The businessman told the girl that his name was irrelevant, but that her name was of the greatest importance. It wouldn't matter if she made one up or not, it would only serve as the definition of his ideal form of love. "Syrill", she said her name was. One simple word. A name. But to the man it sounded like a sudden coming of spring in the middle of a cold winter. Forgetting what he wanted to do, forgetting all the sex he had in mind, forgetting all the sex he never had, he fell to his knees and started crying. Sodding with tears. The girl didn't know where to look at, let alone what to do. Eventually she sat down and tried to comfort him. "I could come up with a different name if you..." The man started wailing. Syrill decided to stay quiet and lit a cigarette.
Two yellow eyes were looking in through the window, trying to make sense of everything they saw. The small creature didn't know and decided that it wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was the girl. His girl. With a grin on his somewhat deformed face he climbed down the wall and sneaked his way through the lobby into the hall. The creature was patient. Hiding behind a trashbin, he kept a close watch on the door he knew the girl was behind.