Single Handed

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   "Lord above Sorin!" Ambrose shot to his feet. "You left the door open!" The frog hopped out of the way, watching as Ambrose shut the door.

     "It wasn't my fault, I didn't know it was open!" Sorin sat at the edge of the bed, lifting his feet. Sorin was never a fan of frogs.

      "You were the last one to come in!" Ambrose scolded. He turned, putting a fist on his hip, unaware he was the spitting image of his mother, the cocked brow and all.

     "No, the last one to come in was the frog." Sorin smiled, thinking he was funny. Ambrose, however, did not share this particular humor.

     "I'm not messing around Sorin." Ambrose felt a rush of anxiety wash over him, thinking of the arranged marriage, what his parents would think. If any of the butlers or maids were to see, there would surely be talk. It wouldn't be long before the whole kingdom would know. King Alamon would surely call off any sort of agreement with Ambrose's father. Ambrose could single-handedly ruin himself, his family, and his kingdom with just this one incident. Sorin's grin fell upon seeing the panic on Ambrose's face.

     "Do your parents not know?" Sorin tilted his head, trying to see Ambrose's next expression. The prince lowered his head, bringing his hand to his forehead.

     "No. They don't know." Ambrose couldn't speak above a whisper.

     Sorin paused, unsure of how he should continue. The two of them hadn't gotten along since they'd met but Sorin felt a particular understanding of Ambrose in this moment. He wasn't sure if Ambrose would even want to be comforted or understood by him.

     Ambrose couldn't even look at Sorin, not because he was angry or disgusted by Sorin, he was just embarrassed. Was he less interesting because his parents didn't know about his preference for men? Was he less desirable? Would Sorin no longer want to partake in these actions now that he knew Ambrose just couldn't bring himself to tell his parents?

     "What are you thinking?" Sorin was gentle with his question. He wasn't trying to be accusatory, he was genuinely curious as to what was going through this boy's head at that very moment. He could almost hear the cogs in Ambrose's head turning, squeaking against each other as he struggled to slow them down.

     Ambrose scoffed, appalled at how Sorin had been so rude, such a tease to him before now, but all of the sudden, Sorin wanted to be sweet, gentle, understanding even. He weighed his options. Ambrose wanted, needed, to talk about this, he needed to have someone finally listen to him, he was almost desperate to be able to get all of this stress off his chest. However, this was Sorin. The same man who would sooner call him disgusting with his hand around Ambrose's throat than listen to him. That was what he believed anyway.

      "Ambrose." Sorin asked for Ambrose's attention again, a growing concern in Sorin's stomach becoming too large to ignore.

     "This could have ruined everything Sorin." Ambrose finally lifted his head. "I could have ruined everything."

     Sorin shifted, somewhat uncomfortable. "How do you mean?"

     "I'm meant to marry a girl I hardly know, her father being severely important to the continuation of this kingdom." Ambrose explained, picking up the frog, finding some comfort in holding it.

     Sorin never liked apologizing. He squirmed in his seat, sighing almost a little too loudly for the situation. "I'm sorry." He finally mumbled.

     Ambrose had half a mind to laugh.

     "I'm sorry?" Ambrose repeated, a smile creeping onto his face.

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