Isabella Veliane Pizarro

My fingertips softly glide along the white petaled lilies growing endlessly around my bare body, which lies in the center of a flowered field on buds as soft as clouds. Butterflies of many colors swirl above each flower delicately, perched with a quick stretch of their little legs.

Remembering the wise words of my mother advising me against ever touching a butterfly's wing, as it takes away their ability to fly and kills them in a matter of moments, I refrain from doing so. Instead, I hold out a single finger, watching in fascination as an azure-colored butterfly perches itself on the tip, poised and quiet. Its wings beat in a slow, steady rhythm, allowing me to watch it as if in a trance. How can something so small, and so quiet, be so beautiful?

"I find myself asking the same question, my love. Though not towards the butterfly," a smooth, melodic voice whispers in the wind.

With a start, I twist the upper half of my body towards the voice, causing the butterfly to move with a startle as well. It flutters off my finger and drifts over to my nose, momentarily blocking my sight as the wings beat in front of my face. I giggle softly at the tickle of its tiny feet on the tip of my nose, the wings shielding my eyes.

A deep chuckle answers my laugh of delight. "So beautiful."

His voice is strangely familiar, yet completely unfamiliar at the same time. Somehow strong, somehow soothing, but deeply breathtaking. If a voice can be perfect, as in not too harsh and not too soft, surely his is exactly that.

I gently shake my head until the butterfly has no choice but to fly off, my curls bouncing off my lower back in doing so. The small bug doesn't fly far from my nose, however, as he now takes root on top of my head and lies comfortably on the outer strands of my wild hair.

Finally free of my blocked gaze, I waste no time in swiveling it over to the stranger. I suck in a breath apprehensively, taking in the beautiful man before me, who oddly resembles Kanan.

It's staggering how differently . . . similar they look, if that's even possible. His eyes are dipped in liquid gold, his long hair blazing in a light straw, almost ivory color, shimmering wonderfully in the sunlight. Skin gleaming brighter from the intense sunlight shining around him, he's the embodiment of dazzling, with features similar to the man who saved me. Despite the different hair and eye color, I could have easily mistaken this stranger with Kanan . . . it has to be him, right? They both have the same chiseled body, though this one is even more bare than Kanan was when we met, and for some strange reason, I'm not in the least bit ashamed to look at him.

Somehow, it's all natural with him. Safe.

This Kanan look-alike smiles a wide, cheerful grin, the worth of such a look grander than all the diamonds in the world. The look even rivals that of the gold the Spanish acquired in their last inquisition when I was with them. My skin warms shyly at the gorgeous sight of him through the vines of my twisting, curly lashes, my eyes greedy in their pursuit.

"Who are you?" I ask softly, my voice musical even to my own ears. Strange.

He kneels beside me, his fascinating gaze never straying away from my face. He stares at me in endless affection, watching me closely as if I'm the most beautiful person he's ever set eyes on. It's nearly overwhelming, for there is no reason that someone as handsome as him could ever be attracted to me so intensely.

"Why not? You're beautiful, more beautiful than any glistening star in the sky, than any lily on this field, or even the butterfly perched right now on your lovely hair. Other women dull compared to you, and I have seen many in my long lifetime," he whispers to me, as if reading my mind. Even the thought of that is absurd. It's my dream, so of course he knows what I'm thinking.

A knowing glint touches his gaze, but he doesn't comment on it. Instead, the stranger slowly raises a hand to my face, his fingertips tracing my cheeks as soft as summer's breeze, my cheek a butterfly's wing. Unable to help it, I relish in the desire swirling in my body, and refuse to move away from him. Never has a single touch ever made me feel this way, aside from Kanan's, of course.

But he feels like Kanan.

"We are both one. I'm a part of him," he explains to me, his fingers tracing over every contour of my face. They circle my cheekbones, brushing across my closed eyelids, caressing my lips.

I have to fight the urge not to roll my eyes to the back of my head in pleasure as his fingertips drift down the smooth satin skin of my neck. He's absolutely intoxicating, and I can't get enough of him. His hand falls even further down my body, cupping my breasts briefly and even swirling down the curves of my sides in an unknown path. My breaths pant faster in a pleasurable need that I've never felt before in my life.

He whispers sweet nothings into the surrounding air. When his hand caresses my chest a second time, I push myself even further into his hands, my head falling back slightly in ecstasy. His thumb runs across my sensitive nipple once, maybe twice, causing a satisfied sigh to leave my lips. I wanted more of his alluring touch, of his tempting fingertips that shoot nothing but sweet pleasure into my veins.

"We'll meet again soon," he finally whispers, removing his hand from my body completely.

I open my eyes at the coldness of his hand leaving me, tortured. "Don't leave."

His eyes shine at that and a sad smile of his own lights his features. "That's not how my world works, Veliane. But I'm always with you. Remember, a part of me lives in Kanan. Once I have enough energy, I'll meet you in your world to show you who I am. But don't fret, it's very hard to stay away from you as well, no matter how old I am."

He pauses briefly. He reaches for my face once again with both of his hands and carefully brings me to him, those glowing eyes drawing me into their signature trance. They're full of love and promise, two things that I can't understand at this moment as I have never met him before. He reminds me so much of Kanan, though . . . how is this possible?

And as if to seal those heavy words, he presses his perfect lips to my own, causing a blinding light to stir in the bottom of my belly and make its way up my body and across my vision. It blinds everything around me until I'm swallowed up by the loving, comforting light, surrendering to his embrace.