From atop a rock, I watched as Peter gathered twigs and dried leaves, creating a small pile out of them. Once it stood a few inches off the ground, he whisked out his lighter and held the flame next to it. It caught fire instantly.

"Looks like you're a better cowboy than I thought." I glanced up at him with a smile.

His laugh made my grin grow wider. It wasn't grating or high-pitched like laughs were. Nor was it low and raspy like others. "What's that supposed to mean?" He looked over his shoulder at me. I could see the stars above reflecting in his eyes, making them twinkle.

"I never took a city boy to know how to start a fire." I leaned forward on the rock, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Yeah, well, that's probably the only thing I can do. I'm not much of an outdoorsman." Peter shrugged, taking a seat beside me. "If this were actually the wilderness, I would be dead by now."

"What do you like to do then?" I looked at him, studying each angle and curve of his face. The glow from the fire cast a radiant hue against his fair skin, turning it golden instead of its usual ash wood color. I could make out the faint outline of his cheekbones right above the shadow of stubble around his jaw. The longer I stared, the harder it was to look away.

His gaze shifted up towards the night sky. "Do you know anything about constellations?"

I finally forced my eyes off of him as he turned. "No."

"Here, let's start off easy." He pointed to a pair of stars. "See those? Now, right across from them are another pair. The star on the furthest left, follow it upwards and you'll see a line of stars. That forms the handle of the Big Dipper."

I must have been missing something because I could not see anything. No Big Dipper. No handle. Nothing. There were no shapes up there, only bright balls of gas. "I don't see anything."

"Follow my fingers." He must have caught a glimpse of my squinted eyes since he outlined the shape of a pan with his fingers. "Do you see it now?"

I shook my head. "No. They're nothing but stars in the sky."

He lowered his hand. "True. But they also form shapes like animals and gods."

"How?" I glanced up at him, drawn back to his face. His eyes were filled with softness, turning his brown eyes almost amber.

"I don't know how. Something in our brain lets us see those patterns," he whispered. "I think it's always been that way. Even before civilization, people would look up at the stars and see all sorts of things. We've always tried to make sense of things; see things that weren't really there."

This made me pause for a brief moment. "So they're not real?"

"No." I almost missed his answer from how low his voice dropped. He said nothing more after that, letting the crackling of the fire fill the otherwise silent night. I watched as a flurry of sparks burst into the air before falling back to the earth. It was all I could do.

The rustling of Peter's coat broke the silence as he suddenly turned to me—his face only inches from mine. "Do you know anything about the outside world?"

"No," I answered back. "What is the outside world?"

His eyes went wide as he began to explain, gesturing his hands in the air wildly. "It's nothing like here. There are giant steel buildings that reach several stories high. There are these things called cars that people can drive. They're sort of like wagons, but horses don't pull them. They move on their own. And we have boats that can travel through the water, and planes that can fly through the air. Can you imagine that?"

I could not. "No, it's hard to. How could something other than a bird fly? Or a fish swim?"

A smile graced his lips, but this one was different from his other smiles. Only one half of his mouth curved up while the other remained a firm line. "I feel like a time traveler," he chuckled. "You're supposed to be so much smarter than me, but here I am explaining everything to you. Like a child."

I blinked. I was not a child. But before I could remind him of that, he pressed his hand against my cheek.

"Your skin feels so real. So soft. And yet, it's so cold." He ran his thumb down towards my lips. "Like metal."

When he brought his mouth to mine, I did not know what to do. I could only remain still as he moved his lips over mine, tugging at them with his teeth. His eyes were closed, yet he knew what he was doing. It seemed natural for him.

Moving on top of me, he slid his hands from my neck and over onto my shoulders. His movements grew more frantic as he slipped off my coat, tossing it aside before beginning to unbutton my shirt. I waited for a command, but no command was coming to me. I couldn't say stop. I couldn't say no. I couldn't say anything. The only thing I could do was listen to the twigs snapping and cracking as they burned. In my confusion, I remained frozen. I allowed him to do what he wanted, whatever it was, and did not resist.

He sighed into the crook of my neck. "You're so beautiful."

I could hear him unbuckling his belt, yet I still didn't recognize what was going on or what he wanted. Even when his fingers started fumbling with my belt. Even when he finally got it loose and stuck his hand into my pants.

With a quick tug, my pants were pulled down my legs. His lips immediately released mine as looked down with a gasp. Jerking his hand back, he pushed himself off me.

"What..." Peter's jaw hung open as he stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his pulled down pants. His eyes had gone wide behind his glasses, and his eyebrows nearly touched his hairline.

I glanced down to see what had made him react like that, but there was nothing between my legs. The skin was smooth and even.

I started to ask what was wrong when the trampling sound of horses' hooves interrupted me. We both turned and saw a group of townsfolk on horseback came sprinting towards us.

"Get away from her!" A woman shouted as she hopped off her horse. "You disgusting piece of shit!"

"Dominique!" Peter raised his hands out in front of him as she ran towards him. "It isn't what it looks like—" He didn't get to finish before he was shoved back into the dirt.

"What the hell, Peter!" She stood over him, preventing him from getting back up. "I've been looking all over for you! I had the guards going crazy trying to find you! I had them looking everywhere! Checking every camera, thinking you might have gotten lost or hurt! So can you imagine how humiliated I was when I saw you and her riding off into the sunset?"

His eyes were filled with a clear liquid that threatened to spill over at any moment. "Dominique, I'm sorry—" He tried to stand up, only to be pushed down again.

"No! You're not! You knew there was a gala tonight and you deliberately missed it!" She snapped her head towards me and pointed. "And for what? To fuck her?"

"Alright, mija. That's enough." An old man stepped forward from the group of men in black. "You've made your point. Let's just all go—"

Dominique turned towards him, her nostrils flaring. "Stay out of this, dad. This is between me and Peter." She spun back around, balling her fists. "How the hell could you, Peter?" Her voice was softer now, a complete difference from how it was seconds ago. "You knew how I felt about this. You knew! I warned you about it!"

"Dominique, just listen to me." Peter finally stood up and brushed himself off. "I'm sorry. I swear, I won't do it again."

She let out a high-pitched cackle. "Of course you won't!" Her eyes shifted over to me, who was still lying on the rock. "I only wish I could have seen your reaction when you pulled her pants down. When you realized she wasn't made to be a sex doll!"

Peter slapped a hand over his face, letting out a deep sigh.

"You must've felt pretty stupid, huh? Almost as stupid as you do right now." Dominique's hand reached inside her coat pocket, pulling out a pocketknife.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" Peter raised his hand up, beginning to retreat.

"Mija! Stop!" The old man cried, lurching forward.

But Dominique wasn't going for Peter. She was coming for me. Grabbing a fistful of my hair, she lifted my head up and slashed the blade down the side of my face.

Everyone, including the men in black, gasped. I could see something hanging down the side of my face over my right eye. I raised my hand up to touch it, but when I did, my fingers squished against it. Some of the men in front of me cringed as I tried putting it back in place multiple times. But it wouldn't stick. It just kept drooping over.

"Let's see if you want to fuck her now," Dominique spat before taking out her revolver and shooting me in the head.