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.