Yet in darker hours, the enemy will twist those sighs into fractured moans, the noises slick on her tongue. If the midnight hour is kind, a noble will draw sighs from a virgin’s lips. As I grew a little older, I’d also grown to believe this. Swept into fantasies under the cover of night, the differences become warnings, the sum of cautionary tales urging you to behold and beware. But it’s forbidden to desire the villain. But which choice will she make? * It’s forgivable to desire the hero. And while one longs to take her hand, the other wants to unravel her mind. In nightmares, the villain hisses in her ear, “Fight me.” While one vies for her affection, the other demands her courage. Yet on darker nights, a serpent will emerge from the depths, a reclusive monster who lurks beneath a rippling surface, his voice penetrating the marrow of her bones. If the stars come out, a knight will rescue a maiden, protect her virtue, and bow for a kiss. Submerged within the space between dreams and nightmares, the division is as clear as water.
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