Arabian Nights (Discontinued)

The Cuff

It's a terrible idea.  Eren knows that.  But he had found the cuff, so naturally he had to bring it back.  Of course he did.  So he's decided to sneak into the palace to return it to Marco.  It's surprisingly easy and Eren thinks they need to get better security if they want to keep the street rats out.  But he wouldn't be upset if they decide to keep the street rats around.  Especially if that they is Marco.

He shakes his head because he can't be thinking of that again.  He needs to focus on why he's here — to return to cuff.  Nothing more.  He takes a deep breath, staring at the ornate golden doors before him.  After taking a moment to quell the fluttering in his stomach, he knocks on the door.  He hears a soft enter and it sounds like Marco.  His heart skips a beat and he pushes open the doors with a smile.  He's sitting at a writing desk with a book, but when he looks up, he rises to his feet.  "Eren?"

"I see this may not be a good time," he says and Marco rushes over to him and takes his arm.  His skin tingles at the touch.  "How did you get in here?  Get inside!"

He pulls him into the room and shuts the door behind him.  "How did you get here?  How did you find my — the prince's room?"

"I have my ways," he says with a smirk because it sounds a lot more impressive than I got lost and figured the prince's room would have nice doors even though that technically is the truth.  Marco breaks into a smile then and it makes Eren's stomach flip.  "Quite impressive.  But what are you doing here?"

"I'm returning your cuff."

"My cuff?" he gasps, taking a step closer to him.  "Where is it?"

"On your wrist," he replies nonchalantly and he looks down to see the gold shimmering on his wrist, the turquoise seeming to glow in the moonlight.  "How did you . . . ?"

Marco looks at him and grins and Eren thinks it's the most breathtaking one yet.  "You're a sly one," he breathes and Eren nods.

"Indeed I am.  That's what makes me such a good thief."

Marco's face immediately shifts.  "Eren, I'm sorry I —"

"I was just about to draw a bath, would you — ?" a voice starts from behind him. "Who's this?"

Eren turns, his eyes wide. 

"I, uh —"

"Prince Armin!" Marco says with a bow, addressing the brunet across the room.  "So wonderful to see you.  This is Eren," he says, putting emphasis on his name.  "I called for him in case you wanted tea."

"Th-That's right!" Eren says, but the prince gives him a strange look, as if he's confused.

"But I'm not the pr—"

"Would you like some tea, Your Highness?"

Eren doesn't understand what the emphasis is about, but figures it must be a normal thing.  There's a long pause and the prince continues to stare at them like he's trying to work something out.  Eren turns to Marco who smiles at him like this is a normal occurrence.  So he looks back, awaiting the prince's answer as if he really is there for what Marco says he is.  "Oh, I'm the prince — yes, I am, I'm Prince Armin," he finally says with a nervous chuckle.  Eren furrows his brow.  This was getting weird.  "I just love being a prince, you know," he goes on, straightening his stance.  "I love my . . . jewels . . . and my clothes — I have many wonderful clothes.  Made of silk, of course."

Eren turns to Marco again in confusion and he just raises his eyebrows.  "Yes, and I love . . . my cat!" he exclaims.  "My cat needs to be washed!  Marco!"

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Come, follow me and we shall wash my cat," the prince says before turning the corner into what Eren assumes is the washroom.  He turns to Marco and smiles.  "I guess he doesn't want the tea."

"Oh, don't mind him, he's . . . he's a bit . . . odd. Doesn't get out much. He isn't used to a lot of . . . human interaction."

"Ah, I see," he says and turns to leave when he's met by a growling tiger.  "Okay," he squeaks, stopping dead in his tracks.  The cat glares at him with fierce eyes and he feels Marco's hand take his shoulder.  "Rajah," he says strongly, but still the cat stares at Eren.  He gulps.

But then it leans forwards, nuzzling its head against Eren's leg.  "Well would you look at that," he breathes in relief and looks to Marco who seems surprised.

"He . . . he likes you," he says softly.

"What is it?"

"I . . . he never likes anyone — I . . . ,"

Eren smiles.  "Well, I guess I'm a likable person."

"You are," Marco says and Eren's stomach flips, his cheeks flushing gently.  Ocean eyes are soft for a moment before his face falls, but he tries to play it off.  "Anyways, y-you should . . . get going."

"Oh, right, of course.  You have to go wash . . . the cat."

"I do."

He reaches for the door handle, but Marco stops him.  "Wait, Eren," he says, and he looks over his shoulder.  "Will I, um . . . will I s-see you again?"

He smiles, thinking surely he'll die in a few moments because his heart is skipping so many beats.  "Of course.  Meet me tomorrow night, down by the fountain, when the sun sets," he says, noticing a silver clip tying back Marco's hair.  "To return this," he adds, reaching around and pulling it free, letting his golden locks fall like waterfalls around his face.  He giggles and it's the best sound Eren has ever heard.  He can't resist reaching out to push his hair behind his ear and hears Marco gasp as he does.  He looks at him with wide ocean eyes and Eren really wants to kiss him then, but he knows he can't.  So he just grins and says, "Until tomorrow," before opening the door and slipping into the hallway.

He leans against the opulent doors for a moment once they close, letting out a sigh.  He runs a hand through his hair and can't help a wide grin.  His mind is filled with soft blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes and he somehow is even more gorgeous in the moonlight.  He can't help the rapid beating of his heart or the somersaulting of his stomach, but he tries to focus on how to get out of the palace instead.  He turns around the corner and runs a palm over his face, taking another breath and letting it out as he turns down another corridor.

Eren stops dead in his tracks as he comes face to face with a pair of guards patrolling the hall.  He looks around for an escape route but finds none, so he tries to improvise.  "Hey there, fellas," he says with a nervous grin.  "Wonderful night isn't it?"

He decides improvising may not be his best move.  The two men stare down at him, standing silent and solemn.  He gulps.  "Well, uh, if you don't mind I'm gonna just . . . ,"

He takes a step back and feels a presence there.  "There're guards behind me," he mutters mostly to himself and looks over his shoulder to see two more staring down at him as harshly as the first ones.  "Great,"

He turns back to try and negotiate with the first guards, but they quickly shove a burlap bag over his head and hit him hard.  His world — which is dark and stuffy — seems to spiral and his eyelids fall shut as he feels his knees give out and he crashes to the floor.