✔️STUPID CUPID| The Volturi Kings

6.

Anavrin Sommers had never been a very avid reader, it was a past time that she had not previously had time for in her busy schedule but when-- after she had fallen asleep in the Throne Room and awoken in her bedroom, Marcus had handed her a soft pile of clothes and then guided her with a gentle hand to his library; she could not find it within her heart to deny him of any request. Still, she decided that she much preferred hearing him read as he had for her on that very first night. She suspected he just wanted her near while he worked and the very consideration made her heart swell. 

He noticed her staring half a second before she had been planning to look away and he caught her eye-- making her duck her head back behind the book she held as her cheeks burned. Only Marcus could so entirely undo her with a singular glance. She was sure that he did not even recognise the reaction he created. Marcus was unique.

So unique in fact, that he stood the instant he recognised her glance and made his way toward her-- at a speed that her eyes could follow. Only when her head was leant right the way back to look up at him, did he crouch in front of her, a small smile twisting on his lips and thoughts in his eyes. 

"You have an ocean of emotions behind your eyes, Sweet Love," his voice was hardly a whisper but she heard him, just as she was sure she would hear him in a crowded room. Marcus was the prince charming of the story, the sweet love that was instantaneous and without difficulty. He was the love as easy as breathing and she found no greater joy than seeing a smile twist upon his lips where she was sure from shadows, it had so very rarely been. Anavrin could not claim to ever have been the light of anybody's existence but when he looked at her in that all-consumed way, she felt as though she was his. It had been less than a week and he had swept her away in the most glorious tidal wave. She did not wish to swim against that current.

"The three of you encourage over-thinking," she returned, hand moving almost involuntarily and the sight of her own fingertips approaching his cheek shocked her out of her awed staring upon him. Her golden bangle slipped down her arm just as he tilted his head into her touch with sincerity almost similar to that of an innocent puppy-- almost adorable and yet, not quite. Marcus was something else. Anavrin marvelled in the cool softness of his skin, a quality eternally awing. 

"Then clear that glorious mind of yours," he slipped his hand into her free one and tugged her to stand quite easily, the silky nightgown he'd provided her slipping down around her legs. Anavrin felt as though the instant she stepped foot into the Volturi castle, she'd been flung back in history and although it had never been her favourite subject, nor had her love for lavish modernism ever inclined her to wish to time travel-- she felt welcomed in their capturing of the past. Marcus led her to the balcony door and out, right to the ornately carved railing. The wind tugged her hair and dress behind her and the warmth of it was welcoming, kissing her. 

"How would I clear my mind?" Marcus stepped up behind her, body to her back and she cast her gaze down as his hands appeared on either side of her. He dressed the part of prince charming with frilly cuffs and embroidered long coats. If she had seen anybody else dress in such a manner, she'd have snorted and sniggered but for him, she could imagine no different. 

The circle of his arms was a happy, welcoming place and even the stinging pain in her bruised lip could not ruin the true peace and serenity of that moment as she tipped her head back to rest against his shoulder. He kissed her temple in reciprocity.

"Speak it into the wind, that is what I have so commonly done. Let the wind take it away. Tell me your woes, my Queen, and they will be vanquished." Marcus had poetry in his tongue and she thirsted for it as one would for water. There was no semblance of embarrassment to open her lips then and tell him everything, every thought lingering in every corner of her avid imagination. He was a man she hardly knew and was destined to love for eternity and still, she found only comfort in his arms as she poured her heart out to him and the gorgeous gardens ahead-- that Aro had reliably informed were modelled off of the gardens of Versailles.  It should have been uncomfortable to speak to one of her lovers about the other two but it was not. It was nothing shy of relaxing... Just as Marcus had said it'd be.