Vincent
Sometimes when I dream, I can still picture her in my mind.
Fiery red hair. Wild green eyes. Artistic soul. Passionate spirit.
Yasmine Butler.
Four years ago, she left for Paris and we lost touch.
It was always innocent between us.
She was eighteen and I was a few years older.
I didn’t think it’d be appropriate.
But I’d like to think I’m over her by now.
I have more money and more attention from women that I can count.
And I’m doing what I love; I’m an artist-slash-business owner.
But now she’s back.
And she’s different—not so innocent anymore.
And it seems like she wants me.
To be honest, the new her kind of scares me.
I feel like a fish out of water with some of the things she wants me to do to her…
But still, I can’t resist her.
She is my muse.
Has been all these years.
Can I learn to see beyond the ordinary?
Or are we headed toward a heartbreaking demise?