Philophobia || Dreamnotfound

14

Clay's POV

It was Clay who woke up first.

His nose was still breathing in George's scent, the soft smell of him deep in Clay's nose, and his arm still wrapped around the prince's frame, holding him protectively.

Clay glanced out the window, seeing that it was just after dawn... meaning the fourth event was that day. He subconsciously pulled George closer, not wanting to make him participate in the tournament. Clay had always disliked being taught about the tradition of the tournament in his childhood lessons and he always resented the way his family viewed themselves.

Clay never held himself as high as them, he didn't see a point. Sure, he was royalty and, yes, his kingdom was the largest and most wealthy, but Clay hated putting himself as more than someone else because a person was a person. No life mattered more than another. So, Clay hated the tournament and how the royals had to compete for someone they didn't know. He didn't like being viewed as a prize... he wasn't, but that was how it felt to him.

And with George now in the equation, things changed. Clay cared for him, deeply, in a new way that he'd never felt. He could feel it in his heart, a steady burn, like a flame that only grew in George's presence. The fire in his heart was fueled by George. By his smile, his quirks, his eyes, and even his laugh, although Clay rarely heard it.

Clay knew this flame was dangerous, he knew it could overwhelm him. He knew the consequences of his heart's wants, but that didn't mean he was willing to let what he felt for George to well away, to dissipate. Clay wanted more and he knew that the fire in him would burn and burn, because he knew what George wanted, and it wasn't him.

This inferno in his heart, in his soul, would grow and grow and there was nothing Clay could do to stop it. He knew what he saw when George looked at him, the prince didn't feel this same. Clay could see it in the prince's eyes, something holding him back, something afraid. George didn't want to be here in Clay's home and Clay understood that. He understood that George wanted to go back to his home, to return to his people, his friends, his family.

Oh how Clay wanted George to stay. His heart ached at the mere thought of George leaving, riding away in his carriage, likely never to be seen again.

But Clay could do nothing about it, so he inhaled the scent of George and closed his eyes, letting the fire in him burn.

Clay pressed a dangerous kiss onto the sleeping prince's soft hair, knowing that it would never be returned, both the kiss and how he felt. He listened to George's quiet breathing, feeling his soft breath tickle his chest. Hands were still wrapped around Clay's middle, fisting in the back of his shirt and holding Clay tight.

Their legs were intertwined, calf against calf, foot against foot, in an intimately close way. Too close for their relationship as... friends? They weren't partners or lovers and they were certainly more than acquaintances, but Clay didn't know how to describe them.

A quote resurfaced in Clay's head and he murmured, too quietly for George to hear, "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."

Clay's heart squeezed, Romeo and Juliet, his favorite book, had always supplied him with the right quote, but it was different now... now that he knew he couldn't have George.

Clay sighed shakily, his frame shuddering as he lifted his nose from George's hair. The prince in his arms stirred, mumbling and yawning. Clay reflexively loosened his grip on George, but George didn't do the same. George inhaled deeply and hugged Clay tighter.

This movement confused Clay, making him freeze. George wasn't letting go. Hope dwindled in Clay's heart, but that small spark was snuffed out in an instant.