Moonlit Fae

nd vibrant, stood before me, defying logic. I feigned nonchalance, unsure how to process this surreal experi

d for using her phone during lectures. Her black hair cascading like silk down her back, her pale skin radiant, approached me. We shared

laced with sincerity. Wait, she remembered, My curiosity piqued, I asked, "What exactly happened?" Her expression tu

gy, that's all," I assure

ative abruptly halted at the point where I mentioned the stranger's snorin

ent, their memories seemingly truncated at the point where the teacher reprimanded the student. But this girl was different. Her recollection of events seem

d, extending her hand in a grac

l me Ivy," I replied, shaking h

asked, "Mind if I join you?" Her eyes spa

It turns out she was also a freshmen in school just a few weeks older, and over lunch, we chatted abou

esence surprisingly brought a new dynamic to our group, and despite a few clumsy moments, our time togeth

45 PM, hours earlier than my usual return. I glanced out the window, expecting to see my dad's sleek black cruiser parke

psed onto my plush bed, the softness enveloping me like a gentle hug. As I lay there, I let out a deep sigh, releasing the pent-up tension of the d

hisper in my ear. My cheeks flushed a deep crimson at the mere recollection of his chiseled features and piercing gaze

an inner fire as they bored into my very soul. My face grew hotter with each passing moment, my blush intensifying as I r

tension that crackled between us like a palpable force. The sketch pulsed with a life o

on the vibrant colors and bold strokes that seemed to pulse with life. I carefully carried my artwork to the window, wh

looded my thoughts, and I relived the intensity of Bellion's gaze, the gentle pressure of his hand on my waist,

eld a special place - on a secluded side, directly facing my bed. I wanted it to be the first thing I saw when I wok

r door, revealing a scarcity of ingredients. The shelves, usually stocked with an array of colorful vegetables and savory meats, now lay nearly bare. I mentally noted the necessity to restock our pantry when I ventured out to pur

habit than genuine curiosity: "Hey dad, how was work today?" His response was laced with concern: "It's been chaotic - a mysterious animal has been attacking people for days." My interest was piqued, and I leaned in, m

His eyes snapped up, his expression a mix of surprise and concern: "This weekend?" he repeated, his voice tinged with worry. "All by yourself?" I nodded, and he asked, his tone laced with skepticism: "Don't you have friends at school?" I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood: "Dad, I'm not exactly going to invite someone to join

e intensity. With the last plate rinsed and dried, I bid my dad a goodnight, his eyes fixed on the TV scr

ading down my skin like a gentle rain. I emerged feeling refreshed, my skin glowing wit

d, my gaze drifting to the painting that held a special place in my heart. For a few moments, I

my bed a haven of tranquility. The painting's presence was a gentle