𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇

𝟎𝟒. 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟒𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟔𝟔𝟔

The fire roared, open flames lapping at the pitch-black sky. You sat on the mossy forest floor and watched the others dance sluggishly around you.

The berries made you dizzy, contorting your view of the bonfire. More than once, you caught yourself giggling at nothing, watching visions of animals and smoky figures dancing through the white flames.

"(Y/N)!" someone called. You blinked slowly and looked up to see Isaac skipping toward you. His floppy straw-colored hair bounced as he moved and he smiled hopefully while offering you his hand. "Dance with me!"

Isaac was usually soft-spoken and charming. The berries brought out a different side of him. You've spoken with the other girls in town with whom you have formed a sisterhood. None of the young men in Union had truly caught your fancy, but you wouldn't mind if Isaac asked for your hand in marriage one day.

You could never refuse a boy as sweet as him, under the influence of the berries or not. His pupils were blown and you're sure yours were too. You were only acutely aware that one of your chemise sleeves was slipping down your shoulder.

Your hair was undone, curling around your face and tickling the back of your neck. Your bare feet kicked up clouds of sand and dirt as Isaac led you around the fire with a hand firmly on your waist and the other joined with yours.

Isaac laughed in your ear, though it sounded miles and miles away. You made it twice around the fire, spinning and bouncing on the tips of your toes in beat with the music.

Was there music? 

It sounded as if someone had brought a flute. But that too sounded distant, like an echo of a whisper.

In the corner of your eye, you caught Hannah and Sarah watching you dance with Isaac. They were both smiling in that knowing way that always made you flustered. Sarah wiggled her eyebrows at you and your cheeks flushed, but then you noticed that their fingers were loosely intertwined between them and parroted the gesture in return.

It didn't occur to you to feel underdressed, although you were. Underdressed that is. Maybe it was the blanket of darkness that made you feel completely covered. Maybe it was only the light of day that made people feel truly naked, no matter what they were wearing.

At one point you had to gather your skirts in one hand to avoid tripping. Isaac leaned closer against you. He smelled of cinnamon and apple spices. He whispered something—about the moonlight and how it made your hair look heavenly—but you barely caught it. Smiling absentmindedly, you twirled out of his arms and immediately found yourself in another, more demanding grasp.

"Come to the woods with me," a foul voice growled into your ear. You whined and try to shake off the stranger's hands, but they don't budge. 

"Entertain yourself with someone else," you mutter. He doesn't listen, and you sober yourself up enough to realize that it's Caleb Abery.

You always held a certain level of disdain for the Abery boy. He could drink and lay about all day long and still receive curtseys and nods of respect from the men and women of Union. But when Thomas did it, they called him mad. A drunk. Irresponsible. 

At least Thomas knew the meaning of the word no. 

Sarah told you stories nights ago about how he wouldn't leave her be until she was standing in the pigsty with a hatchet held high above her head. It took a threat to his life to consider leaving her alone. You wondered what it would take this time.