Wonderland Hysteria (Self)
She'd been watching all night.
Watching the girl, invisible crown atop her head, down drink after drink with the other blonde. It only fueled her hunger, the urge causing her fingers to twitch ever so gently, intensifying as the clock wound closer and closer to midnight.
The young Italian, although having been offered drinks from numerous slightly-intoxicated suitors, was completely sober. She passed the note to the bartender, a few dollars along with it as she instructed who to give it to, batting her eyelashes in good faith. She'd given him a fake name hours ago, and he nodded, taking her sentiment to the intoxicated French girl, with a "no problem" followed by the name she'd given him muttered back at her.
The note was delivered promptly, and Fiore proceeded to fade into the crowd expertly, so as not to be pointed out when Lisette obviously asked who it was from. She smirked to herself as she recalled what she'd written.
"She used to play in the street, made friends with the summer's heat. The heart beats, like drums on concrete. Cries for mercy, as he dragged her feet a body bruised, full of fear as eyes stream the tears, her voice speaks of prayers Her ears hear...the 'music of the spheres' as she disappears down dark steep stairs. Innocence lost, locked in a cage A puppet he controls, stranded on stage. Frustrating, is loss of salvation. Suffocating in her sense of intimidation."
The Italian waited patiently, the jacket hidden in the corner now slung over her shoulders, its hood at the ready. For now, the French's own princess was nothing more than a doe, startled by the sound of leaves rustling in the middle of the woods.
And Fiore, without a doubt, was the hunter.