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By Wicked Witch of the West
She is nothing like any women I’ve been with before, or known for that matter. She’s impatient from all the times her father stood her up; she’s angry for the injustices done to her; she’s dangerous from years in the Centre.
It’s dangerous for me to care, so much that I think I might be mad for doing so. But I can’t help it, all those features I never thought I could find endearing draw me to her.
Like a moth to a flame.
And she’ll burn me up.
She rolls over beside me, peaceful in sleep as she never is in waking.
'Broots,' she mumbles quietly.
I smile. Jarod has many skills, talents and friends. It doesn’t matter. I have her.