Home at the Top of the Stairs

A small slit between thick evergreens exposed brighter flowers—my only clue that someone lived there. I climbed carved steps, through the eternal scent of lavender and roses, to her secluded haven. The setting sun had bestowed its last soft, shimmering rays by the time I reached the door. I turned, to look back at the view. Does she really need to be alone? Or, does she just not want to share these moments?