#princebxte

        Why does she do this?

        “It’s my job,” she said, watching as he tore fabric for her sake. The familiar scent of whiskey caught the blonde’s nose as his flask opened. He wet the cloth, she reached out with a gloved hand to take the drink. Alcohol did well to numb pain from the inside, just as it worked to clean wounds.

        “If you’d been hit, I wouldn’t be doing my job right.” Helga gave a hiss of pain as the doused cloth made contact with her broken flesh. As strong as she was, pain was not something that the blonde was immune to.

        She watched the Prince’s face as he worked. Was that... regret? Remorse? He actually felt bad that she had gotten shot? Yeah, he was patching her up, but the eyes of others who had done the same did not hold nearly the same emotions. Getting hurt was part of her job. To them, it had been expected.

        He wrapped the wound - silk felt so much different against flesh than gauze - and Helga watched as fingers tied the make-shift bandage off.

        He practically melted into the kiss, and it was with all the strength that came with her profession that Helga didn’t do likewise. The goal had been a simple one: throw off those pursuing them with a public display of affection. It would make them look away and give them both time to bail.

        But his lips were soft and his hands held her as if this was a natural position. It was he who broke the kiss. For the best, Helga reasoned. She could do this for as long as it took the diversion to work, after all. But him? Probably not.

        “Public displays of affection make people uncomfortable,” she said softly, her own blue eyes glancing around. It worked. Helga grabbed his hand. “Come, your Highness. We don’t have much time.”

Send ‘*’ to kiss my muse full on the lips.

This was what women dreamed of. A handsome prince taking hold of them, kissing them deeply on the lips as a romantic gesture. It was the idea that had been pushed at girls since their childhood to want.

Unless, of course, that little girl was Helga Sinclair.

Gunmetal blue eyes widened in shock as the Prince’s lips met her own, and she gave a muffled scream. Leather-clad hands reached out for broad shoulders and pushed him away. Instinctively, her hand went to her gun.

Never without her consent.

{ ♚    Hans can’t believe that he was so stupid as to think that he could even fathom having so much as a close relationship with anyone of royal status. He let his guard down, he trusted the man and truly believed that the other genuinely cared about him...only to bring up how bad it was for this to even happen.

                   How this could cause issues for the kingdom...their...FAMILIES.

  A growl falls from his lips as he continues to stalk outside, his heart pounding angrily in his chest and his mind racing..calling himself a fool for even thinking that just maybe someone out there could care about, maybe even love an outcast like him. A black sheep that no one wanted, no even his own family. 

   The auburn haired male would ignore all the calls to his name, asking for him to stop and wait. 

                                                                Why should he? 

  To just be told even further how horrible it was for him to feel like this, for him to have...gotten close to the other man. One he dared to hope could understand him and see where he’s coming from. Chest heaves and tears start to brim at the corners of his eyes, rain would be ignored as it is the least of his problems right now.

  The pain echoing in his mind at the words ‘There’s no one out there who loves you’ and they never seemed to be truer than this. He was a fool, and felt just how Anna must’ve felt when he revealed to her he didn’t love her at all. The heart beating in his chest is enough to hurt him endlessly and want for it to be ripped out of his chest. 

                             Though what made him actually halt was the order to halt. 

  The loud booming voice of the other prince causes anger to raise in his chest and he spins around to glare angrily at the male, hands clenched at his sides. Chest heaving with heavy breathes that fall raggedly from clenched teeth. Pain, hurt and slight betrayal ring true in his eyes. 

  Why must he continue to pursue this? This...man who made him feel like someone could actually care about him...what more can he say to...hurt him. Opening his mouth to counter Hans finds all words taken from him as the words ‘I don’t want to lose you’ fall from the other male and the whole worlds stops. 

  Everything vanishes for a moment and all Hans can see is the Prince in front of him. The only man to reach out to him, to help him in his time of need when no one else would. Where all they would do is sneer at him and say it’s what he deserves. This man...doesn’t want to lose him? 

  Hans swallows thickly, and finds it hard to even move from his spot, even as Adam closes the distance between them. Speaking of how he’ll fight for them, how he’ll show how much Hans means to him. Shock isn’t even the proper way to describe how Hans feels right now. All he can do is stare, the pain subsiding to shock and confusion until the gentle kiss is placed at the corner of his lips and he felt the spark. 

 Fire through his system and it makes him want to crumble against the man in front of him, though he keeps his stance. The feeling that simple kiss gave him, is unable to be described in words that exist. He felt wanted, needed, and even...dare he think it, loved. 

  Swallowing thickly, Hans hears the soft whisper of those exact words and tears mingle with the rain on his face. In all his years, he’s never experienced any such feeling as this he is right now, as the arms would hold him fast against the others form, Hans would press his lips hard against the others as hands would entangle themselves in the soaked strands of the other man’s hair. 

  Letting his heart beat against the others chest and in time with his heart, it’s not something Hans ever expected to happen to him. Loneliness is the only thing he’s ever known, power and title is the only way he’d known to garner attention and even respect. Though this...this is on an entirely different level. He’s not sure how to react, so he lets his body and even heart over ride his mind. Not thinking as he feels himself press against the warmth of the other man. 

  Desperate for this to be true, desperate for the love to be real...if that’s what he’s feeling. If it is...Hans doesn’t want to let it go. Ever. A desperation is felt in the way he grasps Adam, close to him and how his lips would move against the others. Wanting to stay in the others hold for as long as he could, the feeling of want, and the desire to be needed something he wants to hold onto.

❣- What calms your muse down?

i looooooove that song// also he bb how you//

pu   ss in boots- p   uss n rider,