Someone buries their face in my hair and I automatically assume its that guy, freaking out and burying my face in a pillow before mumbling, "Get away from me."
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
Relaxing, I freeze when I feel something slice into my back. My face goes pale and I glance back to see a dagger in it, "J-Jae..." I cry, "Get m-my clothes a-a..." I can't finish, swallowing.
All you need is faith, trust, and a little bit of pixie-dust!
'They are afraid of nothing,' I grumbled, watching their approach through the window. 'Together, they would brave Satan and all his legions.' — Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights