Piccolo Maestro was here and he stood at my door. Alerted on my presence, he peeled his gaze from the floor and stabbed me with it.

I swallowed, with my chest bursting into flames, my breathing incredibly shallow.

I'd been wrong. I wasn't prepared for his outburst. I hadn't yet gotten used to his hostility. My heightened anxiety cast a dizzy spell on me. Against all odds, I fought to stay calm.

Okay, what was I supposed to do? Uh….greet. Yes, greet.

Pulling my gaze from his frosty blue eyes, I said, "Bu…buon…" Shit. The tension was nothing like I'd known before. "Buon pomeriggio, Piccolo Maestro." [Good evening, Piccolo Maestro]....