The Midnight Butterflies

The Midnight Butterflies

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Aug 19, 2020
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Fiction
Romance
"Do you ever feel like your falling?" Mr. Nigel asked me, his square glasses sitting at the edge of his freckled nose. "No" I lied. There was no point in telling him the truth. After all, all I'll ever be is a Midnight Butterfly. Art is not mine
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"My prince," he calls again, softly. This is madness. What the hell is going on? I need to leave. I immediately stand up, stepping back from him, lowering my gaze. "Good night, Druke." But before I can turn away, he grabs my arm-firmly. His grip is too strong. I turn to look at him. His long white hair shimmers under the moonlight, making him seem almost ethereal. "My prince... I can be a woman, if that's what you want," he says. My thoughts spiral into chaos. "What do you mean, Druke? I don't understand-" "I want you to be mine. My prince, can't you see?" he says, cutting me off. "Have you gone insane, Druke?" "Yes," he answers immediately. "I am insane... about you, my prince."

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