The Prince's Kiss - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter Eighteen

True to his word, about twenty minutes after the prince had gone upstairs, Virgil knocked softly to let him know he was coming in. He held the sword at his side, deciding that he'd use it in their assault on the palace should he need to.

"Princey?" he called softly. Roman immediately perked up from his place on Virgil's bed, smiling as he came over. "Hey..."

"Hey," he replied as he sat down, staring into his eyes. They had him drowning, but he honestly couldn't care less. "You have beautiful eyes."

"They're just brown though, nothing special," the artist protested, blushing at the compliment.

Roman frowned playfully. "That's not how I see it," he said. "They're like pools of melted dark chocolate, lurking me in with their pure and rich emotion. They're stunning, Virgil."

"Thanks, but they're not as pretty as yours," he said, blushing as he brushed their noses together.

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? Well, mine are just brown too," he retorted, using the argument the artist had previously made. "What's so special about mine?"

"You're are lighter than mine, like milk chocolate," Virgil began to explain, staring into his eyes. "They're sweeter than mine, with flecks of amber as if there's caramel in them. They're so much more beautiful than you know."

He smiled wide with a small giggle. The prince leaned forward to press a tender and sweet kiss to his lips. It lasted much longer than either of them had anticipated, and became much more needy and forceful. Virgil pulled him closer, Roman responding by his hands sliding to his sides. He hands found their way inside the artist's shirt to gently hold his waist, earning a gasp from Virgil as he felt his hands on his skin.

"Roman..." he muttered as they broke apart slightly, making the prince's heart hammer in his chest. He moved them to that Virgil was laying on his back in the middle of the bed, Roman hovering above him. "Roman, what are we doing..."

He looked up at him, eyes half closed as the prince looked down at him. Truthfully, he didn't know what they were doing either, so he simply kissed the artist's neck in response. Virgil let out a shaky breath. "Roman! My dad is literally downstairs!" he whisper shouted in warning.

"Do you want to stop?" the prince asked seriously, meeting his eyes. They'd dilated with want, but Virgil could see how important his consent was to him.

Did he want to stop? He wasn't sure at first, but the more he thought about it in that moment the more sure he was of his answer.

"No..." he admitted softly, looking away with a red face as Roman started kissing his neck again. The prince was skillfully pulling off his shirt as he moved to kiss Virgil's lips once more. When the artist realized he was shirtless on top of him and reaching to take of his own shirt, he felt his heart race even faster. "Are we really doing this? After what happened?"

Roman smiled at him, leaning forward to press his forehead to his. "Don't worry about anything else," he murmured. "Tomorrow for all we know could be the end of the world, so right now just think about me, and this, and us. You're more important to me than you know, and it's my fault of not making it clearer. Please, just live in this moment, and let me love you."

Virgil's eyes widened upon the use of the world 'love'. Neither of them had said it to each other, like it was a spell that had to be perfectly timed or it turned into a curse. Say it to quickly and the other person feels obligated to say it back. Wait too long and they start to think you don't actually feel love for them.

The artist couldn't help but feel fearful. Did he mean it? He'd made the mistake before. He mistook greed and lust for love once, and he was left with countless scars from his hand as well as his own. "Are you sure it's love?" he asked in a whisper. The prince's face turned to one of confusion as he looked away. He needed him to understand; he wasn't sure if he could take another Barry. "A-Are you s-sure it's love, Roman?"

He got chills each time he said his name. It took him a moment to understand, but he realized what he meant. He smiled sadly at his concern, knowing why he was. "Virgil, look at me please," he told him softly. The artist hesitantly looked back toward him, meeting his eyes. His eyes were so gentle and confident that they kept him grounded as the prince spoke. "I've been wanting to tell you how I felt from the beginning, that first night you came up to see me on my balcony. I fell in love with you that night. I knew it in my heart, every time I saw you after it. I promise you, with everything I have to offer, to care for you with all my heart and all my being, because... I love you."

Virgil's breath had been stolen by his words. He could feel more tears in his eyes and as he blinked they fell down his cheeks. The prince was above him, swearing on everything, which was a kingdom, a crown, more than likely riches he could scarcely imagine, that he would take care of him. The artist laughed pitifully at himself as he reached up to wipe his tears. "Y-You s-stupid prince, always so dramatic," he managed as Roman looked at him with a smile. "I-I don't want all you have to offer, I just want you. I-I... I love you too."

The prince's heart soared in his chest as leaned down to capture his lips in a long and loving kiss. "You have me," he whispered as he broke the kiss, meeting his eyes.

Kissing him once more, he pushed him back into the bed and checked his eyes once more for permission. Seeing a small nod from the artist, he pulled off his shirt.