sharpen your blades

closed starter for @athamc

VIVIENNE: is it weird that i’m craving for something you cook, but don’t want to see your face? VIVIENNE: like, i want to see you cooking, but just not your face?! VIVIENNE: asking for my sanity’s sake.

FELIX: HOHOHOHO! This still feels like a dream come true. . .

FELIX: Saga is going on a date with me tomorrow~

FELIX: tell me i'm not dreaming pls asdFGHJKWIRRop

SAGA: hohoho? who the fuck are you santa claus?

SAGA: its not a date, idiot.

SAGA: more like a friendly hang out or whatever.

Branches rattled and leaves fell as Saga pushed his back against the trunk. He had to admit, the impact hurt like hell, but the pain was quickly overshadowed by a strange sense of pride over how strong she had become. As he felt her funnel – close to cut his breathing off with an arm, he naturally felt discomfort, but he managed to mask it with a condescending smirk. “You never told me you were into choking.” Looking down at her, his green eyes were sharp, dangerous; his    voice, low, smooth, taunting. Without a second’s warning, he pried her grip from his throat and pinned her down in his place, pinning both arms near either side of her head. “I wouldn’t have left you if I weren’t confident you could survive on your own.” Initially, he spoke to her as if he were scolding a child, but then his eyes zeroed in on her face. Flushed cheeks, blood-stained lips, bright eyes – she held the vibrancy of a vampire who’d just fed, the kind of bloom evident of a fresh kill. She was so fucking beautiful it was a stab to the gut just to look at her. If he weren’t as stubborn as he was, he would have repented his sins right then and there. When he opened his mouth again, he fought hard to keep his tone stern, but her eyes on him and the mere feeling of her body so close to his were enough to crack its smooth surface, allowing a very small ounce of warmth to trickle through. “I left you in the middle of a war where there were was an abundance of people who’d fucking beg for you to end their lives. And you knew me how I never slept, how I never stayed too long in the sun.” 

As a prince born and raised, Albert could just as easily maintain a regal air as he could breathe. He was cordial, prim, and proper — an image befitting his rank, as he pretended to be utterly interested in whatever words Desmond’s mouth were forming. “We have full confidence in you,” was what he heard Charlotte say. His fiancee was right beside him, but she sounded so far away. If the Monegasque prince were with some other entourage, he could train his undivided attention on any conversation without breaking a sweat. But there was a huge distraction standing beside Desmond, and she was a human-sized magnet manufactured specifically for his gaze. A gentle squeeze on his bicep, and he caught himself staring at Freya. Charlotte was expecting him to speak. Internally ashamed, he quickly tore his gaze from the ghost of a lover in front of him. “I assume it’s your first time in Monaco?” He looked back and forth from Freya to Desmond, but it was Freya’s voice he was hoping to hear.

The first meeting brief — a mere five minutes, so it was done with everyone on their feet. It was the last thing on Albert’s schedule that day, and so he retreated to his room after bidding each of the organizers goodbye with a firm shake of the hand. When it was time for Freya, he didn’t let his touch linger a second too soon, nor did he let his gaze reveal a sliver of recognition.

The moon had just pushed the sun into hiding when he heard a distinctive knock on the door. Three slow taps, followed by a slap, then another tap. It was his twin. Albert quickly jumped from his bed to let her in. Renee met him with warm eyes and an empathetic smile. Despite having cheeks as round as her very pregnant belly, she still was every inch as beautiful as before she married. She buried herself into his chest, wound her arms around his waist. Albert could feel his tenseness ease from the embrace alone. He took care to maintain a bit of distance, however, as he did not want to crush his nephew. “Albie, you poor thing.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Re, why are you crying?” With his thumb, he ran soothing circles on the nape of her neck. “Because the love of your life finally came back, but only to make sure you wed another woman perfectly, that’s why.” Without warning, a buzzing warmth spread from his cheeks down to his chest. “She’s not — I’m not —“ Renee tilted her head up to throw him the stink eye. “Oh, shush, save that for Charlotte. I know how your heart eyes look.” Albert was dumbfounded. She pulled out a folded piece of paper from the inner pocket of her night robe. “Here’s a map of the palace and its secret tunnels. I drew a line from your room that leads to a hidden passageway opening up to Freya’s.” Now, it was Albert’s turn to give her the stink eye. “Secret tunnels? Really, Re?” When she was younger, she used to use them for sneaking in and out the palace undetected. “What?” She smiled an innocent smile, but her mischievous eyes gave her away. Albert didn’t know what in fresh hell had overtaken his mind when he disappeared into the tunnels.

Is this your first time in Monaco? No. Yes. No? Freya opened her mouth to speak but found no voice to let the words out. Feeling Albert’s gaze on her was enough to make her heart hammer a loud, steady beat that made it near impossible to pay attention to anything else. “Yes. But Freya used to travel far and wide. I’m certain Monaco was one on her list. Wasn’t it Freya?” Desmond’s voice cut through the pounding in her ears. She could only smile and say to nobody in particular, “still as in love with it as the first time.” 

After arguing with Desmond in whisper shouts and the near-lethal beating she gave him with what could have been the most expensive pillow she has ever touched, Freya found herself retreating to her own bedroom. She was more than thankful that today was over. One second she was staring up at the gilded mouldings of the ceiling, and the next, she was thinking about Albert. Countless times Freya has tried to convince herself that Albert was another of the memories she would leave behind, another passing infatuation that would fade once she moved to the next country, another short-lived romance she would forget soon enough. But even after all the time they spent apart, Freya still found herself longing for the warmth of Albert’s arms and replaying the memory of his lips on hers. The twinging in her chest grew into mildly painful spasms, and the seemingly boundless room suddenly felt confining.

Dragging herself out of bed, she opened up one of the large windows that lined the walls. The cold, night air brought enough comfort to ease her nerves. Going here was a bad idea then, and it seemed even worse now, knowing how her heart reacted to Albert’s presence. Just seeing him from afar made Freya want to run and throw herself onto him. She only met Albert for a mere few minutes, and it was already too much of a pain to bear. How could she possibly take weeks and weeks more of this? Maybe if she begged Desmond hard enough, he would let her book a flight home. She ran her hands across her face in frustration.

Renee did not expect his words, at all, so when Theon said them, she found her tongue had lost its function. Searching his eyes for any inkling of a lie, she found none. Even after everything, he still had the innate ability to puncture out the air from her lungs. By the time he was finished talking, she already found it a chore to breathe. “It doesn’t have to be just a dream.” For the first time since they’d met, her voice was small, barely audible. She felt vulnerable standing there beneath his gaze. A million thoughts roared in her mind, but they all were about how much she wanted him, how she was willing to screw over her own ego just for an hour in his arms. 

Her feet seemed to detach from her mind. She was surprised when she realized they were bringing her closer to him, wordlessly delivering him the heart she took all pains to chain and guard all those years. She took a deep breath, reaching high up behind his neck, bringing him closer to her height. All the while, she couldn’t break her gaze on his, not that she wanted to. God, she could stare at those hazel hues all day and never tire of how easily they electrified her nerves. All of a sudden, she felt a warmth on her cheeks, a new kind of warmth apart from the one that caused her skin to blossom red. That’s when she realized her tears had long fallen, and she was crying the whole time Theon was stripping her heart bare for her to see. She found herself burying her face in his neck, nuzzling his soft skin, clinging to him as if he’d shatter the second she lets go. On the outside, she was a trembling wet mess, but her chest felt the freest in months. It were as if his familiar scent was enough to make her breathe again. “You smell like home,” she mumbled with a chuckle that barely got through all her crying. “You know, I never really knew what a home was until I got to know you.” She placed a lazy yet affectionate kiss on the nook where his neck and jaw met. The events of the day had really drained her. “We really fucked up our wedding, didn’t we? I wish this talk could have happened before it.”

At first, it was the ebb and flow of the waves that he could hear. But the pounding of his heart slowly overpowered every other sound there was. Letting himself be vulnerable in front of Renee was a struggle enough. Watching the tears fall from her face was another. His heart was hammering a loud, steady rhythm that it took him a second to believe what Renee had just said. It doesn’t have to be just a dream. He thought it was another illusion his desperate mind had conjured. After all, nobody in their right mind would absolve his wrongdoings that easily. When Renee took a step towards him, and the warmth of her skin met his, Theon felt himself weaken. He had to snake his arms around her waist to steady himself. It was as if the only thing that kept him together was how tight Renee hung onto him.