A/N: For anyone who might be confused, this story is two parts simultaneously. Italics indicate one dialogue, the normal text another.


The tribal woman sings to him softly of broken promises and false hopes, crooning in that smooth tone that would be jazz back home. She winds her way around the fire, her eyes never leaving his.

"I'm sorry," she starts, eyes averted.

He watches her come closer and closer, her body tight and firm, young and free. He can see the lust in her face, but that does nothing for him, absolutely nothing.

He can see her glance behind him, looking for someone he can't see.

She's next to him, now, green eyes glowing with fire outside and in.

She's looking for someone else, he realizes, and his heart shatters.

Her lips brush his, hot from the flames, and he freezes.

"I'm in love with John," she whispers to the ground.

And he gives in, not caring anymore.