𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙙𝙮𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙙 • 𝙥𝙟𝙢 ✔︎

𝟮𝟰 - 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗸

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𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗸
𝗝𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗻

Do I think about her..? Of course I fucking think about her. More than I should and I hate myself for it. More than my body needs to function. I can't seem to control myself when I'm around her. I don't trust myself when I'm around her, when I'm with her, when she's in the same room as me. And when she placed her knife on my throat with no hesitation nor fear, I knew then that I'm completely fucked up. I knew that there's nothing she can do to fully surprise me. There's nothing she can do that will push me away. There's absolutely nothing she can fucking do to make whatever is happening between us vanish nor disappear. Simply because I won't allow it.

All because I'm not influenced by her actions. I don't care that she has a knife on my bare throat. I don't care that she could properly slit my throat open and I won't care. But if it was someone else my actions would be different and I know that. That person would be far dead. Far gone. Thrown somewhere with chopped up body parts. But somehow imagining her dead body on the ground didn't sit well with me. And I don't think it ever will. Ever.

She's humbling me and I don't think any man would like to be humbled. I know that because somehow I'm fucking addicted and I can't seem to stop. I can't let myself stop, even if I forced myself to. I didn't think she would have that sort of power over me but here we fucking are. Here she is.

Even when she was off for that one month, it took all of me to not get up and see her. Not to get up and see her for one damn minute.  I have fucking responsibilities as a future king. I have major meetings and I need to try and have a civil conversation with my father tomorrow about why he allowed those civilians I wanted out of my kingdom. I have so much on my plate by somehow the image of her on her knees rushed to me.

Rushed inside of me. Rushed through me like fucking lighting. Like that thought belonged to me. Only me.

Looking up at me with those pretty brown eyes of hers. So innocent yet so deadly. Those eyes that I'm slowly obsessing over. And filling her mouth with something more useful than that attitude she was carrying around. More enjoyable for her. More dangerous for her. And just thinking about that fantasy sent immediate warmth in my groin. Making my palms hot at the same time. Sweaty almost. Fuck me.

Her skin was soft and sound against my palm. Her bruises still visible and painted on her face like fucking tattoos and I fucking hate it. I take my other hand that was on the wall and placed it on her other cheek. Now both my hands cupping her cheeks like she's so fragile. Like if I do one wrong move she will break and die. Break onto my hands.

Her eyes are looking up at mine. They are looking up at me as her lips parted. I could feel her words on my own lips. Her steady breathers meeting my lips. That's how close my lips was to her own.