little creature do it? This was the question that ran through your mind for what seemed like seconds though it must have been nearly ten minutes. That was, after all, when her eyes opened and your thoughts were silenced. Camilla had an odd power over you, a power that made your spine tingle and your eyes lower as if she was better than you, as if you were her subject and she the almighty queen. Her game was never ending, like all young girls want, but she wasn't so young and you could see that in those eyes. She knew more than her body made it seem. When her forest orbs fell upon you in a dazed way-making the leaves of those trees wilt slightly into a golden brown colour as light brushed through the cracked window- it was a sign, a warning of how close the moment was coming. Instantly your body rises, the suitcase at your side, and she is in your arms seconds later. That light head, those soft brown curls against your flesh, lays on your shoulder as the cabin door is opened and your now heavy and nervous footsteps walk down the narrow isle.

Those bloody footsteps! Oh how they were out for the pair and how they dared fight to spill the secrets hidden in the forest orbs that were looking all about. Each pounding step rang in your ears, splitting your skull and letting your throbbing brain split your skin until the very hairs on your head started to shake, even those small peach fuzz kind that you can barely feel let alone see. One, two, five, eight, thirteen. There, thirteen, that bloody number that got you to the door. You knew it was thirteen because you had walk this path eight times since the train started moving, making sure you could do this and each time you wanted to lock the girl in that cabin and leave her there to starve and die. The very fact that she was with you made goosebumps the least of your worries and, in fact, it made your blood turn to ice yet boil intertwined in a way that blistered your heart. She seemed to realize your thoughts and put that tiny hand on your cheek, directing your face to look into the trees that shone in her eyes, capturing your attention completely.

She had very small, plump little lips like a porcelain doll. Perfect plump little masterpieces that curved in that gentle way that made grown men think of things they shouldn't about those little girls. Things that made them look for that quality in grown women and most out grew that darling trait. Those soft little lips brushed against yours, she not seeming to care your age nor your gender-if she even noticed a difference in either- and that was enough to stop your scares thoughts. She captured you, Camilla the great trickster! You now belonged to her yet again and, when you decided to misbehave, she would capture you with that soft kiss once more. You were powerless against it don't you see? Powerless.