Nocturne Novels & Stories

I grabbed the nearest notebook frantically. The patterns weren’t astronomical. They were harmonic. A coded resonance structure. Music. Seraphine looked upward with tears already filling her eyes. “Oh.” Void turned toward her immediately. “You recognize this.” She nodded shakily. “It was his favorite song.” The melody flooding the city deepened. Warm. Steady. Carrying impossible tenderness through the night air. People across the rooftops fell silent listening. Children stopped running. Lantern flowers leaned toward the sky like living things hearing home.

The club pulsed with low music, velvet drapes swallowing the city’s chaos behind the soundproofed walls. This wasn’t one of Massimo’s public venues, no, this was something more private, more indulgent. Only a select few knew about Nocturne, the dark heart of his empire, nestled above the rooftops of Rome, where night fell thick and slow like honey, and tonight, it belonged to them.

Nocté adored lying under the water, feeling with the whole her body the invisible tentacles of hot rising streams. Now she really wanted to break through the bottom of the spring, take the newt to the volcano and bade farewell. She didn't hear how a strong wave crept up from the behind. It drenched her from head to toe and then, embracing the dead body, carried it away. Nocté held out her hand, but it was too late. The newt disappeared in the dark mouth of a silently swam up moster whose body merged with water.

He couldn't bear the thought of his struggles dimming her prospects. The soft knock on the door echoed through the stillness of the night, shattering Arc's reverie. The moon cast an eerie glow through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Crickets provided a soothing background hum, a lullaby to the sleepy town of Thorne. The scent of fresh cut grass wafted through the air, a reminder of the peaceful afternoon.

Maybe there’s no difference. At half past midnight, I open my laptop and place an order. Noise machine. Custom frequency settings. Uploadable tracks. I select the file myself: a collection of classical pieces she mentioned once—Debussy, Chopin, Satie—quiet, human things with edges soft enough to touch. Add: silk eye mask. Color: black. Gift note: For the hours that won’t behave. Delivery: 6 a.m. sharp. When I finish, I lean back and stare at the confirmation screen.

Something became apparent in Nocturne’s crotch and he realised that he had what humans called a boner. “You’re hard,” Leo observed out loud in between breaths. “Has that ever happened before?” “No. This is the first time.” “I find that flattering,” his boyfriend told him and gestured for him to come closer. “I’ll give you some help with it.” *** “I have to go now,” Nocturne noted a little while later with disappointment. “It’s one in the morning, I need to see the list of deaths for today and start delegating the collections out.”

They danced in her favorite classical music, Nocturne op.9 No.2, it was a song she recommended when they talked to the person who will handle their reception. The man asked what kind of music do they want the orchestra would be playing. She specifically to play Nocturne op.9 No.2 for their dance. She said the song will put her in ease despite the eyes of many people watches her every step. It was very dear to her to dance in that song. It was the song both her father and she loved.

After