He wasn't really sure what he was doing. At first, he was looking through his deck, running his hands over the texture of his cards, memorizing every combination his deck could ever have, every strategy, every strength, every weakness. He'd done it hundreds of times. However, this night, he found himself lingering in front of her room –or rather, the room he had provided her. The eighth duelist.

There was no way in hell that he would believe her stupid fairytale about pharaohs and priests. An ancient Egyptian doppelganger? What a joke. Regardless, the Egyptian god cards were useful, very much so. Maybe that was why he was staring at the cold metallic door, willing himself to either knock or walk away.

Standing there idly wasn't like him. He was a direct person. He was certain, calculating. Everything he did was for a reason. It would be very like him to scoff and walk away. He almost did, but then again, he almost proceeded to bang on her door and demand to speak to her. However, he did neither.

What would he tell her if he knocked and she opened the door? We have already established that he was completely uninterested in his so called "Destiny" and even less so in her alleged prophetic abilities. He doubted that she knew any more than him about the Egyptian god cards. Now that he had gotten that out of the way, he asked himself once more why he was wasting time like this.

Was it for her crystalline blue eyes? Or perhaps it was for her poise and dignity. Maybe he fancied how her skin was the perfect shade of tan and how her hair flowed like silk down her back. It couldn't possibly have been because of her high cheekbones or her rose petal lips, her long neck or her prominent collarbones.

He felt himself shudder and shake the ideas away. He did not just think that.

Well, of course he found her attractive. It was only natural. She wasn't attractive in the traditional sense like Mai, nor did she have the girlish charm that girls like Serenity or Téa had. She was attractive in the refined sense. He found himself smirking as he thought this.

He definitely needed to get some more sleep –and perhaps hope that his dreams weren't filled with her.

Her long legs walking confidently towards him. The white fabric of her dress flowing around her, teasing him. Her hands reaching out towards him. Her perfect, aquamarine eyes staring straight into his own. Her moist lips whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

He finally willed his legs to move. Anyone who had happened by him as he strolled would think he had passed by her room on a whim. Nobody would realize how completely sinfully he thought of her. He had a reputation to keep up, of course. He wouldn't admit it to himself either. He couldn't afford a distraction like her. Though, it wouldn't hurt to pay her quick visits like this and hope that on his way back, her eyes weren't following his retreating back curiously.