His Forbidden Muse
Luna Sadsthe forbiddenforbidden loveforbidden romancea murderous muse
She says as if I don't already know.
I fight the urge to touch it. It's shorter now, barely brushing my shoulders, soft waves replacing the once lifeless strands. For years, I kept it long because people told me I should. That it was pretty and feminine. That I was prettier that way.
But this? This is mine.
"Yeah," I keep my voice light. "Figured it was time for a change."
And because I'm feeling bold, because I'm high off the rush of it all, I lean in just enough to whisper. "Turns out pretty girls don't need to cry over bad haircuts."