Sitting on a sofa near a fireplace, in a cabin in the middle of a wood, the girl reads a book. The soft hum of the wind flows around her cabin, lulling her off into a sleep whilst she tries to keep her eyes open to read one more page, one more chapter. A tabby cat sleeps on the arm of the sofa next to her, drinking in the warmth of the room. A gust of wind rattles the shutters, jolting the girl awake. She smiles, stroking one hand down the cat's soft body.
Standing up, the girl yawns, stretching her arms, ready to head off to bed, when at knock at the door makes her jump out of her skin.
No, not a knock, a banging on the front door. Desperate and hurried, begging to be let in.
The girl is fully awake now. She swipes a dagger from the table-top next to the sofa, slowly walking toward the cabin's front door.
Carefully, she pries the door open, to be met with a man, huddled on the porch. A gasp escapes her lips when their eyes meet and she drops the dagger.
Her enemy sits before her, pain and agony and sorrow written on his beautiful, tear-stricken face. The man who tried to kill her, who wanted her dead, who she wanted dead, lays before her, breaking down.
Her eyes move from his agonized face to the blood coating his arm, his tattered shirt, his bare feet.
"I-" he chokes, a sob stopping his words. Something inside the girl breaks as she bends down, holding him up from his shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice that of a broken man. His eyes don't leave hers. "I didn't have anywhere else to go. Everyone is gone." Another gasp escapes her.
"What happened?" she chokes, staring into his eyes.
"The queen. She slaughtered the village. Everyone is dead." Her heart stops. Her family was there. And so was his. "She wanted me, but I escaped the guards. I didn't know where else to go. I'm sorry."
Something inside the girl snaps. She wanted to kill the queen. She wanted to rip her apart. She wanted to make her feel the pain she feels now, watching the man break before her. He was her enemy. Not the queen's, not anyone else's. He was hers, and she was his.
The girl's arms wrap around the man, the boy, before her, holding him tight as he sobs into her shoulder, wetting her clothes. She doesn't care. She wants his pain to stop. So she holds him, and doesn't let go.
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