As soon as the door closed behind him, Ray pulled the red-haired woman back into his arms. He couldn't help himself. He held Eve against his chest in a tight embrace for a little longer than necessary, almost as if he needed to ensure she was safe. He needed this time to calm down to some extent.

He inhaled the air deeply—strawberries, fresh hair dye, syrup... and alcohol. And yet, at the moment, he couldn't think of anything he would have preferred to smell. He carefully stroked the ruby-red mop of hair and the wild curls, brushing a few strangely stuck together. Only then did he detach himself from her enough to look at her.

Only now, in the hallway's light, could he make out anything more. His eyes widened immediately when he saw the faded traces of makeup. He could still see pale evidence of dried tears on her cheeks, and the once soft strands were sticky and still slightly damp. His gaze slid deeper of its own accord, and now he also recognized the telltale sticky residue on her neck, shoulders, and clothes. So that's why she smelled so strongly of alcohol ...

"What happened? Why are you so ... wet?" he asked cautiously. His heart almost dropped with worry as he lifted his hand to place it against her cheek. Eve's skin was cool under his fingers, and his thumb immediately stroked the tear ducts.

What had happened?

Who had made her cry?

His words made Eve, lying in his arms, flinch slightly as if he had taken her by surprise with his care. She stared at him momentarily, opened her mouth, and closed it again. Her beautiful green-blue eyes were slightly red, and her pupils were treacherously dilated. Ray almost said that the cloudy veil of alcohol was over her.

Only then did she seem to remember that he was looking her straight in the face, and her hand shot up to hide her scar and milky eye. But he was quicker. His fingers wrapped around hers, stopping her from pushing the strands into her face. He shook his head slightly.

"Don't do that," he whispered.

He could see Eve swallowing, apparently trying to sort out her thoughts. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths; then she restarted: "Nothing. It was nothing," he heard her stammer as she staggered back. She almost tripped over her own feet as she backed up.

"Whoops!"

Just in time, his hand jerked forward, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back into his arms as she was about to lose her balance.

Ray watched as she bit her lips in embarrassment before her shoulders slumped a little. "A little mishap," she finally mumbled.

She was ... adorable. He knew he shouldn't think like that, but he just couldn't help it. The alcohol did seem to have more of an effect on the little red-haired woman in front of him—probably the shock of fresh air.

It brought a slight smile to his lips.

"Hold on to my shoulders," he instructed her softly, guiding her hands to his before slowly crouching down to slip her boots off her feet. As he did so, he noticed how much smaller and more delicate her feet were compared to his.

Eve blinked down at him. He could feel her gaze on him and was aware of every inch of her fingers on his sweater. Her hands were cool, and it was no wonder she had been sitting in the car freezing for an hour. No, that was as far as he wanted to think right now.

"Sally was in the bar," came the first words from Eve's lips, causing him to stop moving momentarily. What, Sally? Seriously?

His jaw muscles immediately tightened. Could anything else go wrong in one evening?

"She said," Eve's voice faltered, and he could literally hear the lump choking off her breath, "that I should disappear. And that... that I'd only get pity anyway..."

Finally, the words fell like pebbles from the young mother's throat. She told him about the evening in the bar and the encounter with Sally, and Ray carefully put Eve's boots on one side. But his fingers twitched treacherously under the seemingly calm image. Part of him wanted to jump up when he learned of Sally's behavior. What was this ... NRGH!

He had to take a deeper breath to force himself to calm down. Not give in to the temptation to grab a cab and head to the rocker bar to snack on the blonde. This woman just needed someone to tell her off. Someone who wouldn't let her wrap him up or only think about his cock!

But another, much stronger part pushed the anger aside.

"Eve," he said softly, straightening up. Her hands were still on his shoulders but were already sliding lower. Her chin was still lowered because she didn't dare look at him. He tenderly slid his hand under her chin and lifted it so she could look him in the eye.

Her sadness stabbed him in the chest, and he wished he had been there. But he could no longer help it. All he could and wanted to do now was be there for her, to catch and hold her.

"You're always far too hard on yourself."

His upper body leaned down towards her, barely noticeable. From her chin, his hand slid up the curve of her jaw, past the scar, and lovingly stroked a few sticky strands from her face.

"Beauty is not just a question of looks but also the heart and soul." Even as he spoke, the distance between them narrowed as he leaned further forward until his forehead rested against hers. His strong heart beat nervously in his chest. But this time, a completely different fear made his muscles no less stiff.

The worry that he might get too close to her or that she might reject him.

He felt like a teenager before his first kiss. Nervous, confused, full of longing. But he allowed himself this moment of weakness because it felt right simultaneously.

"Eve, mere beauty is like a golden apple. They are beautiful to look at for a while, but they are cold in the hand and do not satisfy hunger. What good is it to shine like the sun without warmth?"

He touched her back and spread his fingers as if to ease the tension. The fabric was soft, just like Eve's. It felt wonderful to him, and he would have liked to reach out and pull her even tighter against him.

"Eve... you're beautiful," he whispered, nudging her with his nose. It was a gentle touch, nothing more than a breeze.

"Ray... no, I..." she whispered, and Ray felt her breath on his skin as his heart raced.

"Shhh!" His finger gently but firmly placed itself on her lips to prevent her from contradicting him. "Let me finish," he begged softly, and his finger slipped away. 

He couldn't stop himself. As if he were the blind man trying to rediscover her, his fingertip tenderly traced the delicate curve of her cupid's bow. God, her lips were so soft ...

Ray had to force himself to concentrate; otherwise, his thoughts would have slipped away.