separated by the stars

7

⪦⁝⋌⋄◌⋄⋋⁝⪧

Kisses in secret...

Knowing glances at the other across the hall, small taps against each other's hands as we passed in the hallways, the longing to race up to the other and never let go...those were the encounters we experienced over the next couple of days. There was a secret understanding between the two of us that we had to keep our love hidden. It was a gorgeous truth that only appeared in those few stolen moments and blossomed beneath the light of the moon.

As the moments increased, so did our attachment. We started getting riskier in the daylight, we started needing the other more, we became careless. I knew that a good portion knew about our attraction, or at least suspected it. I was sure of the fact that our bodyguards knew of our relationship, but they all stayed silent. Even if they did gossip, it stayed behind closed doors and the entrance to the castle. After all, who in their right mind would defy a member of the royal family? Much less their king.

Each day I knew we were closer to getting caught. With every stolen kiss in the hallway, every rendezvous to a previous engagement just so we could stay wrapped in the other, I knew one day people were bound to notice. I knew these moments of happiness that we spent with each other in the sun would be short-lived and once they were over, I would have no chance to gain them back.

But I didn't care.

With each passing moment, we were nearing the wedding day, and he would be stolen away from me no matter what I did or will try to do. So what if a few servants notice our romance or the guards see us when we are most vulnerable? What if we make our feelings and intentions obvious in the light of the day? What does any of that matter if, in the end, we will be separated anyway?

And then there's Sana, my sweet, generous, kind sister. Someone who only wants Bangchan's love and acceptance. Who wants to love and be loved in turn. She is my only regret, the only reason I do not run to Bangchan every day and hold him where the entire world can see. I know how it feels to watch someone yearn for someone else, and I never want her to feel that way.

But the thought of parting with him now, after everything I've already done to jeopardize my plans, I refuse to let go for that reason alone. Because the thought of them being together, of him, even having the capacity to love someone else other than me, to forget about me and be content drives me crazy. I may be selfish, but I just want to be happy for just a little while longer. 

All I need is more time.

And so every day I fight for it, and beg for it and forget about everything else except him. I forget about the worry, the doubt, the dread. I don't pay any mind to the future or the inevitable fate that befalls us. All I focus on is him. All I care about is the fact that I am his.

And he is mine.

And then there are the nights.

The nights where we are finally allowed to roam free in the safety of my bedroom. Where nothing, not even the existence of the thin fabric of cloth could separate the two of us for long. We bask in the other, drowning in a sea of love that should have lasted for a lifetime, but has been pressed to last only a few more days. As they pass, we only grow more desperate. Our hearts clinging and intertwining as though they were unwilling to let us go from the infatuation, the parasite that was our love.

He would always show up at my door, or already be waiting in my room when I arrived to turn in for the night. Underneath the moonlight and the stars that twinkled faithfully in the sky, my room became our room. A new version of the world which we created in the other's arms.

It was these moments that were the most precious. For in these wrinkles of time, we would tie ourselves to the other in such a way that when the day finally came for us to say goodbye we would know that we belonged to each other. And no one will ever be able to change that or break that bond, nor replace that. Not even if they wanted to.

Not even if they tried.

On one of these nights, I awoke from a dazed sleep to see Bangchan staring at the night sky through our open window. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his hands still intertwined with mine, and his eyes wide. In them, I did not see any wonder or astonishment at the sight of the universe before him. Instead, I saw a form of desperation. A question, a beg, a plea. Almost as though he were longing to make some sort of bargain with the powers that govern the makings of the sky.

I had sat up and pressed my lips against his shoulder, before nestling my head into the crook of his neck. He was not surprised by my presence, he already knew I had awoken, but he had not allowed it to break his careful conversation with the constant pattern of the stars. Wrapping my arms around him, I followed his gaze to the sky as he leaned against me, his hands wrapping around mine, indigent for my touch.

"What are you looking for?" I mumbled against his skin.

"What do you mean?" he answered me, playing with my fingers absentmindedly.

"You've always looked at the stars, ever since we were kids," I explained, watching the way our fingers intertwine and then break away, almost as if we were playing some sort of strange game. "I was just wondering what it was that you were looking for."

He smiled at the question, but it was a sad smile. Something in the way he looked at that moment is nearly sorrowful and despondent. He looked so far away, losing himself in a place where I cannot reach him.

"I don't exactly know." He replied, his hand wrapping itself protectively around mine and refusing to release it. "It changes from day to day. Sometimes I would look for you among those stars." He turned to me, and I picked my face up off his shoulder, meeting his dazzling eyes. "The days we were separated I found myself looking for you every day."

"And right now?"

He smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against my forehead before resting his head on my shoulder and pulling me closer to him. I was taken aback at the way he desperately held on to me, but if he needs to lean on me, then I will gladly be his comfort.

"A way out."

I didn't say anything, I didn't have to. He already knew I understood.

They were words we longed were true, words we hoped we could find but were dreadfully aware did not exist.

At least, not for the two of us.

⪦⁝⋌⋄◌⋄⋋⁝⪧