"Interesting." Given in a tone that could make you speculate if he actually was interested. He is still here, his gray eyes moving slowly along the length of her neck as they graze over her flowers. It’s sign enough that he must be. Interested, that is. As the gnats buzz in the distance, he seems to take her name and the way he says it back to her causes something primal within her to stir. Enough to make her gaze turn molten, only for a moment as he holds her stare, before returning to a dark tarnished hue once more.
Perhaps it’s because she had still loved her father even after the horrible thing he had done to her mother, inevitable erupting their small family unit. Or maybe it’s because she had watched her mother and the sisters of the jungle tie up her father with their vines and witnessed his punishment (torture) first hand. The more likely scenario though was that she had seen what her father had taken from her mother and realized that she could never be broken that way if there was nothing take. Or if she gave certain parts of herself willingly in exchange of keeping the most fragile parts of her safe.
So her smile seems to only solidify briefly, coy and shy, as he takes her name. Given to him freely. And takes his in return. “Tunnel” he rumbles like a rickety train and there is something else hidden in the meaning of his words that gives her pause on what the other things might be. Before she can explore those things, he is calling her “Little Unicorn” again and a delicious shiver spasms along her spine as her pulse quickens with a thrilled rush.
She had been raised to be brave, raised to withstand men and other monsters in a world not kind to someone of her gender. You could take the girl from the Amazons but you could never take what had been learned in the jungle out of the girl. There was something predatory about him and still... She is not afraid. “Tunnel.” She says, her voice still soft and innocent, wrapping herself in his name with the same sweetness that matches the color of her eyes. It is her turn to hold his ashen stare, a whisper of a smile now dancing along the corner of her lips as she remembers something.
There was always a light at the end of every tunnel.
“I come from a fallen jungle. I live in a forest now.” She is purposely vague and she doesn’t take her eyes off him in case it stirs some sort of reaction. Lingering once more on the exceptional amount of hardened clay that sticks to his figure. “You?” An innocent question but her eyes seem to sharpen as she watches him. And waits.
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Bardot
![[Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/T37nJTF6/BQjeje-Bardot2.png)