1. Horror
    
I shivered as I heard the howl coming closer.
    
"Make it quick, Elliot. Tell me whatever it was you wanted to tell me." I pretended to act like I wasn't scared, but the truth was, I really, really, wanted Elliot to scoop me up in his arms and carry me off into some fairytale sunset. So, what if I was in love with my childhood best friend and currently, almost fellow werewolf meal?
    
So it's not ideal to fantasize about the handsome guy in front of you when some creepy half-wolf thing was about to eat you, but I really couldn't help it. Elliot looked regal standing with one foot on a boulder, dagger in hand, a fierce and determined expression painted on his perfect face.
    
"Elliot?" I asked. "You going to tell me?" In an instant, I broke his barrier, and he slumped down against the wall. He looked down.
    
"Since we're about to die, Jen, can I tell you something really deep and serious?" He shifted, looking uncomfortable. Who wouldn't when there was a werewolf coming to eat us?
    
"Yeah. What is it?" I came to sit down next to him. He scooted a little closer, and we huddled together for a moment while the werewolf howled again, this time even closer.
    
He looked me in the eyes, his brown eyes shimmering a little.
    
"I love you." He whispered. "I fell in love with you when you tripped over that half-decomposed zombie in a ditch when we were eleven and I caught you. I can't let you die without you knowing that." He looked down nervously. My heart seemed to stop beating.
    
I swear even the wolf stopped moving and howling for a moment. Was this real?
    
"I love you too. I started to fall in love with you when you said, 'My name's El-El, oh darn, I forgot it again' when we were seven. I can't let you die without knowing that I love you too."
    
Elliot leaned forward. "Then let me show you how much I love you."
    
I was the one who closed the gap between us. We were still kissing even as the wolf came into the cave. The last thing I saw before the wolf bit into my arm was Elliot's warm brown eyes sparkling into mine. Then I closed them for the last time, collapsing into his arms.

2. Reality
    
Adrian looked out at the ocean. I dangled my feet in the water next to him.
    
"So. What was it Lorraine said you wanted to tell me? Was it a confession of love, perhaps?" I teased, flicking some water at him, pretending not to hope that it was. His face went beet red.
    
"I—" He looked away quickly. I splashed him again.
    
"Oh?" I didn't pay much attention to his reaction. He blushed over everything.
    
Today, however, his blush didn't recede. It only deepened, turning his handsome face a beautiful shade of scarlet. "Spit it out, Adrian." I snapped, sounding perhaps a bit harsher than I meant to. He blushed harder.
    
"Actually, Em, I did want to say something along those lines." His redness reached his ears. It really clashed with his red hair. I tried not to snicker as I attempted to pay attention this time. He ducked his head down for a moment, before he leaned close to me and pulled me to him. My jaw dropped.
    
He bent down and kissed me softly. I returned it without giving it any more thought, wishing it would never end. When we broke apart, the blush had eased.
    
"That. Was. The-Best-Confession-of-Love-That-I-Could-Have-Ever-Hoped-For." I blurted, trying to catch my breath. Adrian grinned, and kissed me again, just as tenderly.
     
Let's just say, if anyone asked what the best thing that has ever happened to me is, I would 100% say when Adrian confessed his love for me—in the form of the sweetest kiss I've ever received. Ever.

3. Fantasy

    
"They train us like dogs, Lydia. They reward us if we maul each other, and torture us if we show mercy. I don't—I can't—do it anymore, but it's the only thing I've ever been taught."

He ran his hand through his hair. He turned to look at me. "What do I do?"

"I—Honestly, Quint? I have no idea. What I do know though, is that you can't give up. You have to keep trying to resist them."

He reached over and pulled his hand through my hair. I shivered as his fingernails touched the back of my neck. I grew sort of drowsy as we lay there, watching the sunset. Finally, when I just about to drift off, he leaned over, the grass softly rustling under him.

"You're right, Lydia. I won't give up." He paused a moment before his blue eyes shone into mine. "I'm sorry." He whispered, his voice cracking.

"Wha—?" I started to ask.

His lips hit mine before I could finish that simple four-lettered word. For a split second, I couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Finally, I registered his hands on the back of my neck and in my hair, his body pressed against mine, his lips on mine, his eyes on mine. The kiss ended as quickly as it started, though it was longer than I could have ever hoped for. He scrambled up, one hand in his hair again—his nervous habit—looking embarrassed, and maybe even a little scared.

"I-I'm sorry." He repeated, before running into the woods. I stood up, reaching after him.

"Quint! Wait! Where are you going? What just happened? Quint!" I was nowhere near as fast as him, so I had no hope of catching up to him. My entire body was still trembling where ever he had touched me. My fairytale prince just kissed me.

Okay, so he's literally the Crown Prince of Anesthalia. So, what? He just kissed me.

Okay, so he's a feral, beastly soldier in his evil stepmother's army. So, what? He kissed me.

Okay, so he's probably still on the queen's side, and he was probably tricking me. So, what? He. Kissed. Me.