IT WAS ALREADY SUNSET WHEN I exited the library and returned the books. The orange tinge of sun over-casting the skies reflected beautifully against the window pane of the hallway. The students were already in their dorms, and the hallway was deserted, but my instincts brought me to the music room.

It was empty, but I realized Dominic was either in our room or elsewhere. So I decided to sit in front of the piano, turning the pages of the music sheet he or the other Classical geniuses composed. When I finally chose my song, I placed my fingers above the keys and began putting the rhythm and melody in the air, closing my eyes as I did so.

The music was called Nocturne in F sharp minor, Op. 48, played by the classic pianist Frèdèric Chopin. My fingers moved key by key, and my chest rose in sudden excitement; I hadn't played piano for the past few days, and putting the music to life felt pleasant.

My memories came rushing into my mind. Several years ago, this nocturne was the piece that I heard while staring at the actors in the amphitheater near the foster care; they all looked the same, covered with thick white makeup around their faces with a roaring red lipstick—I remember those two women on the stage, the first one is the lady wearing a black bonnet and gray gown, iridescent through the sunlight, holding her white fan while frequently pushing her wide brown curls up; I recognized her role as the aristocrat. While the other lady was petite, wearing a dark brown rug-dress, too ugly for a lady to wear. And a black shoe, emphasized by her short dress; she's the plebeian in the play.

People kept laughing when the Aristocrat lady would say funny words against the pitiable woman, applauding their hands when the lines satisfied their enthusiasm. At first, I wanted to defend the poor girl because she looked so vulnerable against the wealthy duchess. But I later realized that they were only performing an act; instead, I felt fascinated.

It was always noon when I decided to sneak outside the foster care to watch the portable circus in our town. The name was Cirque de Rien, meaning "Circus of none". I even wondered why they chose to name their circus that way—I often drag Billy with me; he's the foster child I'm closest with then. And I remember his hesitation when I took him with me.

"Sister Veronica might catch us!" he said with his thick Dutch accent.

"No, she won't; she's busy nurturing the sheep," I said triumphantly, referring to the sick foster child's name, Agatha. She has asthma, and nuns require full attention for her care.

He kept silent when he knew that he had no other options. The circus men are quite inconsistent because after they perform their publicity stunt, they set up the stage for their mini-theatre, and every time I came, they always changed the wooden title above the board of their unusual vehicle.

I watch above the trees, to surpass the huge amount of townsfolk watching the Cirque, and I dreamily watch the actors on the theatre stage, hoping that I would get to know them more than I could watch them.

My memories were pushed aside when I was already halfway through the song and sensed Dominic's presence at the door of the music room; I dropped my hands reluctantly and turned my head—his riveting stare made my chest rise from intimacy, and I half-consciously put my hair behind my ears. "I just missed playing the piano, am I doing it right now this time?"

"There are still slight inaccuracies, but you're improving now," he said, kissing my cheeks and sitting beside me.

"I made friends with Alex today, and he's nicer than I thought," I started, pressing the keys to divide my attention, "But we only have one class together." That makes me wonder, "Are you attending classes?"

"It's a long story. How about you tell me what happened to your rehearsal?" Dominic asked softly while fixing the red necktie on my uniform.

"It didn't turn out nicely as I had expected,"

"Go on."

"Because my partner did something that's not even in the script, and I didn't prepare for that and it's too embarrassing doing it in front of the other students, that's why Mrs. Hopkins scolded me for ruining the scene that she anticipated,"

"What did your partner do?"

"He asked me to kiss him. And I'm too disconcerted because I haven't kissed someone on the lips before; I might be comfortable if I did it first with someone that I know,"

"You can practice with me."

My whole body froze, and I stared at Dominic; his dark gray eyes looked dangerously serious and seductive. But my heartbeat suddenly felt heavy, and my air-breathing tensed, "Are you sure about that?"

"I always meant my words."

It felt obdurate kissing Dominic, especially if he's my friend. But it's harder to practice with Reid, knowing that he's someone that I barely know as much.

"You should close your eyes first," I spoke unsteadily to Dominic.

His lips turned into a fascinated sneer, and he fluttered his dark eyelashes closed.

I suddenly doubted my decision—but after a couple of minutes of rational thinking—I reluctantly leaned closer, holding the side of his head and managing to brush his raven hair. It felt soft against my hands, and his breath felt steady against my skin; he looked captivatingly handsome and perilous. And I'm going to kiss this man.

My eyes stared longer at his lips before I managed to touch them gently. His lips felt sweet and tempting, but I withdrew the kiss.

"Why did you stop?" he asked.

"Am I allowed to feel your tongue?"

"You may do everything that you want, Mary Jane." He said with an amused, deep voice, like a kitten that catches his mouse.

I looked at his lips again, and his eyes remained closed. My fingers brushed his soft raven hair, and I leaned closer; my breath felt ragged from the sudden excitement, and I touched his lips; he guided me this time. And the hair on my neck stood up when his tongue flickered on my upper lip; I didn't know what that meant till I opened my mouth, and his tongue slid in.

It felt good. And Dominic's body drew closer to mine, holding it firmly against his broad chest. His body felt hot and melting, and electricity shot down my spine when our tongues met—it's strange, touching someone else's tongue using yours. But it felt riveting and pleasant.

It tasted sweet and captivating; his tongue managed to slide down harder against my tongue, and my insides melted from the exotic feeling; Dominic seemed possessive while kissing me, and my insides quivered when his teeth grazed on mine, and he found the soft spot of my tongue.

He was the first one to break the kiss. My eyes locked on his dark gray ones, holding my body tightly against his own to support me—I rested my head on his vibrating chest. I was clouded with the unexplainable sensation, closing my eyes before speaking unsteadily.

"Dominic?"

"Yes, Mary Jane?"

"Please teach me everything."