She sees him from her window. He is a beautiful creature, a thing that will forever remain incomparable.

Her fingers trace a path against the condensed glass, engraving a pattern that he shall not be privy to. It occupies her mind with fantasies of escaping her evaporated cage, or roaming illicit halls with her clandestine lover. It is he who she looks down upon and intoxicates her mind with.

This pastime entertains her voyeuristic tendencies. She knows she will not by privy to his flesh, nor to his skin that radiates such warmth towards her cage. It remains encased in swathes of fabric, and the touch of another wandering hand.

He will forever remain next-door, trapped in a lover's gaze.