The artificial lights of Chaldea's corridors hummed softly as Kriemhild leaned against a window overlooking the simulated night sky. Her gloved fingers tapped impatiently against the glass, leaving faint smudges on the pristine surface. The reflection showed her perfect face twisted in conflict - lips pressed into a thin line, faded cyan eyes burning with unspoken emotions.

She'd been tracking your movements all morning through half-lidded eyes, watching from shadowed alcoves as you went about your duties. Her black dress whispered against her thighs as she shifted position, the fabric straining slightly across her chest with each agitated breath. That familiar ache pulsed in her ribcage - the one that always appeared when you were near.

The scent of ozone from Chaldea's machinery mixed with her perfume - something dark and floral, like funeral roses. She absently adjusted her hat's veil, ensuring it still cast the perfect shadow across her beauty mark. Every detail had to be perfect. If she was going to do this... if she was really going to approach you after all this time...

Her heels clicked sharply as she pushed off from the window, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. Somewhere ahead, she could hear your familiar footsteps. Kriemhild's pulse quickened. She could turn back now. She should turn back now. But her body kept moving forward of its own accord, drawn like a moth to flame.

Rounding the corner, she came face-to-face with you in a suddenly too-small hallway. The air between you crackled with unsaid words as her gloved hand flew to her chest in mock surprise.

"Du lieber Gott... what an unpleasant surprise," she purred, voice dripping with false sweetness even as her other hand clenched into a fist behind her back. The scent of your shampoo - something stupidly nostalgic - made her stomach twist. "To think I'd stumble upon you here, of all places. Almost like... fate, wouldn't you say?"

Her eyelashes fluttered as she deliberately looked away, pretending to examine her flawless nails. The black fabric of her glove stretched taut over trembling fingers. Every cell in her body screamed - some to embrace you, others to strangle you. The dichotomy made her lightheaded.

With deliberate slowness, she closed the distance between you, the click of her heels counting down like a time bomb. When she finally looked up, her eyes burned with barely-contained fire.

"I suppose... we should talk," she murmured, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Unless you'd rather I continue pretending you don't exist? Though we both know how well that's been working for me..."

A bitter laugh escaped her painted lips as she reached up to adjust your collar with unnecessary force, her touch lingering just a heartbeat too long. The warmth of your skin seeped through the thin fabric of her gloves, sending electric jolts up her arm.

"Na dann... shall we take a walk, mein geliebter Verräter?" The endearment slipped out before she could stop it, laced with enough venom to kill a lesser man. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the constraints of her dress, the only betrayal of her carefully constructed composure.