England 1832
The soft rain poured down onto the dirt road. Carriages and passing people seemed to be unphased by the patterned weather that happened more often in the cold days of Spring. A local tavern resided in the small corner of the dirt streets. It wasn't very big, maybe three-hundred and fifty square feet. The business was run by an immigrant from France, and the tavern was always filled with French pastries made by the man's wife.
Inside the small pub, a kitchenette rested in the corner behind the bar. A few wooden tables here and there with some stools lying around. Jean-Marc Torento, the owner, lived upstairs of the small place. His devotion for the tavern was almost sickening, but yet people respected his amount of care for the worn out bar on the outskirts of town.
The rain now was nothing more than a slight drop here and then. Clouds still loomed overhead; the air still cold and damp. The small business was quite busy this Saturday night. With the sound of mean laughing as their glass mugs clinked together to celebrate the long days of work. Pastries were being served every few hours, always one waiting for the next batch. But, in the dark corner of the room, a regular, sat in his usual table. His regular whiskey was served in the handmade glass; his demeanor brooding and cold. Towards the bar, a young woman sat down, playing an old drinking game with a couple of men. Her hair was a light cherry brown, curls cascading down her back. Her skin was pale but had slight hints of pink in her cheeks. She had a white dress on, a taupe corset tied tight around her waist, and slightly heeled black boots.
The young woman caught the man's attention; him getting lost in her red eyes. It was peculiar, indeed it was, but he still was lost in her beauty. A slight pang began in his chest as his palms were getting clammy by the mere thought of her. He felt many emotions: fear, anger, sadness, and love.
The woman drunk her sixth beer, she had a mischievous smile; for lack of better word, perfect; and her eyes scanned the room. The young man locked eyes with her. From the look in her eyes, he could scan her emotions; fear, anger, sadness, and then Love.
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Make Me Truly Yours
Fantasy---/-/) For years, supernaturals and humans have been happily together, living in a harmony. Until the rise of hunters. Mates, have only made things more complicated for the humans and supernaturals. Harper-Jean Fellows; Free spirited, kind-hearted...
