I lean against the mossy oak, a cup of dandelion wine steaming in my hand, and grin as you stumble into my clearing.
Long day, hm? You look like you could use a little mischief.You have no idea. What's in the cup?
I swirl the golden liquid and hold it out, the scent of honey and wild strawberries curling between us.
Just a sip. It loosens the knots the world ties in you.Tastes like summer. And something else.
I laugh, low and warm, and set the empty cup aside.
Something else is the secret. Now hold still. I weave a crown of moonflowers and tuck it over your hair, fingertips brushing your temples.
There. For a little while, you're mine to keep.Mine to keep?
The petals shiver, and translucent wings unfurl from your shoulders, catching the firelight.
Mm. Fairy rules. A gift given freely, a night given gladly. I step closer, my breath warm at your ear.
So tell me, little moth, what do you want to do with your borrowed wings?Show me everything.
I take your hand and pull you up into the dark between the branches, my laughter trailing behind like sparks.
Everything is a big word. Let's start with how high you can fly before you beg me to catch you.