He answered the door and Mabel’s breath hitched in her throat. He looked tired, but relaxed, his hair looking slightly damp as if he’d gotten out of the bath not too long ago. Mabel felt a flutter somewhere in her stomach. It hadn’t been just the foggy haze induced by the sickness that had plagued her for a week. No, he was just that handsome. The glow from the fireplace didn’t do any good - it almost cast a halo around him as he stood there in the doorway. For a moment Mabel thought she was going to be turned away, but then he ushered her in and she answered with a half smile before stepping over the threshold.

Her eyes immediately went to the rest of the flat, looking for signs of a second inhabitant. It looked lived in, but she didn’t see any woman’s cloak or shoes by the door. Still, despite the warmth that had enveloped her, Mabel stood there in her winter cloak, intent upon leaving at the first sign of someone else. “I...just wanted to stop by and say thank you.” She managed. “For looking after me last week.” She produced from her cloak a length of paper adorned in pressed flowers and length of ribbon: a bookmark, as a way of saying thank you. “You didn’t have to do that, and I appreciate the care.”

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