Elevator romance exhibits in museum

IV.

She laid her head in his lap and he played with her hair, brushing strands from her face. It has not been long, and he was already loving her. They say love can't come that soon. He did not believe them, monsters that lurked on the outside of the elevator. They all lived for wrong and when they saw good, they could not resist to find bad in it. Museums were no better. They created stories for their bones and gold sculptures, never displaying ornaments that did not fit in their simple plots. She would never get in the museum, with sadness that rippled his insides, he concluded. 
But then again, maybe all this time he was going to wrong museums. Maybe there are those where she belonged, where she was the Queen of forgotten kingdom, where he could go and admire her till eternity shows itself and takes him beyond. Maybe beyond she will be there, waiting for him to be her king.
Maybe that's where dead princess go. Maybe even they get their happy endings after all. Or their reign in beyond-infinity is their destiny finally catching them. Maybe no one can out run its destiny. A curse that strangles our veins and poisons our every attempt to live life the way we want.
She curled into him, clutching his sides with clutch that could be mistaken for whisper. He hugged her putting his head close to hers, in a manner that suggested he was thinking about his odds of protecting her if monsters burst in.
He knew no one can save anyone from monsters within ourselves. He wanted to try. He felt it would be doomed to uselessness. Like most things in this world.
Monsters are us. If we want them gone, we need to start with ourselves. But in his case, that did not work out, because others did not understand this philosophy.