Clement.
“Wha–what?” I sputtered, looking up at him. I had not seen him in years.
His eyes glowed through the dark, and he looked like a dark lion that just found his prey. “Cathy?” he questioned, and when he confirmed it was me, his tone changed. “Ah, dear Cathy, what are you doing out here at such a time?”
Clement was just as dark and alluring as usual. I had never grown accustomed to his aura of intelligence, sharp wit, and dark wisdom. He was the physical embodiment of magic, and he looked it as well.
I stood up, hoping I didn’t appear too crazy. He probably thought I had become a mad woman, sprinting through the forest with branches in my hair, in a dirty, torn ball gown, with tears reddening my eyes. Now I really contemplated if it was a dream. Clem
