Prompt: Write a love story with a grove of trees as the setting.
Response: In the Night
Zane spotted Amelia as she entered the clearing. He offered her a coy smile though he kept up his conversation with one of the dark carnival performers flawlessly.
As she came closer, she recognized the performer. He was a fire juggler and chronic gambler named Boose. Amelia hated him even more than most of the dark carnival performers - he was shifty and usually smelled of whatever he had eaten that day.
She joined them with a disarming smile. Zane turned to her, tucking her under his arm. "Amelia. We were just talking about you."
Amelia snuggled against him. They looked just like the happy couple they were supposed to be. "Really?" she asked.
Boose's heavily-lidded eyes traced the contours of her face before trailing down the edge of her neck.
Amelia resisted pulling her wrap closer as Boose spoke, his eyes still wandering. "This is a lovely party. So kind of you to invite the dark carnival."
"I am glad they could come."
He smirked. "I am sure you are."
Boose turned on his heel and walked away from them. Neither Zane or Amelia spoke. They had nothing to say to each other.
After an acceptable time Amelia left Zane to his motley friends. She walked through the dark performers, avoiding them wherever possible. The bell players in the trees seemed to be watching her, she could feel their gazes.
The bell players saw everything, she knew that they knew much more than they would ever say. Amelia smiled. Cutting out a person's tongue was as good a way as any to keep them silent. They would never reveal her secret.
Out of sight of the players, Amelia walked more quickly. There were no lights in the trees, but the waxing moon allowed her to see well enough.
She entered the hidden grove of trees silently. The moonlight illuminated the trees and cast their heavy shadows to the ground. She stood beneath the sky and let her wrap slowly slither to the ground.
"You look so lovely, Amelia."
She did not turn but a smile graced her lips. She felt him behind her as he pulled her into his arms and his breath brushed her bare shoulder.
"Really?" she asked.
"The most beautiful."
Amelia did not try to look at him. It had been a condition since the beginning - he would blindfold her before she was allowed to turn around. She had never seen his face.
He used her wrap to bind her eyes. She became blind, but she felt everything so much sharper in his presence, smelled everything so much more strongly.
He called himself Owl - a creature of the night. And he knew the night. He was the night and Amelia loved the feeling of being blindly swallowed up in the night.
Notes: I told you I was going to expand "The Perfect Night". I was having trouble coming up with a direction for this prompt so I decided to write a little more.