I knock on the outer wood of the old shed, my dress collecting wet snow at its hems. Splinters burrow into the soft skin of my knuckles, and I wince while knocking for the second time.

Groggy, frustrated groans rumbled from the other side of the wood. I must have woken him up, I thought.

"'The hell do you want now, Cavalier?"

I scowl "Don, It's me, Francine; I thought I would come to pay you another visit."

I hear grunting from the other side, groggy and burnt out.

"You truly don't quit, do you Kitten?"

"Never."

He groaned quietly, and I can see his golden iris peeping through the crevices of wood to loom over me. "You got the book?"

I nod tensely, speaking with the same sensation in my tone. "Unless you'd like to just use your voice tonight? Since it's too early for anyone else to be awake."

The Don chuckled, his eye only glowing brighter as I sensed him scooting closer to the wall that separated he and I. A thick lump formed in my throat with his choice of words, clogging my word-way from letting out so much as a squeak.

"It's too early for a little thing like YOU to be up, now isn't it? You must be extremely desperate to hear me say your name then."

I cringe, sucking in my bottom lip and glowering at him. The nerve of this man-! What did he think I wanted? He's at least twice my age and he believes that I-

I hiss through my teeth, irked and choking on bile "Exactly who do you think I am, Don?"

The skeleton howled with laughter, to which I bang my fist in the wood, my cheeks enflamed and vision blurred with fury. "This isn't a laughing matter, Don G. It's insulting and stereotypical!"

Of course, I don't blame him for believing I'm some slut. Father has spread many rumors about me to the men around town and to his colleagues to keep me to himself and to prevent me from finding another lover again. Though some bachelors may try, they never have the chance to lay a fingernail on me before my father rids of them. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind this. I simply don't appreciate being mocked in public for things I never did. I just never expected Don, of all people, to believe such a repulsive thing.

The Don spoke in his low and rumbling voice, and I felt his fingers caress my cheek. This is when I look at him, eyes widened at the sight of his busted, and scuffed up gloved hand having ripped its way through the wood just to touch me. I shiver.

"Oh don't be like that, Doll. I was only pulling your hair a bit."

I shift away from him, jostling his hand back through the shed with a bitter grimace. "I don't care. It's rude to believe such things of a woman you hardly know. That would be like me making racist accusations towards you for being a monster."

Things grew glacial, the sound of huffs coming from the other side of the door. I listen to his body lightly slamming into his side of the barrier, then to his sigh. "You've got some pride for a widowed lunger."

"And you aren't exactly a comedian for someone with a funny bone." I retorted quickly, still holding the basket in my thighs before deciding to cut this meeting short.

"I'm going to give this to you through the door, okay? It's too big to fit through the rifts."

I just wanted an excuse to see what life in his shed was like.

More importantly... I wished to see how badly beaten this man was. It was a stinging curiosity I wanted the remedy for, and I assumed this was how I was going to find it.

The Don was quiet. His breathing seemed intendedly slow as he peeks through the rift one more time. His golde iris was glowing dimmer it appeared, and his tone lowered from the friendly one he'd been using to speak to me with transitioned to the one he uses on my father.

"You seriously want to step into this office?"

I smile softly for this stranger, standing slowly with the bread on one arm and my tank on the other. Without thinking or having time to hesitate I placed my hand in the door and flipped the three hooks keeping it locked.

If I had time to think, I would have taken it.

If I gave myself that time, would I have hesitated?

Yes.

Yes, I probably would have.

But all that reasoning and logical thinking had thrown itself out the window of my brain when I heard him speak to me in such an aggressive manner.

I had to prove myself; I needed to let him know that I'm of no threat to his well being, that I...-

"I see a rotten old shed that needs repainting, and I see that it has a lonely old man inside."

- .... That I only want the thing he so desperately seemed to need.

I could see Don's sockets grow bigger as I shut the door behind me. With it left us alone and secluded in the dark, with nothing but old tools, frayed rope, and the two of us.

He looked at me as though I had gone bat-mad. "Why in the world would a frail, disabled and scrawny human female willingly stroll into a shed with a big strong monster inside?" I suppose was what he thought. But what I wonder is why he allowed me to stand there as long as I did.

He stared up at me, white pupils being the only light, besides the nighttime moonbeams creeping in. With no more hesitation or need for speaking, I hold the basket out to him.

He slammed his eyes for a moment and took it from me. Before I gave him a chance to react properly to the slice of bread I escort myself out and make way towards the back door, my head held high and my hopes of brightening someone's day much stronger than before.