Years later, the story of me and the witch.

Years later, I met her again on the corner of the dark street, wearing a black dress, and her makeup was so beautiful and cold, that I came closer, and she didn't refuse to reach out to her wrists, but she looked up to me, and I breathed near her hair, and she leaned forward, and she was wearing familiar scents, and the street lights were stretching our shadows, and her fingers were holding my horn unconsciously, and the atmosphere was getting warm, and we were getting closer until her lips almost reached my ear, and she whispered to me whether I remember the secret of that night, and my heart jumped out of control, and she suddenly turned back and she looked away.