Number Four

Imago

More notes started appearing as time went by, hidden all over, tucked in the nooks and crannies.

You're not supposed to be here.

Don't trust him.

He's lying to you.

Bonnie found the latest in the spout of the teapot when she was pouring the breakfast tea; carefully, she plucked it out, scrunching it up in her palm and stashing it away. Henry was sitting at the head of the table, and seemed intrigued as to why she had stopped. "Are you alright?" He asked as she sat down, reaching out to smooth her hair and put his cool fingers against her forehead.

"... Oh, yes, I'm fine." Bonnie handwaved, smoothing down the close-fitting skirt of her elegant purple dress.

He twirled a long strand of her hair around his finger. "You are wonderful." His hand trailed down her neck to her arm, picking up her hand and pulling her in close. "Are you sure I can't change your mind about wearing my ring?"

Bonnie's face was a hair's breadth from his own. "...I'm not really much of a jewellery person."

Ooh, what a lie! She had worn her bangles for years! The exposed 004 on her wrist twinged just thinking about it.

Henry grinned wickedly; leaning forward, he spoke low, lips brushing her ear. "I am certain I could persuade you." His hand was tight around her wrist, holding her caught; the other was suddenly warm on the small of her back. Bonnie flushed all over.

He pressed a kiss to her temple and sat back, as if he had done nothing.

Bonnie felt the itch of the crumpled paper tucked inside her sleeve.

***

The next one Bonnie found was hidden under her pillow- she had come across it when she stretched out her arms in bed, relaxing at the end of the day.

It's an illusion.

Frustrated, she chucked it to the side and picked up a book from the bedside table. It was the book of fairytales and she opened it to one of the stories. There, perfectly illustrated on the page, Sleeping Beauty rested on her tower of thorns.

Except... the more she looked, it was not Sleeping Beauty at all. The page seemed to change before her widening eyes, becoming something else.

It was her bedroom in the Creel House, but not like she recognised it, not like she was in it now. The place seemed old, grey and dilapidated. Strange, cold light cut the air. Instead of a princess, another dark-haired figure lay on the bed, wrapped up in vines.

"-Wait!" Bonnie reached out, as if on instinct, her hand slapping flat against the page. When she removed it, the image had returned to regular ink.

Bonnie's breath came in short, sharp pants as her eyes flitted around the twilit room.

A/N: Photo and music up top!

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