Two Princes

19. A Sin

When Meliodas wakes up in the morning, Elizabeth is gone, and her side of the bed is cool.

He has no idea what to think. He slept so soundly last night that she could have run screaming from the tavern after what they did, and it probably would not have woken him—so maybe that's what happened. Fuck. You've ruined her, you've scared her away, it was too much, too fast, too—he closes his eyes in memory of how she felt, tangled up with him—perfect.

How will he be able to face her again, though, if she couldn't even face him in the morning? Or maybe—maybe, she left, because it wasn't him she couldn't face, but the truth of last night? He supposes he could handle if Elizabeth couldn't face him, but if he's pushed her to a point where she can't even face herself now... Please. Don't let that be my sin.

He drags a hand through his hair and goes downstairs in search of breakfast, or perhaps alcohol to dull the niggling pain of her absence.

❤︎

"Meliodas!"

His head shoots up. Elizabeth turns away from the stove and gives him a bright smile, a spatula in one hand and a plate piled high with fluffy golden pancakes in the other. She sets the plate on the counter and scoops two pancakes to another plate, generously buttering them and sliding them across the bar top to Meliodas, who takes one of the stools, eyes following her every move in amazement that not only did she stay, but she is cooking him breakfast.

"What?" She catches the incredulity in his expression, and she waves the spatula at him. "Despite how hard it is to screw up pancakes, it's not like I was going to let you cook."

Green eyes laugh mirthfully as he reaches for the syrup.

Elizabeth has thought of everything: fresh coffee, cold milk, tangy orange juice, and as soon as she finishes cooking, she makes herself a plate and hops up on the barstool next to him.

"These are really good, Elizabeth," Meliodas compliments around a mouthful. The pancakes are rapidly disappearing from his plate. She beams at his praise.

"Maybe," he teases after gulping his milk, "we should just skip the dance and you can cook something here!"

Elizabeth's fork stills on the plate as she remembers why she snuck out last night to come here in the first place.

Meliodas is quick to note her dimmed cheerfulness. "I'm not serious!"

"No...that's not it." She pushes her plate away and leans on the bar, hugging herself. "I...actually came by last night because I needed to talk to you."

"Oh. So you didn't come to spend the night making passionate love?" He raises an eyebrow, feigning disappointment, but his eyes are twinkling as she chokes on her coffee, her face redder than ever before.

"N-n-no, that's not—I mean, not that I didn't enjoy it—I—I mean..." Flustered, she trips and tumbles over the words, tries to take another drink of coffee, chokes again, and coughs desperately.

Meliodas thumps her gently on the back. "I was only joking, Elizabeth." His voice is softer, and he winds an arm around her waist to pull her closer and kiss her forehead. "What do you need to talk to me about?"

He refills her coffee and waits patiently while she catches her breath and gathers her thoughts.

"It's about the dance. Father...basically told me that I'm not allowed to go unless it's with Arthur."

"I see."

She rushes on: "But I don't want to go with him! I want to go with you."

"Then we'll go." Calmly he polishes off the rest of his pancakes and drains his milk glass.

"We...will?"

"Sure, Elizabeth. If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do."

"But—"

"Elizabeth." The firmness of his voice prompts her to close her mouth. "It's not Bartra's decision. You need to trust that you know what's best for you." He takes one of her hands and intertwines their fingers. "You should be able to do whatever makes you happy, and if that is going to the dance with me, then we will."

"I don't want him to know—to get you in trouble," she whispers, looking down at the counter.

"It would be a sin for me not to come to the door and greet both of you properly," he counters, mischievously winking. "I can take care of myself. And you."