The dreamer is always the perfect victim

She stared out her window, pathetic, limp, like an old ragdoll in her plastic house—immobile. Her eyes were fixed, her gaze did not unglue from the sun of her thoughts. A small smile absently tugged at her lips…but he would never know, now would he. His face, down below her window, was already sketched into her mind. He had soft, pale skin, a face chiseled to near-perfection—any flaw on it just accenting his elegance. Dark eyes she longed to sink into, but so forbidding. She could hardly hold his gaze for more than a few seconds before averting her gaze and blushing. Though she’d only seen him around every now and then, he was the heart of her mind, the center of her thoughts.

She sighed into her palm, still gazing at him through her window. He wouldn’t look in her direction…he was still facing away. He was just passing her house, passing her dollhouse. Maybe, just this once, he’d be the prince in her fairytale. The dark prince of her dreams. The sole image of being her passerby would shatter, and he’d look in her direction and…smile at her. In the very least.

His head turned, and she knew before it happened that he would look straight at her. And he did. In one surreal second, his eyes locked onto hers without a second glance. She could feel chills running down her spin—she loved it. This time, this one time, she did not look away. She could almost feel it—almost feel what she’d been fantasizing about. She felt like she was sinking into his deep, beautiful eyes. Her heart fluttered happily and her gaze did not avert. But he did not smile as she had always imagined he would. His perfect lips curved upward in a seducing manner, urging her to come out. He needn’t say more—she knew she had to go down and see him. Despite the fact that it was well past twilight…her heart fluttered. She felt like she was watching herself float out the door, walking on a cloud.

She stopped feet before him, a smile printed on her face that she couldn’t wipe off. His own smile grew a little, before he turned and started walking away in one smooth motion. He didn’t even have to say anything. She knew he wanted her to follow. So she did, the shadow of a shadow. They didn’t speak. She wanted to hear the silky voice she’d heard only once before. She wanted to be close enough to smell him, wanted him to touch her. But he gave her none of those luxuries, and didn’t dare touch him yet. She just followed him.

She followed him until street signs were gone, and there was not a house in sight. It was just like her dreams—her prince would lead her away from everything, lead her away with him. It just all felt so right—she was the star of the perfect fairytale.

She was in a daze as trees came into view. His hand clasped hers tenderly, as he led her on, led her on through the mist of the beautiful unknown. And the most beautiful thing was, there were no dubious thoughts to ruin this long-waited scene.

When he finally let go, she looked around. The vague silhouettes of trees surrounded her, and a whole moon sat high in the sky. Moonlight draped over his face, making his pale skin glow brighter, making his whole body glow brighter. All she could see was him. His broadening smile, his shadowy eyes, looking at her so tenderly. She felt his hand, a cold refreshing touch against her cheek. Oh, how she’d longed for his touch on her face. Again she felt his touch, this time on her waist as he pulled her closer. His lips just mere centimeters away. She closed her eyes, inhaling his scent. It was so surreal, so perfect. His eyes stared intensely into hers.

Next, her faraway thoughts whispered, will come the kiss. The kiss she’d been waiting for. The blessing, the gift, the sweetness, the bliss. She shuddered happily, and then blushed, seeing him smile with an amused glint in his eyes. And then his lips were on hers. She could have sunk away into the oblivion of bliss she felt.

His lips caressed hers softly, his hand on the back of her neck, pressing her against him. He kissed her deeply, her heart melting away as her skin heated up. She sighed against his lips—she could feel him smile against her own. His lips traveled down her jawline as a low moan escaped her. Down his lips traveled, down to her neck. She had her eyes closed still, enjoying his touch against her skin. Her neck automatically rolled to the side to give him more access, and hardly felt the prick. She just felt his lips on her skin and his arms around her. She brushed her fingers against his cheek, and he gave her an unreadable glance. One filled with tenderness, lust and…something else. She’d fallen in too much of a daze and chose to stop thinking. His touch finally overpowered her and she could feel all thoughts subsiding.

She could have died right then and there.

She could have died right then and there.

Slowly, slowly, with her life drained away into his lips, her heart was beating slower and slower.

He finally let her go once her skin went cold; her body dropped to the ground with a soft thud. He smiled, wiping the blood from his lips. If his heart was beating, he knew it would be loud with satisfaction. She was the perfect victim.