Original Syn. Beth Kander

not the princess; she’s the huntsman and the wicked queen and the hero and everything other than a damsel in distress. But still, if this is a fairytale, what sort of story would it be if she didn’t kiss the handsome stranger she met in the woods?

      “Let me make it up to you,” she says.

      She moves her lips onto his ear, gently biting it, and she instantly feels him tighten. She brings her hand from his chest up his neck, to his cheek, moving slowly across his nose and brow. His sweat dampens her finger, and without thinking she places her finger in her mouth and tastes it—warm, salty, real.

      He swallows, hard. “What do you want.”

      “I want,” she says simply.

      The boy is right there with her now. He shifts his weight forward, just a little, and suddenly their bodies are touching. She can’t quite tell, but she thinks he might be trembling ever so slightly. He is certainly waiting, wanting consent, terrified of doing the wrong thing. She nods, inviting, encouraging.

      His mouth finds hers, and the spark of their first soft kiss makes them both open their eyes, staring in wonder for a moment before slowly lowering their lids and leaning in for a longer, softer second kiss.