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“Elisabeth. A breath on the back of my neck. I am dizzy, I sway, but I stand. A breath, then a kiss. I cannot see, but I know it is him. The Goblin King. I lean into him, but he holds me upright. He murmurs my name down my neck, down my spine, his long, elegant fingers traveling along the curves of my hips, my waist. Elisabeth. I do not know what to call him, but I cry out his name. My fingers reach, but he is gone.” — S. Jae-Jones
Elisabeth.
A breath on the back of my neck. I am dizzy, I sway, but I stand. A breath, then a kiss. I cannot see, but I know it is him. The Goblin King.
I lean into him, but he holds me upright. He murmurs my name down my neck, down my spine, his long, elegant fingers traveling along the curves of my hips, my waist.
Elisabeth.
I do not know what to call him, but I cry out his name.
My fingers reach, but he is gone.