She smiled, clutching the little envelope to her chest. Sighing contently, Dorothy gazed lovingly at the softly pink piece of paper.
Another romantic letter from her lover.
She read the poem again, admiring the pleasantly masculine penmanship of the writer. Oh how she wanted to meet this lovely male specimen...
He seemed so kind, so gentlemanly, so perfect. 'Almost like a man made in heaven', she thought, giggling. He had been sending her these letters for about a month, each one more sweeter than the last. At first she had thought it was some prank pulled on her by someone --- Jack or Snow maybe --- but the letter that came after proved otherwise.
'He knew', she thought dreamily. 'He knew about my suspicions and brushed them away.' Her admirer had assured her that his love was no prank, so that only left one thing, he was someone she already knew.
After that, she had taken to sizing up each and every one of her male companions to deduce which one was her lovely Prince Charming. Alviss? Unlikely. Nanashi? That pervert couldn't be sweet if his life depended on it. Ginta? Unfortunately, as she hated to admit it, Ginta wasn't the kind of guy to pull this off. Alan? Jack? At these two, she involuntarily shuddered. Can't be.
Growling slightly, she tugged at one of her braids. 'Oh my dear prince, will you ever reveal yourself to me?'
"Dorothy," said a voice behind her. A male voice.
"My prince!" she cried, spinning around. She was about to throw her arms around her said "prince", only to freeze in shock. Composing herself, she greeted the man.
"Nanashi. What are you doing here?"
He put on one of his crooked grins, and laughed. "Taking a walk, Dorothy-chan. Would you like to join me?"
Giving a disgusted scoff, she pushed past him, tucking her love letter into her pocket. "With you? Not a chance," she responded, making her way down the path.
He watched her as she disappeared out of view and out of earshot. Smiling slightly, he took out a piece of pale pink stationary from his pocket.
"Too bad, Dorothy," he said, clicking on a pen. "You would've enjoyed it." And he began to write.