Dave sighed. He longed to go to Lucrezia, to comfort her, to caress her, but he could not, and so he remained outside, just below her window, watching and listening. He thought of her silky auburn hair and dancing gray eyes. His mouth filled with the bittersweet taste of longing. The first flush of dawn chased him away, but before he left, he thrust a note beneath her window sash.
I have watched from the shadows;
you are brighter than sunlight.
It might have been more poetic than literal, but he meant it truly; hers was a warmth that would not burn him to ash – though it did seem to have seared its way into his heart.