As summer waned, its muggy heat gradually dissipated. By dawn, the air was cool enough to chill the tip of one’s nose.

Still lying with his eyes closed, Gopher pulled the blanket higher and reached for the space beside him. His hand met only the sheets. A sudden chill ran down his spine, prompting him to open his eyes.

The room was dark, yet the empty spot on the bed was unmistakable.

“Mel…?”

No answer.

Mel was gone.

Throwing off the blanket with a rustle, Gopher sat up in bed. He glanced around and noticed a faint light emanating from one side of the room. On the table, a single red glow from a candle illuminated the surroundings. Gopher approached the table.

Mel wasn’t there either. Only a letter and a carelessly abandoned fountain pen stained with ink occupied the space. With trembling hands, he picked up the paper.

His eyes moved slowly upward from the bottom of the page, lingering on Mel’s familiar handwriting. At the top, just one word:

“I’m sorry.”

Ah.

Mel had left.

The realization hit like a wave, and blood rushed to his heart. A crushing weight filled his chest as if it might harden into stone and burst apart. Overwhelmed, Gopher jolted awake.

Gasping for air, he took a deep breath.

“……”

Gopher remained frozen, lungs filled, staring ahead. Unlike moments before, the room was now bathed in light. Sunshine poured through the window, clearly outlining the bedroom’s structure.

His gaze wandered cautiously, tracing the air until it finally landed on the space beside him. At that moment, the tension in his chest eased, and he released a sigh.

Strands of white hair were scattered across the sheets. A woman’s cheeks as pale as her hair lay sleeping peacefully. Her soft, steady breathing was faint but clearly audible, brushing gently against his ears.

‘It was just a dream.’

Gopher exhaled in relief. Yet, unable to thoroughly shake his unease, he reached out tentatively. Pulling her lukewarm body into his arms, he pressed his forehead against the curve of her neck and shoulder. He thought he was being careful, but perhaps not enough.

“Gopher?”

“Sorry. Go back to sleep.”

He tightened his hold on Mel to keep her from slipping away.

“No, I’m awake now.”

Mel shifted slightly, her small movements clear against him. Gopher felt a twinge of resentment at her trying to pull away and an overwhelming affection for her delicate hands pushing at his chest. Reluctantly, he let her go.

Her sleepy face made him smile despite himself. Gopher kissed her forehead and greeted her softly.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mm… Good morning, Gopher.”

Mel, still groggy, leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice anything amiss.

It wasn’t unusual. This wasn’t the first time Gopher had woken from a nightmare, and lately, it had been happening more often.

No matter what occurred in his dreams, reality remained unchanged. Gopher started another day as usual. After sharing breakfast with Mel and walking through the garden, he holed up in his study to work.

Still, as he sifted through documents, his thoughts wandered. The sharp snap of something breaking snapped him back to the present. Looking down, he saw ink splattered across the papers, a stained glove, and a broken fountain pen.

“Again?”

With a sigh, he tossed the pen aside and peeled off the soiled glove, discarding it on the desk.

Meow! A sharp sound of protest came from the desk’s corner. A white cat named Bibi had been napping there. During a trip to Conercio, Mel had taken in the creature, and it had since become her constant companion. Though it usually clung to Mel, Bibi had been unusually attached to Gopher these past few days.

Not that the affection seemed mutual—right now, the cat glared at him while licking its fur, clearly disgruntled.

“It’s not like the ink got on you,” Gopher muttered, noticing a dark stain on Bibi’s fur. Silently, he fetched a handkerchief to wipe it off. Bibi retaliated with a sharp nip, not enough to draw blood but enough to sting.

“……”

Gopher squinted at the cat and rang the bell. A knock soon followed, and he called for the person to enter. The door opened.

“Take the cat for a bath. It got ink on its fur.”

“Ink?”

The voice wasn’t his usual attendant’s—it was Mel. She stood in the doorway, balancing a tray with a coffee cup.

“Mel?”

“I thought I’d bring this as an excuse to see you. Are you busy?”

“Not at all. Terribly idle, even.”

Mel gave a small smile. Gopher took the tray and set it on the desk, unable to suppress a matching grin. Even Bibi, startled by the mention of a bath, seemed endearing as it puffed up and tried to hide behind Mel.

“So the ink… You broke another one?”

“Ah.”

“Are you using pens that are too fragile?”

Mel took his hand and examined it for any injuries. Gopher couldn’t very well admit that he often broke pens when his thoughts turned dark. He offered a weak excuse instead.

“Bibi startled me. I’m still getting used to her antics.”

The cat narrowed its eyes at him as if understanding the blame. He feigned ignorance.

“Don’t worry about it. I was planning to switch pens anyway. None of them have been quite to my liking.”

“Tired of them already?”

Gopher froze at her words, his gaze locking on hers. The memory of the letter from his dream flashed through his mind, weighing on him. His voice was hoarse when he replied.

“…No.”

Mel tilted her head, puzzled by the contradiction. Gopher changed the subject.

“Thanks for the coffee. Two cups would’ve been better, though.”

“I can’t keep a busy man from his work for too long.”

Idle, I said, he thought, but he held back. Glancing at the towering pile of documents, he knew she wouldn’t believe him.

“Gopher?”

“Yes, Mel?”

“You’ve seemed tired lately. Is everything okay?”

Has it been that obvious? He resisted the urge to check his reflection and instead smiled as usual.

“No, nothing’s wrong.”

Mel’s lips curved peculiarly. Her expression seemed both relieved and doubtful of Gopher’s words.

“Alright. Then I’ll just…”

Mel trailed off, preparing to leave as if delivering coffee had been her only purpose. A sudden thirst for her overcame Gopher, pushing him to act impulsively. He wrapped his arm around her slender waist and pulled her closer.

He pried her lips apart, his tongue exploring every delicate crevice—the soft palate, tender flesh, and supple interior. The quiet study filled with the illicit sounds of his fervent kiss. Heat surged from his chest to his limbs as he lifted her and set her on the desk, his tongue tracing hers with insistent pressure.

Mel, who had been passively allowing his advances, finally stopped him when his hand ventured toward her bare skin. She pushed him away, her flushed face catching her breath.

“It’s the middle of the day,” she said.

It seemed insignificant, but Gopher swallowed his protest, knowing it wouldn’t sway her. Instead, he fixed her with an intense gaze and asked, “At night, then?”

“… Don’t forget we’re attending a party tonight. I won’t have the energy for this.”

Mel pressed against his chest, sliding off the desk with determined resolve. Though her disheveled appearance was endearing, the hands smoothing her attire left no room for negotiation.

“I should start getting ready. I’ll head out now.”

She stroked the cat, clinging to her legs, before walking to the door. Just as she reached it, Gopher called out to her.

“Is everything alright?”

It was the same question Mel had asked him earlier. Her reaction was subtle but telling—her eyes widened slightly before her brows shifted in a faint, uneven tilt. Yet the hesitation passed quickly.

Mel composed herself, replying playfully, “Probably?”

With that, the door clicked shut. The sound wasn’t deafening, but the resonance seemed strikingly clear to Gopher’s ears. He stared at the closed door, sipping his coffee. Its lukewarm temperature stirred something unsettling within him.

“…Hah.”

He covered his face with both hands.

Of course. The frequent nightmares and his habit of snapping fountain pens stemmed from this. Lately, something about Mel has changed.

They still shared meals and walked together, but she refused to drink coffee or wine with him. Even when they kissed, she claimed fatigue and avoided their nights together. She often seemed lost in thought, preoccupied with some unresolved matter. No matter how much he asked, she offered no answers.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it. But as those days accumulated, his suppressed anxiety began to surface, manifesting as nightmares that consumed his nights.

He recalled something Stella had once said:

“Does she feel the same way you do?”

“So far, you’re the only one who’s extended a hand to her. But even if she grabbed it, her feelings could change once the number of options increases. Are you confident, knowing that?”

Those words had taken root in his mind like a curse. For a time, things had flowed peacefully enough, but now…

Meow! A sharp cry broke his spiraling thoughts. Gopher’s gaze dropped instinctively.

“No, that’s not allowed.”

Bibi, who had interrupted his dark musings, was attempting to dip her paw into his coffee. Gopher quickly lifted the cup out of reach, averting another mess.