As you and Mozart drove to the Vaile Mansion, you looked outside of the car window. You had rolled it down. You could feel the warm summer night breeze on your face, it felt so refreshing and calm, compared to being stuck in the crowded opera house for so many hours. Mozart was across from you. He sat in silence, just looking around. You didn't notice, but while you were looking away from him, his deep eyes looked at you. As the European said it, he was starting to fancy you, he thought it was pretty obvious to you, but you weren't noticing it.
The sun was finally starting to set, the red bleeding like wine spilling threw the air. The car was getting closer to the Mansion, and you were starting to feel nervous. All your life, you had just been a visitor or maid, but now you'd be sleeping in one of the beds. You could feel the air getting colder. And by colder, you meant an actual comfortable temperature, and the humidity was finally calming down. You had called your mother to tell her that you were staying over at the Vaile Mansion. She seemed surprised, but said she was glad to see that you were making some friends; you really weren't, well, you were getting closer to 'Wolfie' you supposed.
The car stopped, you rolled down the window. Mozart reached out for your hand and you hesitantly took it. He led you out of the car and to the porch. Mozart took out a case. You thought there was probably an instrument in it, but you kept quiet. He came up to you and nodded. You opened the door and it gave a loud creek. The Mansion was dark, no one was inside. You realised that tonight, only you and Mozart would be in the house. You wondered in which bedroom you'd be sleeping in.
Mozart stepped in and you followed in behind him. The floors creaked lowly. Mozart put down the case. He nodded his head to you and beckoned you to come up with him to the second floor. You hesitantly took his hand. He led you up to the second floor, and took you into his bedroom. You wondered why he was taking you to his bedroom. The bed was a bit of a mess, and some clothes were across the floor. You hadn't cleaned in one day and it was already a mess.
"May I please take out your braids? Meine Liebste." (my dear) He asked, his hand stroking your hair. You nodded and took a deep breath. He gently pulled out your right braid. The right side of your hair fell to your knees. He then started to pull out your left braid, and it fell to your knees. He felt your hair. It was soft and warm, somewhat like his, just much longer.
"Where will I be sleeping tonight?" You asked, a bit uncomfortable. You had never been in a man's bedroom other than to clean it, and even then you were alone. You cast your eyes down, you didn't want him to see your face right now. You had an odd feeling for him, a feeling you couldn't really describe or put your finger on.
"If you wouldn't be too bothered, I was thinking you could perhaps sleep in my bed with me." He said ever so gently to you.
"Alright then." You said in a whisper. Mozart took out an old gown and gave it to you. It was light pink and had little daisies on it, you bet it was probably from Germany, it was pretty.
"Is it alright if I undress in front of you?" You asked, blushing. Mozart nodded and went to his chest, undressing as he went along. You turned away the second he started to undress. You were embarrassed to be in front of a half way naked man. You also started to slip off your dress. It was tight, and when it fell to the floor you could feel your lungs thanking you. You then took off your bra. Mozart turned to look at you and saw your breasts for a split second, but turned away, he knew it was wrong to look at a woman's nakedness without being married. You then slipped on the gown. It went down to your knees. Your nipples were cold and Mozart could see them through your gown.
Mozart then lay down on the bed. He was in a loose tunic cotton shirt and loose grey shorts. He looked oddly sexy and tempting. "Come lay down, darling, you look good." He said, patting the side beside him. You slid down next to him. The bed was warm and comforting, it reminded you of him.
"Mozart, when would you like me ro practice Opera with you?" You asked, sitting up, pulling the duvet up to your chest. It was soft and made of pure cotton.
"We can start tomorrow morning if you like? If you don't have school or anything else going on, and anyway, your boss won't be there." He said, taking your hand. You felt a bit like a couple, it was a feeling you liked and felt weird about at the same time.
"I have class at 3pm, but other than that I'm free. Are you sure you're okay with dealing with me for a couple of hours? I can be a little difficult at times." You said, your eyes looking tired.
"Yes I'm sure, and you're not a difficult person, Y/N. Or at least not as bad as the Opera singers I have to work with. Anyway, you should get some sleep. Goodnight." He said, turning off the lamp light and laying on his side, away from you.
You turned on your side after him. You stayed awake for a while, just contemplating. You wondered why someone like Mozart, would take any interest in you. You didn't see yourself as one of the beautiful European Opera singers he often associated with. He was now snoring a bit. He slept peacefully, you could feel his body heat radiating off of him to you. You closed your eyes and drifted off into sleep.
