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The stoop was cloaked in gloom. From its depths, a smoldering cigarette ember flickered like a firefly. The front of the house faced the street, where during the day cars would whiz by, but now there was nothing to see but a moonlit tree. Its shadow stretched across the yard, reaching to the end of the driveway where a mailbox and a scarecrow stood sentinel over the road. The fields were still. The wind chimes on the porch hung silent. The entire world seemed lifeless. Lifeless, that was, except for the scarecrow, swaying on its post...

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Sophia was already in trouble when she said: "Are you really going to park here?"

It wasn't the first snide comment to leave her lips. All night, she had been needling him. All night, there had been flippant remarks and nagging questions. At home: Why was the reservation for so late? Was he really going to wear that shirt? In the car: Don't play that song, put on something else. He should have made a left, this way took longer. At the restaurant: The music was boring. The room was hot. The food was bland.

Zedd had been patient. Yes, the reservation was for an evening seating, and yes, he wore the shirt, it was a polo, it was fine. Their dinner had been perfectly acceptable, yet Sophia had found something to complain about every step of the way. Now, it was late. He was tired, and more than a little frustrated about how the evening had gone. They had finally made it home, and just as they pulled up to the house Sophia decided to lay one more straw on the back of a very weary camel.

"Are you really going to park here?"

Zedd turned to explain that yes, he was going to park here, they were in front of the house so what the hell did it matter, when he saw a thin white ribbon tied in Sophia's hair, and suddenly everything changed.

Had she been wearing it this whole time? No, that was impossible. He had been looking at her the entire evening and it hadn't been there. And it wasn't something he would have easily missed. Though small in size, the ribbon was massive in its implications. It was a sign that they were no longer their everyday selves, that they had assumed new roles in their relationship. For him, the ribbon was a symbol of power, and permission. For her, trust, and surrender.

And now there it was, staring at him innocently from atop her head, asking what he was going to do about it.

She must have put it on in the bathroom, Zedd thought. Or maybe as they were getting in the car. It didn't really matter; all that mattered was that it was there. It explained everything: the snide comments, the rolling eyes, the inexhaustible brat that had nipped at his heels for the past three hours. She had pushed him as hard as she could, and now she was letting him off the leash, just to see what would happen.

It was obvious what would happen: she was going to be punished. The question was...how?

Then, without thinking, he knew.

"No," he sighed. "I guess not. But I need to move something from the boot of the car, can you help me?" It was an odd request, one that should have set off alarm bells, but the defeat in his voice threw Sophia off guard, and when he got out of the car, she followed.

They made their way to the trunk. He popped it open. It was empty, save for a small bag they sometimes brought while camping.

Sophia exclaimed, "Wow. Do you really need help moving this?" No response. It was only when she glanced up and saw the look in his eye that red flags began to wave, but by then it was too late. He wrapped his arms around her, wrestled her into the boot, and slammed it closed.

There came a muffled cry: "Hey! Let me out, you prick!" It was cut off as the engine roared to life and the car pulled away from the curb.

It was the middle of the night. The moon shone down on an empty road. Zedd cracked his windows and drove slowly, savoring the wind whistling across his face. It was a warm night. The air felt good on his cheeks. Eventually he pulled over and killed the engine. The wind disappeared, and the world fell quiet. Gravel crunched underfoot as Zedd stepped out and walked to trunk. It opened. Sophia looked up at him, mouth agape.

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