A/N: I do not own the characters in No Rest for the Wicked. I only get to twist and turn the characters into my own stories or poems. I only own the ideas I come up with.
He likes boots.
He calls dead mice and dead birds his friends.
He is a wise man.
Well, he's not quite a man.
And he is my dirty secret.
She likes The World.
She calls a madwoman and a woman with silver hands her friends.
She is a tender girl.
Well, she's not quite a girl.
And she is my dirty secret.
I am surprised he hasn't noticed.
All I can do is watch him.
He really hasn't noticed?
I am surprised she hasn't noticed.
All I can do is watch her.
She has not noticed.
I watch him when he is asleep.
His nose twitches like a cat's.
He sleeps in a tree.
I follow her when she is awake.
Her eyes dart around like a curious child.
She walks on the trail.
I told him my story.
My boring story.
I told her my story.
My mundane story.
I think he is handsome.
With his dark fur and yellow eyes.
I think she is beautiful.
With her purple spotted pale skin and chocolate brown eyes.
I know I shouldn't feel this way about him.
He is a different species.
I know I shouldn't feel this way about her.
She is a princess.
My dirty secret is…
My dirty secret is…
I love Master Perrault.
I love November.