In Chains {Sinbad X Reader}

|Part Thirteen|

|YOU|

I didn't make it far before a warm hand wrapped around my wrist and tugged me into the nearest room.

It was a cramped space. Even with my back pressed firmly against the shelves behind me, Sinband was still so close that I could feel the heat of his body radiating off of him.

My mouth opened to break the silence, but Sinbad held his hand up to stop me. A childish part of me wanted to ignore the gesture, but considering he was the ruler of the kingdom I hoped to live in, I chose to keep my mouth shut.

"I just need a minute," he says, letting his hand fall. His eyes closed and his head hung.

My heart is racing in my chest. I desperately wish for the rope that used to be at my waist.

Finally he says, "You weren't going to tell me." It's a statement, not a question.

I swallow hard. Shaking my head.

"Why?" His eyes are open now. Those intense orbs of amber watching me.

I didn't want to tell him the truth. That I was ashamed. Embarrassed. Wanting to ignore and abandon the person I was before coming to Sindria. Wanting to completely forget that life and start fresh.

"I—" the words didn't want to form. "I was scared."

"Scared?" His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Scared of what? Me?"

I shake my head. "Not of you. But of what you'd think of me if you knew the truth. Knowing that the two of us started in the same place, but you built a kingdom and concurred dungeons while I was—" I hesitated thinking about it, "while I was wearing rags and sleeping on cold, stone floors."

"I made the assumption you wouldn't recognize me. And I was right." He looks ashamed. "And that's okay. Because I was ready to start a new life. I was just happy seeing you and knowing how you were doing. That was enough for me."

There was a long pause of silence before Sinbad spoke. "I had a bad injury. Not long after the last time I saw you. It didn't cause any memory loss, but it did make some of my earlier memories hazy. I could remember growing up with you, and I could remember the mango thing—" he quirks an eyebrow teasingly and I feel my face heat, "but your face was just a blur in my mind. Your name completely gone."

His lips turn into a deep frown. His voice barely above a whisper. "I remember leaving. Being so caught up in my own grief and goals that I didn't spare a thought for you. I should have brought you with me."

His head is now turned to the side, his gaze locked on the shelves of linens to my right. And I wait for him to look at me, but he doesn't.

I find the confidence to ask the question that's always been on my mind. "Why didn't you come back?"

He squeezes his eyes shut. Refusing to look at me. "I have no good reason. At the end of the day I should have, and I'll always regret that I didn't."

I reach my hand up and cup his cheek, gently turning him to face me. My hands are rough and calloused, but he leans into my touch like it's the softest pillow in this palace.

His brows pinch together in a pained expression, but he peaks open his eyes. Finally looking at me.

"Do not feel guilty. You did great things for so many people. You created peace in a world that wasn't sure it could exist. If I had to live through everything all over again just so that this place could exist, I would. Without hesitation. So don't drown yourself in these feelings when they're in the past already."

The next thing I knew I was being crushed in a hug. Sinbad's one arm wrapped snuggly around my waist while his other hand cradled my head against his chest. He held me like I was special. Like I was important and he feared losing me. The intensity of it threatened to overwhelm me, but I wouldn't let it.