"Angelo, where are you going?"
I halted my steps in the parlor, turning to that voice, and saw Marvel, in all his grandeur, standing by the stairs. A piece of knee-long black coat hanging on his shoulders, warm to cover his neat outfit underneath.
"I'm going to buy some bandages for your wound, Sir," I pasted on a poker face and lied through my teeth, canceling my intention to reach the doorknobs just yet.
"At this hour?" Without changing facial expression or lingual projection, he asked again.
"Yes," I nodded, my hazel eyes staying firmly at his steel blue.
Time showed half past nine when the first wintry snow of the year fell upon the earth, spraying the dark night with white flakes in slow motion. No wonder the air is colder than usual, I thought.
He walked downstairs and came closer to me, locking my eyes without saying anything.