Tell the tales of the trail of dead
Lovers learned from slower hands
Lovers learned from slower hands
Liam was nothing if not meticulous, and so it was that he had gone to great lengths to prepare for an evening with Phoebe. She was, after all, the leader of the Greatwood and a demigoddess, to boot, and despite his simple desire to build a friendship with her, he had to admit to some nerves. Had he been too forward in asking her to dinner? Was dinner too formal for friendship? Was he interested in Phoebe romantically?
What would his late wife think?
Still, once the invitation was accepted, it would have been terribly rude to back out, and so he had asked around for a nice restaurant in the Bodega, made reservations, and appeared on Phoebe's doorstep at the appointed time to escort her. He'd dressed nicely, but not too formally, and he was trying very hard to avoid running his hand through his hair nervously in an effort to avoid mussing his golden curls.
Well, no time like the present, he thought, and then knocked on the door.
What would his late wife think?
Still, once the invitation was accepted, it would have been terribly rude to back out, and so he had asked around for a nice restaurant in the Bodega, made reservations, and appeared on Phoebe's doorstep at the appointed time to escort her. He'd dressed nicely, but not too formally, and he was trying very hard to avoid running his hand through his hair nervously in an effort to avoid mussing his golden curls.
Well, no time like the present, he thought, and then knocked on the door.
Losing self in myself
And my demons make demands
And my demons make demands
Liam
