Forget About Me (8)

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"I knew you were going to be trouble"

Tom's hands held her cheeks, his eyes still closed, as he whispered those words which enticed a smile to form on her lips. His curls tickled her forehead as he leaned forward, pressing his cool skin against hers. He was kneeling, his upper body just leaning slightly over hers that was laid out on the cold ground.

The sun could just be seen over the horizon, meaning that they would have to begin walking again very soon, but she wanted to stay in this position for as long as she could. She didn't know if she would ever be this close to him again.

One of her hands moved upward, ghosting over the top of his hand that rested on her cheek, almost as if she was testing if it was really there.

"I want to do it again," she whispered nervously, hoping he would want to just as much as she did.

Tom paused, letting all of his thoughts run rampant for the first time since he met her. He could be hanged for this. She was more than off limits. She was his majesty's betrothed. His feelings for her would be irrelevant to Sam and King Gregory once he was found. She wasn't his to have.

But God, did he want her.

He opened his eyes as he pulled himself back, enough so that he could take in her whole face. She had dirt on her cheeks and in her hair, and a small cut above her left eye, but he still thought she was the most beautiful girl in the kingdoms.

"Please kiss me," she uttered, breaking the silence again and giving her desire one last hopeful plea and when he heard the desperation in her shaky voice, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He leaned forward again, connecting their lips hastily. His hands reached around her back, pulling her closer to him. She let out a sigh when their lips collided again, like she was content for the first time in days. Her hands rested on his chest as he slowly lowered her down, half his body hovering over hers.

Her hands ran up his chest, one finding a place in his curled mop that rested on his head. He groaned into her mouth when she pulled a little, making her smile into his lips, but he pulled away way too soon for her liking.

What was he doing? Sam, however unpleasant he may be, was his prince and this treasonous behavior couldn't go on without repercussions.

Tom's thoughts were a mess as he prolonged the hopefully last moments that he would be this close to her. He cleared his throat before speaking hesitantly.

"We have to go," his lips brushed against hers as he spoke before he pulled away completely. As he stood, he reached back, pulling her up from the ground as well.

Tom scratched the back of his head awkwardly, before crossing by her and dismantling the fire pit they created. She was confused to say the least, as she watched him move across their small camp site.

There was enough light now that she could see the creek and the endless forest beyond it. He was right, they needed to get moving before anyone found them, but she didn't understand him.

The princess picked up her bow and slung it over her shoulder. They decided to leave the bloody cloths they used to clean up at the bottom of the creek and they headed north on foot.

As quickly as Tom gave in to her, he seemed to have recoiled right back into his shell. Why wouldn't he look at her? Why was he walking so far in front of her? Why was he acting like it didn't happen when only moments earlier, his lips were on hers?

They walked a couple miles in silence, both of their thoughts unknown to each other. Every so often, he'd turn his head to glance back at the princess, to make sure she was following close.

He wanted to just turn around and tell her his fears. He wanted her to know that he would risk it all and just stay out her forever with her.

But what if that wasn't what she wanted? She was betrothed to Sam and a princess has duties to her kingdom, just as a knight has duties to the thrown. She could tell Sam of their weak moment and he could lose everything, which didn't scare him as much as losing her now. He'd rather be there to protect and pine for her than be hanged while she had to endure Sam and her new life alone.

While Tom fought with himself over his obligations, Adaline followed in silence. Her hand trembled as she gripped her bow and watched Tom's long strides. She reached her free hand up, grazing her finger pads over her lips softly, trying to regain the feeling of his lips on hers.

You have a duty to protect your people"

She could hear her father's voice as clear as day, warning her to stay on the path of righteousness, but how can he be such a hypocrite? He married for love, so why couldn't she have the same courtesy? Why did she have to give up everything for her kingdom when she never asked for this life?

Her knuckles turned white as she squeezed her bow, her feelings turning dark and angry and the only person there was about to take the brunt of it.

"Are you alright, your majesty?" Tom's voice startled her and her eyes glazed over.

She watched as strands of his curly hair blew in the slight breeze that traveled through the trees and she was angry. Angry that she couldn't have him and angry that he acted like he didn't want her. She was just angry.

"No, I'm not alright," she bellowed, shocking Tom and making his heart drop. What was she about to do? Did she regret everything?

Tom just stood there like a startled deer, waiting for her to say something.

"I want to know what your problem is?" Adaline huffed, throwing her bow to the ground and taking short strides towards the knight.

Tom still didn't move, His eyes followed her frame as she approached him, her shoes crunching loudly over the leaves.

"First, we kiss, and then," Adaline chuckled angrily, " we kiss again so forgive my candor, but what the hell do I have to do to get your to just stop doing your duty and admit that this," she gestured between the two of them, "is something?"

Her feet had stopped moving as she was chest to chest with him. She looked straight forward, her eyes never faltering, a tactic her father taught her for making deals with other leaders.

Tom didn't know what to say, but before he could say anything, an arrow flew by them, landing in a nearby tree trunk.

Tom grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him and putting himself between her and the direction the arrow came from, but there was no shooter.

They both scanned the horizon, and the only thing that was certain was that there were trees. Lots of them. Which also meant lots of cover for an assassin.

"We have to get out of here, now," Tom whispered, taking her hand once again and dragging her west, towards the Celtic Mountains, the range that separated the Northern and Western Kingdoms.

They were only a few miles from the foothills of the mountain range, and Tom knew that caves aligned the rocky landscape and they would be the best bet for cover. 

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