Across the ocean.
The clock ticked, in the quiet night, the room was filled with cigar smoke, and the bone china ashtray was tapped lightly, revealing a few grey marks on the pure white interior.
The fingers holding the cigar were slender, and the skin was a little loose and pale.
On her middle finger she wore a large cat's eye ring with an exquisite base. The soft light coming through the gap in the curtains made the chrysoberyl reflect a narrow and bright light in the darkness, which was coldly beautiful.
The man's face was hidden in the darkness, his coat hanging on the coat rack in the room, he was wearing only a silk gray shirt, one hand resting on the armrest of the sofa, the red glow of his cigar faintly visible.
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