Demon saved by The Devil I Cassandra Dimitrescu

Difference Between Reality and Fantasy

Liliana paced back and forth in the bathroom, her steps carrying the weight of conflicted emotions. She knew she shouldn't give in to the growing obsession that had taken hold of her, the fascination that seemed to intensify with every passing day. But despite her best efforts, she couldn't shake off the constant thoughts and fantasies about Zână Pădurii, the alluring witch who had captured her heart and mind.

With a heavy sigh, Liliana tried to divert her attention by focusing on her surroundings. The room was dimly lit, candles casting flickering shadows on the walls and plants. She glanced at the mirror in front of the tub, her own reflection looking back at her with a mix of uncertainty and longing.

"I can't keep doing this," she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair in frustration. 

Yet, even as she spoke those words, the image of Zână's captivating eyes and enchanting smile flashed before her mind's eye. It was a losing battle, and she knew it. The memory of every smile, every casual touch, was etched into her mind with painstaking detail. She found herself replaying their interactions like a cherished film reel, analyzing every nuance of Zână's expressions, every inflection in her voice. Each stolen glance, each fleeting moment of connection, was a treasure that Liliana hoarded in the depths of her heart.

In the quiet hours of the night, Liliana's fantasies took on a life of their own. Her mind wove intricate scenarios, vivid scenes in which she and Zână were closer than mere friends. These fantasies were an escape, a way for Liliana to experience a closeness she feared might never be real. In her mind's eye, she could feel Zână's touch, taste the sweetness of her lips, and revel in the intimacy that remained painfully out of reach.

Eventually, Liliana's restlessness won over her attempts at self-control. She needed to get out of there, away from the haunting thoughts that seemed to trap her within these walls. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped into the corridor, her footsteps echoing softly against the wooden floor. As she walked, Liliana's mind continued to drift back to Zână. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards the witch, a force she had never experienced before. It was as if her very existence was entwined with Zână's, a notion that both terrified and exhilarated her.

Lost in her reverie, Liliana didn't notice that her feet had led her to the kitchen. She pushed the door open without thinking, her gaze immediately drawn to the sight that greeted her.

There, in the midst of the kitchen, stood Zână Pădurii. The witch's back was turned to Liliana, her bare skin illuminated by the soft glow of the cooking fire. She wore nothing but a sheer crimson see-thru shirt with wide neckline that left little to the imagination, and short pants that matched shirt's color.

Liliana's heart raced in her chest, and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. She had stumbled upon a sight she had only dared to imagine in her most secret thoughts, as if the witch wasn't walking around in this type of clothing on daily basis, espessialy in the last week. Zână's silhouette danced against the warm light, her movements graceful and deliberate as she attended to the pots and pans on the stove.

For a moment, Liliana considered retreating, fleeing from the scene that was unraveling before her. But the magnetic pull was stronger than her willpower. She found herself rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed on Zână's form as if under a spell. As if sensing her presence, Zână turned slightly, her eyes locking onto Liliana's. Liliana felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her veins as their eyes met. There was a knowing glint in Pădurii's gaze, a subtle acknowledgment of the desire that had been growing between them.

"Enjoying the view?" Zână's voice was a low, melodious hum that seemed to vibrate through the air.

She was in the good mood, which was quite a surprise.