The King's Possession ✔️

TWENTY SIX

Word Count: 1510

The night's sweet wind dances wistfully through my curtains, my balcony doors wide open.

I suspect Marek will follow through with his promise he made the other day, to come and tell me how the date went once it was over. I'm not sure why he offered to do so; maybe he didn't want me to feel jealous, or left out. Maybe he didn't want me to think it was serious.

Too bad. Now I realise how serious he really is about Vaia.

It shouldn't bother me as much as it is doing so right now, as I sit awkwardly upon my bed, rubbing my sweating palms upon each other. I'm not sure if I feel this way because he kissed me, and I felt something in that moment that I hadn't before. Or maybe this has been happening for quite some time, and the idea of Vaia having his affections truly bothers me.

There's no knock on my door, as Marek slips in, closing it behind him. He looks dishevelled, with mussed hair falling at his ears and temples, his clothing unkempt with a few buttons of his shirt undone, showing the taut planes of the top of his chest. My stomach turns uncomfortably.

"How was your date?" I ask breathily, appearing to lounge back on my bed nonchalantly.

Marek pauses by the door, gaze tracing the outline of my body for a long, drawn-out moment. The faintest hint a frown graces his forehead before he shakes his head and it vanishes. Is he feeling guilty? Is he going to lie to me, or hide it from me? It's none of my business, in truth.

"Fine," he replies, his voice deathly soft.

"Vaia as shallow as we assumed?" I ask casually. Marek pulls his jacket off, draping it upon the dresser as he sits down on my ottoman. I look away, not wanting to concentrate on the way his skin shows from his rolled up sleeves, on the faint line of muscle under the fabric.

"Something like that," he replies.

I shift uncomfortably, the air around us scented sweet from stems of lavenders in a crystal vase by the window. He's being cold toward me, sharing so little with me when he promised he would share every word she said to him when he returned. I doubt he wants to speak to me about them kissing.

"Are you close with her? You haven't told me much about how you two get along," I ask, unable to help myself.

Marek shrugs, resting his elbows on his knees as he focuses on me. He looks frightfully stoic under the dim lighting, shadows sweeping to frame the sharp contours of his face, the balmy breeze ruffling his hair gently.

"I 've hardly spoken to her," he tells me quietly, angling his head. His stare is relentless, but I refuse to look away. Should I be angry that he is lying to me, or should I expect nothing less? He doesn't owe me anything, doesn't need to share his experience with me. Perhaps he is embarrassed that he feels for Vaia, since her and I don't get along.

"Oh..."

His eyes darken. "Surprised?"

For a long moment, I don't know how to reply. I'm not sure why he is being so defensive, so unable to share anything with me. Instead of replying, he gets to his feet, wandering over to the balcony where the curtains flutter and shift in the breeze.

"No...I guess I didn't get that impression," I say with a shrug. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. I have no reason to believe that there is anything going on between him and Vaia.

Silently, he presses the balcony doors closed, dousing the room in deathly silence.

"I knew it was you," he murmurs quietly.

Please no.

"Knew what was me?" I ask, my voice breathy and soft. I already know what he is insinuating, but the idea of it being true has my entire world spiralling into a dark hole I can't escape from.