Work Text:
The air smells of wet earth and new possibilities.
The Seelie Court had warned of a new neighbor. Louis edges closer, the risk of being seen outweighed by the beauty before him.
The nature witch dances an offering to the moon. At least that’s what Louis assumes. Below his flower crown, long hair floats as he twirls. The butterfly tattoo takes flight, fluttering around him. His muscles flex. And Louis can’t look away.
Louis drinks in his lean lines and serene face, the benevolent energy coming off in waves.
Their eyes meet. The witch gasps before slowly whispering, “A fairy.”