Before I could get very far, I found myself turning back. He was still on the floor, looking very dazed. Setting aside any sexual harrassment charges, I went inside and shut the door. He stood up slowly, facing me.

“What…” he started, but I walked forward and put my hand over his mouth.

“Don’t say anything,” I warned. This time I grabbed his face and brought it to mine, and we started over, a little less forcibly. He slowly reached around me and held me by my arms.

We began to move around his flat, entangled together, joined at the lips, tumbling over boxes in the dim lighting. We landed with a thud on the piano, the keys making terrible clanging noises as my bum hit ivory.

“What is your name?” He whispered into my ear.

“Its M-”

We were interrupted shortly when the angry man came storming in, stopping abrubtly at the sight.

“Pierre!” He cried out angrily. I let go of Pierre, but he continued grasping me. I ducked out from under his arms and ran for the door.