We agreed to sign the papers. No more trying to heal us. Fixed on our poker faces and met at his house. By nightfall, we were wrapped in each other’s arms.
“Sir, please,” the Prey begged
At the Hunter’s feet.
“I’m still in pain from our last encounter.”
And yet Eros
Nocked another arrow.
Eros is the Greek god of Love. He’s also known as Cupid in Roman mythology.
Already he knows her sweetness and loving care; later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake.Dracula, Bram Stoker
She possessed a smile that could pierce light into the deepest parts of a man’s soul. A light he’d swear to worship for all his days until he discovered it false. But, by then, it was usually too late.
Sweet pomegranate lips
Promised love on a platter
Words dipped in poison
There was the flap of wings and then a thud on the bench beside him. “It’s been a while,” a voice said.
Viz shrugged. “Only a few centuries, brother.”
“Because you do your job poorly,” his brother snapped. “Speaking of which, where is your ward?”
He gestured towards the woman he’d been staring at. She was sitting at a ragged park table, crying. “There.”
His brother scoffed. “At least it’s alive this time. Do you know how annoying it was to wait—what was it again—a few centuries for it to reincarnate?”
A man approach his ward. She wiped her face and stood, mumbling an apology. The man embraced her. “It’s all right,” Viz heard him say. His ward went rigid. Then, sobbed on the man’s shoulder.
His brother groaned. “Well, that’s finally done.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Picture by: Jodi McKinney