This scene is inspired by a photo posted as part of a Chuck Wendig flash fiction challenge,
The morning mist was like a passageway into a fairytale, except Dawneva wasn’t a princess, not even close. The massive trees that lined Locke’s street guided her through the light fog. The scene was magical, surreal, and helped to blur the lines between fantasy and reality.
As she parked and let herself in the back door she felt more like a villain. She slipped her shoes off at the door, then hesitated in his family’s kitchen only long enough to pull off her coat and carefully set down her purse and keys without a disturbance. Down the hall to the bedroom he shared with Rita, she knew she’d find him asleep and alone. He was still and quiet under the sheets, golden curls framing his gorgeous face.
He doesn’t know just how beautiful he is, she considered. Boyish, naive, almost innocent, yet breaking all the rules of love by wanting to be with her. She knew this was wrong. She would never want to put a family in danger, but she loved being loved by this man, her rescuer, her knight. So she put her trust in his arguments that others would never find out.
She let her clothes drop to the foot of the bed and carefully slid next to him. Beauty would awaken her prince.