Melissa felt stiff and tense. It was as if her whole body had gone into some sort of survival mode, ready to run as fast as humanly possible in her heels. The redhead hesitantly placed her hand on his elbow, letting him guide her along. The walk outside the recital hall seemed shorter than ever. To her, it felt like too short. Some part of her wanted this part to last as long as possible; and not the romantic kind. It was like the feeling children got when they were headed to school, and forgot to do their essay. The car ride was never long enough- and this was no exception.<br/><br/>Admittedly, even Melissa was surprised when she was greeted by a limousine.<em>Not like Sir James Livingston rode here on a bicycle</em>, she scolded herself. If it weren't for the whole bizarreness of the situation, she might have even delighted in this. Whisked away in a limousine by an English noble, almost like a princess. She calmed down as the limo made its way to the destination, figuring he didn't seem like a bad person. He had taken all this trouble, and was very well mannered. After all, he could have done whatever he wanted already- even in the wings of the stage.<br/><br/>"I.. right. Sorry." she replied, feeling a little safer at his words.