he is very dedicated in his duty to his prince, and he wouldn't want to make him rush out of bed. that can only lead to worse illnesses. day after tomorrow might be just what's needed.
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his hands are quick to push ciarรกn away, though no amount of speed would hide what had been happening between them. he doesn't know if it is better or worse that it is the king standing in the corridor with them, rather than some drรผskelle, swift in bowing his head, silent.
were he a heartrender, he may have been able to detect a third heartbeat and bring distance between them before it was too late. but even as an inferni, he's at the mercy of the raging flame of his own longing, eagerly pressing closer stillโ€” until the king clears his throat.
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the words are echoed in a whisper, fingers curled within layers of fabric, and if it were any other time, any other circumstance, he would not be so easily caught unawares.
a pleased hum sounding in his throat as lips meet again, lids fluttering shut, oblivious to the shadow at the far end of the corridor. he was not wrong, the evening is improving and with that realisation, ๐˜ช ๐˜ญ๐˜ฐ๐˜ท๐˜ฆ ๐˜บ๐˜ฐ๐˜ถ all too readily is murmured into the kiss.
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willingly going where he's directed, corners of his mouth quirking upwards against his lips. he is certain that he will still be able to make the time for that, never fear.
backing him the rest of the way into the wall, palm finding chest, fingertips pressing into fabric, kiss broken only for muttered, teasing words in-between the tangle of lips. hopefully he'll still find time for their . . . routine.
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welcoming his kiss as hands fall to his hips to draw him in closer still. he will pray twice daily if he must, he promises that.
if his faith in it, ( in ๐’•๐’‰๐’†๐’Ž ), is so strong, then he won't doubt that he can convince djel to keep them on the right path. pulling back just enough to look at him, mustering a small smile before pressing his lips to his.
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he will believe it for the both of them, if he can't. kisses pressed into his hair, to his temple.
djel has willed this for them, he's said so before, he knows, and he wants to believe that, he really does, butโ€” he also does not want anything to change between them.
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เฌผ โŽ เผฝ โœŸ ๐”—๐’‰๐’† ๐”–๐’๐’๐’…๐’Š๐’†๐’“ retweeted
โ € @brutened. โ €
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เฌผ โŽ เผฝ โœŸ ๐”—๐’‰๐’† ๐”–๐’๐’๐’…๐’Š๐’†๐’“ retweeted
โ € @brutened. โ €
tonight there will be no voices, no orders, no godsโ€ฆ i belong only to you.
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because they have to have faith that there is a higher plan, they just can't always see how it will unfold until it does.
a hand closes around fabric, warm, featherlight kisses trailing his neck. how can it, when they know already now that they can't be together? not like they could if they were anybody else. he sometimes wishes they were.
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arms wind about him, cheek resting against the top of his head. it will all be fine, in the end, it may just take some time to reach that point.
he found a bastard ( the king will have no mention of that word, but surely the child in question can be the exception ) he abandoned before he was ever born in the middle of nowhere. he'd assume the king will find a way if he wants to. shifting closer, burying face in his neck.
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he's not sure that even the king could succeed in putting together a wedding large enough to be suitable for his heir without word escaping. don't go yet, then, just a little longer.
mirthless laugh ( somehow eerily similar to his brother's, without the rattling of lungs. ) he wouldn't put it past his father to make him walk into a wedding ceremony and present him with a fait accompli like he did before. he doesn't want to go, not yet . . .
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