“You,” he admits, stealing my breath as I try to gulp past the lump in my throat.
“What did I do?” I mutter, and he offers me the smallest fraction of a half smile.
“Exist.”
It's a weighted word, one I can't easily place, and it leaves me slightly uneasy.
“I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing,” I admit, and he looks down at his lap.
“Me either.”
I scoff. “You're clawing at my ego right now, Thorne. I?—”
“I claimed you as my Shadow Fae Princess,” he blurts, interrupting as my eyebrows crinkle.
Princess sounds weird, really weird, but that's not what unsettles me.
“Are you regretting it?”
“Never,” he answers firmly, and I nod, trying to keep my head on straight with the mixed signals I'm getting from him. They're not like before. They're not completely hot and cold, but there's a bit of tepid heat in there, that's for sure.
“Okay, good,” I mutter, repeating the placid statement.
“I’m truly accepting it in more than just the words,” he offers, and I shake my head, clueless.
“What does that mean?”
His eyes meet mine and the storm calms like the settling of the waves out at sea as the chaos passes, turning to a soft lull, eager to guide me to safety.
“I love you.”
My jaw falls slack.
“Are you sure? That's not where I thought this was going,” I blurt, instantly berating myself, but he simply shrugs.
“I’m not good with words,” he states, and I snicker.
“I’m gathering that,” I muse, trying to find the right words to respond with, but before anything else can be said, he eliminates the space between us.
He crushes his lips to mine, claiming me in one fell swoop, and I melt into him. His lips are hot against mine, his fingers caressing my hair as he shuffles me into place, getting a better angle as he takes control. And for once, I don't question it. I simply submit, following his lead.
When there's a second to draw breath, I inhale sharply, prying my eyes open despite being unaware of when they closed. I meet his stare. “Your body does far better talking than your mouth,” I admit breathlessly, and he smiles, a genuine cheek-to-cheek curl that transforms his face.
I can still see the pain stored in his eyes. I'm aware it's not truly gone. But despite it all, he's able to have a moment like this with joy, a rarity, so I take all of itin.
He doesn't mutter a response as he reaches for my hand, standing to his full height and tugging me along with him. He almost feels giddy as he races up the staircase with me following a step behind.
Everything moves in a blur until the sun beams down on us once again, and I find we're up on the balcony. He maneuvers us so my back is pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around my waist as he rests his chin against my shoulder.
I bask in his embrace, breathing him in as he rocks us gently from side to side. He tightens his left arm around me while pointing off in the distance with his right.
“Over there is where the village used to be. My father would send me for bread every morning, and my sister to pick flowers for my mother,” he breathes, his words soft and gentle, and I soak them up. It’s rare for him to share something about himself, for him to recall a memory that feels warm, and it bleeds into me. “The baker would always sneak me a small chocolate croissant every morning as our little secret. What was even more of a secret is the fact that I would share it with my sister on the walk back to the castle.” His hand drops, wrapping around me once again as he sighs. “It's weird to call it a castle. It was just home.Thiswas just my home.” Sadness seeps into his shoulders.
I try to turn to him, but he hides his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in for a moment.
“I realize what I’ve been missing all of this time,” he whispers, pressing a faint kiss to my neck. “It’s that feeling. Even when I would come back here, the reason I could only make it onto this balcony and never inside. It was the feeling of home I missed. Home. Four little letters, one simple word, but it meant everything.”
I curl my hands around his arms, offering the best support I can.
