Troy
Grant, Blyss, and I had been chatting away when the lights went down and everyone got quiet to watch what was about to happen on stage. Classical music began to drift through the room. It sounded ghostly, haunting me already.
Blyss put her hand on my leg, leaning into me. She whispered, “This seems surreal.”
I kissed the side of her head and wrapped my arm around her. “Yes, it does,” I agreed.
Blyss asked me often if we could come up with a scene to play out in front of the other club members. I was against it, still worried about how fragile she was, even though she kept assuring me she wasn’t as breakable as I thought she was. I wasn’t about to take any chances with her. My heart beat just for her, it seemed. She consumed me in more ways than one.
Lilacs in a crystal vase took
