Ava (Patreon)

Through the Reeds

The day felt like it had been dipped in gold. That warm kind of sunlight that makes even the air shimmer, like it’s trying to flirt with anything that stands still long enough. I wandered toward the river, letting the soft hiss of water guide me until the reeds rose tall around me, brushing my legs as if they were greeting me personally.

I slipped into the little pocket of space between them — my own secret clearing. The perfect mix of stillness and movement. My yellow dress caught the sun instantly, glowing so brightly it almost felt like I was daring the river to look back at me.

The breeze played with the hem, lifting it just enough to make the fabric sway against my thighs, echoing the lazy rhythm of the water. I let my fingers trail along the reeds, feeling their cool stiffness contrast with the warmth on my skin.

Somewhere behind me, Moroi had stopped. I didn’t need to see the camera to feel the focus settle on me.

So I turned my head slowly, deliberately, letting my gaze slip across the water — calm, but a little sharper than necessary. A look that said I knew exactly what I was doing out here… and exactly who was watching.

The light layered everything: gold on my dress, green in the reeds, silver in the ripples, and a little spark of something playful in my expression. Standing there, half-hidden by the tall grass, I felt both part of the landscape and entirely apart from it — like I was letting nature frame me on its own terms.

Later, I’d see the photo and smile at how timeless it looked.

But in that moment — sunlight warming my shoulders, reeds brushing my hips, the river pretending not to stare —

I already knew the story the scene was telling.

And I was very much in on it.