Dakota

I lighted up my candelabra, as I walk along the vast carpeted hallway, towards a russet and golden door that I don’t even know what’s behind. I can feel my lips are curling up into a devilish smirk, I can feel my hips sway flirtatiously as I walk, I can feel the hot smudge of lipstick on my lips, too.

And I realize the red gown I was wearing; the spaghetti strap is falling of off my shoulders. And I don’t care; I like to keep it that way. My head feels dizzy, like I just took a shot of some whiskey. Still, I don’t care, I just continued walking, I feel excited about that door, like there are Gold’s and diamonds inside of it, a hidden treasure. But once I opened it, I realized it was a bedroom.

A bed was on the middle of the room, a silk linen canopy hung elegantly around the posters of the bed, and a chandelier hung low at the ceiling, but it was badly lit. I nearly gasp to see a man leaning against the huge window across me. He was watching the moon, and I look up at the sky, and watch the moon as he did. “You’re here, at last.” He faced me, I couldn’t clearly see his face, for because the room was dim, the only light that shed upon us is from the moon, and from my candelabra…