Re: In the woods, near a path
This Little Bo was no sheep. Victimhood could be someone else's to tend, and she'd gladly hand over her shepherdess staff and ringlet curls. She was better suited to tuffets and scaring away crawly things. She knew the world was filled with wolves, but she wouldn't be tricked by big teeth and big eyes, and if she walked into a wide open maw it would be deliberately. That's what came of being confident. Her own mind supplied the rules to this game, and she was fearless. It was a dangerous thing to be, but she only saw the power and felt no fear of the Kryptonite. She wasn't dying for anyone. She sure wasn't dying for a stupid boy who killed himself unnecessarily. This Juliet would've laid out the plan in advance, and she would've explained Romeo's role until he could spit it back at her between kisses. This Juliet would've lived.
"Endangered species are meant to be protected. I don't need preserving," and she smiled white pearls and unsullied sin. If he put her on a shelf, she could climb down and walk all over his prone body. Everyone looked more beautiful as they walked away, and her backside was no joke. Squeeze her throat, Romeo, go ahead and try. She would make you want her alive, not dead, and there was something illogical about breaking your toys.
He didn't need to be handsome. Wasn't that how the cookie crumbled? Crumbs all over her lips, and the world said he could be scarred and rough and still attractive. She had to conform to a perfect cookie cutter self, and tonight there wasn't a bit of her dough that felt like it was wrong. She was baked into that pink dress. The only scars she had were the ones that made her interesting and oh-baby was she ever scarred. Just because his fingers couldn't feel her wounds didn't mean they weren't there.
"What does it matter to you who he is?" she asked of the boyfriend that might have easily come in a bottle. Why would a girl with a boyfriend need liquid dazzler? Romeo, Romeo, art thou jealous, Romeo? "Are you the type that thinks a rose smells sweeter if it belongs to someone else's garden?" His reluctance was tangible in the undoing of his touch. He curled his empty hands to grasp absence, and being reached for was Wallflower's wicked vice.
She peeped at him from behind a thick trunk of tree, close enough to see his bared teeth and her fingers gaining splinters. "So you like to play..." Juliet echoed. Who was playing? Who was the prey? She thought he was certain; Romeo certainly thought he'd chased Juliet around a crowded room while she wore wings he wanted to tear off in his hands. When she peered out again it was from behind another tree, behind him this time. "Romeo, Romeo..." Gone again, and this time to his left. "Wherefore art thou, Romeo?"