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    Summary

    For most of our existences we’ve been fighting, clawing at each other to rise above, to be the better one. We’ve lapsed before into temporary friendship, even into a comfortable state with romantic undertones, but nothing sexual. Nothing like this night. With a monarch and a court so inspired by everything and anything French I cannot get the personification out of my mind.

    For months my mind would wander to him, wonder about him. His long blonde hair easily came to my mind, the way it would sway about his waist elegantly as he walked or effortlessly fluttered about as he tossed it. His sparkling blue eyes filled with passion and intention, so alive and beaming with energy. His flawless skin that looks smooth and soft to the touch, perfect plush lips that could probably make me melt.

    or

    It's some time in the 1700s and England finds he can't stop thinking about France.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,211
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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