still thinking about them... the accidental witch and Ghost...
thinking about how you never knew there were bad miracles, never experienced the monkey's paw curling to answer your plea, never considered that good and bad could be the same gift.
you have long since stopped believing in magic and soulmates but even you cannot deny that the man following you is super natural.
there's no other way to describe the way he haunts your life. he is around every corner, doorway, thought, that you come across. he is there with a smile and blood in his teeth. he is-
he is.
like an inevitability, you were always meant to find him. or rather, him find you.
and it's that thought that traces you back to your childhood, to scrawling handwriting and crayon that melted into the earth instead of burning. you wish that man had found you instead, the man that would fall in love at first sight and protect you from monsters.
monsters like him.
monsters that seem entirely too comfortable reading your mind when they corner you in the pub bathroom, his eyes dark and promising, his smile so wicked it makes you press your thighs together.
"so I'm the dragon," he coos, tipping your chin to lick a hot tongue over your lips, you sputter and spit as he laughs, "so what? princes don't fuck the wicked witch, do they?"