The street was damp, it gave off a warning to turn back, but she kept walking. Dark figures emerged from corners and shop doors, led to follow the scent of a beautiful stranger. Although she had no buisness being here, tonight she had to set something. She needed to end the troubles and pain tonight. For if she didn't, she would never sleep a peaceful slumber ever again. The figures followed blankly and slowly behind her clacking heels. Her jeans and belt would slip down and urge her to pull them up without attention drawn to her belt loops. She paced herself and walked faster, now running towards a red door at the other side of the street. No one drives at 3 a.m. in this part of town. The figures stopped following her and fell back at the end of the ally. She stepped across the road like she had before, but never had she seen these streets in her life. She pressed herself against the shiny alumimun-like doors to stop her rigid feet from running. She opended the doors, and even though they were unlocked, she was not surprised and stepped in brightly. The door shut and snapped behind her. Without caring she had been locked in, she walked cautiously to a checkered card table and sat in a red plastic chair. The walls were white, like the phsyco facilities. It made her feel uncomfortable, but she adjusted and breathed in lightly, but not steadily. Her breathes were unsteady; a long one, a short one and some stuttering. After a long while, her waiting had ended. A door at a very far end of the large room had shut and shut fast and hard. A young man wearing white jeans, a white 80's jacket with white peds and retro mirror sunglasses was pacing toward her. He soon reached the checkered table and pulled out a chair. As he touched it, it changed into a luxurious antique chair. It seemed to her like magic, but she shook herself from staring and thought it could be her imaginig things. The man spoke in a deep and yet gentle voice. "Did I alarm you?" He pointed at the chair and showed no emotion. She need not to look at him, as she could only see his perfect nose and his perfectly curved lips. She shook her head, but inside she was shaking with fear. Her hair slowly fell from being tucked behind her hair pin. As she picked the pin from her hair, the man put his hand on hers. "Leave it." He said this with kindness and a smile, not upset or annoyed. Her hand trembled as he took away his hands. They were warm and soft, but not damp with nervousness and not dry from work. He started to speak after a couple of minutes it seemed which could have been seconds. "I see that-" He stopped, adusting his shades, "you have had a share of broken hearts?" He pulled a strand of hair that stuck to her shoulder. She almost looked like she would cry, but pulled herself together and looked at him. She tried so hard to see through his glasses, but she couldn't even make out the least bit of detail. He smiled, with one side of his mouth curling. She stared and shivered. "Anywho..." She looked puzzled and she looked at him seriosuly for a moment. "No wait-" She yanked her bag up ot her lap and grabbed and rustled through it. "This." She held a small plasric lotion tube before him. Only grasped in her fingertips, the lotion bottle looked as though it could float from her hands. He smiled and rested his elbows on the table. "Cinnamon buns." He read aloud the print on the bottle. "You gave this to me," She stared more intensly at her mirror reflection. "I found this on my dresser one morning. It had to have been from you." His face hadn't changed. It was still the same amused manly look plastered on his face. "You are god, are you not?" He laughed under his breathe, and adjusted his shades once more. "Surely," He placed his fingers on the rims of his glasses. "you must know who I really am." Her face went from serious to frightened. Almsot as though she had seen a ghost, she drew her body back into the hard plastic chair. "I am not god." He said like he himslef was amazed from what she said. "I am..." His glasses slid from his face ever so slowly. "The boy you dream about in your sleep." Now his face was naked, the glasses held in his hands. His eyes glimmered from the large lights in the ceiling, a pale, almsot white teal stared into her mixed eyes. "Wha...t...?" He smiled again, and took her hands in his. "Do you recognize me?" A cold sweat devoured her body, she trembled and shook herself rapidly, standing up with no leg movement. "No..." He frowned, and stood as well, still clutching her unsteady hands. "Oh-", "NO!" She tried to fling herself from him, but he refused to let go. "If you want to have a scent all man ever wanted, than you shall have it." A noise came from her, and a drop fell from her face, now looking at the floor. "If you feel ugly, I shall make you beautiful." She looked at him and she didn't know quite who he was. His black shaggy hair fell in his face, and still his eyes glimmered. "Has anyone ever told you," He walked around the table to face her closely. "That you're beautiful when you cry?" She broke out into tears and stood there in sorrow. "You-You're not-no-not re-real..." She looked at him now, and cried harder, tears gushing from her eyes. "I am very real." He touched her face. "I'm real," And kissed her. "to the touch."