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“Dear Karl.”
The blond says aloud into the room he calls his bedroom, windows closed, doors locked. He sighs audibly, trying to think of words to write onto the crinkled piece of paper he could find somewhere in his room. He didn’t want to ask any of his peers, knowing they would question on why he needed it, and he doesn’t have such a creative mind as his mom says, flaunting about her sons possibility of becoming something he’s not quite sure he can be.
Words are hard to form, he thinks. His wife, sleeping sound asleep in the bed the maids have made so nicely for them, is beautiful; she’s beautiful in everything she does, so so pretty that everyone is jealous of Dream, the almost-to-be King of his kingdom, that he has such a stunning wife to call his — or shall he say, something he should want, but doesn’t desire.
He’s looked up to, among others. Children admire the crown that lays upon golden shiny locks that curl around his head. Women admire his handsome looks that conquer among all men. Men admire the royalty that he has — admires how easily he could get people to bow down to him.
He wouldn’t say he is the kindest person that a random person could pick among a crowd. He doesn’t know why people have so much admiration for someone who has done nothing to get what he has, they shouldn’t fawn — they should be angry with him. They should be filled with fumes that the stuff they work so hard for doesn’t get served on a silver platter.
He thinks of words to say, to write — but the future king that awaits all — is not good at feelings. Never has been. Never has been those people who write poems for people they would cross the whole sea for (he has never understood why the would in the first place). Never was the one to write a love song for someone he had just met a few days ago. All in all, he has never been in love.
Until he saw the shorter brunet preform their duties to the kingdom. A knight, who had the most beautiful features to walk among earth he had ever seen. He knows it’s cheesy, but there’s no better way to describe it. Their hair that flowed with such elegance. The way they said his name with such warmth. He knew he had fallen for them immediately.
He dropped to his knees sooner then he thought he would. He knows the brunet has power all over him even though he knows the kingdom is waiting for their leader, their normal leader. He knows their kingdom doesn’t want two kings, doesn’t want two queens, doesn’t want anything else other than how it’s always been, one Queen and one King on the throne gaining equal balance to the kingdom. It’s wrong. He knows. But he can’t stop the way that he feels around them.
He doesn’t even know why he is writing a letter to someone he doesn’t even know that much, they met two weeks ago, by his own father. He introduced them by introducing to the knights that help the kingdom thrive. He introduced him to all the knights specifically, wanting him to know all the people that work for him and his almost-to-be kingdom. He thought it was good, he doesn’t mind the Royal life that much. Of course he has a lot of responsibilities he has to take upon, but he doesn’t mind. He likes being busy.
Once they walked to the lower part of the castle, where the knights slept, he immediately was interested. They all seemed so kind and so sweet. It was hard to tell they were even knights. Once he locked eyes with a certain brunet, he knew he would be into the things the knight does.
He walked closer to the shorter, the brunet urgently fixing and brushing themself off for a conversation with a top-tier-royal, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of someone who holds so much power. Well, that’s what he believes anyways.
“Hi.”
“Hello, your majesty.” They greet with much politeness, trying to not smile for formalities, but ultimately falling with a slight upturn in the corners of rosy lips that the prince has a sudden urge to touch with sweet carefulness.
He smiles back, worlds falling apart once he takes a greater look at the knight that stands in front of him. They are gorgeous, he notes. He feels a sudden heat rise on his dotted cheeks, he immediately goes to cover the exposure. He hears the other chuckle with honey lacing their beautiful leveled voice.
The umber eyes hold so much. He could almost see his whole, his future in hazel colors that drown the brunet. Eyes that crinkle with a upturn of lips. He wants to touch, but he knows it would contain illegal reasonings that he has to turn down. They would have his head on a stick if he wasn’t so important to the kingdom.
”My name is Karl, if you wanted to know.” He sees a tint of pink dust their cheeks, awkwardness surrounding the surface.
If he were a normal person, he would introduce himself. He knows he doesn’t have that privilege, the privilege to say simple things, like introducing his name to others, or telling them his birthday, or asking dumb questions without being known to know these things, or be known with knowledge that other people don’t hold.
It’s stupid, he knows, but he wishes he has the same privileges as a stranger, a person no one knows, a random person in the village. No one can have everything, he figures. Even if you are a royal and you have more privileges than normal people have, but he wishes he could have all. He’s selfish.
”Hi, Karl.” He grins, holding much admiration for the other as much as the opposite. “I’m here to meet you and your troops.” He holds out his hand, awaiting for the other take it and shake it. He does, cautiously he may add. The handshake is awkward, but met with much politeness as it can hold. He takes his hand back, eyes trailing all over the walls and the room itself with all its glory. “Out of all the soldiers rooms, I have to say, yours is the nicest and tidiest.”
Karl lets out an embarrassed chuckle, eyes following wherever the blond’s land. It lands on a family picture, one that hold their parents and them. He smiles, wishing that he had smiling parents willing to take lousy pictures with him so he could frame and keep it as a memory of a simple time or when he was younger — or just a simple reminder, he, himself, a royal, has somewhat good parents that at least care for his well-being.
”Well, thank you.” The brunet walks over to the framed picture they have that’s standing on their nightstand, and picks it up and walks back to Dream with a smile on their face. “What has you so curious about this, may I ask?” They question, a non-mocking grin still present on their face.
He takes the frame from the other ones hand, analyzing it to come up with a answer. He could easily lie and say he was just a little curious on what he looked like back then, before he got a job as a soldier. But he can’t find himself forming a lie when he sees the genuine emotion plastered on Karl’s face, a emotion that seems like they are genuinely curious.
He huffs, “Well — um. I always wanted a picture done like this.” He looks back up, viridian being met with umber eyes that pull vulnerability out of him without mercy. He sighs loudly before continuing, “I want a reminder that my parents can smile to.”
He looks back up again, only to see curiosity being replaced with an understanding emotion that plasters across his face. Dream wants to question, but he only met the other a few minutes ago. Luckily, Karl picks up on the newfound interest and he smiles warmly.
”Me too.” They grab the photo out of rough fingers that previously had a grip. They analyze it themself, seeking out for their own story. “My mom tried to make my dad smile that day, instead it just ended up in a huge fight instead.”
Dream quirks a brow, “How did you take the picture with him smiling then?”
Karl huffs out a small laugh, looking back up to green that engulfs them in warm suns and hugs them tight with rays. He looks back down, holding exposure of pink exploding in their chest with bright sparks that fall and land. They walk back over to the nightstand, putting the frame down.
”He comes around in the end — he always does.” They smile down sweetly, “I sure do not miss that son of a bitch though.”
The cruel words almost take the prince by surprise, not ready for such vulgar to be spit out in such a sweet lace of tone. The other turns around after hearing a small hitch of breath that the blond was sure, was his. The other ignores it and stretches out instead, yawning quietly to not disturb others in the other rooms.
“I’ll chill on the swearing, your majesty. Don’t worry.” Karl smirks and it has Dream’s heart pounding more than he can comprehend.
He remembers leaving straight afterwards once he felt his heart spring straight out of his chest. He remembers quick apologies under rise of heated cheeks. He remembers the confused face the other showed — a slight hurt expression being slightly noticed in quick actions. He remembers it so vividly. He also remembers nights afterwards of confused thoughts running in his head for 60 seconds of each minute for 24 hours.
He remembers the first day they met outside of formalities. He hasn’t regretted anything since he met the other. Surprisingly, he has never been the happiest since before he had talked to the knight.
He remembers visiting town for just a little walk through, greeting kids and families that walked around for grocery shopping. He remembers during the end of the night, he went to the closest pub to get drowned in alcohol. Of course, he remembers, he dressed up in a disguise, hoping he would be treated as anyone else and not some stuck up royal.
He has never regretted that he chose to still go somewhere to get fucked over with liquor, even though it meant going across town since the closest pub was closed. He has never regretted the walk he took either, even though it was boring and he was already tired enough.
Once he walked in, he remembers a bell ringing, notifying that another customer has walked into the bar to order something. No one turned their heads to put focus on the man who entered — no one cared who he was, and Dream couldn’t feel more free. Even with the drunk bodies that surrounded around him, he still felt at home in this small warm place.
He went to take a seat at the bar, ordering something light to start off. After he took his first sip, another person came to slip into the bar stool next to him. He turned his head, only to be met with a sly smile of a familiar brunet. He felt lava in his chest, almost like his stomach was a volcano.
“Hello.” He greets the other with a soft smile on his face.
”Hello—“ Karl’s eyes trailed all over him, specifically the green silk cloak that engulfed his body. Their eyes met with particular viridian after a few moments. “Friend” They finish off, smiling into the shot glass they had in their grip.
Dream laughs at the blunt title. He feels like he is gonna erupt with all the fondness in his chest that he holds for the other. He has never been called someone’s friend before — and it felt good, he has to say.
Being titled as more than a prince, a royal, or a peer. He felt relaxed for the first time in a while. He knows he is supposed to be in the castle, with his father, learning how he has to tule the country with only one hand.
He’s not his father, he notes. He can’t wait to rule and be in charge of everything — to be a nice leader than his father ever was. But he doesn’t think he can be as prestigious as his father, he knows he won’t. He can’t rule with one hand, to make a choice with a lift of a finger and a play along words. His father is not a nice man to people with low class treasures, he’s serious and all about Royal responsibilities.
Dream is nothing like that. He likes to joke once and a while, to be someone who acts childish and not expected to act different, he likes to not dress properly. He wants to be admired, at the most, not feared. Karl doesn’t make him feel any of those, and he is thankful for it.
A soft song plays in the background, making everything go slower than it was previously. He doesn’t know this song, he doesn’t know any of them only being cooped up in a castle for all his life without visiting the village to hear music being played by people with talented fingers and voices to play or sing. It’s sad, he notes.
That doesn’t stop Karl though, putting their glass down with a loud, ‘clink!’ and holding out his hand to the blond with a slight offer on the tip of his tongue. Dream first looks at the dainty fingers that reach out to him and then looks at the curious brunet.
Karl scoffs at the oblivious prince, red tinting their cheeks with embarrassment and with the warmth that spreads in their veins.
“I’m asking you to dance with me to this song, you nimrod.” They lean down to grab the man’s hand in a tight grip, pulling him up off the seat to dance to the jazzy tunes that erupt in the room. “You know how to dance, don’t you, your majesty?” He smiles smugly, whispering it to make sure it’s only heard by the two of them.
He ignores everything else, the feelings, the people that surround them — green is only matched with sweet hazel. He lets himself be led out to the dance floor with a measly hold on his hands, soft palms engulfing his own rough ones. He lets the other hold onto his shoulders, and Karl lets him hold onto his waist.
He briefly remembers that his mother and father used to dance like this, in their room with only a few minutes to spare with each other.
They fall into a practiced rhythm, quickly learning each other’s steps. They know they should care about everyone in the same room as them, knowing they should hold this moment as a secret, but they also know that everyone out here is drunk out of their minds to even bare two looks at the two males that dance around with a mesmerized waltz.
Dream, as the prince, should know that what he’s doing is frowned upon others, and mostly his parents — more specifically his father. He knows, as the future king, that he shouldn’t encourage in these behaviors. But he can’t find himself to care when eyes look at him in a way that his mother and father look at each other. He can’t help but spur onto the looks he’s receiving from the person in front of him.
He feels the other lean in slightly and he can’t back away, already on his knees for the male that holds onto his shoulders like if he lets go, the world will crumble. He doesn’t lean in, but he doesn’t back away, and he finds himself tightening the grip on the others waist. His eyes flutter at the distance being shortened by each second, the brunet also being hesitant about the blond’s reaction.
The song ends and reality comes crashing back, knocking sense into the dirty blond. He lets go of the small waist that was presented to him previously. Dainty hands still don’t fall from his shoulders, he looks back down at the saddened brunet that looks up at him with sorrowful endearment, warmth only being laced with slight blue that he can only acknowledge as a saxe flame.
He can’t find himself to be crazy enough to let the brunet’s lips touch his in a fond meet in front of everyone that could potentially help to get his head on a spike or hanged by the tree down by the river. He doesn’t find either of them to be pleasant enough to risk — he only met Karl a few days ago. He would be the crazy one if he were already ready to put himself at risk to die for the other.
He doesn’t leave without whispering to them, “Until next time, Karl,” and leave with rushed thoughts creeping up into his mind. He left the other alone on the dance floor, jazz music still flowing but only to another song that he also doesn’t know and it irritates him, only finding more of a reason to go back to the castle, go to sleep, and await the next day that comes.
He knows he shouldn’t left the brunet like that, but he didn’t know what to do when he caught the sight of sober men walking into the bar and only focusing on taking their coats off. He didn’t want to risk being the center of attention of everybody with illegal holds.
He remembers it all. He remembers the way he felt on that Saturday, what led him onto the next time he met the other. The next time they see each other is nothing but Dreams fault. That night is the reason he finds himself writing a letter to the man that has stolen his heart without mercy.
He remembers himself knocking on the door that he remembers is owned by the brunet. He remembers standing outside the wooden entrance with embarrassing thoughts flooding his head. He remembers the door opening to reveal a tired Karl, one dressed in comfortable clothes that is only made to be slept in. He remembers fawning over how comfy the other looked and how cute they were when waking up to a disturbance at their door.
”Your majesty? It’s 3 am, don’t you have important responsibilities tomorrow?” They ask, a yawn edging at their question. They open the door more wide to let the other man come in and stand in the middle of his room. Blue only seeps through the window, no daylight coming through to make Dream see Karl in all their glory.
”Sorry to wake you like this. I just couldn’t sleep.” He says, newfound guilt being risen. He sees the other look at him curiously, silently asking if it was that important to disturb the others sleep. He feels himself fidget with his finger, antsy on the feeling that he might be kicked out. Karl notices this, of course they do.
”It’s fine.” They say, closing the door slowly making sure it wouldn’t wake his friends. They lock the door, leaving the blond surprised that his father even allowed them to have that privilege. They walk closer to the taller that awkwardly stands around, not knowing what to do. “Is something on your mind if you don’t mind me asking?”
The question is answered with silence, unknowing and curiosity making its way to make everything awkward for the blond. The walls only bounce off unanswered stillness, the blond doesn’t know how to answer. Something tells him to scream something honest so the whole kingdom could hear it, the other half tells him to shut his mouth and leave.
His brain is running faster than he can comprehend. The figure in front of him is patient and willing to wait, while the other is everything the brunet is not. He knows this, he should walk away and continue their only formal meetings, not whatever friendship they have formed out of thin air.
Truthful answers are illegal, false hopes are a cause for future death by a specific tree and rope. He knows they would make it painful and slow, considering it is a punishment. The whole kingdoms views is green and old, laws awaiting to be broken by thieves and criminals — and dare he say, a prince.
“No, not particularly.” Dream has never been a good liar, but he manages his untruthful words to turn at least a little bit trustworthy to make strangers fall for it. He knows Karl is not a stranger, to him at least. The other is more, but less than anything closer then friends. “I just needed company from someone who isn’t family.”
It’s half truthful, but the other half covers up a deep lie unwilling to be noticed yet, something he hides deep down that guilt awaits to open. It’s enough honesty to make Karl hum out of understanding. He knows his lies are noticeable, but if Karl notices, they don’t say anything about it.
”Makes sense, but at two in the morning? Is that really necessary?” They huff out a small laugh, “No offense Sir, but you look really tired — too tired to be awake at this hour.” They note, a quirk of cherry red lips forming into a small grin.
“Shut up.” Is all he says when he walks around the others room lazily, looking at everything closely.
He has never noticed how blue the room looks, bluish wardrobe, a rustic teal dresser. The blond cringes at the horrible colors the other surrounds himself with, but also knowing they probably couldn’t pay for the best.
He notices that the shorter has a lot of framed pictures on their dresser and nightstand. Dream smiles softly as he analyzes a picture they took with their family.
He hears light footsteps come from behind him, “You like looking around, don’t you?” A soft voice says, sounding close and comforting when the sun isn’t peering through the curtains, when people are sleeping and Dream is almost sure that he’s not that far behind them.
He smiles lazily, peering at the two people in front, arms hanging over shoulders, smiles that the god above them gave and presented. He hesitantly takes the frame into his hands, glancing over his shoulder, asking for permission silently. The other nods simply, gesturing for him to take it or do whatever he wants with it.
Dream grins breezily, looking back at the coal tinted frame, taking it into a calloused gripping palm. He looks at the other boy, someone who looks slightly like the other who stands closely near him, someone who also peers over at the picture, analyzing it themself.
He takes a note that might be a sibling next to them, noticing the comfortability between the two with just one frame and one moment taken into memorable statues.
“Do you miss them?” The dirty blond asks stupidly, looking back at the brunet who thinks of the question that hangs loosely in the silence that they both have formed over the few minutes they had.
”Um…” They think, head empty, “Yeah, I mean — I guess?” They say, more hinted as a question that they ask themself.
Dream quirks a brow at the questionable answer that somewhat answers his own question.
He looks back at the photo, putting it down back on the rustic structure after he had a quick look over everything going on in that moment that was captured.
”I guess?” He adds on, awaiting for more of a response.
”I mean, if he lived further, I would desperately miss him.” They say matter-of-factly, eyes rolling like it’s the obvious, and suddenly Dream gets why. “He lives in the village that’s close to here, so does the rest of my family, so I see them often.” They smile, voice coming out soft and mesmerizing.
Dream nods along, listening closely to each word that’s being said. “That’s quite lucky.” He grins, “Most chevalier’s here have family that’s in another kingdom, living with other rules, and being ruled by someone who is probably in their 90’s about to drop dead any second.” He huffs out a laugh that leads the other chuckling slightly at the bluntness the other gives.
”Yeah, I do consider myself lucky.” Karl admits, smiling fondly at the taller blond, hazel meeting viridian.
Dream reciprocates the grin, eyes staring into each other for what almost feels like hours. Everything in him tells him not lean down and make their lips meet in a sweet kiss that he has desires for since they first made eye contact.
He notices that the brunet’s cheeks had a crimson tint more then it did before. Their cheeks look warm, the prince’s hands are cold. Something pulls his hand down, to stay in place and just stand there and look like an idiot in front of someone he has soon to realize he might just give up the whole kingdom for.
It’s stupid, Dream thinks. They met only a few months ago and he is already head over heels. He knows he’s weak when the other flickers their eyes over his lips for a second. He knows he has fallen for something that is lawful when his hand isn’t being pinned to his side anymore, reaching out to touch warmth that he hasn’t felt in his years he has been alive.
It’s dangerous, when his palm meets rose, the other waiting for the blond to meet them in a sinful act. He finds himself not caring at the moment, what the future holds, what the kingdom will think when their newest king comes out of a glass, filled with cherry wine, closet, drenched in red.
Dream doesn’t even consider that maybe his parents would allow them to have two kings in line or maybe a queen who he doesn’t have to marry to rule. His father is old, so is his mother. He immediately knows their views, but it’s his fault for falling and falling for someone who has him at his knees so easily, being that someone is a man and not in the history books.
He meets the others lips in a intimate manner, the touch making heat flood through his veins, making him warm-blooded in seconds. His rough hand caress the side of the others face, not getting enough of the soft ivory skin below his own tanned fingers.
The kiss is sweet, he observes. The contact is everything he has waited for, hoping the shorter feels the same, pining over a touch that holds much warmth than Dream can give himself. He surprises himself that he could give so much affection he doesn’t have, not having it for himself to enjoy.
He thinks of it like a trade when Karl’s pink lips kiss his. A trade offer no one has even considered giving to the prince, making him believe that all he could do was give and give and never receive, which is stupid because he has been given things his whole life by people who were nameless and faceless. But this time, when he gives something close to him, vulnerable where he stands, he receives the same feeling back, not his own, but the one knight he gave it to.
He admires the others bravery, being bold enough to know someone high and mighty in administration does not mean that they act like they are, and Karl tells him that when they lift their hand to touch the blond’s neck to pull him closer.
He admires that the brunet had enough confidence to even talk to him and immediately get comfortable by treating the prince like he was just another person in the village, and the thought of that made him smile into the kiss which immediately got reciprocated, the fondness surrounding them in a pinned gaze.
The small smile they both had and the quiet laughters of the two made them pull away, intimacy still being found in their soft warm gazes. He had the sudden urge to lean in again, kiss them like he was falling in love all over again, but he held back, the feeling of the aftermath of the moment, curiosity rising up in his veins.
Their lips moved together in symphony, Dream recalls. It felt as if their lips were puzzle pieces awaiting for the perfect fit to slot through. He felt as if the world revolved around them, or just the opposite — everyone paying attention to something else while they were just in their own world, slipping into each other’s warmth and being caught so elegantly.
”I like you.” The shorter said bluntly, eyes still looking up at him like they see the world in him, red blaring his cheeks in a wonderful shade of strawberries. “A lot.”
Dream feels like his breath just got punched out of him, breathless where he stands, exposed by the eyes that are confident and brave and not standing down. His mind runs miles and miles, climbs over rooftops and jumps to each roof with neatness.
He knows he shouldn’t like the other boy that stands close, with eyes that could kill someone filled with hate so easily. But he can’t help but say, “I like you too.”
He remembers he went to bed that night as the happiest human being alive. He was lucky, finally he feels as thought he deserves it with all respect and love that he can hold in one grip.
He recalls that back then, he wasn’t ready for the month afterwards, after many secret dates that only held warmth for the both of them, none of them being exposed to people viewing as they share their love.
He knows he has never felt as happy as he was when they were in each others hold, hugging them like someone was gonna take them and leave.
He knew he wasn’t ready when his father told him across the dinner table that he had to find a queen to be king.
He knew all of the laws his father held to be standards, high standards to be king and ruler of the kingdom he left to be surely taken care of someone with good hands he taught.
He knows he is not good enough to be in charge of many people, but he doesn’t tell anyone else except for Karl who comforts him, praising him till he feels as though he might be worth the struggle.
Even if all of it comes down and crushes him with something in himself saying, ‘I told you so,’ and he knows he will have to agree — but even when that all happens, with a rope being ready in his wait, he can’t find it in himself to regret that he kissed the other with all the fondness he owned more than he held for anyone else in the world.
He doesn’t regret that he firstly fell in love with someone who cares for him and loves him till the end of eons.
He doesn’t mourn that he firstly fell in love with a man, because that man loves him back and that’s all he could be thankful for, even if it is criminal to be fond of someone who you hold so close to your heart, to be someone with the same flaws that you own.
He knows the way Karl looks up at him and he can feel himself falling and falling for the other every time the shorter holds his hand, whispers him sweet words, or kisses him like they have never loved someone in their life like the way they love the blond.
“I know.” He answers his father, face contorting in disgust as he imagines in himself with a marriage that is forced and uncomfortable in waking. His father glares at him like he knows something and that makes Dream tremble as he is exposed to his fathers parsimonious eyes.
The king clears his throat, obviously trying to get the younger boy’s attention, “I found someone for you.” He states simply, a tone that Dream knows he can’t argue with. He knew this moment would come, but he went out and found a sinful relationship himself, falling in love foolishly. “She’s sweet, you will like her.”
It’s an end of discussion. He knows he will have to tolerate her in the smallest ways to please his parents who look at him like they raised them for this one moment, knowing if they pushed him around enough, he will shape up and be what they want them to be. Dream fears he might not be what his parents look for, but he tries.
The dinner is silent after a few pass overs of words, awkwardness seeping through the corridors and into the dining room. He shifts and shifts to get comfortable but finding an impossibility to see even worth trying since his father is a close-minded bastard when he means business.
He knows his father wants a obedient son, not a rebellious teenager that he raised mistakenly by controlling rough hands.
He recollects the memory when he first met her.
Her beautiful hair shining gold in the bright day, the sun reflecting making strands of her hair glow. Her dress fitting perfectly over her petite and slim shoulders, making her put the beliefs of the wisdom Aphrodite to shame.
Her hands were soft to the touch, making them more delicate than they looked. Her eyes were the colors of the thrashing waves of the sea and the sky reflecting off the salted waters.
His father wasn’t wrong when he said she was nice, he almost believes that was an understatement when her first words were spoken in a soft delicate tone that could only be destroyed with a reject that would break a little more than just the sweet gaze.
She was always nice to the poor people in the kingdom, even going as far to buy the food they couldn’t afford.
Dream feels sinful, wrong, and just overall guilty that he isn’t at all attracted to the stunning angel that stands before him, offering a way out of future misery and letting him be on the waiting list to be at least thought of going through the gates.
When she holds out her hand, waiting for him to take it, he forces himself to do so, taking the hand with steady movements and uncomfortable butterflies that only make him feel sick.
They only knew each other for only about one month till the wedding was being commenced, awaiting for the, ‘I do’s’ to be heard by the future.
The day passed by in a blur, only remembering the hours afterwards when he is met with hazel eyes and a shorter figure standing before him with loving gazes, the same ones he gets from his newfound wife, only these ones being received with soft kisses and reassuring words.
He thinks, when eight months pass with newly weds and secret fond smiles being passed over by crowds and crowds of people who live in the village nearest to the castle and fellow peers, that he might just kiss the other on the spot.
The thought quickly diminishes when his father comes into view, readying for a speech that Dream knows all to well.
The speech is laced with words that give to much credit to the young prince more than he deserves, words presented with a smile that tells Dream that he has done good, that he isn’t as bad as he seems, and all he thinks that he is a criminal, broken laws to many times more than he can count.
He broke laws that he didn’t even realize till this moment that truly existed and that makes his palms sweat with worry and anxiety.
The crown is being offered and he can’t find it in himself to take it, freezing up at the power of that throne and crown holds that is being presented to him with giving hands.
His father continues his speech, confusion lacing his words, but playing it off by the second, something he has probably learned in his years and years of ruling the kingdom with a blink of an eye.
He looks down at the golden treasure being held so preciously in a steady grip, everyone waiting for him to just take the damn thing, on the edge of their seats awaiting for them to announce their new profound king. He finally finds it in him to grab it with delicate fingers, feeling as if he grabs it to harsh it will break into shambles.
He takes it from his fathers hold, hearing a soft sigh in relief, seeing as his father puts his hands down to announce the new king in his wakening. Everyone cheers loudly, getting off from their seats and clapping for their new ruler. His eyes immediately connect to the one male who is guarding the entrance, clapping away as he proudly smiles. Dream feels comfortable again with just one glance at his lover.
His wife comes up and gives him a big hug and tells him that she’s also proud of her husband, and Dream smiles, finding her presence for the last few months bearable and overall nice in a way. It doesn’t feel like a job anymore to be nice to her, he notes, seeing as being kind, sweet, and a loving husband, more or so a friend as he sees from his views, is just a immediate reaction when he sees her.
He told Karl, seven months ago, that they didn’t have to be jealous, resulting words sounding honest and they were and Karl found no reason to worry once they felt the others lips on theirs, binding love into one heated signature stone. He didn’t feel any piercing eyes that night, feeling the stern gaze making him exposed to the public.
As a rush of eyes, a blink in seconds, day and night passing over in a quick turn. He found it to be two years later once he found Karl on one knee in front of him, exposing a ring to hopeful green eyes that hold much happiness that can be shared between a golden piece of jewelry.
He feels warmth engulf his whole body when salty tears that pour out of his eyes when he takes the brunet off their knees to pull them up into a loving and memorable kiss, immediately giving the other an answer which resolves the others eyes to become more glossy and loving, and most importantly, approval from the person that matters most.
Dream has never been as happy as he was in that exact moment, finding a forever lover who would cherish him forever in a loving grace, warmth always seeping through the walls of the others house, but this time it feels more as drowning in intimacy.
Dream will always remember the moment when they were both just as happy as each other in that historical moment, realizing they both could be legally married, a law that Dream has changed ages ago, but not accepted.
Karl and Dream couldn’t find it in themselves to care about what the past laws were and why they existed in the first place, but to this moment today, they are both just fiancé’s, awaiting for the perfect moment to drop the bomb on the whole kingdom that will cause a ruckus, but he didn’t care.
Dream knew his loving wife knew they were just friends and nothing more and he made sure that was perfectly clear to the new queen, the other not even seeming as sad as he thought she would be, he didn’t care as much though.
He finds himself still staring at that one piece of paper he has laying out right in front of him. He knows it’s been years since the other has proposed to him, both still not ready to profound their love to the whole world, making sure they hold back all the future rumors and talk they will have, but they still love each other desperately and lovingly.
The white paper shows off he has only thought of two words, only writing who the horrible written letter was written to. He tries to think more about the years they have been together, what it meant to them in those moments, but his mind goes blank. Memories flood his mind and he can’t find it in himself to find a topic to talk about.
He puts his lantern away that glowed all over his paper, tinting it golden. Once it was out, the whole room dims and he finds himself walking towards the luring bed that pulls him in closer and closer, drowsiness finally making a entrance to his veins, his feet dragging hopelessly on the floor behind him.
He throws the covers over, finally making his way to lay into bed and think things through on future plans between the two, hoping it will work out with them, and he knows it will, knowing how much control and power he holds. He hopes he dreams of a solution that can be solved just that easy, but he knows it can’t but he finds hope within the people that he hangs around with.
He shuts his eyes, falling into a comforting sleep, awaiting for the next day that comes with more secrecy and sly glances being passed over and shrugged off.
He awaits to be called a newfound lover in history, secrets that were previously held, being introduced to the public and opening others eyes to a new way to love.
He hopes a new door for angels who are sinners will be open for others who walk gracefully and have loving eyes that only Dream sees, finding it more special then anything he has ever owned.
He waits to hold Karl in front of everyone to make sure that they know that they love each other in ways they don’t understand or will never understand.
He finds himself following the other till the ends of the world that has not desired to be met yet to only see the sunset setting in hazel loving eyes that could adore him forever.