Rising Sun Valley Dear Fellow Traveller

“Kismet,” came a hush with a shy smile. Her response to him was disturbing, but she wanted to explore it. She was anything she desired to be, beholden to none and emboldened by the enclosing fold of darkness, concealing truths that existed far from their pool of shadow. She’d decide then to shape herself into some idealized variation, lifting her chin so it might sweep over strands of fur along his blue shoulder.

Was this the girl Louis would like? Bold and agreeable, with eyes that sought for him and did not dissuade his own. A girl that, beyond this tunnel of dirt, would not exist. That mattered not in this moment. She hungered for this affection, a decent sense paled in comparison.

“Louis,” she spoke his name, as if persuading him to buy into her make-believe, “I’m glad it’s you. There are many rogues on the trail. Few so amenable.”

Least not herself. But Louis did not need to know it.