bewitched

I stared at the little faerie sitting in the midst of my orchids. Her pale veins like ivy, while the blush of her cheeks merely a shadow of the flowers’ violet hue.
She stroked the petals gently, whispering sweet nothings to the plants to help them become more luminous. Her wings beat carefully to rid the delicate petals of their excess pollen.
I turned a page of my novel, pretending not to be watching. I saw the faerie glimpse in my direction. She fluttered over curiously, then proceeded to trace her finger down my face.
Poison pulsated from her caress.