"because this isn't twilight, you cream-faced loon"
he chuckles
she hates the word chuckle
but the noise he makes is not quite a laugh
it's too husky for that
"is that shakespeare?"
she's ashamed to admit that she gapes, awestruck
"well, i'll be damned, isaac
perhaps you aren't a cream-faced loon"
he smiles, a wickedly handsome thing
"where are you going now, adeline?"
she picks at the limp edges of her sleeves behind her back
"the mall, perhaps"
he leans over her, hand above her head
he's staking a claim
she doesn't know whether she wants to stop him or if it's only what she's come to expect of herself
"need a ride?"
YOU ARE READING
into the woods (on hold)
Short Story*on hold until further notice* she took off her shoes and walked into the woods she felt lost and found with every step she took and she explored things she never would have dared to before
