Arrens departed the Violet Citadel and walked slowly towards the Ledgermain Inn. He would stay there that night, having indulged in too much wine for a portal to Stormwind to be safe. The warlock’s mind, however, was not on the fine red wine he had partaken in that evening. It was on Rosie.

Arrens had arrived at the Purple Parlor an hour early. He had made reservations earlier in the week, but he wanted to show up well ahead of time to make sure everything was perfect. Alfred, the butler, had ensured him that his normal table was reserved. It was unusual, however, that the former mage had instead requested two chairs. Normally, he ate alone. Alfred had also given Arrens the roses he had requested. The warlock wanted to make sure he wasn’t overstepping his boundaries.

At a quarter til seven, Arrens started pacing. With the exception of a few mages, the parlor was empty. Alfred, however, said, “Sir, if you would please step outside. The balcony affords a lovely view of the city proper. And you won’t be bothering the guests as you try to wear a path within the marble floor.”

“Of course, Alfred. I’m sorry. I’m just…nervous,” Arrens said.

“Might I suggest wrapping it in a bandage then, sir?” said the butler as he walked away. Arrens merely blinked at the half-deaf butler. His ability to misunderstand even the most rudimentary statements never failed to baffle him.

As the warlock peered over the balcony edge onto the city below, he sensed eyes boring into the back of his head. As he turned around, he saw Rosie. Dressed in a royal purple dress, she looked stunning. He was speechless as she approached, her brash demeanor disarming him even more. Together, they walked the balcony, admiring the view of the city and noticing the dichotomy as they swung around to the western edge to see Icecrown Citadel sticking up like a dagger on the horizon.

Sensing her chill, Arrens suggested going inside. On the way in, Arrens handed her the bouquet of white roses. She seemed at once startled and pleased as she inhaled their scent deeply.

Once seated, he ordered a bottle of the Aged Dalaran Red, his personal favorite. He inwardly chuckled at Rosie’s nervousness as she laid the napkin over her lap and rehearsed aloud which fork was for the salad and which was for the meal. It was as much endearing as it was a reversal from the norm; when she was around, it was usually he that was nervous.

They talked over their wine, discussing work and their pasts. She was a contractor for SI:7, he had found out. Her skills in calligraphy were incredible. She could forge a signature that would evade notice from the most careful inspection. While they had both been in relationships in the past, the scars left on her were of the visible variety. She had chosen to cover them up with tattoos, but they were still there if anyone had taken the care to notice. He did.

When they had appropriately depressed themselves enough with talk of past loves gone awry, Rosie asked him about the school. Arrens mentioned he was still knee-deep in conducting repairs to the building, as well as teaching several of the new students who had recently arrived. It was the paperwork, however, that would be his ruin. Rosie’s eyes shone. Her twin sister was looking for work, if only temporarily. She would have Lyr get in touch with Arrens soon. Perhaps she would be able to give the professor a hand with that backlog.

Talking of work seemed to lift Arrens’ spirits. Soon after, he ordered food for the both of them. He enjoyed his Mead Roasted Caribou. The Icefin Fillet Rosie ate seemed to please her as well.

Once the meals and the wine were finished, it was time for them to depart. He escorted her out of the Parlor and into the Violet Citadel. As they stood at the top of the stairs, Arrens wondered what to do. Say good night and go about his business? Shake her hand and thank her for a lovely evening? He didn’t have a chance to decide as she launched herself at him and kissed him deeply on the lips. She had managed, once again, to catch him unawares and leave him speechless.

When she broke the kiss, he stood there staring, mouth agape. She winked at him and said good night as she walked down the stairs and out of his view.

When he finally made it to the Ledgermain, Arrens removed his tuxedo and laid in bed. His mind was awash in memories of heady wine, good food and the kiss of a dark-haired beauty who was  yet an enigma to him.