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You have to realise that there’s nothing down the road between you and him at some point. You have to realise that your existence is a world away from his and that there is no way you could ever be with him without being away from your own life. Your only life thus far.
Given the chance you must not take his hand, or let him take yours. Given the chance, you must always walk away or turn your face from his - and that little twitch of his lips when he is beginning to smile at you (if looks could kill).
When presented with an open window, take the window and jump out of it. Do not linger in his presence, do not watch him sleep. Do not let yourself hear the sound of his voice as he talks in his sleep, as he dreams of the faraway mountain, of lost treasure, of family, of starlight…
Of you.
(Why him? Why now?)
Of course, when he looks at you, you must not look at him. Always note the threatening oblivion in his eyes, the dark shade of brown that threatens to swallow you whole like a whirlpool, frenzied with passion and adoration that might just be reflecting your own feelings. Never show your feelings. So never look at him.
But when you do look at him, notice that you cannot look away first. Notice, and try to change this. Always avoid those eyes.
When he rises to your level and says your name, pretend it is merely the wind. Do not smile at him. Do not show him that you like the way he says your name.
(You don’t. You don’t. You don’t.)
Do not fall for his tricks. His little rock, laced with the promise he once told you about during his captivity (try not to think of him as your prisoner but the king’s instead, because that’s how it really is). Do not answer him too quickly. Do not look too eager to be in his presence.
And above all else, do not let him come too close, let his lips brush against yours and do not let him tell you he loves you.
You might find yourself believing him.