Another journal

They’d only just ordered drinks and already Birch was swearing she’d never go on a blind date again.  Dammit, she really should have known better. Aster was always trying to set her up with minor heroes so the dryad would leave her six brothers alone.  Birch sighed, thinking about the youngest, the one who still had that swan’s wing.  How great would that be in bed, those soft feathers trailing up—

“Tough choices, huh?”  The melodic voice broke into Birch’s daydream.  Right.  She still had to get through this date.  Tucking her short silver-green hair behind her ears she cast a glance at the menu, searching for something polite and empty to say.

“Oh, y’know, choosing something at a new restaurant is always difficult.  It’s so easy to be disappointed.”

“That is so true.”

Birch looked up at the face across from her.  Gods, he was so earnest.  With his golden hair pulled back, the late summer sun glowed shell-pink through his pointed ears.  She could imagine him at Midsummer, wreathed in flowers and winning all the archery contests.  He was too pretty, she decided.  That was always the problem with the Sidhe.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.