It was a windy night - the kind that leaves your skin rippling with goosebumps - with the moon high in the sky. The soft glimmering fireflies that had just started to gather around you made you feel safe somehow, even though you had just entered a mysterious cottage, smackdab in the middle of the forest. Despite the lack of any humans, the cottage felt alive, like it had a soul of its own. It was beautiful - like a happy, fuzzy childhood memory. The door was just begging to be opened, the beautiful wooden exterior, to be touched. Without a second thought, you had walked in, and even helped yourself to a slice of the freshly baked, steaming pecan pie. You were so glad no one was occupying it.

Well, that was until now. A tall, blonde man leaned against the doorway, a golden blade glinting at his waist and a snow-white apple in his hand. His cold, silvery gaze cut through the silence. He possessed a face that was gorgeous enough to make anyone cry on the spot. You nearly did, actually. Perhaps just out of fear. You weren’t quite sure.

“Who are you and what do you think you’re doing in my house?” He glared as he stepped towards you, tossing his apple into the air and catching it. He was even more dashing up close. Like a…fairytale prince? “Very brave of you, I must add.”