She looked at him across the room. He should have looked away but he held her eyes. There seemed to be instant connection between them. She smiled hesitantly and he smiled back. He held out her drink and mouthed ‘cheers’. She repeated the gesture. They smiled again at each other, with their glasses lifted. He walked up to her then and asked her for a dance. In each other arms, they danced to the music. He breathed in her perfume, intoxicated by its teasing mildness that drifted in and out of his senses.

It was but natural that they ended up at her place. She opened the door as he followed her into her flat, shutting the door behind him. Looking around at the cluttered room, she apologised embarrassed, ‘I am sorry.’ He pulled her close and caressed her cheek. His eyes closed as he breathed in her tantalising perfume. Moving his head closer, he touched her lips in a butterfly kiss and said softly, ‘No, I am sorry.’

A few days later the newspapers reported the body of a girl who was found murdered, fully clothed. There were no injuries except for the one clean bullet wound in her head. There had been no leads found so far. The police never noticed the missing bottle of perfume.