Symphony (gay)

Chapter 2

No...... no no no no no! He couldn't be in love with a man, he just couldn't... What would his father think if he was dating his own servant?!

The prince panicked and started fidgeting his fingers. He was anxious, though his people probably couldn't tell. He was very good at hiding his emotions. He didn't want to love his servant with every bone in his body, but his gentle smile, his full brown hair tempted him. Those features and so many more dragged him into a deep hole of love. The deepest hole of love he could ever imagine, and he simply couldn't claw himself out of it.

He would try, but then another feature would just pull him back in. Then he would drown. Drowning in the deep pit of love, with water from the deep ocean of love. So, so much love.

He glanced back over at the kitchen and saw him standing in the entrance, examining the ball and all of the women twirling like silhouettes. They showed off, winked at the prince, and blew kisses to him but the prince was purely disgusted by it. The ladies were probably only there for his money, anyway. The servants eyes bounced off of every wall, every nook and cranny of the large ballroom until he saw the prince staring back at him. They made eye contact.

It felt as if they were holding hands with their eyes, drowning in each others eye color. The servant had deep green eyes, flowy brown hair that was graying at the second, and the most handsome facial sculpture. The prince couldn't help but fall in love, couldn't help but stare and feel his own heartbeat as it thumped faster and faster.

The servant probably assumed that something was wrong and ran over to the prince. Every step the servant took made his heart quicken. "How may I help you, your highness? Would you like to taste test the cake?" The servant whispered, his gentle voice flowing into the prince's ears like music.
"What is the flavor?"
"I believe it is chocolate lava cake."
"Ooh, my favorite! I'd like to be surprised."
"Yes, your majesty."

That simple conversation filled the prince with joy. It was a certain type of joy that he never felt before, but he knew that it was joy. He started to think about what his father would think about the prince's love for this boy. He would be kicked out of the castle, or worse.

The prince started to get bored watching the women dance and his leg was getting numb. He looked over at the kitchen once again to make sure that the servants were still there, but there was only one. Him.

The servant looked as if he was singing a song, his mouth making familiar movements. The prince couldn't decipher what the melody was, but he urged to go and listen to the servants gentle voice. How desperately, did he want to hear that wonderful, lovely voice of his. The prince got out of his luxurious seat, patting down his suit and getting ready to walk over to the kitchen.

Silence came over the room.
The music paused.
The women stopped dancing.
Was this the moment where he would pick his queen?

The prince rushed over to the wooden kitchen. All of the ladies in their early 20's swarmed around him, clawed at him, begging to be his queen. They made a commotion that flooded out the band. The prince walked politely through the crowd as the women and the musicians were having a competition of who could be louder.

The ballroom was so large, it felt like he had to walk a mile just to hear the servants sweet voice. It felt like an hour went by when he finally arrived at the heated kitchen, lined with ovens and cutting boards.