WARNING: This story will not be completed. The only reason it is still posted is because I took a strong liking to the prologue. Lust is heavily combined with the scent of pine needles and fresh unearthed dirt, drawn beneath fingernails that are dragged across the bare skin of his back. It was a dream she had dreamed a thousands, though maybe if it remained that way, Clarise wouldn't be having an existential crisis. She'd never have been confused about love, wondered what those pills felt like once they rewired your system, and impulsively shut everyone out. There was something about the boy in the woods, like the way he knew his way around the forest and the own secrets he would keep.