Member-only story
Winter-Kissed
Never tempt a sugar plum fairy.
The snow falls like glitter in the air, and she’s a vision as she twirls with her arms held aloft. Her dress is pale pink gossamer while her lips are dark maroon with a dusting of sugar. If she were to kiss you with that pretty mouth, she’d taste of vanilla treats and peppermint promises. No man or woman would be able to resist the lure of her sweet concoction self while she dances in a slow circle in the fairy garden where sleep gives birth to dreams.
Every movement — the twitch of her fingers, the soft tap of her small shoes against the crunch of ice and snow, the parting of her lips to reveal a breath of fog — is a calculated piece of the puzzle. You know you shouldn’t watch, but you draw close as if she is the warmth of a fire in this landscape that might one day be caught eternal in a snow globe. She is priceless and pert and precious, like a treasure you wouldn’t share if you first had the chance to hide it away and protect it for all of time.
Oh, she could drive you mad if you let her too close.
But, oh, it would be so sweet and magical just to see those plum-soft lips curve in a spell of contentment.
Even her wings, transparent except for thin branching veins of violet, flap softly as she continues to step through her dance. She has no eyes for you or anyone…
