Ripples And Hills
P.M.I CharlotteContemporaryFast-Paced PlotFirst-Person POVHeir/HeirnessHidden IdentityVictimBetrayalRevengeWeak to Strong
He draws me close, one hand spreading warm and firm at my waist.
“What are we dancing to?” I ask, tilting my face up at him.
“To the sound of raindrops,” he murmurs, and starts to move us in slow, deliberate steps. One, two, three. One, two, three. I follow easily.
The world fades until it’s just us, the rain, and his voice, low and warm, as he hums Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head. I can’t help smiling. The moment is soft. Magical. Playful. And I don’t want it to end.
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