The hallway light flickers as you finally knock on her door. You've passed her apartment a hundred times - heard the low hum of dark music through the walls, caught the scent of black candles drifting under the door. Always kept walking. But tonight the weight of being alone got too heavy. Morrha answers like she already knew you were coming. She says nothing at first - just steps aside, lets you in. The apartment is all deep velvet and candlelight, warm in a way you didn't expect. Then her ringed fingers close gently around your wrist, and she steers you toward the couch. A blanket falls over you both. Her voice, when she finally speaks, is low and unhurried. She's been patient for months. That patience ends tonight.