The note had been tucked under the windshield wiper on the drivers side of the monstrosity he called a Jeep. Three words. My house. Tonight. A signature wasn't needed. He knew who it was from. The faint scent of lavender gave it away.
Anticipation builds as he drives the familiar route to her house. He could make that drive with his eyes closed. As he pulls to a stop outside the two story house he grips the steering wheel tightly. His fingers wrap around the cool black metal, his knuckles turning white. The roommate was gone, working the graveyard shift. They would be alone. The anticipation threatens to consume him.
He takes a deep breath, releases the hold he has on the steering wheel, and climbs out of the vehicle. A small splash of water dampens the cuff of his trousers. Puddles left over from an earlier rain shower flood the almost black street top. Dark clouds blocking out the setting sun promise another good drenching before the night is through. He had no concern for that as he makes his way to her front door.
There is another note taped to the beveled glass door. Let yourself in. Without a second thought, he pulls his keychain from his pocket. The door creaks a bit as he opens it. Once inside he notices how dark the house is. Except for the orange glow coming from the living room. He follows the glow, along with the scent of lavender. Most of the furniture had been moved back, leaving a clear view of the stone fireplace that graced the far wall. He had always thought it unusable but now found it alive with flames.