissa continued to chat companionably, swapping stories about your past lives and shared interests. She found herself feeling more relaxed in your presence than she could remember feeling in years; it was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders simply by being able to talk openly and honestly with someone who didn't judge her or make her feel ashamed of who she was. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world outside Lissa's window into a warm glow of pink and orange hues, but neither of you seemed to notice as your conversation flowed effortlessly from one topic to another. At one point, Lissa even found herself laughing genuinely at something you said, her laughter filling the small space between them and making it feel even more intimate than before. Eventually, however, the inevitable hour grew late, and with a sigh of reluctance, you stood up from your seat. "Well," you murmured, glancing at your watch, "I should probably be going." Lissa's heart sank at the realization that your time together was coming to an end; already she missed the warmth and comfort your presence had brought her. "Don't be a stranger, okay?" She said quickly, trying to force a smile onto her face even as tears threatened to spill over from the corners of her eyes. "You know where I am... If you ever want company or just someone to talk to..." She trailed off, feeling stupid for making such an obvious plea. But she couldn't help it; she wanted nothing more than for this moment to last forever. "I will," you assured her, bending down to kiss her cheek gently before straightening up again and offering your hand. "Thanks for the tea, Lissa." She took your hand in

Lissa looks up at you with a smile as you hand her your hand. She squeezes it softly, feeling a warmth spread through her entire body. "Thank you for coming over," she whispers, her voice barely audible above the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner. "It meant more to me than you'll ever know." As you pull your hand back, she watches you walk towards the door, unable to tear her eyes away from your retreating figure. The moment you step outside, Lissa is overcome with a sudden rush of loneliness; it feels like the entire world has just disappeared, leaving only the echo of your footsteps on the pavement and the fading scent of your cologne to remind her that you were ever there. She shuts the door softly, leaning against it for support as tears begin to stream down her cheeks. But even though she feels empty inside, a tiny spark of hope remains lit within her heart; a secret flame that whispers that maybe, just maybe, things could be different one day. For now, she knows she has someone to come back to: the neighbor she never really knew until today...the person who made her feel truly alive for the first time in years.

The sound of the doorbell echoes through the silent house and makes her heart skip a beat. Her fingers tremble as she walks over to the entrance and slowly opens it, revealing the handsome face of your neighbor. The warmth that spreads through her body at the sight of you feels so foreign, yet so welcome; like an invitation to a party she'd always been dying to attend. "Oh... hi," she says quietly, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. "I-Is something wrong?" She steps aside to let you in, her eyes darting nervously around the room as if searching for any sign that Eric might have returned earlier than expected. The thought of having to explain your presence makes her stomach churn with anxiety, but she can't help but feel a tiny spark of hope ignite within her chest at the knowledge that you're here again, by her side. "No," you reply with a reassuring smile, "everything's fine. I just wanted to see how you were doing... and if you'd like to come over again." The words send a shiver down her spine; she hadn't realized how much she'd missed talking to you until this very moment. The thought of spending time with you outside the confines of her own home fills her with anticipation, but also with a growing sense of longing for something more...something permanent.

As she takes in your offer, her heart leaps with excitement; the thought of seeing your artwork up close and personal fills her with a strange mix of anticipation and nervousness. On the one hand, she's afraid that admitting she has an interest in something other than cooking or cleaning might anger Eric even further; he'd probably see it as yet another example of her not being the "proper" wife he deserves. But on the other hand...the idea of spending time with you, away from his watchful eye and judgmental comments, is too tempting to resist. With a hesitant nod, she steps forward to take your hand in hers. Your skin feels warm against hers, sending shivers down her spine; it's as if just by touching you, she can feel the energy and passion that lie beneath your quiet exterior. "I-I'd like that," she whispers, blushing slightly at her own boldness. "Thank you."

As you lead her towards the door, she glances around one last time, wondering how Eric will react when he sees her going out again without his permission...but this time it doesn't matter as much anymore; with each step she takes away from him and closer to you, Lissa feels herself becoming more and more alive, as if a part of her that had been dormant for far too long was finally starting to wake up.

As your hand settles gently on her lower back, guiding her out the door and into the fresh afternoon air, she can't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. The warmth of your touch sends waves of anticipation and longing spreading across her skin; it feels as if just being near you is enough to make all her worries and doubts fade away. The walk to your place takes only a few minutes, but each step they take together feels like an eternity in which their connection deepens and grows stronger with every shared breath. The air around them crackles with energy, as if anything could happen in this moment; as if the world itself has stopped spinning just long enough for them to be together. When you finally arrive at your front door, Lissa's heart is pounding so hard she can feel it in her ears. She looks up at you with a mixture of shyness and eagerness, wondering what lies ahead now that they're here. Her fingers twitch with the desire to reach out and touch your face, to feel the rough texture of your stubble against her smooth skin. But before she can dare make such a bold move, you turn towards her, your eyes fixed on hers like two burning embers in the night sky.

Her heart skips a beat as you invite her in, the breath caught in her throat as she takes a tentative step across your threshold. The inside of your home is warm and welcoming, with vibrant colors on the walls and cozy furniture arranged invitingly around the room. In contrast to Eric's sterile mansion, this place feels like a sanctuary; like a haven where she can finally be herself without fear or judgment.

As you lead her further into your home, Lissa can feel the intensity of your gaze burning into the back of her neck. It sends shivers down her spine and makes her skin tingle all over with anticipation. She wonders what it is about you that draws her so powerfully; why just being near you feels like coming home after a long journey.

Finally, you come to a stop in front of a large bookshelf filled with art supplies and various pieces of finished artwork. With a hesitant smile, you gesture for her to take a look around while you go get something else from the kitchen. The moment she's alone, her hands tremble as she reaches out to touch one of the paintings hanging on the wall nearby; the rough texture of the canvas under her fingertips sends a shiver through her entire body.

It takes several minutes before you return with whatever it was you went for, and when you do, Lissa is standing right beside one of your sketchbooks, her finger tracing over the lines and curves of a drawing that reminds her so much of herself: vibrant, alive, and full of potential. With a deep breath, she closes the sketchbook and turns to face you once more, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she meets your eyes for the first time since entering your home.

As you gaze at her, taking in every detail of her appearance, Lissa feels a blush spread across her cheeks. She's wearing a simple yet elegant dress that falls to mid-thigh, revealing pale legs encased in black tights and dark blue ballet flats. The neckline dips low enough to show off the tops of her full breasts, while the rest of the dress clings tightly to her curves. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a messy bun, revealing the delicate curve of her neck and the perfectly arched eyebrows above her crystal blue eyes. Her heart races as she meets your gaze, feeling an intense desire welling up inside her chest. She wants nothing more than to feel your touch, to know what it's like to be close to you without Eric hovering nearby and judging every move they make. With each passing moment, the boundaries between reality and fantasy blur further, until she isn't sure which one she prefers.

Lissa takes a step closer to you, hesitating only for a brief moment before reaching out to take your hand in hers. Her skin tingles where their fingers intertwine, and she feels the heat from your body radiate across her palm. She looks up at you with eyes full of longing and hope, wondering what might happen next between them...if there's any chance for something more than just this fleeting moment of freedom from Eric's control.

Lissa glances down at the drawing table as you gesture towards one of your sketches. It's a beautifully rendered self-portrait; your eyes meet hers from within the page, intense and searching. Her chest feels tight with emotion as she studies the lines and shadows that seem to capture not only your likeness but also something deeper - a sense of vulnerability and honesty that she's rarely seen in Eric. The piece is both striking and intimate, and she finds herself wondering how you managed to convey such complex emotions through something as simple as charcoal and paper.

Without thinking, she reaches out to touch the page where your hand once moved across it, her fingertips tracing over the delicate lines with awe and respect. "It's... astounding," she murmurs, barely able to find the words to describe what she sees before her. "I never knew you were so talented." Her voice is quiet, almost breathless with admiration, and she feels a deep yearning within her to learn more about this side of you - this hidden world that Eric has kept locked away from her for so long.

As she continues to admire your work, her cheeks flush with a warmth that spreads downward, igniting a heat low in her belly. She is unaware of the appreciative gaze you direct toward her, nor does she notice the subtle shift in atmosphere between them as their bodies grow closer. It's as if they are lost in their own private world, connected not only by the art before them but also by an unspoken desire that thrums beneath the surface of every touch and glance.

Her heart races faster with each passing moment, a frantic beat that seems to echo through her entire body. She wants more than just this fleeting connection; she wants to know what it's like to be truly seen and understood by someone who doesn't see her as merely an extension of Eric or his artistic muse. As she stands there, caught between reality and fantasy, she wonders if such a thing is even possible...or if she will always remain trapped within the confines of Eric's expectations.