Halfblood [King|Alber × Reader]

Seven

You look at him and tilt your head in confusion. King suddenly tenses up, his crimson eyes finding his shoes.

"What did you just say?" you ask, looking at him with shock. The man's fist clenches, and you subconsciously move back on his bed.

But he doesn't hit you, only leaves the room without an answer.

You stay sitting there for quite a long time, hugging the blue book so tightly that your knuckles whiten.

You take a deep breath as you realize the tension of your muscles.

What did he mean?

You shiver and place the book on his table, your eyes getting captured by its flower pattern again.

It keeps you there for a few minutes before you look up to the mixture of colors coming through the distant rosace.

A bright, warm feeling spreads in your chest, blurring your sight.

And without no real reason, a thought takes over your mind with such power that you act without a second of delay.

You want to see the sky, no matter what it takes.

It doesn't take leaving this place, but not an easy task with your broken wings, given the incredible height of the room.

You climb upon his table, carefully not to step on any of the items on it. You wonder why he keeps dried flowers in the middle.

Somehow a man like him doesn't look like one to care about flowers.

But they are the same as the ones on the cover and the pattern of the walls.

You scowl and try to find a grip on the wood, pulling yourself up.

The wood is strong enough to hold your weight while balancing your foot. You stand on tiptoe, reaching for the edge of the spiral of bookshelves.

After your fingers found a good stand, you start climbing upwards. Your nails hurt from holding yourself at a such narrow place, but you keep going.

Something rushes through your veins, making you forget the danger of the height, the irrationality of your desire.

You keep climbing, foot after foot, hand after hand. Your wings move freely in the air but don't cause any pain.

The rays of sunlight enter, shining upon your body, revealing more and more details of the thousands of books that King saved from the Lunarians' doom.

Golden letters and silver margins reflecting the light, meanwhile some stay in complete simplicity, pale or bright colors.

Your eyes rest on a dark black one for a long time. It clears your thoughts and narrows your mind.

Age left its marks on all of them, but it makes them more beautiful in your eyes.

In Mariejois, the lack of beauty meant death for slaves like you were.

They always made sure your face was clean of scars.

At least these books can have them, and you know that King will still hold them with such care as with the one he gave you.

They are everything left behind from his heritage, after all.

You take a deep breath and keep going until you reach the top of the shelves, even if it looked infinite before. You close your eyes and climb up onto the arched ledge.

And when you look around again, your breath stops from the beauty of the shaped glass.

Myriads of colors split into this scenery, painting the sunshine to spatter it across the books below.