flowers and crowns-dnf

34: love really is blind

Love-

An intense feeling of deep affection

That what he was currently feeling.

Clay never understood the concept of love, he grew up in a cold and loveless castle. So when he finally understood him and his feelings, it was too late. It was too late to step back and learn to not love George. Everything about him was perfect, how could he not?

But maybe that's where the phrase "love is blind" came from. Because he knew. Clay knew that he was the one being blind, not the love. The strong affection towards the brunette just helped him realize it. All he saw was George. He didn't see the flaws of love or the flaws of anything in particular. Flowers bloomed when he smiled, the sun shined as he laughed. The world could end right there and as long as Clay was with George, everything was okay.

Which was odd, and certainly unhealthy. But when you're in such deep love, you don't try to become someone different. You take what you are and make the best of it.

And that was exactly what Clay was doing.

He was making things better. Better, meaning he was making the chaos end and the good things begin. Was he hopeful?

Yes, most definitely.

Was he confident?

No, not really, but that's what the mystery of life is... right?

Right?

—————

Clay must've mustered up enough courage because he finally knocked. His hand that was hovering over the elegant lion-shaped door knocker finally did something.

The sound of metal clicking against smooth wood echoed through the empty halls, playing for no one in particular.

"You may come in," the cold voice behind the door said. It made them both shiver as if a cold gust of wind had broken out of the sturdy walls.

Slowly, Clay pushed the door open, revealing the warmly lit room.

The fire flickered in the shimmering fireplace, spraying small bits of ash. The warm air brushed their cheeks, creating a sensation that was comforting to them.

The room hadn't changed at all, but the atmosphere seemed tense and unusual. The Queen noticed it too. She was sat in the center of her large desk that had one too many cabinets and held one too many secrets.

"I never expected to see you come back," she said. The statement seemed warm and welcoming, but the tone of her voice certainly was not. Her eyes furrowed as she spotted the brunette who was practically trembling with uncanny fear. "And you too, George," she muttered his name as if it was a curse word of some sort.

"We've come to compromise," Clay said with a demanding tone. "And it would be wonderful if we could have your consent."

"If this is a marriage proposal of some sort, I don't want to hear it," she scoffed, then faced George. "Especially if it's with this person."

"You were more than eager for me to wed with that Princess the other day."

"Her name is Amara," she responded coldly, her crystal grey eyes piercing into Clay's.

"And his name is George," the blonde man said protectively.

The woman crossed her arms, becoming impossibly scarier. "Well, is this some 'compromise' or is it going to another one of your complaints?" she said as she tapped her foot on the dark red carpet.

"It doesn't seem like you want either of them," Clay spat out.

"I don't, Clay. You must know that."

He sighed, then used his free hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he said, "Then would you like some questions."

"I'd love that," his mother challenged. She twirled a strand of platinum blonde and tilted her head, awaiting her son's next words.

"Why are you so afraid?" he asked bitterly.

The woman recoiled, she hadn't expected that. "Afraid?"

"You're afraid about imperfection, it's like you're allergic to it or something. But imperfection," Clay let out a half-hearted laugh. "Imperfection isn't some factor that you can easily avoid, it lives in everyone, the important part is how you handle it. And you," he pointed a firm finger at the Queen. "You think you've got it all under control, but you don't."

"How so?" she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm imperfect, and him?" he stole a glance at the brunette who was watching the action unravel. "I'm imperfect for him. But you don't know what the so-called imperfection is, don't you?"

George looked down at the floor, trying to hide his growing smile. He knew the blonde, he knew what he was going to say. Love, he thought to himself. And he was right, that was what Clay had meant.

"Love," the blonde man said as shook his head slowly, "Love is imperfection, it ruins us. It crumbles down our consciousness and destroys all we have left. And you know what? I'm fine with that. I love George, and I'm okay with that!" he ranted, then faced the brunette who was full-on smiling now. "I love you, and it's not a crime. It's okay!"

She pulled a disgusted face, then put a hand up in the air. "You may stop now, Clay," the Queen said, but her voice wasn't so monotone and calm anymore. Even with her best efforts, Clay could see her breaking as every word escaped his mouth.

"Why should I? Give me one fucking valid reason, and I will shut up."

"He's not right for you," she said sternly. "This isn't who you are."

"You mean this isn't who I was supposed to be. I know who I am, what do you know about me? Not much, to be honest. And if you're talking about George, you're wrong. He's the best thing that ever happened to me, and I love him. Do you want to tell me otherwise?"

"You don't know anything, Clay! What are you going on about? Love, what do you know about love, huh?" Her voice was slightly raised now, the anger evident in her no-longer calm tone.

"More than you, at least," the blonde said with a scoff.

They stayed silent, the tension in the room rising.

The blonde man opened his mouth to say something else, but George instantly interrupted him.

"Why do you hate me?" He asked with a stern expression. The gentle look in his eyes fluttered away, replaced with a flicker of something Clay had never seen before.

"Hate you?" the Queen replied, taken by surprise.

She only received a quiet but confident nod from him.

"What are you doing?" Clay quietly whispered to the brunette. "This wasn't part of the plan," he added.

"It doesn't have to be, I got this."

That was another reason the blonde admired George so much. His positive attitude and confidence. Maybe that was the main reason they were here now, but no one would ever know the truth.

Was it the kiss in the ballroom that sparked this? Or was it the time they danced under the luminous glow of the night sky littered with stars? Or was it just destined to happen. Maybe it was. Maybe it was just a script of never-lasting words, documenting how the days would go, and how they would pass.

Or could it just be a bunch of reasons why Clay loved George?

That was endless as well.

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1288 words

I'm a bit disappointed with this, but I feel pressured to post every day, so here you go. I normally edit and rephrase weird sentences in the morning, so yeah :)

Thank you so much for 9K reads and 700 votes, I feel like I'm hallucinating.

People don't say this enough, so I'm going to do this for them: I'm proud of you <3