secret nights and gilded lights || flower husbands

Cupid Made A Mistake and Pulled the Trigger

"And how odd it is to be haunted by someone that is still alive."

~I Guess the Old You is a Ghost (#589: June 25, 2014)

————

Scott wakes up to the sore throbbing along his hips, the morning light shining through his closed eyes, prodding him to wake up. He was shirtless, the familiar cold breeze of Rivendell nowhere to be found. His feathers were ruffled and he felt sticky.

There was something else though. Something–no, someone–has their arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him close to them, chin resting comfortably atop his head.

His eyes fly open, memories of last night flooding his mind. Memories of sloppy kisses and stumbling laughter, of heavy breathes and strained curses, and of a certain blond cod boy that is currently holding him like a teddy bear.

Panic seizes him in an instant, instinctively shoving away the Codfather, who falls off the bed with a startled "oof!". He pulls himself up the floor, seemingly in a daze, but as he meets eyes with Scott, a deep flush overtakes his features.

Neither of them speaks, neither of them want to address this rather awkward and potentially very dangerous situation they just got themselves in.

Scott's eyes darts around the room for his shirt, feeling heartrate skyrocketing to the stratosphere, because, fuck, he just fucked—well, got fucked by—the king of a not-technically-enemies-not-technically-allies empire.

He grabs and slips on the first tunic he sees and quietly thanks Aeor that his pants are still on.

Solidarity opens his mouth to speak, but he is quick to cut him off. "We will not speak of this." he hisses, standing up even as his bruised hips complain.

"Smajor, wai–"

"We will not speak of this." he repeats firmly, before jumping out the window and flying towards Rivendell.

He was so so fucked.

————

Sneaking from the guards is a relatively easy task for Scott, since he already knows they're rotations. He manages to squeeze himself through his bedroom window, falling face first onto his spruce wood floors.

He lays there for a few moments, an undignified heap on the floor, his lower extremities sore and numb. He is glad—not for the first time—that he insisted to his advisers that he didn't need a personal attendant. It gives him the time and space to wallow in his misery and regret his life choices

As if on cue, there was a knock on his door. He groans, why in Aeor's name does he have the worst luck today?

"Sire?" he hears the familiar voice of his secretary—Zehava—from the other side of the door.

Groggily, he lifts himself up, careful to not agitate his aching limbs. He doesn't have to worry about Zehava peaking in and seeing the alarming amount of bitemarks in his skin. He knows her long enough to know that she understands the concept of privacy.

"I'll be down in a minute." he calls out, hoping his voice doesn't sound too hoarse.

"Sire, I just want to remind you that you have a meeting today with Her Highness Katherine of the Overgrowth." she states in her usual calm tone.

Scott's eyes went wide. Fuck. It was a House Blossom meeting, which means Solidarity will be there. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

He doesn't think he can look into the Codfather's eyes again after that. He doesn't think he can spend two hours simply sitting there and being near him. He doesn't think he can still look at him and not remember what happened that night.