His dagger held to my neck, mine to his. Hatred pumped through us both, but such lust ran through me as well. I looked into his deep emerald pools known as his eyes. He looked into mine. My eyes never left his, his never left mine.

The point of his dagger poked at my skin where my jaw line met my neck. My own dagger I held sideways, preparing to slit his neck if I had to. My fingers began to turn white the tighter I held my dagger. The sun was setting; I could see the reflection of it in his eyes.

His once warm breath began to get cold, he was scared…I could feel it. But as was I. Neither of us dared to speak. But he dared to kiss me. His free hand moved to the back of my head and he pulled my face towards his. His pointer finger swept across my pointy ear. I clutched my dagger harder and grabbed his clock with my other hand. He closed his eyes, frightening me. How was I to tell if he would hurt me if we did not make eye contact? But my mind slipped away from me the moment our lips met.

He lowered his dagger and I lowered mine. Our daggers hit the ground at the same time, whisking up a cloud of dirt. Hatred and passion pumped through us both between the kiss we shared. He’d killed my mother…he’d killed the only person I’d ever known. And, in return, I’d killed his lover…she’d gotten in my way. I don’t recall how long the kiss lasted. But all I know is that something sharp pierced the tight skin on my shoulder…and everything went dark.

I woke in a cabin, a blurry figure standing over me.

“Thank the Gods, you’re awake.” The voice…I’d never heard it before. At the words, I closed my eyes. No, wait, I had heard the voice before. My eyes shot open. Things were still blurry.

“You…” That was all I could say before I began to cough.

“Here, drink this.” The blurry figure handed me a green cup. I closed my eyes; everything was extremely blurry to me. I sniffed whatever was in the cup and pushed it away.

“I don’t want it, thank you.” The figure took my hand and put the cup back in it.

“I wasn’t asking you to drink it, I was telling you.” I forced my eyes open, this time they showed me the face. Long dark brown hair was brushed in front of his emerald green pools. He looked a bit pale, bags under his eyes.

“Why did you kiss me?” I just held the cup in my hand; I didn’t trust what was in it. It smelled horrid, so it likely tasted that way too. He was silent, no answer. “I asked you a smile question and it can be answered just as simply.” I was impatient. He was silent for a moment or two, but finally he spoke.

“It could be, but I would rather it not be. And I would also rather not give a response.” He took the cup from the hand. Good, I don’t have to drink it, I thought to myself. “If you will not drink this willingly…I shall force you.”

I could not believe my ears. Was that a threat?! “Go ahead…I’d like to see you try.” I spoke too soon. He took a sip of the nasty concoction and, with it still in his mouth, pressed his lips to mine. I felt his tongue slip between my lips; I opened my mouth as if he was commanding me to. I felt the nasty stuff slip through my mouth, but it was too late to push it back into his or spit it out. I swallowed it. He laid me down gently, I spit at him, my saliva landing next to his left eye. He casually wiped it away.

“You’ll thank me later, you’ll see.” He moved to his feet and turned his back to me. That was the most I fully remember of that day. The rest was a complete blur to me.