Sometimes things change.

Cal gave a short nod and spun on his heel, grabbing a cup from behind the counter on his way. He started brewing a small tin of espresso before quickly heating up some milk for the drink. "So you're new around here, then?" he asked, plucking a variety of syrups from their shelves. He juggled the bottles a bit before pouring the thick syrup in to the mix, making quite a show out of the otherwise simple task. 

"Depends on who you’re talkin’ about," he muttered, his eyes drifting to the side. “If you mean just the people in the kingdom, iunno that they’d notice if I disappeared one day. Matter of fact, doubt they’d care." He gave a small shrug of indifference. “I’m just the king’s illegitimate kid."

"Then I suppose there is something I am not understanding…" He had said it…depends? Did he mean to say family? Friends? Could it have been possible that in the year they had parted from one another, he had found someone?

Cal had never fully accepted the bravery and sacrifice Darren always injected into the story. After living in the Stone Kingdom for a few months the young prince had no trouble believing that they’d invaded Atelpo to take the man away. What he did doubt was the fight Darren so passionately detailed, saying he had kicked and punched, put a guard through the living room wall. Cal had lived in that small cottage for eighteen years and never once was there any sign that the walls had been damaged or patched.

"The snobs who run this place don’t like it that I’m different than them," he continued, “but they’d like it even less if Darren kicked the bucket without anyone with these to take his place." He gestured to his eyes, the unique blend of blue and green that indicated his seat at the head of the kingdom. 

This explanation was genuine, and he did fear that if he were to run he’d never be able to have the life he’d imagined for himself; a small village with a small amount of people, no travelling, maybe a family of his own. He’d be afraid of putting anyone he traveled with in danger and, consequently, wind up alone again. He would rather be trapped in complete grayness than to have to face that. 

What was odd about his explanation, though, was that it seemed completely matter-of-fact. He didn’t talk about his family often, and when he did it was with the same detachment as someone explaining what they’d read in a book. He didn’t notice it; once Joanna had told him it was a ‘defense mechanism’, though he wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that. 

"I see…" Poppy’s voice was soft and distant even to her own ears. It was not just this feeling of obligation he held, but also a burden of fear. This life may not be what he wants, but these feelings clearly outweighed his own, almost as if they haunted him. But more than that. Could it be that these feelings were…?

"Calvin." Poppy now spoke before she realized herself what she was asking. “Could it be you’re still hiding something from me?"

He deflated, tangling his granite hand in his hair. "What, you mean the girl I was sayin' before?"  He tried to sound nonchalant but it was easier said than done. "I thought I said she doesn't matter." 

He could feel it in his stomach, the guilt bubbling and churning. How could he write the young girl off like that? If not as a romantic partner than a friend. "--I mean," he let out a long sigh, "she can go home whenever she wants. She ain't keepin' me here." 

For Joanna to go home was to leave to an overbearing mother and an arranged marriage. But it was to a kingdom she loved dearly and a job she honored. Many nights he'd stayed away wondering why Joanna had followed him to this place. He'd wished she hadn't as he realized he was weighing her down. But she wanted to be with him, she told him every day, and she seemed to make the best of their situation. With the many twists and turns he had put her through during their time together he felt he had no right to up and leave her without her requesting it. He almost laughed as he realized the obligation he felt to Joanna was very similar to the one he felt towards Suco in his youth. Always staying with the one he should be with, never striving for the one he wanted. 

He had spent his life running. He had run from the scary things, like love and responsibility and reality. It wasn’t something he was proud of. When he had been swept blindly into his current position he had told himself that he would stay and fulfill the foreign duties. He’d told himself he’d hang up his running shoes and hunker down. Whether this was because of an obligation he felt or because he was tired he hadn’t been sure of at first. Now he was fairly certain it was a mixture of both.

But now the gray walls consumed him. They whined with age and dullness, moaning words of discouragement.  You don’t belong here. You’re too stupid. You’ll fall apart. Any spark of color or life he ignited was snuffed by them and the people who inhabited them. Cal was almost positive that these people, even those at the bottom of the caste system, had no interest in improving the way they lived.

Cal had spent his years of childhood playing grown-up. For three years he had wandered aimlessly by himself, trying to convince himself that no, he wasn’t lonely. Very often he had just accepted what he was given, and these engulfing gray walls had come with the newest installment and he hadn’t voiced his arguments.

Poppy’s hands felt restless and clammy at her sides. Never before had she been in such an uneasy silence. In fact, growing up, her mothre had taught her that there was always a right and wrong time for silence, but now, Poppy had no idea what to do.

But finally, sick of the silence and chill in the air between them, Poppy opened her mouth slowly and spoke no louder than a whisper. “I see. Then do you feel you have some kind of obligation to these people?"

"Depends on who you’re talkin’ about," he muttered, his eyes drifting to the side. “If you mean just the people in the kingdom, iunno that they’d notice if I disappeared one day. Matter of fact, doubt they’d care." He gave a small shrug of indifference. “I’m just the king’s illegitimate kid."

"Then I suppose there is something I am not understanding…" He had said it…depends? Did he mean to say family? Friends? Could it have been possible that in the year they had parted from one another, he had found someone?

Cal had never fully accepted the bravery and sacrifice Darren always injected into the story. After living in the Stone Kingdom for a few months the young prince had no trouble believing that they'd invaded Atelpo to take the man away. What he did doubt was the fight Darren so passionately detailed, saying he had kicked and punched, put a guard through the living room wall. Cal had lived in that small cottage for eighteen years and never once was there any sign that the walls had been damaged or patched.

"The snobs who run this place don't like it that I'm different than them," he continued, "but they'd like it even less if Darren kicked the bucket without anyone with these to take his place." He gestured to his eyes, the unique blend of blue and green that indicated his seat at the head of the kingdom. 

This explanation was genuine, and he did fear that if he were to run he'd never be able to have the life he'd imagined for himself; a small village with a small amount of people, no travelling, maybe a family of his own. He'd be afraid of putting anyone he traveled with in danger and, consequently, wind up alone again. He would rather be trapped in complete grayness than to have to face that. 

What was odd about his explanation, though, was that it seemed completely matter-of-fact. He didn't talk about his family often, and when he did it was with the same detachment as someone explaining what they'd read in a book. He didn't notice it; once Joanna had told him it was a 'defense mechanism', though he wasn't quite sure what she meant by that. 

Thing 4 gracie

Also tumblr is a dumb so here’s the actual size in case it looks weird

Poppy looked back to the taller prince, eyes questioning. If she were to leave, would he follow? Or did he feel such obligation to this kingdom that he was willing to stay regardless of his own desires? There had been a time when Poppy had felt such dedication to her own kingdom. She would have stayed up all night, perhaps missing more than a few days worth of sleep just to make sure everything ran smoothly, and, truth be told, there wasn’t a time when she missed that fire and determination she had long since lost. And if Calvin felt that…She would want him to hold onto it for as long as he could.

Coming to a halt on the stairwell, the former princess turned back to her love, brows creased. “Calvin…" For the first time in her life, it seemed, Poppy was not altogether sure what to say, or how to put her thoughts in to words. The feeling coiled around her middle, almost stealing her breath. “Do you…Do you like living here?"

He had spent his life running. He had run from the scary things, like love and responsibility and reality. It wasn’t something he was proud of. When he had been swept blindly into his current position he had told himself that he would stay and fulfill the foreign duties. He’d told himself he’d hang up his running shoes and hunker down. Whether this was because of an obligation he felt or because he was tired he hadn’t been sure of at first. Now he was fairly certain it was a mixture of both.

But now the gray walls consumed him. They whined with age and dullness, moaning words of discouragement.  You don’t belong here. You’re too stupid. You’ll fall apart. Any spark of color or life he ignited was snuffed by them and the people who inhabited them. Cal was almost positive that these people, even those at the bottom of the caste system, had no interest in improving the way they lived.

Cal had spent his years of childhood playing grown-up. For three years he had wandered aimlessly by himself, trying to convince himself that no, he wasn’t lonely. Very often he had just accepted what he was given, and these engulfing gray walls had come with the newest installment and he hadn’t voiced his arguments.

Poppy’s hands felt restless and clammy at her sides. Never before had she been in such an uneasy silence. In fact, growing up, her mothre had taught her that there was always a right and wrong time for silence, but now, Poppy had no idea what to do.

But finally, sick of the silence and chill in the air between them, Poppy opened her mouth slowly and spoke no louder than a whisper. “I see. Then do you feel you have some kind of obligation to these people?"

"Depends on who you're talkin' about," he muttered, his eyes drifting to the side. "If you mean just the people in the kingdom, iunno that they'd notice if I disappeared one day. Matter of fact, doubt they'd care." He gave a small shrug of indifference. "I'm just the king's illegitimate kid."

Poppy allowed herself to grin and took Calvin’s hand. “If you behave yourself, I’ll think about it~” And with this said, she removed his hand from beneath her shirt. But, before placing it back at his side, Poppy brought his hand to her lips, biting the side of his index finger lightly. 

Poppy looked back to the taller prince, eyes questioning. If she were to leave, would he follow? Or did he feel such obligation to this kingdom that he was willing to stay regardless of his own desires? There had been a time when Poppy had felt such dedication to her own kingdom. She would have stayed up all night, perhaps missing more than a few days worth of sleep just to make sure everything ran smoothly, and, truth be told, there wasn’t a time when she missed that fire and determination she had long since lost. And if Calvin felt that…She would want him to hold onto it for as long as he could.

Coming to a halt on the stairwell, the former princess turned back to her love, brows creased. “Calvin…" For the first time in her life, it seemed, Poppy was not altogether sure what to say, or how to put her thoughts in to words. The feeling coiled around her middle, almost stealing her breath. “Do you…Do you like living here?"

He had spent his life running. He had run from the scary things, like love and responsibility and reality. It wasn't something he was proud of. When he had been swept blindly into his current position he had told himself that he would stay and fulfill the foreign duties. He'd told himself he'd hang up his running shoes and hunker down. Whether this was because of an obligation he felt or because he was tired he hadn't been sure of at first. Now he was fairly certain it was a mixture of both.

But now the gray walls consumed him. They whined with age and dullness, moaning words of discouragement.  You don't belong here. You're too stupid. You'll fall apart. Any spark of color or life he ignited was snuffed by them and the people who inhabited them. Cal was almost positive that these people, even those at the bottom of the caste system, had no interest in improving the way they lived.

Cal had spent his years of childhood playing grown-up. For three years he had wandered aimlessly by himself, trying to convince himself that no, he wasn't lonely. Very often he had just accepted what he was given, and these engulfing gray walls had come with the newest installment and he hadn't voiced his arguments.

Poppy allowed herself to grin and took Calvin’s hand. “If you behave yourself, I’ll think about it~” And with this said, she removed his hand from beneath her shirt. But, before placing it back at his side, Poppy brought his hand to her lips, biting the side of his index finger lightly. 

Being tangled in her was heavenly; it made him feel as though the tons of stone tied to his ankle had been undone. Her soft skin was wonderfully warm beneath his fingers, her lips delicious. His hand ran over her body, touching her, groping her, taking in whatever pieces of her he could reach. He was about to just remove her t-shirt when she spoke.

His intentions halted abruptly as he pulled just barely away from her to study her face. How many girls had said that to him? The number was almost embarrassing. He’d known even standing in front of some of them that it was hollow, just three words they thought they were supposed to say someone they found attractive. He was no better, having emptily given them back without hesitation.