#also lil tidbits about-a-me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gracieheartspedro · 1 month ago

Text

Me and The Devil

pairing: qz!joel miller x fem!reader

how to help the palestinians and what it means to write for the last of us characters

description: joel seeks out revenge on the man who stole from him. he finds you in the process. 14k words

warnings: mdni!, dark content, DUBCON, joel is a bad man, no mention of age (but joel is older than reader), murder, weapon use (g*ns), mentions of drug and alcohol, excessive alcohol consumption from reader, nicknames for reader (sweetheart, little one, etc.), stockholm syndrome, forced withdrawals from alcohol, mentions of non-con, forced proximity, physical violence/assault, reader is freaky and insane, reader has a vagina and boobs, sub!reader, dom!joel, orgasm denial, masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, cumplay/cum eating, dirty talk, name calling, spanking. PLEASE LISTEN TO THE WARNINGS.

author’s note: hi everyone! this fic came to me literally like... january of last year. it sat in the docs forever. and then my wonderful and beautiful friend @amanitacowboy told me to pick it back up and it spiraled from there. she also helped me edit, so i've forever indebted to you, lindsey!! it's probably the meanest joel you will get from me. some of the story has loose ends, but it's intentional *brow wiggle* (; also thank you @pedgito for listening to me blab about this shit forever. lindsey and ali have heard every detail and tidbit in this fic, I swear. thank you for putting up with me! anyway, hope you dirty lil whores enjoy this one!

You thought he was a myth.

The crime-riddled streets of the Boston QZ seemed to lace different stories about him together. You could not understand how a pill dealer could also kill countless guards and top honchos. People would conjure up the wildest lies about the man, so you were always morbidly curious.

You would sit in your apartment organizing the weapons you and your partner laundered through the streets of the QZ, pondering what it would be like to meet the man. You were never the one to deliver the weapons, only ensuring you were getting what you paid for. Your partner, Roger, would dispense the weapons to God knows who.

It was enough to get you by. You never ran out of rations and your alcohol dependency was never a problem.

You were too young to be this beat down. That’s what Roger would tell you, at least.

But the truth of the matter was that before the QZ, you were free-roaming the US with no purpose. You killed a lot of people. When you arrived at the QZ with an ounce of ‘normalcy’ within your reach, you promised yourself never again. The darkness you harnessed would have to be forced down, sitting in the very pits of your being.

When you met Roger, he just needed someone to live in his apartment and watch his stash when he was gone. You did just that and eventually, you formed an odd bond with the older man. He would let you count his rations and drink his liquor. Four years later, you depended on him to bring you back alcohol in return for your watchful eye. If a shipment came in late, you would panic, thinking your addiction would get cut off. You needed something to numb the scrambling thoughts, violent tendencies, and crippling anxiety.

After one tough deal, Roger stumbles back to your shared apartment, venting about the man.

“Fuckin’ Joel screwed me again. Gave him two .22’s and the motherfucker shorted me a bottle of Oxys.”

You were already too far gone to listen to the rest of the rant, finding yourself dozing off on the couch. The alcohol too often consumed you, sending you into dark nightmares that would have you waking up in the dead of night screaming.

By the time you woke up, though, Roger was no where to be found. Him being gone was not the worrisome part, though.

No, what worried you was all the drugs and guns he left out on display.

Springing up from your spot on the couch, you instantly get to work hiding the paraphernalia. When you grab a handgun from the table where you remember Roger sitting before you close your eyes, you feel eyes on you.

You are still drunk and now your stomach is churning. You feel like you may throw up.

There’s a figure standing by the window. Too tall to be Roger.

Your instant dazed reaction is to hold the gun up, and point at the large man who stands in your messy bedroom. You blink away the sleep that’s still in your eyes and stumble a bit as the intoxication still riddles your bones.

“You were sleepin’ when I came in,” His voice is slow and deep and it sends chills down your forearms.

“Who are you?”

You managed to sound pretty confident, even though you were scared shitless. You had not been so rattled since you almost got bit by some infected a year ago. You can make out his clothes, but that’s about it. Dirty jeans, an old green flannel with holes, and dark brown boots.

“‘M Joel. Roger ever told you about me?”

He finally turns to face you. You’re shocked to see a handsome dark-haired man and not some damaged old mug. His eyebrows are perpetually furrowed it seems, but you could also tell he was annoyed you were pointing a loaded gun at him.

You were so terrified, you could not even speak.

He puts a hand up, holding it over the barrel of the gun. “You shouldn’t be pointin’ that at me, sweetheart.”

You just nod, slowly putting down the weapon. You did not want problems with him. You knew what he was capable of.

You also knew your aim would be off if you did try to shoot, still feeling like you were rocking on a boat.

“Sorry,” You mutter, bringing the gun down and to your side. You swallow hard as his eyes rake your entire body, “Yes, he’s told me about you. Other people have, too.”

He looks pleased with that response. He steps away from the window and begins to saunter over to you. His footfalls are heavy. You assume it is because of his filthy brown boots. Or maybe it was the intimidation factor he was playing for you. He did not need to scare you, because you were fucked up and not on your game. He could kill you at any time. Why has he not killed you yet?

“What have people said about me?”

You gulp, sucking in a whiff of his musk. He somehow still smelled good, even though it looked like he had been rolling in the dirt. His hair was pretty greasy but the curls laid perfectly on both sides. He looks like a guy you would avoid in the street, especially in this QZ. The attractive ones were usually the ones who would take advantage of any woman who looked their way.

“They said you’re dangerous,” You manage, holding the grip of the gun a bit tighter, “That you have killed a-a lot of people.”

“Yeah,” Is all he says, before stepping an inch closer, “Yeah, I have.”

You can not look away from him. You are so rattled at the fact that he is good-looking. You vividly remember hearing a couple of dealers talk about how formidable he was and for some reason, you mocked up a man who looked like The Joker from Batman.

He inspects you and your gun and crosses his arms, almost like he is guarding himself. “Now tell me… What did Roger say when he came home last night? I need to know how to handle this situation without spillin’ any more blood.”

You start to panic a bit, but you know you can’t be rash with your emotions. You did not want to be more blood that Joel Miller spills. You did not need to be a notch in his belt.

But you also did not want to rat out Roger. He had done so much for you and you knew deep down, he cared for you in his own sick ways. If you told Joel everything, would that come at cost to him?

What were you thinking? He was a dead man.

He notices your demeanor change and his eyes soften. “Don’t worry, little one. I don’t kill just anyone. Unless they cross me. You haven’t crossed me, have you?”

You do not know why or how, but tears start to spill from your eyes. You know you are not guilty of doing him wrong, but you have heard before that it does not matter in his eyes. By proxy, you are associated with the man who fucked him over. You would be next.

“I have not crossed you, Mr. Miller,” You start to slur a bit, your face getting wet quickly with more tears, “Roger just said you fucked him over. I was too fucked up to hear the rest. Said you didn’t give him enough oxys.”

Joel raises one hand and grabs the bottom of your chin. His skin is rough and callous against your sheeny skin. His whole aura gives off danger. You are too afraid to look at him. You’re trembling, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“That fucker stole them all, that’s why. When I tried to get him to confess his wrongdoings, fucker dipped out of there,” He explains, using his thumb to push one of your falling tears, “We followed him and luckily he swallowed too many pills even to realize we were breaking in. You were pretty out of it, too.”

“I w-was d-drinking last n-night,” You knew you had to get ahold of yourself. You were like sand in his hands, slipping right through his fingers. You were so easy to get information out of. “Where did you take him?”

Joel clicks his tongue, tilting your face so your eyes would look into his, “Don’t worry bout that, sweetheart.”

“Is he going to die?”

“Probably.” He states plainly, his eyes scanning your figure, “You’re going to show me where his stash is and ‘m gonna take back what’s mine.”

Your heart sinks to the floor. Roger was all you had. Without him running the guns and ammo, you had no way of income. You could not do these things yourself, especially now that Joel Miller knew who you were. No one would come near you when they heard he paid you and Roger a visit.

“I’ll show you,” You respond, trying to steady your voice. “Are you going to kill me?”

It was selfish. With him admitting to having to kill Roger, you knew you were fucked either way. Without a dealer or runner, you had no earnings. You were going to rot away in this apartment, dying from starvation. Joel killing you would be a mercy killing and from the sounds of it, he did not show much mercy.

“Just tell me where everything is.”

You shake your head as you step back away from him. Your instinct is to hand him the gun in your hands, proving to him that you are not a real threat. You grab the barrel and give him the grip, shaking it in his direction. “Here.”

He stares at you, the divots on his forehead still prominent. He slowly lifts his flannel. You first see his hairy tummy and then you see he has a 9mm strapped in his waistband. “Don’t need it, sweetheart.”

You keep the gun extended out to him, “You can have another.”

There’s a beat of silence, a bitterness in the air.

“Are you stalling?” Your blood runs cold. You were not, you were just afraid and unsure of yourself. You also assumed he would want your weapon so you would not use it against him. So many assumptions run through your head, that you are not even aware you are creating more uncertainty for him.

Your eyes drop, looking at the gun. “No, sir. Here… Follow me.”

You turn on your heels, walking back out to the dining room, right off the kitchen. You scoot the table away from the rug, the ammo and pills on the table vibrating as it moves. Joel watches your every move, the same unimpressed expression written on his face. You put the gun down on the table before you get on your knees at the corner of the rug. You pull it back, revealing a large trap door Roger installed before you moved in with him. It had a deadlock on it that was only able to be opened with a code.

You think for a moment, your muddled brain trying to remember the numbers.

8-3-6-7-1-9-6-9.

You say it out loud as you open it. When it clicks, you pull down and unhook it. As you toss it away from you, you hear Joel clear his throat. “Move.”

You instantly throw your hands up, crawling back onto your knees and sliding away from the trap door. You glance back at the tall man, seeing he has his gun trained on you. You did not even hear him pull it out. You sit back, pressing your shoulders into the wall opposite of the entrance of the storage cut-out. It’s lined with different drugs, handguns, some shotguns, and lots of pornography.

Joel chuckles darkly, looking into the unit. “Seems like you two are freaky, huh?”

You never assumed Joel thought Roger was your lover, but the inclination made you want to throw up. You shake your head, “He was. Not me.”

His addiction never really affected you in any way. He saved those vices for when he was alone. You do recall one night accidentally walking in on him doing something very disturbing that was forever etched inside your brain. Jerking off over a pillow with a magazine full of very young girls. You never looked at him the same way after that.

Roger was sick in the head, but he gave you drugs. He gave you alcohol. He gave you a place to stay.

Joel clicks his tongue, crouching down to loot through your stash. “You’re too young for’a man his age, anyway. Too pretty.”

The hairs on your arms and shoulders raise at such a comment. You cock your head to the side, watching the man curiously. He thought you were pretty.

He does not say anything else the rest of the time he is picking up bags of pills. He inspects each one, sniffing some of the bags as he does. The illumination from the window in the dining room lights up his face with golden stripes. It made you take note of his amber eyes. They were not dark brown in the sunlight. You can hear people on the street from the partially shattered panels, some dragged-out footsteps, and some hushed conversations. Screaming for help would be no use, people hear women screaming in the streets in broad daylight and do nothing. This QZ was not about justice. It was every man for himself.

Joel stands up, tucking his gun back into his waistband. His eyes laser toward you and you feel his gaze pierce you. “Stand up, you’re comin’ with me.”

You do not try to hide your fear. While you knew better, you silently hoped that he would just shoot you here, let you drown in your own blood in the comfort of your own home. But he was going to take you to a secondary location. You would be dying on his terms.

You push yourself up off the floor, your feet stuttering as you walk over to him. “Can I put on some shoes?”

He nods almost robotically. He watches you carefully as you drag yourself across the living room. You start to realize how torn up the place really is. Roger must have put up a fight because the side table is in pieces on the rug. You step around the splinters and grab your boots. After you tie up your laces, Joel is yanking you up by your bicep and dragging you into the dark alley your apartment opens up into. You were so fucked.

Joel is a harsh man, but he does not kill you.

You did not understand why he kept you around. You were eating his food, occupying a room in his apartment, and you were going through horrific withdrawals. He refused to give you an ounce of alcohol. The first couple nights at Joel’s, you were so sick that you violently shook for a whole day straight. You begged Joel through the door to shoot you and put you out of your misery. It was the worst feeling in the world. Your heart felt like it may beat out of your chest.

After the third day, your shakes had subsided and your mind was a bit more clear. You still felt like shit, but it was tolerable enough that you just laid in bed and stared at the floral wallpaper in your new bedroom.

You did not mind being spared, but being locked away was almost worse than death. You noted the mold smell the day you arrived in Joel’s apartment. You could not stop smelling it, no matter what you did. You kept telling yourself you would get used to it, but it always lingered. He restricted you to a bedroom where the window was completely caged. You had spotty natural light that only really peaked through in the evenings.

Joel would bring you a small meal every morning, usually stale bread and a mug of water. On rare occasions, his footsteps would stomp over to your rotting wooden door and he’d unlock the door to feed you for lunch. That only happened twice, though, and it was a bare-bones meal. But every night, right after sunset, he would barge in with a Spam sandwich and a cup of ice water. You would sit on the rusty framed-out bed as he sat in the armchair in the corner of the room by the window. Occasionally he would have a sandwich for himself, other times he would just sit there and watch you slowly eat the meal he provided.

And for some sick reason, you always thanked him.

He would never reply, his jaw slack and arms crossed. You only heard his voice a handful of times since he brought you here.

After two weeks of isolation and staring contests over dinner, Joel finally asked you a question after you finished your Spam sandwich. “Do you want to shower?”

You had not washed yourself in weeks and you could smell yourself. The idea of being able to shower was so appealing, that you actually smiled as he asked it.

Joel guided you across his expansive apartment into his bedroom. The entire place was falling apart, but Joel’s room seemed completely untouched by the times. It smelled like pine as soon as you bounded through the threshold. His bed was made up perfectly, with two pillows on each side. His side table only had one single lamp and a novel that’s title was in another language. Joel snatched you away from soaking up his oasis and forced you into the dated bathroom. He shuts the door behind him, clicking when he rattles the handle.

You swallow, “Are you joining me?”

He shakes his head, turning and grabbing the bar of soap on the edge of the vanity. “No, ‘m just making sure you don’t try anything.”

You narrow your eyes at him, not completely believing him. Joel had not made any moves towards you, so you are not sure why you are suddenly skeptical of his intentions. Even if he did try something, you knew you could not do anything about it.

You were at Joel’s mercy. You did not completely comprehend why he was locking you down in his home and you did not get why you were just going along with it. You used to be a ferocious fighter, but after everything with Roger, you did not know where else you would go if it was not with Joel.

You turn your back to him, hesitantly undressing. Your clothes were disgusting, stained with sweat marks that you left when you were going through withdrawals. As you drop them onto the cold tile, Joel clears his throat.

You cannot remember the last time you were nude in front of another man. Another person. It had to be over 10 years. “I got ya some new clothes. I’ll grab them when you get in the shower.”

You just nod. While you were grateful for new clothes, you were still confused as to why you were here. As you turn on the water, you peek back at Joel. He is not looking at you, he’s looking out the window. His hands are tucked in his pocket and you have truly never seen him look at peace. His face is relaxed and his shoulders are eased down.

You use your hand to gauge the water’s lukewarm temperature before you slip in behind the curtain. The bathtub is an off-white color. As soon as you get under the shower head, you note the dirt and grime combining with the water and spinning down the drain.

You use the bar of soap Joel gave you to clean off your frigid skin. The scent is just a hint of lavender. It must have been an old bar and with age, the smell has faded. As you massage it in, you hear the door creak open and click shut. You assume it’s Joel doing what he told you and then your mind circles back to your previous observation.

Why is Joel doing this?

You ponder the idea that maybe he is a sadist psychopath who just likes the idea of having someone held captive. But you had heard a lot about this man, and while he was a murderer, you never heard about him kidnapping or hurting women. If anything, he was easier on women who did him wrong.

But you were not a woman who did him wrong. You did nothing to him. You simply were in the wrong place at the wrong time. You did exactly what he asked and then you went along with his plans for you.

Maybe he was just lonely?

His deep voice slices through your thoughts, “You almost done in there?”

You nod even though he cannot see you. “Yeah, I’m almost done.”

You rinse the soap out of your hair and turn off the faucet. You peek your head out from the curtain and Joel stands there with a towel in his hands. He laid a pile of clothes on the sink and you noticed that your clothes were gone from off the floor. Joel extends the towel to you and you reach around and grab it.

It’s scratchy, but it absorbs all the beads of water off your body. You wrap it around your body, tucking the end under your right armpit. You pull back the curtain and Joel is still standing there.

You step over the edge of the tub, letting some of the droplets run onto the cold tiles. Joel’s eyes never leave yours, but as soon as you step towards the clothes on the counter, his eyes trickle down your body.

Your heart picks up when his hand comes up to your cheek. Your natural reaction is to flinch away from him, but his motion is quicker than you. He wipes away a water drip off your cheekbone, pulling it down to your jawline. “All better?” He asks, his voice low. You nod, sheepishly. “Yes, thank you.”

He smiles.

“So polite. So pretty.”

And then he leaves you alone, clicking the knob shut as he exits the bathroom.

You get dressed quickly. Joel somehow knows your exact sizes because the cargo pants, long sleeve, and undergarments are a perfect fit. You never even managed to find clothes to fit you this well when you were doing your own stealing and looting.

His words rattle around in your head and you start to panic a bit. You start to formulate a plan. You had to stop thanking him. You had to stick up for yourself a bit more. You had to see where your boundaries were with him. You had to figure out his motive.

It was scary. Daunting. But you knew you could not live like this much longer.

You reach out for the door, but the knob was already turned and being pulled forward. Joel stands by the entrance of the door and you stride out, your head held a bit higher than usual. His face shows confusion, but you do not falter.

“I’m still hungry.”

It is like all the air is sucked out of the room. Suddenly, Joel is nine feet tall and you are an inch short. Your voice was confident enough to pass, but it was like he saw right through you.

“I fed you.”

You swallow, your eyes averted from his face for a moment, “Can I have a snack?”

His frown is more memorable than his smile. It is a permanent fixture in his big scary man aesthetic.

“A snack?”

You almost want to laugh at his condescending tone. But you also realize how you are playing with fire and at any moment this man could snap and kill you. You had to know if you were able to test him, see if you could truly ask him for something and he would be willing to give it to you. This would be your lesson.

So you nod, very matter-of-factly.

He is looking at you like you have four heads, but he bites.

“Fine, I’ll getcha a snack. Why don’t you have a seat on my bed?”

His cadence is giving him away. You can already tell he is not good at hiding his annoyance. You hesitantly walk over to his bed, plopping down rather obnoxiously. Your feet swipe the rug like a child’s would as you wait for him to return to the room. When he comes back, he has a single piece of beef jerky between his fingers.

You narrow your eyes at the so-called snack. You hated cured meats and you were sure to let him know that. “Jerky?”

You are really testing him now. And you can tell by the way his chest rises and falls in one quick breath.

“You seem very ungrateful, little one.”

You reach out to grab the bark but he snatches it back in a quick motion. You crinkle your eyebrows at him, trying your best to feign innocence. With the way he is staring daggers at you, you should fear his next move.

“Beg.”

You feel like your chest cannot take any more air in. Your hand is still hanging in the air, trying to reach out to his offering, but his hand is holding it far from your grasp.

You do not want to beg, this standoff would be part of your resistance to his captivity. In your mind, something would have to give way eventually. You could not sit around and just take his crumbs and passive weird behavior. So, you shake your head no.

“Go to your room. You’ve pissed me off,” His tone is abrupt and rushed. You do not want to push this further, knowing that you have made it an inch with him and were not completely ready to run the mile. You needed to game plan your next move.

You stand up, walking painfully slow to the door and leaving his space. His steps trail behind you, ensuring you did what he asked you to do. You can smell his musk, which makes the hairs on your arms stand up. He smelled good for a man as rugged as him.

When you reach your bedroom door, you grab the handle and turn around to face him. He stares down at you, his pupils dilated.

You make one last plea. “So, no snack?”

You regret saying it immediately. He puts the jerky bit up to his lips, opens them deliberately, and takes a huge bite of the meat. It pulls apart with a crackle and watching it, you know it probably would hurt your teeth if you did something like that. His flexed jaw is a lot stronger than yours. His action is animalistic in a way, reminding you of a lion tearing into an antelope.

And for some reason, it brings a rise of heat from your shoulders to your cheeks. Watching his teeth gnaw on the jerky sends your mind traveling to la la land.

His voice forces you out of your thoughts. “Go to bed. Now.”

He stopped bringing you breakfast. Instead of your usual routine, Joel started giving you one small meal a day. You start to resent him and by the looks he is giving you, he is still bitter over your whole scheme with the snack.

You woke up hungry, which only started your day off wrong. You are regretting ever testing him in the first place. You were biting the same hand that literally fed you. The more you think about it, the more you realize that you should be grateful he is even keeping you alive. Why are you even trying to rock the boat with him? In some weird twisted way, he gave you a second chance. You were completely sober from alcohol going on a month now. And while most nights you grieved the burn of it going down your throat, your mind was more clear. You felt more grounded in reality. You did not want to go back to the way you were. Sure, you were hungry, but you were not plastered and sleeping 18 hours a day, and that seemed like a fair enough trade.

But the ache of your chest started to set in. You were feeling impulsive. You do not clearly remember how your body felt before you started drinking so much, but you do recall the aggression that would riddle your bones from time to time. The knee jerk reaction just to let loose. It had gotten you in some very sticky situations, but it was a sort of rush you craved.

After three days of the stalemate, he brought you the Spam sandwich and a short cup of water for dinner. You do not look at him when he walks into the room, and you do not thank him.

You had to get on his good side again. Somehow.

“Are you on a hunger strike or somethin’?” His deep Southern drawl always extending out the end of his sentences. You loved hearing it.

You shake your head no.

“You stopped giving me breakfast,” You grumble, reaching out to the plate he offers you. He shrugs, plopping down in his usual chair in the corner. He does not have his dinner in hand tonight. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You were bein’ an ungrateful little bitch. I am offerin’ you a second chance here and you are not appreciative,” He states, almost sighing. You grit your teeth at his name for you, but you decide it is not worth the argument.

You take a bite of the stale bread. The moan of your stomach subsides for a moment.

“I am appreciative…”

He sits back, his shoulders flexing under his jean button-up. You scan his body, noting his dirty clothes and muddy brown boots. He was always tracking things into your bedroom from the bottom of his shoes and it ate away at your need for wanting things more clean. Your sober mind needed tidiness.

He grunts, “Doesn’t seem that way, sweetheart. Didn’t thank me just now.”

You try to get your thoughts in order before you respond. You take one careful bite into the sandwich, trying to read the man sitting in front of you. He got you sober. He feeds you and houses you even though he could have shot you in the face for being involved with a man who screwed him over. And he is not a bad view to look at when you eat.

“Thank you, Joel.”

He stands up and saunters over to you. As you swallow your bite, your eyes trail up his large frame. You start to worry a bit. Maybe he did not see your answer as genuine.

His thumb begins to trace the outline of your jaw, before slowly making its way up to your cheekbone. You grasp onto the plate tighter, your eyes piercing his as he focuses in on your lips. When you think he’s about to pull away, his palm goes over your mouth and his hand squeezes your cheeks together. His grip on you is painful, his fingers sinking into the divots of your upper jaw.

“You are receptive to feedback. Which is a good thing…” He trails off. Your heart starts to pound against your rib cage as you wait for the other shoe to drop. His hand jerks your head to the right, inspecting your side profile. “You will be good for me.”

You do not know what he is insinuating and are too afraid to speak up. You dip your head down, trying to promise him silently. Yes, I will be good. Please don’t kill me.

He slowly lets go of your face. He brings his thumb up to his lips and licks the very tip of the finger. You watch him bring it back down to your level. You flinch when he brings it up to the very corner of your lip. He wipes away at something like a father would to his young child who had food left on their face.

Joel was violent. But he was quiet about it and that scared you. He moved with such intention and you found yourself occasionally hypnotized by his aura. He was unlike any man you ever met. It could be the fact that others around you made him out to be some enigma, but maybe he was one.

You finally manage to speak up, the sudden tender touch starkly different from the aggression just minutes before.

“What do you want with me?”

It comes out as a whisper, but with Joel being so close, his ears perk up.

His face does not change from the steeled expression. “Time.”

He gives you breakfast one morning. You have been sleeping in, trying to use slumber as a substitute for food and it seemed to work for a couple of days. Joel brings in a plate with eggs and some stale bread. You had not seen him bring in eggs before and it shocked you. Your eyes almost well up in tears when he hands it to you in bed.

“Thank you, Joel.”

He sits in his usual spot and watches you scarf down the meal. “I am going to be gone for a couple of days.”

Your eyes shoot back at him, confusion laced in your countenance. “What about me?”

“I’m letting you have access to the kitchen and living room. You’re not allowed to leave. The door will be locked from the outside.”

The thought of being alone for that long scares you. Your thoughts start spinning. Why is he leaving you? Why would he let you be alone? Would you be able to eat?

Joel can see the cogs turning in your brain.

“You are leaving me alone?”

He claps his hands on his thighs as he stands, “I have a run to make. I usually have other guys do it for me but I gotta do this one myself. You will be okay.”

For some reason, your instinct is to worry about him. Going out of the QZ walls is always a very dangerous feat and you knew he would be unprotected from the elements and infected. Joel seems more than capable, but anything can happen. What would happen if he died out there?

“How long will you be gone?”

The question comes out desperate and you do not mean it to. You crawl out from under your covers, planting your feet on the ground. You suddenly felt hot. When the cold air hits your bare legs, you realize that you forgot you discarded your pants in the middle of the night. You were just in your underwear in front of him.

Joel’s eyes flicker down your unclad legs. You had a good radar when it came to men checking you out and as much as you did not want to admit it, you knew Joel was doing just that.

His lips twitch, “Not long. Two days, max.”

You cross your legs, holding your hands in front of your crotch in an attempt to try to shield yourself a bit. You watch him meander over to you, his steps purposeful. Once he reaches about a foot away, your breathing slows as his hand trails up your arm.

You felt this tension rise within the room and for a second you think he may act on his reaction to your legs. But instead, he just clears his throat. You are a bit disappointed and you do not know why.

“I’ll be good, Joel.”

You survive the first night. You busy yourself with stuff around his apartment. You decide that you would not snoop through his belongings, only organizing the kitchen cabinets and alphabetizing his record collection. You had found a sense of purpose, filling your day with pointless tasks.

When the second night comes, you decide that you finally need a shower. Joel did not tell you that you could use the bathroom in his room, but you became aware that the other tub did not work and was covered in mold. The smell in the bathroom was enough to make you gag.

You were starting to reek of body odor and you did not want to sleep another night smelling the way you did. Plus, you knew the soap you used when Joel called you pretty was in that shower. He could not be that mad.

So, you tiptoe into his room and wander into his bathroom. When you flick on the light, you notice some of his beard shavings in the sink bowl. To the left of the shower curtain, you spot a jumbled pair of boxer shorts. You feel a pang in your stomach. His face appears in your mind. You cannot stop yourself from imagining him in the room with you, just like he was when you stripped for your shower before.

You step into the cool water, letting it soak you as your hands traveled around your body. Your nerve endings were buzzing as your thoughts pondered the idea of Joel being there with you.

The glimmer of his eyes when you were pantsless days before still rattled around in your head. You had not been desired in so long and with that action alone, Joel made you feel wanted. The tension was so palpable. His close proximity to you, the occasional gentle touches, it was enough to fill your mind with all the dirty possibilities.

Your hand travels down to between your legs. At first it’s only to clean, but as you explore, you cannot help but slip your fingers between your folds. The titillating motion is enough to have you throwing your head back in pleasure. You squeeze your eyes shut, thoughts drifting to how you need an explosive release and you sickeningly want Joel Miller to give it to you.

Your pointer finger and middle spread your folds, rubbing carelessly and eagerly. You have not felt this driven to orgasm in years. You recall the sight of Joel’s stomach the first day you met him. Then you think about the boxers right outside of the shower next to you. Your thoughts spin and suddenly he’s naked in your mind.

Your hand only moves quicker with the thoughts. Your clit is aching with such intensity, you are shuttering and using your free hand to balance yourself on the tub’s wall. The water is pounding down your chest, dripping through the valley of your breasts.

Your eyes open a bit as you try to find your footing and you notice a bar of soap that’s covered in his short hairs. You snatch it up, bringing it up to your nose as your lips quirk up into a smile.

Of course, it smells like him.

You finger yourself faster, his name spilling from his lips as you press the bar into your face. It is almost like you are imagining it is his face stuck to your face.

“Joel… Oh my god, Joel-”

The sound of the curtain being ripped away from its spot makes you completely jump out of your skin. His fierce brown eyes raking down your completely nude frame, hunched over and in a compromising position. He slams his fist against the faucet, shutting the water off in one swoop. You drop his soap to the floor, scrambling backward trying to dodge his rage.

He is pissed.

His hand wraps around your bicep, ripping you out of the tub and onto the tile. Your hip hits the ground first and it sends a shooting pain up your back. He is panting like he just ran a mile, standing over your sopping naked frame.

“What are ya’? A bitch in heat?” He spits. You are so dazed and a bit afraid, you start to shake and raise your hands in defense.

He squats down to you, his eyes scanning your dripping body. His hands work so quick to reach out and grab your face. With clenched teeth, he brings your face close. “Answer me.”

His grip is tight on your face and you do not know if you can even respond effectively. You feel your core pulsate with the way he has a hold of you.

“I-I wanted to s-shower.”

He mocks you, “I-I… You are fuckin’ yourself in my shower like a dirty whore.”

He turns back to check to see if he actually saw you holding his bar of soap. It’s in pieces at the bottom of the tub surround. He pulls his hand away but the sting still remains.

“I-I’m sorry, Joel.”

His gaze falls upon you again, a little less aggravated. “Dry off and get dressed. Sit on my bed when you’re done.”

Your mind is all over the place when you sit down on Joel’s bed. He is not in the room but you hear him in the kitchen moving around. You hear the clatter of some plates and then him grunting.

When he barges in,you can tell he is annoyed still.

“You reorganized?”

Your heart pounds with uncertainty. You did not believe that would ever set him off, but you are starting to realize you have gauged Joel incorrectly. “Yes.”

He stops his pacing, his hands still propped up on his hips. “Why?”

“Because I needed to keep busy while you were gone. I also went through and-”

“Alphabetized the records. I saw.”

Nothing was getting past him. Your breathing is labored, the idea of him killing you for helping him be more orderly is so pathetic. You had to go out in a better way.

You clench your hands in your lap, “I did not mean to make you angry.”

He does not say anything, staring at you with an askane expression. He pivots to the dresser beside the bed, opening up the top drawer. He pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants and a beat up white t-shirt. He folds them meticulously, stacking them and then handing them to you.

You reach out for them, putting them in your empty lap.

“Put them on and get under the covers.”

Of all the things he could have said, this surprises you the most. “In my own bed?”

“No, this one.”

You look back at his perfectly made bed. He wanted you to sleep with him?

“Joel-”

“We are tryin’ somethin’ new tonight. Change your clothes while I take a shower with my soap, and be under those covers when I get out,” His outline of directions is seriously rattling you to your core. You felt nervous but almost excited?

You watch him turn on his heels and amble over to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Your stomach sinks when you hear the lock click. You look down at the clothes he gave you, raising them up to check the tags.

Just your size.

His bed is way more comfortable than the mattress you were cursed with. The blue quilt feels soft and worn under your fingertips. You lay on your back, feeling out of your own body. You hear the water shut off in the bathroom and your heart starts racing. You hear the rip up the curtain and some small stomps as Joel must be exiting the shower.

When the door creaks open and you see him standing in only some boxer shorts, your breathing hitches. His hair is brushed backward and his hairy upper body is a sight to behold. You silently wished you had this image earlier when you were rubbing your clit.

He walks over to his dresser, the same dresser he pulled clothes for you out of, and grabs a plain white t-shirt. He tosses it over his head, pushing his arms out of the holes on the side. It was slightly stained at the collar and it was see-through enough that you saw his dark chest hair still.

“You are sleeping with me tonight,” He announces, walking over to the opposite side of the bed. Your stomach flips when you watch him pull the blanket back and crawl under the blanket. You observe how drastic his mood shifted from ripping you out of the shower. Why did he want you in his bed? What was his end goal? Your core is still sticky with your desire. You secretly wish he would just take advantage of you already.

But he does not even turn your direction. You watch him face his back to you, tuck one arm under his pillow and shut the lamp off.

Your mind starts to race. The bedroom door is unlocked, you can see it in the moonlight. You could easily slip out of the bed in the middle of the night and head for the front door and run.

But it’s the same thought that slipped your mind when Joel left you a couple days ago. You could have jumped out a window, rigged the doorknob to the apartment to get out, but you just never did. Instead, you sat idle inside Joel’s apartment and waited for him to return.

And now you have access to him when he’s at his most vulnerable. What was preventing you from sneaking a pointy object into the bedroom and stabbing him directly in the throat?

Because you needed him. And while your demented and violent thoughts of all the ways you could kill him rattled around in your mind, you knew deep down you would never do it. You craved the need to impress him. To be good for him.

He’s silent next to you, not a sound leaving his body. You are not even sure if he is asleep when you slowly turn on your side, facing away from him as well.

Somehow, you sleep better in his bed than your own.

The routine changes after that night.

Joel wakes up as soon as the sun breaks the sky and he leaves you in his bed as he prepares you breakfast. When you hear the door reopen, you always wake up to his frame standing over you with a plate. You rub your eyes as you grab the handoff, propping yourself up on his headboard. He would sit on the end of the bed, nibbling on his own meal.

And then he starts asking you questions.

It starts off with him asking you where you were from originally. You explain how you traveled with a group of people that were essentially raiding other established communities. You had escaped the Baltimore QZ when a bunch of people got infected practically overnight and there was no oversight. When you got out, the people who survived with you became vicious and desperate.

Then he asks you about your relationship with Roger.

You give him the overview. You tell him you relied on him to fund your mind-numbing habits and he left you to look over his stash. When you press him about what he did to him, Joel gives you those eyes. Almost to say “you don’t get to ask the questions here.”

Most days you sat on the couch and read his collection of books. You were not the fastest reader so it took days to get through some of the stories. He had a lot of books about space and a variety of science fiction. He would leave every day, running his usual business. When he got back home, you would still be planted on the sofa, reading. He would slam his keys down and get to work on your Spam sandwich.

Every other night you would shower. After the soap incident, he kept his soap on the very top corner of the shower. When you first noticed it, you smiled sickly.

The sleeping situation is the same every night. You lay on your back, Joel lays on his side, completely facing away from you. Sometimes in the middle of the night, your arms would brush his back and he would stir. You tried your very best not to test his limits even though you had no real clue what they were.

One particular night, the window he kept cracked was letting in the most frigid air. You always ran cold while Joel was like a furnace when he slept. He radiated enough heat to keep a whole house warm. But this night you were shaking under the quilt, your toes feeling like they may fall off.

You turn on your side, facing his expansive back. You are so deliberate with your movement that when your arm falls over his waist, his body jolts. Instead of slapping you away or turning to face you, his body just stills completely, not even a rise and fall of breath.

“What are you doing?” He asks through the darkness, his sleepy voice. Almost wholesome.

You stifle a response, trying your best to sound confident. “I’m cold.”

He finally breathes out, his arm moving down over yours and holding it against his waist. Your heart races so hard you can hardly fathom falling asleep, but at least you were warm.

You start to do it every night, even when the air is balmy outside. You settle on your side, your arm swinging over his waist and pulling your lower half taut with his butt. You never expected you would ever be spooning Joel Miller every night, but here you were, wearing his clothes with your pelvis flush to him.

Your hand finds his hips one night while you adjusted your position. Your hand graces right below his waist and you feel his member half-hard in his boxer shorts. It makes your eyes snap open, the shock of your body waking him up. Your hand does not move, though. You hover it over that spot, curiously wanting to touch him through his shorts.

“Do you feel me?”

His voice makes your throat tighten, unsure of how to respond to such a question. So you just hum and shake your head.

He takes your reluctant hand and pushes it down to his clothed cock, his body pushing back into a bit. Your mind is still a bit fuzzy from your slumber, but when you feel him harden under your touch, you do not want to stop until you finish him.

He is deliberately moving your hand around, pulling it over and under his boxers until you are touching his bare cock. You shutter at how large it feels in your hand and you cannot even see it from how you are laying. Your hand cannot completely wrap around it due to its girth.

“Joel…” You practically whimper, clawing his back to get him to lay back so you can see him. He does not budge, still laying on his side.

Your hand massages the very base of his dick, his curly hair poking your fingertips as you do. You are so eager that as you jerk him off, he grabs your hand to start guiding you slower. When your hand graces his tip, he hisses.

“Gotta take me slow, girl,” He groans, holding your wrist so tight you know it will be bruised in the morning. You do as he says, slowly and methodically following how he likes to be jerked off. After a minute, you can hear his shallow breaths increasing as you bring your speed up just a bit.

“Are you gonna cum?”

You try to say it in a sultry voice, but it comes out rushed and desperate. You just want to see him seize by your own hand. Joel grunts, his grip on your arm practically stilling your movements before he can even finish. You resist his persistent handle on you. You craved to make him orgasm. Eventually, he pushes his hips forward into your hand, sighing as he releases.

You feel the ropes of cum spill all over the back of your hand. As soon as the warm seed empties onto you and his tummy, he rips back the covers and stumbles into the bathroom. He shuts the door so fast, you hardly see him through the dark.

You look at his clear-white fluid on your knuckles and smile in satisfaction.You want him to see your next actions.

The bathroom light spills into the room as he holds out a wash rag to you. It’s obvious it’s the one he just used on himself. You shake your head, bringing your hand up to your lips, extending your tongue, and licking the spend off your knuckles. You swallow, willingly.

He gawks at you, his eyebrows still knitted together, watching you clean off your hand entirely. “Didn’t even need my help. What a good girl.”

You wake up with Joel standing over you. It rattles you a bit, his stare zeroed in on your face.

“Mornin’,” He uttered, holding out a small pile of clothes for you. “We are goin’ on a field trip.”

The last thing you expected after jerking the man off last night was an outing. You sit straight up, holding out your hands for him to shove the clothes in your palms.

“Where are we going,” You stammer, pushing the covers down your legs.

His eyes rake down your body as you stand up, almost standing at attention in front of him.

“You’re comin’ to work with me.”

You look down at the clothes he has given you. Some cargo pants, a short sleeve gray top, and even a new pair of underwear.

This is the first outing you have had since being with Joel, so you are a bit nervous thinking about how the outside world may be. It cannot be any worse than it already was, but you worried about how you would be perceived walking down the street with Joel Miller.

The more you ponder the idea, you start to feel more reassured than anything. If you were placed beside anyone, you would want it to be with the guy everyone feared. No one would ever think to give you a hard time.

Joel’s line of work was dangerous but it was also a powerful role to have in this fucked up world in the QZ. You were on the right side of the insanity, in your opinion. Joel was your protection in some demented fucked-up way.

You get dressed as he makes breakfast. This morning, he decides to make you two some eggs that he said were getting old so he had to make them. He likes his eggs runny, so you had to like yours runny, too.

You two sat at the dining table as you ate. He scarfs his down in a minute, while you take your time to savor the different flavor. You missed eating food that was not Spam or plain bread. Joel notes your painstakingly slow chews.

“Hurry up, we got places to be.”

The people on the streets pay mind to you now. Before, when you did leave your former place with Roger, everyone kept their heads down. Occasionally people would slam into you with their shoulders, acting like they could phase right through you.

When you walk with Joel, people move out of the way.

The alleyway is not too far from Joel’s apartment. He forces you to walk in front of him, copying every step you make with his loud footfalls. He grabs your shoulders to direct you down a concrete staircase that seems to lead to nowhere. At the bottom, a brute man stands with his arms crossed. You hesitantly stop right in front of him, your eyes taking in all the scars littering his face.

Joel grunts. “She’s with me, Pete. Thomas and Garrett in there with him?”

The man, who’s now known as Pete, just nods minutely. Joel pushes the door beside him open and grabs your forearm to drag you through the threshold. It’s a dimly lit hallway that smelled like dampness and gunpowder. There’s two light bulbs dangling from the paint chipped ceiling that guide you to the end of the hallway. Joel pushes open the door, and you smell that familiar metallic smell.

It was a smell that leaked into your dreams occasionally. It’s so overpowering you can almost taste it.

When you walk in, the room is occupied by three men. Two are standing over the other, their bodies blocking the entirety of the scene. You do note the huge puddle of blood on the floor near a knocked over wooden chair. Joel clears his throat and the two men step away looking at Joel, then you. They have to be around your age, maybe a bit older. The blond man speaks up first as he scans your body.

“Bringing your kid along for the show?”

You glance over at Joel who’s jaw tightens. You watch his whole demeanor shift, his body becoming rigid.

“Get out of here, Garrett.”

The blond man furrows his brows, not understanding why he was really being directed to leave. You can sense a bit of hesitance. “Joel, I’m just kidd-”

“Get the fuck out, now. We don’t need you.”

The man scrambles past you and Joel, shutting the door behind him. The dynamic Joel and his men have is very easy to figure out. Whatever he says, goes. The look the other man is giving him is that of unease.

“He confessed that he stole from our stash. More than once.” Joel walks forward, drawing his gun out. Finally, the man on the floor comes into full view.

And you recognize him.

He was a pill smuggler that had come over to Roger’s a couple times before. He always gave off the vibe that he would take advantage of anyone, especially a woman. He would whisper things about you to Roger and you remember a couple times when he had inappropriately touched you. You believe his name to be Don. Maybe Ron.

His eyes are swollen and bruised. His lip is completely split open and he has a gnarly gash on his left cheekbone. He is tied up, his arms and legs bound by ropes and zip ties.

You are not at all phased by blood, but his beaten body is a bit hard to look at. He was not a nice looking man already, and surely the swelling was not helping him.

His lips part almost like he is about to speak up, but Joel swipes the butt of his gun across his face with insane accuracy.

One thing about you was you did not turn away from violence. Now that you are sober, it's easier to recognize that something was off for you to be so unfazed by the savagery. You sickeningly enjoyed watching people get their karma.

You had no context as to why this man was bound and brutalized in this random basement, but you knew Joel had good reason to set him straight.

“Donny boy, I thought we were friends,” Joel’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. He seems in his element as he squats in front of the man, “And you fucked me over good. Sold out people only to get yourself in this position. Pretty fuckin’ dumb.”

Don can hardly sit up, his body completely tilted with his elbow propping up his entire body weight. You can tell he is struggling to respond, but you hear the faintest voice quip up.

“I told the truth, please,” He begs as he attempts to sit up more. Joel grabs his shoulder roughly, balancing his back on his butt. “I won’t do it again.”

You cannot see Joel’s face, but you know he does not believe that. His shoulders slot back a bit as he stands up and turns to face you. His face is straight, not showing any emotion at all. You notice the gun still in his hand, his finger completely off the trigger.

“You know him?”

You just nod, your eyes peering down at the gun he has directed at you. His eyes flicker back and forth, seemingly contemplating what to say next. He pushes the weapon into your hand, his fingers curling around the grip so that your hand would follow suit. You watch every meticulous move, pulling the safety clip, slipping his hand away and gesturing towards the man.

“You’re gonna kill him.”

Your eyes fly open, unsure if this problem should be dealt with by you. The promise you made to yourself when you stepped foot in this QZ rattled around in your brain as you tried not to show Joel your irresolution. Your mouth is dry when you gulp, “Why?”

His hand presses on your back as he pushes you towards the guy. You are about 2 feet from him and Joel’s face is so close to your ear. It’s the closest he has ever been to you. You can feel his breath on your lobe and neck and it makes bumps scatter across your body.

He raises your arms, pointing the barrel towards Don. As soon as he does that, Don starts begging. His voice shaking, sweat pooling on his forehead, tears pricking at the corners of his swollen eyes.

Joel’s voice is so hushed over Don’s pleas. “He is the one who told me about Roger stealing from me. Little did I know, he was stealing from me, too.”

It is like a switch goes off in your brain. Your eyes are trained forward on the trembling man but it is as if the whole world went quiet when Joel stopped speaking. You hear white noise in your ears and your mind shuts off for a nanosecond. Your pointer finger slots between trigger guard and trigger and you squeeze, your aim right at his head.

You feel the spray explode across your face and suddenly you snap back to your reality.

Your body was overtaken by the need to please. The need to impress Joel. It was also like your own sick revenge. This man is the reason Roger was dead. The reason you got ripped from your normalcy. Your brain had no time to catch up to your body’s actions. Instead of flinching or falling backward away from the body of the traitor, you stand over him like he’s some commodity in a circus. With wonder and curiosity, you lower the gun and smile.

Joel steps beside you, his face expressing fervor.

Finally facing him and forgetting the other man in the room who was just a witness to the scene, you speak up.

“Did I do good?”

A small semblance of a grin spreads across his lips. “Very good, sweetheart.”

You and Joel do not stay in the room long after. Very quickly, he ushers you into another room where he checks a cabinet full of guns, looking over each other and counting in a hushed tone. You hear bounding footsteps in the hallway and men talking amongst each other.

The voices are rushed and surprised. One states, “She didn’t even flinch. Joel’s lucky to have her.”

You feel a tickle on your brow and itch it absentmindedly. As you pull your finger back and look at it, it is stained red.

You find a shiny surface in the room of arms and paraphernalia, glancing at your own reflection. The smear of blood goes across your forehead, while the splatter itself is speckled across your cheeks like freckles. Joel stops what he is doing to check you out, his steps trailing up to your back. His breathing is quite labored and as you stare at your own mirror image, you note the look he’s giving you.

His hand goes across your chest, his finger tips starting to dance across your décolletage.

“We gotta clean you up. Can’t have you walkin’ the streets lookin’ like you killed someone.”

He says it while he rubs the blood across your chest, smearing it and massaging it into your skin.

You loved it when he touched you. Even if it was roughly, you counted yourself lucky that Joel felt the need to do so.

“But I did kill someone.”

Your voice does not have any hesitance, you are simply stating facts. Joel’s chin tilts upward, his hand grabbing your shoulder and jerking you around to face him. His face is practically millimeters from the tip of your nose.

He grunts, almost like he’s clearing his throat. “And you didn’t even second guess me. I didn’t even need to push you, you just did it.”

You smirk to yourself, enjoying the slight praise he is giving you.

“And here I thought I was testin’ ya.”

Your eyes flicker up to his, trying to see right into his soul. Testing you?

“Did you not expect me to do it?” You bite.

“I had an inklin’ you’d be loyal. Consistent. Even a bit violent. But I didn’t expect a killer.”

Your chest rises at his statement. You are trying to manage your breathing as his words have a visceral effect on you. It was like he was talking dirty to you. Why did his impression of you mean so much? Ever since you met the man, you were at his mercy and you got off at his reassurance. It was like he was your new vice.

His right hand traces down your bare arm, while his left grabs your jaw. “Let’s get you cleaned up and home, how ‘bout it?”

You agree with a jerk of your head.

Once you walk into the apartment again, you are reminded of the smell of mold again. When the scent hits your nostrils, you scrunch your face. Joel is quick to notice the expression because his eyes and hands have not left your body since you shot that guy. He has been watching your every move.

You toe off your shoes by the front door as Joel tosses down the keys. He takes the handgun out of his waistband and places it carelessly next to them.

When he turns to look at you, he crosses his arms. He is studying you as you unzip the jacket he offered you. It was only to cover the blood that stained your new outfit.

“Take it off slow.”

You shoot him a confused look, still trying your best to follow his instructions. You shrug the jacket off your shoulders, letting it purposefully fall down your arms. The blood on your clothes has left semi-permanent spots on your skin. Once the clothing pools to the floor, you stand there at Joel’s mercy.

He clenches his jaw, nodding slowly as he inspects you. “Now the shirt.”

You do not second guess his next directions. You grab the hem of your shirt and draw it upward over your head. The fabric goes across your lips and nose lifting them up awkwardly. You smile when you drop the next article next to the jacket.

The anticipation makes your pussy pulsate. You have thought about this moment for longer than you care to admit.

“Pants.”

The pants are buttoned so you fumble with getting it undone before you are shoving them down your goosebump-ridden legs. When they get to your ankles, you use the opposite feet to step on the fabric and pull them off your feet. You kick them further away than the shirt and jacket.

You are only in your underwear in Joel’s living room. He is looking at you with such confliction. You have never felt very self conscious until this very moment.

“Should I keep going?”

It is an innocent question, but there is lustful intention behind it. There would be a point of no return if he did answer it.

“I was gettin’ there,” He steps towards you, his guise not giving away any of his next movements. His face was still unyielding. “Panties first.”

Your breathing hitches when his fingers wrap around the elasticity of the waistband.

“I’m still c-covered in blood-” “Shut up.”

You nod, sliding the underwear down and revealing your already dripping core. He sucks in a big breath of air as his hand reaches between your legs and swipes at your wetness with the pads of his fingers. Your entire body tenses, the feeling so foreign and exciting that you cannot contain your gasp for air.

Finally his expressionless face changes to a small twinge of a smile, “Dirty fuckin’ girl. Have been wantin’ this for a long time, eh?”

You are afraid to admit it out loud so you just nod. His fingers still make work through your folds and your knees feel like they may buckle with every swipe. Joel notes your position and grabs your face with his left hand, squeezing your cheeks so hard it forces you to look at him and stand up straighter.

His fingers dip into you briefly, making squelching noise so loud that you both groan.

“Joel,” you whimper, sounding desperate and hasty.

He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. It is a passionate act you did not expect. You did not know that sex would Joel would mean open mouth kisses, but you are thankful for it. His hand releases its grip on your cheeks and wraps itself around the base of your throat. Your lips slip open for his tongue, letting it explore every inch of your mouth. His fingers are making their slow methodical movements around your clit, driving you absolutely insane with desire.

Your body seems so in tune with every movement he makes, but as you makeout with him, you realize it is because he has molded you this way. To curve and bend to his every will and way.

And you loved every moment of it. You thirsted for this type of control. You knew you would not have to worry or have a second thought, ever. Joel was already ten steps ahead and thinking out everything for you.

He pulls away from the kiss, his eyes flickering between your lips and eyes. You note the red tinge of blood on his lips from kissing yours.

“Get on your knees.”

You obey, whining when you realize that means he would no longer be keeping your pussy warm with his hand. Once your knees hit the hardwood, his hands are making work at his belt and jean buttons.

“You know how to suck dick? Or do I gotta do all the work for ya?”

Your eyes fly open at the vulgarity. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, “Yes, Joel. I’ve done it before.”

Having his dick in your hand last night was one thing, but seeing it for the first time is jarring. He is definitely the biggest you have ever had the pleasure of being in front of. He can tell by the look on your face that you are a bit stunned.

“Let’s see how you do,” He inches his waist closer to your face and slightly ajar lips, “Open.”

Complying is what you do for Joel.

You open your mouth nice and wide as he inches his cock into your warm mouth. You close your eyes, trying to focus on not disappointing him with your gag reflex. You try your best to relax, but his watchful eye is making you feel disoriented.

He pulls out, letting you take a breath, only to push back in more forcefully. You try to stop his intrusion by putting your hand up on his hairy bare thigh, but it is no use. Your closed eyes prick with tears as Joel pulls out again, this time he is slapping his dick across your mouth.

“Keep those fuckin’ eyes open and on me. Open nice n’ wide and relax that fuckin’ throat.”

His demands needed to be met, so you nod and adjust your position, laying your tongue out. He inches in again and instead of resisting, you relax and watch him through your eyelashes. His face twists as he draws back, his cock getting so impossibly close to the back of your throat. When he hits your gag reflex, you grip onto your own thighs tightly to contain the urge to empty your stomach. He smiles sickly at your reaction. “Poor girl,” He teases, snapping his hips forward again. Another gag. “Can’t fuckin’ take me? Guess we will have to train that mouth and throat, huh?”

He keeps fucking your mouth as your eyebrows draw together in concentration. Joel’s loving every moment, watching you writhe under him. Your wetness is pooling on the hardwood and you can already hint the embarrassment you will feel if Joel notices.

You hollow out your cheeks, attempting to assert yourself in the situation. When you do that, Joel pulls out completely. He leans down to grab your arms and lifts you off the floor, dragging your shins against the uneven wood planks. And to your horror, he notices the wetness on the floor. “Drippin’ on the floor like a wet mop, ain’t ya?”

Joel’s eyes were always dark brown, but they look black with his eyes as dilated as they are. His grip on your arms is very assertive and when he pushes you back over the arm of the couch, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears.

“Please, Joel.”

He grabs you up by your armpits, dragging your body across the couch. When you're lying flat, he settles himself between your legs, holding your right leg taut with his hipbone.

“Keep begging,” He demands, a smug expression taking over his face. His eyes scour your entire body, “My little killer.”

The word sends your body into overdrive and you start grabbing at his body, trying to take what you want. He fights your hands, grabbing both of them and pinning them against the throw pillow right above your head.

You want to confess everything to him in that moment. The very moment you laid eyes on him, you wanted to give yourself to him. In every single way possible.

“I want you.”

“I know you do,” He grabs the shaft of his cock and begins his torture. Sliding it through your soaked folds and humming in satisfaction. You lift your hips, trying to get him to slip it in, but he is always quicker than you. “Desperate, ain’t ya?”

Before your face can react to his mocking, his hips snap forward, fully sheathing himself inside you. The meat of your thigh presses against his waist, trying to hold him in that spot, but he does not let up. The pressure is almost too much but the pain is appallingly satisfying.

You cannot even remember the last time you felt this. Your previous sexual encounters were usually hasty and boring. Most were not consensual and left you feeling gross and deprived of release.

The build up between you and Joel was a months long endeavor that left you feeling borderline insane. You could not help but let your desire for him fester.

His pace is not slow in the slightest, but it is calculated. You manage to widen your legs a bit allowing more space for his thighs to take up. As he kneels between you, you get a great view of his muscular flexed thighs.

Joel was a specimen. You could not stop yourself from admiring such a sight, especially when his hands are all over you and his dick is driving into you over and over. You had never been in love, never seen it first hand even, but you knew you love this moment. You love Joel for making you feel so good. That’s not a feeling you have ever had for anyone, let alone a man in this sick world.

“Oh my god, yes,” You clamor, your hands still locked over your head. The tension you feel in the pit of your stomach feels like it may explode, “Please, please.”

He repositions himself, releasing your wrists and pushing your legs up. You are folded in half while his upper body falls over you. You can already see the glistening of sweat across his neck and shoulders. His body locks you on the couch as he continues rocking into you.

“You don’t cum til I say, got me?”

He fucks into you harder now, and from this angle, you do not know how that will be possible. A couple more thrusts and you know you are a goner.

“I feel it,” You choke, trying to clench to prevent yourself from letting go before Joel’s instruction. “Joel.”

“I said hold that shit back,” His pace only speeds up, like he is chasing his own high, “Not ‘til I say.”

The friction is too much. You tug your lip between your teeth and you bite so hard that you start to taste blood. He is not letting up and you know the rope is about to snap. No matter how hard you try, when your eyes roll back and your body goes rigid, you let the release take over everything.

You are screaming, your voice cracking as you do. Joel’s hip stutter when your pussy tightens up around him, but you know he’s only slowing down because you did not listen.

Your limbs feel like jello and being that you are unable to really shift or move below Joel anyway, you just lay there limp. Joel flexes his arms and you can tell as he pulls away from your body that he is pissed.

“Roll over.”

You knit your brows together, still trying to manage your breathing. “I’m sorry-”

He slaps your thigh, the sting prickling down your entire leg. “Roll the fuck over.”

The motion takes almost all of your energy. When you are on your stomach, Joel hauls your ass towards his pelvis. With your ass up in the air, you can feel the cold air hit your spent cunt. Your head is tilted, only able to see Joel in your peripheral vision. He looks down at your pussy, dragging his cock head through your seams. You note how he smiles coyly.

When his lips purse and spit starts to dribble out, you start babbling all sorts of nonsense. The spit lands perfectly between your pussy lips and the top of his red tip.

“You know what happens to girls who don’t listen?”

You keen as he pushes his cockhead into your cunt, “What?”

“Punishment.”

The thrust is so powerful it has your body almost slamming back onto the sofa. As he ruts into you, the moans that come out of you do not sound human. You are already so sensitive from your orgasm, you know that it takes practically no touch at all to set off the chain reaction again.

His grip on your ass will leave bruises, just like all the other bruises he has given you in the last couple months. You count all of them like trophies. All the time Joel has touched you.

When the grip turns into open hand spanking, you know your ‘punishments’ would be something you would enjoy tempting time to time.

They are brutal. With each thrust, his palm comes down on your left ass cheek. All the while, his right fingers are digging scratches all along your ass and thigh. Between the sounds of the smacks and his balls slapping against your skin, you are being sent back into an ever-growing burn in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuckin’ pussy is squeezin’ my cock,” He mewls, his voice gravelly, “You like gettin’ spanked? Hm?”

You restrain yourself from screaming out that you love it. You settle for just, “Please don’t stop.”

You can hear him chuckle behind you, his actions continuing as he bucks into you.

“You’re lucky ‘m feelin’ nice.”

His hips start to stutter as you continue your mewling over his cock. He reaches out to your shoulders, pulling you upward and locking his arm around your neck. He has you in a loose headlock as he fucks you. Your hands rest on your forearm, your nails digging so hard that you leave small half moons on his freckled skin.

His other arm finds its way between your legs, swiping your clit as his thrusts become more labored. Even with the pace slowed down, the small titillating circles he pushes into your sensitive bud sends you over the edge again. As you fall apart in his arms, he spirals into his own climax, fucking his seed so deep into you that you will probably have it dripping out of you for days.

The husky moans he lets out as he empties himself inside you rattles in your eardrum. It was like music to your ears. You finally got what you want.

“You came again without permission.”

You do not respond, just grunt and fall onto the couch.

Your body is humming still. Joel’s half-hard cock is still standing at attention as he stands up and walks over to the kitchen. You grab the back couch cushion and push yourself up to watch him wander over the sink. His hand reaches for a kitchen towel and he wets it under the sink faucet.

His ass is so perfect and you silently curse yourself for not grabbing it when he was balls deep in you.

“Come ‘ere.”

You scramble up, your legs wobbling with each step. Joel’s eyes scan your entire body again, enjoying the sight of you so bare in front of him. “Didn’t think you were the one for aftercare.”

He furrows his eyebrows, as he extends the towel to you. “I ain’t. Wipe yourself up.”

Your heart pangs against your ribcage. For some reason you thought being so intimate with him would bring something different out. You are sorely mistaken.

The anger you felt earlier, the blind rage, takes over all your nerve endings again. You cannot stop yourself from lashing out after such a high. A high he gave you.

You slap the towel away, tilting your chin up at him. He has never seen you defiant. His face twists in confusion.

“You made me kill for you. Then you fuck me. And you can’t even give me any decency by wiping your fucking cum off of me?”

The words are like vomit coming out of your mouth. You ever thought you would talk back to him like this. It is the kind of thing you could have been killed for months ago. But now, you both are in vulnerable positions. You want to prove a point. Look at me, appreciate me, love me.

“Excuse me?”

His tone is threatening. But so is yours.

“You heard me.”

As silence cuts through the air, you notice the gun Joel put on the kitchen counter next to a broken coffee pot. He sees you eyeing it and goes to reach for it, but you are closer and a bit faster than him. When your hand wraps around the metal, you point it directly at his hairy chest.

Proving a point with violence was always your specialty. Before the alcohol, and now, after the alcohol.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” He bites, his lips tightening inward, “You put that shit down now.”

You are steady with it, your finger not on the trigger, but only millimeters from gracing it. “No.”

“You’re not gonna kill me. Not after all you just did for me,” His voice is more clipped, his words staggered. His hands raise in the air, almost in surrender. “Put it down.”

You are not sure what your next move should be. The rage now turns into confliction.

You have screwed yourself for snapping so quickly at him and now he was never going to trust you. Threatening him with words would be one thing, but pointing a gun at center mass was absurd. While you wanted to get your point across to him, you knew this was overkill. Your fuse was so short and your urges were unkempt. Acting on impulse was going to get you in major trouble.

In the time you are second guessing your actions, Joel’s already springing forward and snatching the gun from you. You are easy to disarm when you are not prepared for a naked man springing at you in your time of contemplation. Joel grabs the gun, pushing you backward into the kitchen counter and points it at you.

“Now…” His southern drawl carries out the word. Your heart is pounding, the same way it was racing last time Joel trained a gun on you. This time was different. Instead of a look of contempt and uncertainty, he appears to be offended by your actions. “You know damn well that shit ain’t gonna fly with me.”

“Joel-” “Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” He steps closer, the gun still trained on you, “You know better, don’t ya?”

The coldness of the barrel on your right collarbone is enough to send you over the edge. Your eyes flicker between his chest, his lips, to his eyes, “I do. I don’t know what came over me.”

His eyes reflect a silent consideration. He is trying to figure out if he believes you or not. You silently pray he does even if you do not fully believe yourself.

“You are too quick to react to someone tellin’ you know. Knock that shit off now or else we will have bigger issues.”

You knew those bigger issues would lead to Joel putting you out of your misery. You would have to work on impulse control. “It won’t happen again. I will work on it.”

“You’re lucky I love that pussy of yours or else you would have a hole in your fuckin’ head.”

Love.

“You love it?”

He smirks at your candor. He did not even realize he said that. “Get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness. You don’t have time to get a big head.”

“On my knees?”

He clenches his jaw, withdrawing the end of the gun from your skin. It leaves a small circle indentation, solidifying that next time, there may be a much bigger one there. “On your knees, little one.”

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sukirichi · 5 months ago

Text

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 020 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, living like criminals (lol), implied smut, unedited.

notes. you guys I can’t believe we finally reached the ending! this was such a long but enjoyable ride and I cannot thank you all enough for being so supportive in this series <3 this chapter is really long but I hope you guys enjoy it and happy ber-months!! (also just a lil note that we still have an epilogue – and yes, I’ve finished writing that too, so whatever happens in the ending… know we’ll still have some tidbits for the epilogue!)

wc. 19k

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[ TWENTY ] all of the small things that you do are what remind me why I fell for you. and when we’re apart and I’m missing you, I close my eyes and all I see is you and the small things you do.

You didn’t know what woke you up first – the birds chittering outside, the soft rustling of the sheets beside you, or the low groans emanating from your husband.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting its golden glow as it kissed your eyelids and gently coaxed you from sleep. The soft chittering of birds outside the cabin filled the morning air with a melody so pure and light it almost felt like a dream. The world was still, bathed in an ethereal calm that seemed almost too perfect to be a real.

You wondered if it was. Real. True – you laid there, cocooned in your thin blankets that you got in a fleece market, breathing in the scent of pine and fresh morning dew, as if trying to memorize this magical peace. It was so quiet that it felt almost deafening, so different from everything you’d known before, that it was hard to believe this life was now yours. No more waking up at the same time everyday while servants bathed and dressed you. No more awkward breakfasts filled with tension as you discussed politics. Instead, your mornings felt like this – waking up whenever you liked, and having home cooked meals that was sometimes taken by leaning against the countertops, cereal bowls in hand as you discussed with your husband what you’d do for the day. Not that there was much to do – Rintaro chopped wood, you washed your clothes and prepared the meals, and he kept the house warm.

Waking up in the light of early morning, the familiar scent of pine and crisp mountain air filled the small cabin. The bed was warm, and as you stirred, your hand instinctively reached out to search for him. The roughness of his palm met yours, and you felt his fingers curl around yours gently, the gesture silently confirming that it was real – he was real – and that none of it was a dream. You turned your head, and there he was. Rintaro, still half-asleep, his eyes closed with his lips slightly curled downwards. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him a moment longer.

Had he always been like this? When was the last time you’d shared the same bed as him back in your old country? Looking back at it… it’d been almost a year before your wedding that you did. Despite greeting the new day by being tangled in the sheets all night long, Rintaro rarely stayed the night when you were still dating. He’d always leave with a quick kiss to your forehead, and you’d be too exhausted – bone weary and pleasured in all the best of ways – to ask him to stay. And when you had been married… there were plenty of beds, but none to be shared.

But now, he was here, as he had been for the past six months. Waking up next to you with always the same expression – his arm slung across his forehead because his eyes were too sensitive to the light, and his lips turned in a frown because he would’ve slept forever if he could. I could never be a morning person, he’d mumbled once, a mug of coffee in hand, I don’t get how you look so beautiful this early, though. Maybe that’s the only good thing about waking up.

What is? you’d teased and acted coy, and Rintaro would hide his blush behind his mug. Seeing you first thing in the morning, he’d say.

Without thinking, you leaned in, gently pushing his arm that blocked your way so you could brush your lips against his forehead. It was a simple gesture, one you had shared with him countless of times before, but it never lost its meaning. It was your silent way of saying, “Good morning,” in the hopes that it’d reassured him that, despite everything, the two of you were still together, and would stay together through thick and thin.

Rintaro grumbled beneath you, as he always did whenever you kissed him. Six months of the two of you navigating this new life together, and he still acted like a stranger at times. Today, however, he welcomed it a little bit. His grumblings were incoherent, his hand flying to rest against your waist as you hovered over him, trying to memorize all the details on his face and how he’d changed. For one, his hair had grown a little too long. It reached the nape of his neck and flared out into wispy spikes, the tendrils soft yet curling around your finger. Two, his stubble was becoming more prominent, the dark shadow present across his face. If you swiped your palm against his jaw, it’d feel uncomfortably sharp.

Not that you minded. Smiling to yourself, you reached over to press another kiss to his nose when Rintaro stopped you, your wrist caught in his arm. “Don’t,” he warns in a low voice laced heavily with sleep, “You said my stubble hurts you.”

“It’s just itchy. It doesn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, but you still don’t like it,” he pouted, and you bit back the giggle threatening to pour out of you.

The peace of the moment was broken only by the soft rumble of your stomach. You winced at the sound and slipped out of bed, padding softly across the wooden floor to the small kitchen. The pantry door creaked as you opened it, revealing nearly empty shelves. A couple of cans, a bag of rice, and some dried herbs – enough for one meal, maybe two.

You felt Rintaro’s presence behind you before you heard him, his hands snaking around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You were running low on groceries again, but it didn’t worry you. This life, however simple and secluded, was a far cry from the grandiosity of the palace, but it was yours. And in this quiet cabin, up high in the mountains in a country at the other side of the world where no one knew you, you’d found a strange sort of peace.

“We’re running low.”

“Huh?” Rintaro mumbled against your shoulder, raising his eyes to eye the shelf. It was nearly empty, and he hummed to himself, confused. “We just checked our stock two weeks ago. I was sure it’d last us a few more weeks.”

You snorted, not making any attempts to remove his arm around your waist as you picked up the cans. Green beans, mushrooms, and some off-brand cheap tuna that tasted so salty you felt like you’d licked the sea. “Yeah, two weeks ago. You eat like a bear, Rin.”

“Oh. Sorry,” he released his hold around you, and stepped away. Scratching the back of his neck, he tipped his chin in the direction of the shelves. “We should go down later to get groceries. I heard there was a night market, too, and I still have some money left to get whatever you like.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

“I insist,” he said, eyeing your bare neck, ears, and wrists. Just six months ago, you’d been decorated in the finest of stones and most exquisite gowns. Now? You wore whatever would fit you from the thrift shops, and you hadn’t worn any accessories aside from your wedding ring ever since arriving here. It just didn’t make sense to keep wearing your old garments when you needed to keep a low profile. So you’d stashed and kept all your old clothes at the back of some rotting cabinet, occasionally checking to see if it was still in good condition in case you needed to sell it for some extra cash. You didn’t mind the change, truth be told. But you could tell Rintaro was struggling to see you in this light – walking around barefoot, dressed in his tattered and loose sweaters that you hadn’t washed in days because soap was hard to come by, and your face bare of anything.

You didn’t look like a Princess, but you didn’t have to. You weren’t one anymore.

Rintaro sighed. “It’s been a long time since you got yourself something you liked. I want to spoil you, even if its just for tonight.”

You grimaced, unsure of what to say. “I appreciate that but… we should really use the money for something else, Rin. You know we can’t afford to buy anything that isn’t essential right now,” you reminded him, gnawing on your lip as you both danced around the undeniable fact looming overhead. “The money my parents gave us won’t last forever.”

“I could get a job.”

“No,” you responded without skipping a beat, “Not an option. It’s too risky. You and I could be recognized and it’s just… We’re okay, Rin. What we have now? The life we have together? I can’t just let it go. There’s no way I’m letting you be exposed out there.”

Rintaro was silent for a moment. You knew he knew you were right – you could be in the middle of nowhere and still be recognized. He’d spent his entire life being in the limelight, his every move publicized on television and the media. He would be easy to point out from the crowd even if his hair grew a little longer, a little more unkempt. Regardless of the truth that he wasn’t a royal by blood, he could never shake off the elegance in which he moved with, or the mannerisms that weren’t normal in this country’s culture. Just thinking about him being separated from you because of something as foolish as a job… you couldn’t stomach the thought of it.

“But we can’t keep living like this,” he argued softly, looking around your old, dusty cabin with a weary expression. “Just barely getting by.”

“We’ll find a way, okay?” you reassured him, reaching over to cup his face. He’d been pestering you to let him go to town so he can find a stable source of income for months now, but you were stubborn. You’d watched over him like a walk just to ensure he wouldn’t leave. But he was right, there had to be something you or him could do to do more than just survive. “We’ll talk about it tonight. I promise.”

That night, you and Rintaro set out to brave through the weather. The cold winter air nipped at your face as you and Rin stepped into the grocery store, the warmth inside immediately welcoming. The both of you were bundled up in thick sweaters, scarves, and hats, trying to keep the biting chill at bay. Your hand found its way into his, and he squeezed it gently, offering both comfort and warmth as you navigated the aisles together.

This was only your third time grocery shopping, and it still felt strange, almost like playing house. The abundance of choices, the unfamiliar task of sticking to a budget, and the realization that you now had to manage everything on your own – it was all new, and both thrilling and daunting. You remembered the first time you arrived here, Rintaro had unknowingly picked out whatever he liked, careless of the prices simply because he’d never had to think about it before. But as soon as you reached the checkout counter, and your money wasn’t enough, he’d shamefully put back everything – chocolates, salty chips, wine. It left an impression to the cashiers working, and it was another two months before you both had enough courage to return.

Now, though, you were more familiar with it. You both moved slowly, scanning the shelves with a mix of curiosity and caution. Rin paused in front of a display of cookies, his hand reaching out to grab a box of your favorites. You hesitated, a mix of longing and practicality battling in your mind. “Put that back,” you said softly, glancing at the price tag. It was enough to make your pockets hurt. It was the good kind of cookies – artisan, with premium dark chocolate.

“Why?” Rin asked, holding the box up as if examining it more closely. “You like these cookies.”

“They’re way over our budget,” you explained, trying to ignore how much you wanted to take them home. God, those cookies and some hot cocoa with marshmallows on top, along with a good show playing on TV? If you had some TV! Wouldn’t that be wonderful? It’d be the perfect way to spend winter at home.

“But these are your favorite,” he insisted, and there was a warmth in his voice that made you stop and look at him.

You frowned slightly, confused. “How’d you know that? I never told you.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You keep eyeing them each time we come down this aisle, and it’s the only thing you finish in one sitting. This is the only snack you never portion out. You last ate these two months ago.”

Your heart skipped a beat, touched by how closely he paid attention to the smallest things. His eyes were soft, full of a tenderness that made you momentarily forget the cold and the weight of everything else.

“Come on,” he urged gently, placing the box of cookies in the cart despite your earlier protest. “We’re not going to starve if you let yourself have this treat.”

You wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes made you relent. There was something so sweet, so earnest about the way he cared for you, even in these small moments. You found yourself smiling, warmth spreading through you as you let the moment sink in. And you tried so very had, you really did, to forget about the price tag. He was right that you wouldn’t starve. Still, you couldn’t afford to be careless, just as you didn’t have the heart to say no to him when he seemed like he’d be moments away from getting down on his knees and say ‘just get the damned cookies!’ It almost made you laugh, and you thought about how Rintaro was slowly becoming more like the Rintaro you’d known – before everything fell apart.

How he’d always watched you closely to know everything you liked. How you’d often find everything you were eyeing at your bedroom the next day, with a handwritten card for him that read: anything that catches your eye is yours. love, rin. How he always knew you wanted something before you even said it out loud.

The titles had been stripped off of you, and the grandeur was left behind in a kingdom that lost its glory. But he was still Rin, your Rin. And you liked him a little more when he didn’t have his Crown.

As you continued down the aisle, your hand still firmly in his, you let his warmth seep into you. You went into an automatic mode after that – just following him around while he picked out the cheapest products to restock. He struggled a little when your hand was still tightly wound in his, though he made no move to move away.

The cold, biting air greeted you again as you and Rin stepped out of the grocery store, the sky a dull gray that hinted at more snow to come. Rin insisted on carrying all the bags, despite how heavy they were, his breath growing visible in the cold as he shouldered the weight without complaint. His broad shoulders hunched slightly against the chill, but he kept his usual calm demeanor, his focus entirely on getting everything to the car.

You both had recently managed to get a car – a cheap, low-key one that didn’t attract much attention. It was far from the luxurious vehicles you were once accustomed to, but it was practical, blending in perfectly with the other cars in town. As Rin loaded the bags into the trunk, you couldn’t help but watch him. Rin kept a careful distance as he moved, his hesitance evident. Even now, after everything you had been through together, there was still a space between you –an invisible line that he seemed too afraid to cross. He was always respectful, always careful, but you could see it in his eyes, in the way he held himself back: he still felt like he wasn’t good enough for you, like he was just a nobody and you were still the princess, despite the life you were trying to build together. And he couldn’t be any more wrong.

The drive back to the cabin was quiet, the car heater humming softly as you passed through the snow-covered landscape. It felt almost like playing house, like you were a normal husband and wife just going about their day, but there was that undercurrent of tension, the unspoken fears and doubts that Rin carried with him, no matter how much you tried to show him that none of it mattered to you. Because everyone knew, the whole world knew, you weren’t a normal husband and wife. You’d been a Princess and he’d been a Prince, both destined to be great leaders only to come out like this – walking in public with your heads down, faces concealed, and desperately trying to mask your accent in the hopes no one would pick up on the recognizable Inarizaki dialects. Normal married couples didn’t go around falling for people outside their marriages, too, yet here you were. Rintaro with an ex-girlfriend he almost had a family with if she hadn’t aborted, and you… You looked out the window, shaking away any thoughts of him.

It’d been six months. Six months where you didn’t utter his name. Six months where you refused to bring up to your memory how his voice sounded like, how his curls felt so soft when you ran your hands through it. You’d lived for a good six months without him, and you were determined to never think about him ever again.

This was the life you had now – a life where Kiyoomi couldn’t fit in the puzzle pieces. He was someone you loved in the past, and whatever lingering feelings that still longed for him, whatever dreams of his face that haunted you and kept you awake at night – all of it had to be buried. Because all you had was Rintaro, and you were all he had, too. Never in a million years could you abandon your husband for a twisted, short-lived love affair.

He’s free now, you reminded yourself. If I went back to him… he would’ve never been freed from everything that made him miserable. It’s what you tell yourself when no one was looking. It’s what you prayed to believe every night, what you hoped to be real when you knew you still would’ve loved to hear from him.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you both worked to bring the groceries inside, setting them on the small kitchen counter. The cabin was warm, a contrast to the biting cold outside, and you could see Rin visibly relax once you were indoors. Still, he kept that distance, even as you unpacked the bags together. You handed him the box of cookies, a small smile playing on your lips.

“You know,” you began softly, watching him place the cookies in the pantry, “I don’t care about any of it.”

He paused, his back to you, but you saw the slight stiffening of his shoulders. “Any of what?” he asked, his voice careful, guarded.

“All of it,” you replied, stepping closer to him, your hand gently resting on his arm. “The money, the status... all of it.”

Rin turned to look at you, his dark eyes searching yours, still filled with that doubt, that lingering fear that he wasn’t enough. You could see how deeply it pained him, the thought that he might be holding you back, that he wasn’t worthy of the life you were building together.

“You’re all I care about,” you continued, your voice steady, hoping he could hear the truth in your words. I’ve forgotten him. I chose you. I need to forget him – I don’t want to think about him. “I don’t care that we’re not living in a palace or that we have to drive around in a beat-up old car. This–” you gestured around the cozy cabin, the groceries, the simple life you were making together “–this is enough for me. You’re enough for me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at you like he was trying to find the right words. The tension between you felt thick, almost tangible, as you waited for him to respond. Then, with a slow, almost reluctant nod, Rin let out a breath, the weight on his shoulders seeming to ease just a fraction.

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was something in his eyes –something that told you he was trying to believe it, trying to let go of that doubt, even if it would take time.

You smiled at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest as you reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. He leaned into your touch, just slightly, as if testing the waters, and for a moment, the space between you seemed to disappear. It hurt to see him hold himself back, to watch him act as if he had to prove himself worthy of your presence, of your love. You wished he could see himself the way you saw him: the man who had sacrificed everything, who had chosen you despite the dangers, who had stood by you when the world crumbled around you.

As you stood there, close enough to feel the warmth of his body against yours, you knew that this was where you belonged – with him, in this quiet, simple life. It wasn’t the life you had once imagined for yourself, filled with grandeur and endless possibilities, but it was a life that was real, a life built on shared struggles and small, precious moments like this. You had made your choice, and it was Rin you chose – Rin you would stay with, no matter how your heart had once pulled in another direction.

There was a time when the thought of leaving the man you truly loved would have been unbearable, when the idea of letting go of that dream would have broken you. But now, standing beside Rin, you realized that you had already begun to let go, to accept that some things were not meant to be. You had chosen loyalty, not just out of duty, but because you wanted to. You wanted to build something new, something solid, with the man who had been through so much with you. And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to believe it too.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment, averting his gaze to stare at his feet instead. “It’s not… it’s going to take me a while. To become who you want, I mean. And I’m not sure if it’s going to be worth the wait but I just wanted you to know that… that I’m trying. I really am. I don’t know if I’ll ever get there, but I hope when I do, if I do, you’re still going be there.”

You nodded, a small, relieved laugh escaping your lips. “I was always there for you, aren’t I?” Rintaro nodded, his lips pursing because your words had rang true. Even in his worst, darkest moments, you hadn’t ran away. You still went back to his arms, no matter how angry you’d been, because it had always been him without question. You just hoped that he would choose you, too. “So…” you smiled in hopes to lighten up the mood, “Are you cooking tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll take care of dinner,” he gestured to the grocery bags, “You go and change.”

You stepped into the bedroom, the familiar creak of the door a reminder of how much your life had changed. The room was small, a far cry from the grandeur of the palace, but it was cozy, filled with the little things that had come to mean so much more to you now. You pulled off your sweater and jeans, slipping into something more comfortable –a soft, worn shirt and loose pants. The cabin was warm, the faint crackle of the fireplace in the living room filling the silence as you looked out the window at the snow-covered mountains. It was hard to believe that this was your life now, so far removed from the chaos and danger that had once consumed every waking moment.

The smell of food wafted into the room, drawing you out of your thoughts.

Rin was in the kitchen, moving around with a quiet focus. He wasn’t the best cook, but he was trying, learning how to make simple meals from scratch. There was something endearing about the way he concentrated on getting things just right, even if it didn’t always turn out perfect. Tonight, though, the food smelled good – comforting, familiar, like home. You walked back into the living room, where Rin had set two plates on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. He glanced up at you as you entered, his expression softening as he took you in.

It was these moments that made everything worth it, the quiet, unspoken understanding between the two of you as you navigated this new life together.

Smiling, you sat down beside him on the sofa, the warmth of his body seeping into yours as you both began to eat. The food was simple –some kind of stew with bread on the side – but it was good, better than you’d expected. The radio played softly in the background, the crackling voice of the announcer delivering the latest international news. You listened as you ate, the names and events pulling you back to the world you’d left behind.

The news from Inarizaki was a mix of the familiar and the unexpected.

First Prince Ushijima Wakatoshi had been appointed and crowned as King – a solid, dependable choice, just as you’d always known he would be. Third Prince Kita Shinsuke had renounced his title and become a lawmaker, a decision that surprised you, though you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him finally finding his own path. The news of his engagement to Airi Yamamoto, a former maid of the palace, was even more surprising, but it made sense in a way. Kita had always been grounded, and maybe that was what he needed now. Besides, him and Airi finding love and coming out triumphant despite all the struggles… they really were a testament that sometimes, love could prevail all.

The next segment of the news, however, had your husband stiffening beside you.

Former Princess Iris Amari had been imprisoned, facing a lifetime behind bars, along with the former Queen Suna. It was hard to feel anything for them now – anger, sadness, pity – it all felt so distant, like a story you’d once heard but no longer cared to remember. Prince Tooru and Princess Maiko were expecting their first child, a new life that would carry the legacy of the royal family forward. The youngest prince, Tobio, had been chosen to represent Inarizaki in the Olympics for the Men’s Volleyball division – a bright future ahead of him, far away from the shadows of the palace.

The mention of Tobio's name made your heart ache. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him standing tall on that global stage, doing what he loved most.

But as the pride swelled in your chest, it was accompanied by a deep, gnawing sadness. Tobio had always felt like a younger brother to you, the one person in the palace who had looked up to you without judgment, who had never asked for more than your time and affection. You missed him – the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about volleyball, the bond you shared.

Leaving him behind was one of the hardest things you had to do. You wished you could have explained things to him, reassured him that your departure wasn’t abandonment. But you��d left so abruptly, without a word, and now you feared that he might think you’d chosen to disappear without a care for him. The thought of him being upset, of him feeling betrayed by your absence, weighed heavily on you.

You hoped that one day, he’d understand. That he’d see why you had to leave and that it wasn’t because you didn’t love him. You wished more than anything that you could reach out to him, but for now, all you could do was hope – hope that he was happy, that he wasn’t burdened by your absence, and that he knew, somehow, that you were still watching over him from afar, still caring for him like the older sister you’d always been.

And then there was Prince Kiyoomi.

The name hit you like a punch to the gut, even though you’d been expecting it. Recently annulled, he had chosen to return to his home country, Itachiyama, taking an official break from his royal duties. The words felt heavy, final, like a door closing that you hadn’t quite been ready to walk away from. But it was done, and there was no going back.

You tried to picture him in Itachiyama, back in that quiet, secluded farmhouse nestled among the rolling hills. The place he had always spoken of with such fondness, a sanctuary far removed from the demands of royal life. You wondered if he was happier there now, free from the suffocating expectations and endless scrutiny that had plagued his days in the palace.

Was he finding peace in the simplicity of farm life, surrounded by the familiar sights and sounds of his childhood? Or did the walls of that old farmhouse remind him of the time you were together, of the dreams you had once shared, and the future you had both believed in? The life you could’ve had together?

The thought of him there, alone, made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected. You could almost see him – sitting on the porch, the wind tousling his dark hair as he gazed out over the fields, lost in thought. Did he think of you in those quiet moments, or had he pushed you from his mind, determined to move on, just as you were trying to do?

You wanted to believe that he was content, that he had found some semblance of happiness in his old life. But the part of you that still loved him, that still felt the sting of losing him, couldn’t help but wonder if he was as heartbroken as you were.

Every time you heard his name, it was like reopening an old wound, the pain as fresh and raw as the day you had walked away. You had chosen this path, and you knew it was the right one for you and Rintaro. But that didn’t make the loss any less real, or the memories any less painful. The farmhouse in Itachiyama loomed large in your mind, a symbol of everything you had given up, and everything you could never get back. And in the quiet of your new life, far away from the palace and its ghosts, you couldn’t help but wonder if he, too, was haunted by the same memories, and if he, too, wished that things could have been different.

But what if it had been different? What if the police never went after Rintaro? What if… your husband simply left the Palace, knowing it was never a place to call his, and you’d proceeded with the annulment under the grounds that it was never a valid royal marriage?

The government would’ve let you go. No one would question your decisions, especially not after it’d been revealed to the world how Rintaro loved Iris first. And they’d been so close, too, to getting what they wanted. So close to living the life you believed to be yours, so close to having the family you dreamt of building with him. A life you’d long let go of, just as you’d decided to choose Kiyoomi when Rintaro no longer wanted you.

And yet, you were here, on the other side of the world and more than a thousand miles away from the quiet Prince who’d silently stole your heart with his actions more than his words. Here you were, anywhere but where he was.

If it had been different…

You took a deep breath, pushing the thoughts away as you leaned a little closer to Rin, letting your shoulder rest against his. He was here, with you, and that was what mattered now. The world outside could change and shift, but this – this quiet, simple life with him – was yours to keep. It wasn’t the life you dreamt of having. It would never be the life you would’ve chose to live had you had any other choice, but it was yours now. It was all you had. It was the only path you could’ve chosen, because you knew one thing to be true: the farther you were from Kiyoomi, the safer he would be.

As you finished your meal, you set your plate aside and turned the radio off, letting the silence settle around you both. Rin reached out, his hand finding yours, and you laced your fingers together, feeling the steady, reassuring warmth of his grip. It was a small thing, but it meant everything in between – I’m sorry, his touch seemed to say, as if he knew he’d stolen away your future. It’s okay, you squeezed back, putting on your softest smile as you ignored the desperate singing of another’s name from your heart.

After dinner, the two of you moved in quiet harmony, cleaning up the remnants of the meal and tidying the small kitchen.

The routine had become familiar, though not yet second nature. It was strange how quickly you had adapted to this new life – this simple, quiet existence where the luxuries of your past were nothing but distant memories. With the dishes done and the fire in the hearth dying down, you and Rintaro made your way to bed, the weight of the day settling heavily on your weary shoulders.

Usually, it was you who fell asleep first, the exhaustion of chores you were still learning how to do pulling you into an early slumber. But tonight, sleep didn’t seem to want to knock on your door. As you lay on your side of the bed, you noticed Rintaro’s breathing had already evened out, his body finally succumbing to the fatigue that had clung to him since morning. You watched him for a moment, his face softened by sleep, and you felt a pang of tenderness, mixed with something deeper – guilt, perhaps, or the remnants of a love that had once been your whole world.

Your thoughts drifted, unbidden, to Kiyoomi.

It was a mistake to let your mind wander there, but tonight you couldn’t help it. The realization came suddenly, hitting you with a quiet, painful intensity – you didn’t even have a picture of him. No physical reminders of the man who had once been your everything. You tried to recall his face, the sharpness of his features, the warmth in his eyes when he looked at you, but the image was already starting to blur. Time would do that, you knew. It would erode the edges of your memories until he was nothing more than a distant shadow in your mind. You would forget what he looked like, the sound of his voice, the way his touch had made you feel safe, loved. You could search for him, you supposed. His name would be easy enough to find, even without a phone, but you knew that would only make things harder. Seeing his face now, seeing him move on without you – it would be a fresh wound, one you weren’t ready to bear. And there was this dark voice at the back of your head warning you that you might grow weak, that you might succumb to your longing and run back to his arms if you caught a glimpse of his face.

So you couldn’t. You had to push him away, because you couldn’t push Rintaro out of your life.

The bed felt colder tonight, lonelier, even with Rintaro beside you. The space between you both seemed to stretch impossibly wide, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You longed for Kiyoomi in a way that was almost physical, a deep ache in your chest that you couldn’t soothe. But you were here now, with Rintaro, and this was your life. This was the choice you had made. A choice you couldn’t begin to regret now.

Just as you began to drift into a restless sleep, you heard it – a low, anguished moan coming from Rintaro. You turned to him, finding him caught in the throes of a nightmare, his body tense, his face twisted in fear and pain. He whimpered, and your heart clenched at the sound. Without thinking, you reached out to wake him, your hand gentle on his arm. But before you could, he jolted awake, eyes wide and frantic, searching the darkness as if expecting to find your side of the bed empty.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, your voice calm despite the storm inside you. “You’re okay, Rin. It was just a nightmare.”

He turned to you, his expression a mix of disbelief and relief. “You didn’t leave,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You shook your head, reaching out to touch his face, to ground him in the reality of your presence as you brushed his bangs away from his eyes. He saw you a little better under the light, and he stared hard, scrutinizing your features as if he wondered if you were real.

“No, of course not. I’m right here with you.”

His eyes held yours for a moment, searching for something – reassurance, comfort, perhaps a sign that you truly meant what you said. Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease, though you could still feel the lingering effects of whatever horrors had haunted his dreams. You stayed like that for a while, your hand trailing down his cheek, his gaze locked on yours, until finally, he closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

You lay back down beside him, but sleep was still far from your grasp. Instead, you stared up at the ceiling, your thoughts spinning in the darkness.

You had chosen to stay, to forget the man you once loved and to build a life with the man beside you. But the memories of Kiyoomi lingered, just as Rintaro’s fears lingered, both of you trapped in a past you couldn’t entirely leave behind. And as the night wore on, you found yourself hoping – praying – that time would work its magic, that the wounds would heal, and that one day, this life would feel like enough. That this life would stop feeling like it was something you would want to run away from.

The mornings in the mountains were always serene, the world still wrapped in a blanket of soft mist as the sun slowly began its ascent. The forest, with its towering trees and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, had become a place of both comfort and anxiety for you. It was here that Rin had started his morning walks, slipping out of bed before dawn to find solace in the quiet solitude of the woods. But each time he left, a knot of worry tightened in your chest, fearing that one day he might not come back.

Today was no different.

You had woken early, as you had been doing for the past few months, to join him on these walks. The crisp morning air was cool against your skin, and the soft crunch of leaves beneath your boots was the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. Rin walked beside you, his hand warm around yours, guiding you through the familiar path.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the trees, you glanced up at him. His face was calm, but you could see the lingering shadows of sleepless nights in his eyes. He squeezed your hand gently, and then, as if drawn by some invisible force, he leaned in to kiss your cheek, the gesture as natural as breathing.

“I’m not sure I like this morning routine of yours,” you murmured, breaking the silence that had settled between you.

Rin’s lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I just have trouble sleeping, and taking a walk calms my mind.”

Rin’s nightmares had become a constant presence in your lives, a dark shadow that clung to the quiet of the night. At first, they were sporadic, just an occasional disruption to your sleep. You would wake to find him thrashing beside you, his breaths ragged and shallow as he wrestled with the demons of his past. A soft touch or a whispered word would be enough to calm him, to pull him back from whatever horrors plagued his dreams. But as the months passed, the nightmares grew more frequent, more intense.

There were nights when you would wake to the sound of his strangled cries, his body drenched in sweat, the bed sheets twisted around him as if they were binding him in place. His face, usually so composed, would be contorted in fear or pain, his hands gripping the mattress as though it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. It was in those moments that your heart ached the most, seeing the man you loved tormented by memories he couldn’t escape.

You tried to help him, staying awake late into the night, watching over him like a silent guardian. But the more you observed, the more you realized how deeply the nightmares had taken root. There were times when he would mumble incoherently in his sleep, his words a jumbled mix of regret and sorrow, apologies meant for someone he couldn’t reach. Sometimes, he would wake up with a start, his eyes wide and unseeing, as if still trapped in the nightmare’s grip, and it would take him several minutes to recognize where he was, to remember that he was safe.

The worst nights were the ones where he would fall back into sleep only to be dragged into another nightmare almost immediately. You would feel him trembling beside you, his breath hitching as the terror took hold again. On those nights, the darkness seemed endless, stretching on forever with no relief in sight. You could do nothing but hold him, your own heart pounding in fear for him, wishing you could take away his pain.

It wasn’t just the nights that were affected. The lack of restful sleep began to take its toll on Rin during the day. He moved through your quiet life in the mountains with a heaviness that hadn’t been there before, his shoulders constantly slumped, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. The spark that had once lit up his gaze when he looked at you was dimmed, replaced by a haunted expression that he couldn’t quite shake.

You worried for him constantly, the anxiety gnawing at you with each passing day.

The isolation of your new life, which had once felt like a blessing, now felt like a curse. There was no one here to help him, no one who could offer him the support he so desperately needed. It was just the two of you, alone in the mountains, and you felt helpless in the face of his suffering.

Rin tried to hide it, of course. He would force a smile when you looked at him too long, crack a joke to ease the tension, or brush off your concern with a wave of his hand. But you could see through the façade, see how the nightmares had begun to wear him down, chipping away at his spirit bit by bit.

As the year wore on, the nightmares became a fixture of your life, an inescapable reality that you both had to endure. And with each one, your fear grew.

You feared for Rin, for the toll this was taking on him, and you feared for the future, wondering how much longer he could withstand this torment before it broke him completely. You feared that the man you loved might one day be consumed by the darkness that haunted his dreams, and that no matter how tightly you held on to him, it wouldn’t be enough to pull him back.

You knew what that meant. The nightmares still haunted him, though he rarely spoke of them. You stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him fully. “Is it the nightmares?” you asked softly, your voice filled with concern. “Next time, you should wake me up so I can be there for you.”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked at you. “I don’t know… You need to get all the rest you need.”

“Rin,” you said, your tone gentle but firm. “We’re not really doing anything here that takes up too much of my time. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten all the rest that I need.”

He let out a soft sigh, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Fine,” he relented, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice.

“You really should’ve woken me up sooner,” you continued, your tone lightening as you tried to ease the tension. “I would’ve loved watching every sunrise with you.”

He smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a pause, a beat of silence where you could almost feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. And then, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he asked, “Do you… do you still think about him?”

You knew immediately who he meant. The name lingered between you, unspoken but understood. “Kiyoomi.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Do you miss him?”

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment, the familiar ache of longing tugging at your heart. “I do… A lot,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “But it doesn’t change a thing for me. I’d still keep on choosing to be here with you.”

He looked at you, his gaze searching, as if trying to find the truth in your words. “You really don’t regret it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, a small, reassuring smile playing on your lips. “No. I think this is the quietest my life’s ever been, and I never thought that was possible.”

“I don’t know,” Rin said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he tried to lighten the mood. “Your life used to be pretty dull before you met me.”

You chuckled softly, the sound carrying on the cool morning air. “That’s true. My life took an unexpected turn when you came into my world.”

His smile faltered slightly, the guilt he carried still evident in his eyes. “I know it’s not going to change anything, but I’m really sorry for everything I did to you.”

You reached up, cupping his face gently in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “I know you are,” you said softly. “I won’t ever forget it, you know. The pain that you put me through. But I won’t hold it against you forever, either – we both need to move on. And the past year of being here with you… you’ve been greater to me than you ever were.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into your touch, as if trying to absorb the comfort you offered. “I’m trying to make up for it.”

“I don’t regret it,” you repeated, your voice steady and full of conviction. “I don’t regret you.”

His eyes opened, meeting yours with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “I know,” he said quietly. “I hope you never do.”

You and Rin had carved out a life here in the mountains, hidden away from the world, surviving on the money you had brought with you. It wasn’t much, and you knew it wouldn’t last forever, but for now, it was enough. Finding jobs was out of the question – exposure would be too dangerous, a risk neither of you could afford to take. So, you made do with what you had, stretching every resource as far as it could go.

Despite the limitations, you found a happiness that you hadn’t known was possible. The tension and fear that had defined so much of your past were gone, replaced by a warmth that grew between you and Rin.

You fell into a routine that was both simple yet deeply fulfilling – so domestic that you sometimes were struck in awe that it was possible for you and him to never argue. You cooked meals with what ingredients you had, experimenting with recipes and flavors that were new to you. Rin would clean up after, meticulously washing the dishes and wiping down the counters, always taking care to leave the kitchen spotless. It was a dance you both moved through effortlessly, a silent understanding that had formed over time on who took over which chores.

In this secluded life, you and Rin had grown more affectionate, the distance that once existed between you slowly dissolving.

It was as if you had been transported back in time to the days when he was still courting you, the days when every touch, every glance, had been filled with the thrill of new love. Now, there were stolen kisses in the middle of the day, hands that found each other in the quiet moments, and long nights spent tangled together under the blankets. It was a closeness that you had never imagined you would have with him, a warmth that made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t for years.

One chilly afternoon, you found yourself watching Rin as he chopped wood outside the cabin, preparing to build a fire to keep you both warm. He was focused, his brow furrowed in concentration as he swung the axe with surprising precision. You couldn’t help but smile, leaning against the doorframe as you admired the scene. It was so different from the life you had known, and yet it felt right, like this was how things were always meant to be. Just as you were about to call out to him, your mind played a trick on you. Instead of Rintaro swinging the axe back, you suddenly pictured Kiyoomi – drenched with sweat, his shirt sticking to him as he effortlessly chopped wood. It would’ve been something he did normally back at the farmhouse.

You immediately blinked the image away.

Kiyoomi wasn’t here. You had your husband instead, dressed in a brown shirt instead of a white one like Kiyoomi always wore. Rintaro’s hair was longer now, too, long enough that he could tie the ends of it in a tiny ponytail – something he’d asked you to teach him once.

“Since when have you learned to chop wood?” you teased, the playful tone in your voice breaking the quiet.

Rin paused, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. He turned to you with a grin, the familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. “YouTube teaches you a lot,” he replied, his voice light. “Look up my search history. Surviving the Wilderness: Part One.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Building a fire. Huh. I never would’ve imagined.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, as he resumed chopping the wood. “Neither did I,” he admitted. “But I’m figuring it out. Just like we’re figuring everything else out. Besides, it’s almost winter, and I don’t want us to freeze our asses off.”

You watched him for a moment longer, feeling a swell of affection as you took in the sight of him – strong, determined, doing whatever it took to keep you both safe and comfortable. The Rin you knew had always been capable, but this was different. He was adapting, learning new skills, and embracing this life with a resolve that made you love him even more.

It was in these quiet moments, surrounded by the stillness of the mountains, that you realized just how much you had both grown. The struggles you faced were real, and there were days when the challenges felt overwhelming. But you faced them together, and that made all the difference. This life was far from perfect, but it was yours, and as long as you had Rin by your side, you knew you could face anything. You wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling the chill in the air, but it was a welcome kind of cold, one that reminded you of the warmth waiting inside. Watching Rin work, you felt a deep sense of contentment, a peace that had once seemed impossible. You were no longer the princess of Inarizaki, burdened by duty and expectations. Here, in this quiet corner of the world, you were simply a woman in love, sharing a life with the man who had become your everything.

You just had to stop thinking about the Prince you’d left behind, and everything would’ve been perfect.

After storing the chopped wood neatly beside the cabin, Rin finally built the fire, the crackling warmth spreading through the small living space. The cabin had become your sanctuary, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach you. As the fire roared to life, you prepared dinner, the aroma of simmering vegetables and spices filling the room. Rin watched you for a moment, his gaze soft and affectionate, before excusing himself for his daily walk.

You still accompanied him on his morning walks, but you had noticed that sometimes, he needed those walks alone. You didn’t question it, understanding that he needed time to process everything, to find peace in his own way. So, when he left, you focused on finishing the meal, knowing he would return soon.

When Rin came back, there was a change in him. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t look like he had been battling his demons. Instead, he seemed lighter, almost happy, with a hint of excitement in his eyes. You looked up from the table as he entered, curiosity piqued by the newfound energy in his step.

“Let’s go somewhere after dinner,” he said, his voice carrying an eagerness that made you smile.

You raised an eyebrow, playfully skeptical. “We can’t go to town so soon.”

He shook his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “We’re not going to town.”

“Then where?”

“Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

Intrigued, you agreed, and after a quick meal, Rin led you out of the cabin, guiding you through the forest paths that had become so familiar. The path to the lake was one you’d walked countless times before, the familiar crunch of leaves and twigs underfoot, the cool breeze winding through the trees, and the gentle rustling of branches overhead. You knew every rock, every bend in the trail, so when Rin had suggested taking you somewhere new, you'd been skeptical. What else could there possibly be to see?

But now, as you trailed behind him, your hand held securely in his, you couldn’t help but marvel at the way he moved with purpose, as if he were leading you somewhere magical. His broad back seemed to block the rest of the world from view, the strength in his stride grounding you, keeping you tethered right at his side. You couldn’t help the warmth blooming through your chest. A hundred times, you’d held his hand. A hundred times, you’d breathed in his scent – the smell of the soap you both shared, the scent of the cheap laundry detergent, and the hint of pine from the trees whenever he spent the day outside. A hundred times you’d had him, and still, you were caught taken aback during times like these.

He was mine now. A sentiment you had always held within your close, so confidently and so true. He was yours as you were his, even before he’d placed rings on your fingers. But this time? It felt real. Here, in the middle of nowhere where the titles are gone and your names were different on the rare times people would ask, you’d never felt more like yourself. More like his wife. Unconsciously, you squeezed his hand tighter as you let him lead you deeper into the forest.

Because you knew you would’ve followed him wherever he went.

The trees began to thin as you entered a clearing, and that’s when you saw it – a lake, nestled quietly in the heart of the woods, its surface shimmering beneath the glow of the moon. It stretched out before you, the dark water rippling gently with the breeze, reflecting the sky in a way that made the stars seem to dance on the surface.

The moonlight kissed the edges of the lake, casting an ephemeral glow that made the scene look almost unreal. The trees encircling the water stood tall and proud, their shadows dancing across the surface, adding a touch of mystery to the place. It felt secluded, hidden from the rest of the world, a secret just for the two of you. You stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The cold, biting air nipped at your skin, but the beauty of the scene made you forget the chill. Rin stood beside you now, his hand still entwined with yours.

“Oh, Rin,” you breathed, taking in the serene beauty before you. “It’s so beautiful here.”

His smile widened, pleased by your reaction. “Come on. Let’s take a dip.”

You hesitated, the chill in the air making you shiver slightly. “Isn’t it too cold for you?”

He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his warmth. “I have you to warm me up.”

The moment you both dipped into the water, a sharp chill shot through your body, making you shiver and gasp at the coldness of it. Rin winced too, his shoulders tense as he adjusted to the sudden temperature. But neither of you retreated. Instead, you splashed water at him, laughing as he sputtered in surprise. He retaliated by sending a wave of water your way, both of you caught up in a playful exchange that echoed through the trees.

“Oh, you want to play like that, huh?” he spat out water, his eyes narrowed in a threat. A squeal erupted out of you when you saw him begin to flick water your direction.

The moonlight reflected off the surface of the lake, glistening as your laughter filled the night. You moved closer to Rin, clinging to him as he waded deeper, your body shaking with giggles and shivers alike. His arms were solid, reassuring as they held you steady in the water. Instinctively, you flattened your feet against his sides, hoping to steal some of his warmth, earning a quiet grumble from him. But even as he complained, you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.

You stayed like that, the two of you laughing so hard your sides ached, your cheeks flushed from the cold and the pure joy of the moment. It felt as though time had stopped, and the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, weightless and free in the water. In that instant, nothing else mattered. It was perfect in its simplicity, a memory you could hold onto forever.

As you swam closer to him, the water rippling gently between you, there was a shift in the air.

Something heavy, almost tangible, lingered between you and Rin – an unspoken tension that made the world around you slow. You locked eyes with him, and for a moment, neither of you moved. His gaze, dark and contemplative, held yours, the weight of it sending a different kind of shiver through your body, one that had nothing to do with the cold water. The playful splashing and laughter from earlier faded into the background, leaving only the quiet sounds of the lake and the soft rustling of the trees around you.

There was a hesitation. You’d kissed Rin before – many times. It had always felt effortless, natural, like something you did without thinking, a reflex born of the years you’d spent together. But this time, the air between you was charged with something deeper, something more complicated. Both of you stood still, suspended in that delicate moment where time felt like it might fracture under the weight of what you were too afraid to say aloud.

The past lingered in the space between your bodies, reminding you of the others who had once filled your hearts. The love that still tugged at you when you thought of those times, those people. It wasn’t something either of you could escape. You had both longed for someone else, had lives once built on dreams you thought would come true with others. Yet here you were, drawn back to one another, the years of distance and heartache only sharpening the realization that what remained between you was real.

Rin made the first move, his hand hesitantly reaching out to you under the water. When his fingers curled gently around yours, it felt like a quiet promise, a reassurance. Slowly, carefully, he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. There was no rush, no urgency. Just the steady, unspoken acknowledgment that this was different. It had always been different.

As his face neared yours, you could feel your heart pounding, not with the excitement of something new, but with the quiet realization of something you had known all along. Rin leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly, as though he were testing the waters of a deeper truth. The kiss wasn’t fiery or overwhelming. There were no butterflies, no fireworks exploding behind your eyes. Instead, it was gentle, tender—like the first sip of warm tea on a cold night. His lips were familiar, comforting, and the way they moved against yours felt like coming home after a long, exhausting journey.

You breathed him in, his scent mingling with the damp earth and crisp air around you. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, not out of desire but out of need—an unspoken need for the stability and love he had always offered. The world around you seemed to blur, fading into the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the gentle splash of water as you floated together in that quiet, peaceful moment.

There was a sweetness to the kiss, but it carried with it the weight of the past—the knowledge of all you had endured to reach this point. It wasn’t the kind of kiss that sent your heart racing; it was the kind that settled deep into your bones, reminding you of everything you had been through together, of all the things that couldn’t be undone. It was as if, in that one moment, the years of distance, pain, and longing were washed away, leaving only the simplicity of what had always been between you.

Rin held you close, his touch soft yet secure, and for the first time in a long while, you felt utterly safe. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his lips moved with a quiet reverence, made you feel like you belonged. Not to the world, or to the kingdom you’d left behind, but to him. To this moment.

There was no rush. No desperation. Only the slow, steady realization that the love you had for each other had never left. It had simply been buried beneath the weight of all the things you thought you needed to be, all the expectations and dreams that hadn’t worked out. And now, standing here with him, feeling the solidity of his presence, you knew that this was what you had been looking for all along.

The kiss ended softly, naturally, like the final notes of a lullaby, and when you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, eyes closed, soaking in the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t about passion, or excitement, or even romance. It was about finding peace in each other’s presence, knowing that no matter where life took you, this moment, this love, was the only constant.

You didn’t need the world. You didn’t need anything beyond what you had right there with him. The ache in your heart for what was lost still lingered, but it no longer hurt. It was just… there, like a distant memory. Something that had shaped you, but no longer defined you.

“I really don’t deserve you,” Rin whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the peaceful night.

You pressed a finger to his lips, silencing his doubt. “Shhh. Nothing could hurt us now.”

He held you tighter, his face buried in your neck, and for a moment, you both just breathed, letting the quiet reassurance of your love settle between you. The weight of the past year, the fear, the guilt—it all seemed to fade in the embrace of the night, leaving only the two of you, together, stronger than ever.

For the first time in a long time, you felt truly safe. The world might have changed, your titles and riches might have been left behind, but here, with Rin, you had found something far more valuable – the promise of a marriage you’d always longed for.

Rin loved this life with you, however undeserving he thought he was.

He got to wake up next to you every morning, shared every meal with you, and could kiss and touch you whenever he liked. It wasn’t always this easy, though, he’d admit. You hadn’t always been so… giving. He knew this, because he was always watching, always looking at you whenever you thought he wouldn’t notice. And he wasn’t stupid. He’d known you for many years, had spent most of that time analyzing the slightest twitch of your brows, down to the most miniscule curl of your lip to try and decode what those gestures meant. He knew, without a doubt, you still thought of him. He also knew, undoubtedly, and with pure conviction, that you loved him still.

Just not the way you used to.

He’d long given up on that – the possibility that things would go back to the way it was. Rintaro had thrown out that absurd idea out the window. The hurt would always remain, and the lies he’d spilled would be etched bone-deep until the day he reached his grave. You wouldn’t ever forgive him, but this… having you in his home, having you in his arms, being allowed the freedom to still speak your name with that softness he’d never had with anyone before, it was enough. It would be enough, for now. He just had to pretend he couldn’t see you – the way you would tuck your cheek onto your shoulder, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you shut your eyes, each time his arm would wrap your waist before a slight, barely noticeable grimace would settle onto your features. You always acted on instinct, to always turn away and flinch each time he got near.

You thought he’d never notice. The way your eyes turn downcast, or the way your hands go still around the cheap cereal bowl you’d gotten at a fleece market each time something reminded you of the Prince you’d left behind. Each time his name was mentioned in the radio, you would freeze, your gaze travelling off the distance even though there was nothing to see but trees beyond the windows.

You thought Rintaro wouldn’t see all those things.

Nearly two years later, Rintaro could barely recognize you.

Gone was the woman he’d laid his eyes on at Tobio’s ball, the one bedazzled with the jewelry even the former Queen couldn’t have. Gone was the woman who was pampered and beloved by all. There was just you, and the faint traces of it. You’d lost weight – not enough to worry him, but enough to remind him of the comfortable and secure life he’d robbed you of, regardless if it had been your choice, too. And during the early hours of the day when sleep wouldn’t come to him, you always cried. Always. Sometimes, you cried out for your mother. But more often than not, you would always whisper his name, the sound so broken and desperate that it almost sounded like a plea. You would clutch the thin sheet (a poor excuse of a blanket, really) up to your chest, and keep crying in your sleep. The next day when you woke, Rintaro is sitting shock-still beside you on your bed, and you wonder why he couldn’t sleep at all.

You loved him. Rintaro knew that – you wouldn’t have risked it all and came with him if there wasn’t a tiny part in your heart that held him still. But he also knew you loved Kiyoomi and missed him dearly, so much so that Rintaro often has to fight the urge to call his brother and have him take you away.

Some days, he pondered on just that.

How easy it would be to buy a phone on the rare times he went downtown, call Kiyoomi, and ask him to finally come get you. He wouldn’t know what the consequences of that would be. For all he knew, he could be putting you in more danger by exposing you to the eyes of the Kingdom. He knew, however, that you might not hate the idea so much – that you might even thank him for taking on the burden of making the decision for you. Rintaro wasn’t foolish enough to not recognize that you had this pleading look in your eyes sometimes, one that begged at him to become the bad guy again, to give you a reason to run away. Maybe you wouldn’t be so inclined to stay with him anymore if he’d just let his true colors to be revealed.

Try as he might, Rintaro couldn’t find it in himself to give you anymore reasons to hate him. If anything, it was the opposite. It took him nearly a year to realize your heart was too big, too pure. No matter how much he kept his distance, telling himself that being together didn’t have to mean being together, he would always be drawn to you – and you would always coax him out of the protective walls he’d set up around his heart.

You were always there, and he hated it. He hated how you never gave him even the smallest moment to stop loving you. It could’ve been easier for him that way. Instead, you were the first thing he laid his eyes on when he woke, his name the first thing you would utter in that sleepy, raspy voice of yours as you smiled up at him with the first stretch of sunlight. How could he do it, then? How could he fall out of love with you when he’d lost everything except you? That thought itself sometimes had him wondering, too, if you loved him out of loyalty, or if you loved him because like him, you simply had nothing and no one else.

But that wouldn’t be entirely true, could it? You had your parents. You had Kiyoomi. You had some of the Princes wrapped around your finger – one who loved you like a sister, one who had a former adoration for you, and one with an unwavering loyalty in his support.

You could still have a second chance in life.

Rintaro didn’t have that anymore.

It was that realization in mind that gave him the courage to start lying to you again. Unbeknownst to you, Rintaro had been visiting the town more often. It started off as just once a week, familiarizing himself with the shops and hidden passages he could easily sneak off to. Then he began visiting more often, twice a week to finally buy a phone and contact his not-so brother.

Shinsuke, no longer Prince Kita, was now a lawmaker. From the few and far occurrences where he’d been in touch with the older man, he’d understood why Shinsuke made that decision. He’d had enough of the darkness and corruption of the monarchy – couldn’t see himself holding onto the respectable title of Prince now that he’d learned of everything the former Queen, and some of his brothers, did. Drowning in shame and anger at the Palace he’d once called home, he renounced his title and set out to make things better. With his goals aligned with Wakatoshi, who had now been crowned King, Inarizaki was recovering – little by little.

And they’d talked about you.

Wakatoshi wasn’t entirely pleased after finding out that you and Rintaro had upped and left. It didn’t change the fact you were both still criminals in the eyes of the Kingdom, but it was a Kingdom that was his. And as stoic as he may be, Wakatoshi wasn’t unforgiving. It took a few more months of convincing before he finally agreed to give you another chance – you. Not him. Regardless of whether Rintaro had never willingly played the part of the Queen’s pawn to secure her title, Wakatoshi and Shinsuke both couldn’t find any post for Rintaro within the Royal Family where he could return. But you did – you could return, and be forgiven. You could have a second chance in life.

Rintaro had never wanted to lie to you again, but he couldn’t stop it. For many nights, and many more months to come, he was only plagued by one thought as he counted his last day: the urge to finally give you the life you deserved.

Someday, he promised, I’ll make it all right for you.

Rintaro woke up before dawn, the faint light just beginning to creep through the curtains. You were still asleep beside him, your breath slow and steady, your face soft with peace that was rare in the waking world. For a moment, he let himself lie there, watching you, memorizing every detail – how your hair fanned out on the pillow, the curve of your lips, the way you unconsciously curled toward him.

He was living the dream. Every morning, he woke up next to you, and he could kiss you whenever he wanted. It was everything he’d ever hoped for when you first chose him, when you left everything behind to build this life together. But deep down, he knew it couldn’t last. This life, as peaceful as it seemed, was fragile. The simplicity, the isolation – it was wearing on you. He could see it in the way you hesitated at the store, holding back from buying the things you liked. He noticed how you’d glance at the few items in the cart and sigh quietly, as if you were measuring out not just money, but a piece of yourself each time. You were budgeting your life now, in a way that went far beyond groceries.

It wasn’t just about the material things either. You weren’t able to talk to people like you used to, to be yourself.

You were hiding. From the world, from your past, from the person you once were. You’d severed almost every connection to the ones you loved – Tobio, Kiyoomi, your family –all because you couldn’t risk being found. He’d never forget that time your mother’s birthday came around, and you excused yourself during dinner, hiding in the bathroom where you muffled your cries upon missing them. And staying here, with him, meant you’d have to keep living this way, in the shadows.

He couldn’t let it go on.

Rintaro closed his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He didn’t deserve you, he never had. And now, he was starting to see that staying with him might be ruining your life. You deserved more than this half-existence. More than the fear of being discovered, more than rationing out pieces of yourself just to survive. He wanted to keep you with him forever, but he knew deep down that this was too good to be true. One day, something would break – either the life you’d built together or your spirit. And he couldn’t bear to see you trapped any longer.

As you stirred beside him, your eyes fluttering open, he forced a smile, brushing your hair gently from your face. But in his heart, he knew what he had to do. He had to let you go. For your sake, even if it meant losing everything he ever wanted.

“Hey,” you breathed out, a small smile on your face. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he echoed, his voice croaking more than he’d like. He couldn’t help it; he felt like there was a lump in his throat, making it difficult to speak. “I’m…” I’m sorry, he wanted to say, I love you and I’m sorry. The words never left his lips. “I’m going to prepare you breakfast, and then go out to prepare some firewood.”

The lie was easy enough to tell. It was a routine you’d gotten used to – he always woke up first to prepare your meals while you showered, so you could eat right away right after. Rintaro would share his breakfast with you, often dropping a berry or two onto your plate, urging you to eat more. Shortly after, he’d disappear out in the woods to look for firewood, and you would set out to wash the laundry, or whatever it was that you did when he wasn’t around.

You didn’t question him as he left the bed. To you, it would just be any other day. But to him, it might as well be the last time he ever saw you, so he allowed himself to indulge in the sight of you a little longer.

The straps of your nightgown were slipping down one shoulder, one of your hands on top of it as you stretched your muscles. Your eyes were closed, and with the sunlight dripping behind your languid form, Rintaro was almost tempted to stay. To tell Shinsuke he’d changed his mind. To tell your parents that he was sorry, yet again, because he wanted to stay with you a little longer.

Rintaro closed the bedroom door shut behind him, willing himself to keep walking away. He couldn’t back out – not now.

The smell of breakfast cooking puled you from bed, and you quietly made your way to the kitchen, drawn in by the warmth of it all – Rintaro at the stove, the soft sizzle of food frying. He stood there, stirring something in the pan, but his mind seemed far away. You paused at the doorway, watching him. His broad shoulders, the gentle concentration etched on his face.

A smile tugged at your lips as you walked over, lightly bumping his arm. “Hey,” you teased. “You’re spacing out again.”

He’d been doing that more often. Just randomly staring out into space, and it’d take you more than three times to call out his name before he snapped out of it. It was slightly hilarious, you thought. How he went from being this effortless charmer to this almost shy, reserved man you called your husband. It was as if… the loss of his titles, and the identity he’d known, had given way to the appearance of this not-so new person. Someone quieter, someone gentler, someone more tender. You couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Nevertheless, it was slightly alarming at first. How someone could change so much – but you weren’t a stranger to that, were you? You’d seen Rintaro in his best and worst, and somehow, learned to love him in both.

He blinked, startled, then turns to you with a soft smile, shaking his head as if to clear the thoughts that had taken him away. “It’s nothing,” he said, but his gaze lingers on you, warm and tender. And then, without warning, he added, “You’re beautiful.”

The words hit you harder than expected. You hadn’t felt beautiful in a long time – not with the way things had been. The stress, the hiding, the weight of everything hanging over your head. But the way he looked at you just then, like you were the one who hung the moon and stars, you couldn’t help but believe he meant it. His eyes were so full of love, so full of something deep and true, warmth spread all over your skin.

You tried to play it off, hiding your smile behind your hand as you lean against the counter beside him. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled with a shy laugh, but you couldn’t deny the way your heart felt lighter, the way his words made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in so long.

The moment stretched in silence, comfortable and intimate, with the soft clatter of dishes and the gentle aroma of breakfast filling the space between you. You watched as Rintaro moved around the kitchen, steady and familiar, and for a fleeting second, everything feels perfect. Simple, but perfect.

When he finally plated the food, he hands you yours first, and wordlessly drops an extra helping from his own plate onto yours. It was a small gesture, but it made you smile wider. He always did things like that – quietly making sure you were taken care of, in all the little ways that spoke louder than words.

You didn’t argue. Instead, you sat down at the table, your heart full as you glanced at him. In the smallest acts, there was love. And as you sat there, the morning sunlight filtering through the window, the quiet hum of life surrounding you both, you realized just how much he meant to you. How much you loved him, too.

After breakfast, you took the plates to the sink, rolling up your sleeves as the warm water rushes over your hands. The clink of dishes and the soft hum of your thoughts filled the room while Rintaro puts on his jacket, getting ready to head out and gather firewood. He caught your eye before leaving, giving you that small, reassuring smile that always makes your heart twist. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to. The weight of everything hangs in the unspoken silence between you both.

Once the door closes behind him, the house felt quieter, emptier. You wiped down the table, the counters, and then swept the floor, keeping yourself busy. There was always something to clean or tidy up, something to organize in this new life you’ve carved out together. It wasn’t much, but it was enough – at least for now.

But as you moved around the small house, thoughts crept in. You sit down at the table again, pulling out what little remains of the money your parents had given you when they sent you both off. The stack was thin, much thinner than it used to be. You counted the bills, the coins, over and over, but no matter how you add it up, it was clear that it wasn’t going to last.

A sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your fingertips against your forehead, trying to push away the rising anxiety. You’d already been careful, budgeting, avoiding any unnecessary purchases, only getting the bare essentials, but the truth was unavoidable. It wasn’t enough. Soon, it will run out, and what then? You would be lying if you said you never considered this life was going to be permanent now. You would be lying again if you also said that the thought of having children didn’t cross your mind, and how could it not? It had been nearly two years since you’d lived here, and Rintaro had been nothing but perfect. You and him were finally living the peaceful married life you’d always dreamt of – where you woke up tangled in each other’s arms, listened to each other’s stories with rapt attention, and loved each other like today was going to be your last. Especially after that one night at the hidden lake, all the feelings you’d buried beneath a mountain of pain and hurt had resurfaced. You began to want him more, began to long for the next time he’d kiss you again, and even if he’d taken you night after night until you woke up late, sore and thoroughly loved, you couldn’t get enough of it. Couldn’t get enough of him.

The fake identities your parents had provided had been your lifeline, a way to survive without being recognized. But it wasn’t enough to keep you both hidden forever. Even with new names and fabricated pasts, the constant paranoia lingered. Getting a job would expose you, especially when neither of you knew the world outside the palace or the kingdom you’d left behind. You had no skills for this life, and the fear of being caught only made it harder to even try.

You glanced around the small space, the modest kitchen, the worn furniture, and the faint scent of breakfast still lingering in the air. It wasn’t the life you were born into, but it was the life you chose. And despite the uncertainty, despite the fear that gnawed at the back of your mind, you wouldn’t trade it. Not for anything.

Still, the weight of it all pressed down. You stood up and move to the window, watching the faint outline of the forest where Rintaro had disappeared. He’d be back soon, arms full of firewood, his face a little flushed from the cold. You could picture it clearly, his warm smile as he set the logs down by the hearth, the small moments of peace you found in each other’s company.

But for now, you were alone with your worries. You folded the bills neatly and tucked them away, pushing the anxiety to the back of your mind. It wouldn’t help to dwell on it – although maybe having a child was out of the question now. Not when you and Rintaro could barely get through.

Unable to help it, your mind drifted back to the beach house he’d bought for you.

And here’s the backyard – plenty of space for our future kids to play in. I’m thinking twins, one boy and one girl, and then we’ll stop trying for another. Two little devils should be enough. The boy needs to be the eldest though, so he can protect his little Princess. You smiled at the memory, reminiscing of a time when you had the world and everything else – before everything fell apart. Gaze trailing from where Rintaro had left, you sighed. You missed him already.

So you waited, listening to the ticking of the clock, the quiet creaks of the house, and the sound of the wind outside, hoping that somehow, everything will be okay. Because despite the uncertainty, despite the fear, you trusted him. And in this quiet moment, that trust is all you have. Everything would work out. It just had to.

When Rintaro finally returned, with an armful of firewood and his boots laden with dirt, you all but rushed out the door and rushed into him. It took him a few seconds before he realized what you were doing, and hastily dropped the wood beneath his feet. A small ‘oomph’ escaped his chest as you ran into his arms, your chest colliding with his. Arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist, you breathed in the scent of him – like sweat, soap, and a hint of pine. He smelled so Rintaro, and entirely all yours.

“Whoa,” he exclaimed, slightly swaying from how you nearly knocked him over.

Heat crept up the back of your neck as it dawned on you what you did, and you grimaced, burying your head deeper into his neck. “Sorry. I just missed you too much.”

“I wasn’t gone for that long.”

“It felt like a long time,” you murmured, pulling back to glance at what he’d gathered. “Did you get enough firewood?”

“I did, yeah,” he nodded, not once letting go of you. His hand ran up and down your spine in soothing motions, much like how he often did to lull you to sleep after a long night of making love. Your body reacted instantaneously at the gesture. Grinding down on him, you bit your lip, too shy to meet his gaze when your husband inhaled sharply. “I-I’ll get started on dinner.”

You tried not to let disappointment get to you when he put you down. “Wait,” you called out to him, and Rintaro stopped, briefly glancing at you over his shoulder. “Your hair’s getting long.”

“Oh,” he touched the tips of his hair, as if only realizing now he’d grown out bangs. “I guess it is.”

“Come here. I’ll give you a haircut.”

His hair had grown out a lot since you’d left everything behind, and while you loved the messy, rugged look on him, you’d been itching to tidy it up. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed a spare sheet, tied it around his neck, and led him to the chair.

He didn’t protest, just sat there quietly as you combed your fingers through his hair. The room fell into a thick silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable – it was heavy, like there was something unsaid between you. The scissors made soft snipping sounds as you worked, trimming away the overgrown locks, and you could feel his gaze on you, though he never said a word. Every so often, your fingers brushed the back of his neck, and you could feel the heat between you both rising.

You tried to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept wandering. There was something about this moment, the quiet intimacy of it. You weren’t just cutting his hair – it was like you were touching something deeper, something that had been building between you for a while now. And it scared you a little.

When you finished, you stepped back, admiring your work. His hair was shorter than you’d intended, but it suited him. He looked different, more mature. His sharp features were more pronounced now, no longer hidden behind the shaggy locks. It made him look… handsome. More than that, he looked like the man you knew he was, someone who had been through so much, and yet, still stood strong. Not quite such a Prince anymore, yet he couldn’t look more like himself. More like the Rintaro you’d fallen for even without the pretense of titles.

Before you realized it, you had moved closer again, your body almost instinctively finding its way to his lap. You settled there without thinking, knees on either side of him as you stared at his new haircut. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders, and the proximity made your heart race. You couldn’t help but admire him, running your fingers through the now-short strands. He looked up at you, and for a moment, the tension between you snapped tight. His eyes held yours, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. There was a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you, and for the first time, you truly saw him – no distractions, no walls, just Rintaro.

The way he looked at you made your breath hitch. It wasn’t just admiration – it was need, want, something that had been simmering between you both, unspoken but undeniable. And in that moment, sitting on his lap, your hands in his hair, it was clear you felt it too.

As you sat there, the air between you thick with tension, Rintaro’s hands slowly found their way to your waist, his touch hesitant at first, as if he wasn’t sure if he should. But once his fingers settled there, gripping gently, the hesitation melted away. Your pulse quickened, your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel the familiar warmth spreading through your body. The simplicity of his touch made it all the more intense.

Neither of you spoke, but words weren’t necessary. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of longing and vulnerability. You had been so close to him for so long – sharing the same space, the same struggles, the same quiet moments—but this was different. It felt like you were both finally acknowledging what had always been there, hidden beneath the surface.

Rintaro’s eyes searched yours, and for a second, he looked like he might say something, but instead, he just exhaled softly, his grip on your waist tightening ever so slightly. You weren’t sure if it was the way his breath hitched or the intensity of the moment, but you found yourself leaning down, your foreheads almost touching, the space between you growing impossibly small.

His gaze flickered down to your lips, and that was when you both hesitated again. You had kissed before, many times, but this felt different, weighted with the emotions you had tried to keep at bay. Neither of you could pretend anymore—there was no turning away from the truth. The love, the guilt, the fear, it all hovered between you, heavy and real.

And then, he leaned in, finally bridging the gap. The kiss wasn’t hurried or heated – it was slow, deliberate, like both of you were savoring this moment for what it was. His lips against yours felt comforting, familiar, and yet this time, it felt like more. The gentle press of his mouth, the way he cradled your face afterward, it all spoke of a kind of tenderness that had been growing between you for longer than either of you realized.

There were no fireworks, no sudden rush of heat. Instead, there was something even more powerful – an overwhelming sense of rightness. As his hands moved from your waist to pull you closer, you melted into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours as you clung to him. It was a moment suspended in time, and it felt like home. You breathed him in, your fingers threading through his freshly cut hair, and in that quiet, shared space, you both allowed yourselves to be vulnerable.

The kiss ended, but you didn’t move, your foreheads resting together as you caught your breath. It wasn’t explosive or wild; it was gentle and grounding. In his arms, you felt safe, like no matter what happened outside of this moment, you’d always have this – each other.

And for the first time in a long while, you both let yourselves believe that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

“I love you,” you blurted out, and Rintaro stiffened beneath your fingers.”

“…What?”

“I said, I love you,” you repeated, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your chest now that you’d said it. Deep down, you always had. The love that you had for him never disappeared – it was always there, lingering, sometimes more of a quiet voice that never spoke. But it was definitely roaring now in your chest, threatening to claw its way out of your chest as you held his gaze. “I know that… it hasn’t been easy, and I hadn’t said it in a long time, but I thought you should know. I love you, Rin. I never stopped loving you.”

Your husband shuddered beneath you, looking equally tortured and relieved. “But you can’t,” he whispered, his voice broken. “I haven’t been good to you. I never was from the start. I lied, and I cheated, and I hurt you again and again. I’m not someone who deserves your love.”

“I know,” you admitted, and something unreadable crossed in his face. “But I can’t help it, can I?” You were crying now, feeling the tears slip down your cheek before you could stop it.

“I don’t want you to regret it.”

You closed your eyes, grazing your lips to his. “That’s my decision to make.”

As you sat on his lap, your heart raced in your chest, the quiet tension between you shifting into something heavier, something desperate. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in just a little more firmly than before, and you felt the heat of his body beneath yours. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thickening with unspoken need.

You weren’t sure who moved first – maybe it was him, maybe it was you – but the next kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t slow or tender. It crashed over you like a wave, urgent and raw, as if neither of you could wait another second. His lips claimed yours with a fervor that startled you, and you responded in kind, matching his intensity as your hands moved to grip his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt.

The softness from before was gone, replaced with something almost wild. Your breath mingled in short, sharp gasps as his mouth moved against yours, hungry and demanding. It wasn’t angry, not really, but it felt like a release – of every emotion you’d been holding back, every moment of doubt, fear, and longing. His kiss was hard, almost bruising, but you welcomed it, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to drown in him.

Your hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling him in as if you were afraid he might slip away. His hands roamed your back, pulling you flush against him, his touch rougher than usual, like he couldn’t get close enough, like it wasn’t enough to just hold you.

The heat between you flared, your bodies pressed together as if you could fuse into one, and the kiss deepened, growing more intense with every second. It felt like you were pouring everything you had into it – every fear, every hope, every piece of yourself that you had tried to keep hidden. His lips moved with an urgency that made your head spin, and you met him with the same frantic energy, kissing him harder, deeper, until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. The world outside faded into nothing, your mind consumed by the feel of his mouth on yours, the way his hands gripped you like he couldn’t bear to let go.

How you stumbled back to the bedroom was beyond you. The next thing you knew, you were being dropped onto the softness of your bad, Rintaro’s larger frame hovering over you. Your clothes abandoned on a pile next to his. Every worshipping touch on your body wasn’t sweet or careful. It was overwhelming, chaotic, and messy, filled with all the things you’d both tried to hold back. But it was real, and in that moment, you both gave in to it, to each other, with everything you had.

When you’d both crashed with pleasure, your name spoken in garbled moans, it felt like you had just stepped off the edge and found that he was there to catch you. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

When you woke up that morning, it was with a sense of warmth and contentment you hadn’t felt in so long. The remnants of the night before lingered in your mind, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. You stretched beneath the covers, feeling the ache of last night in your bones but relishing the memory. You smiled, thinking of Rin, his touch, his kiss – how intimate you had been.

But the bed beside you was empty, and the sheets were cool. He was an early riser, so you didn’t think much of it at first. Maybe he was out on one of his usual morning walks through the woods to clear his head. You sighed, rolling over and pulling the blanket tighter around you for a few more minutes of quiet bliss before getting up.

When you finally rose from bed, the house was eerily still. You called out for him, expecting to hear his familiar voice call back, but there was only silence. It didn’t bother you at first – it wasn’t unusual that he had gone to gather some firewood; maybe he was preparing something outside. You went about your routine, washing up and getting dressed, still feeling a soft smile on your face.

But as the hours ticked by and there was no sign of Rin, a quiet sense of unease began to creep in. You stepped out into the cold, hoping to catch a glimpse of him by the tree line or near the shed. But there was nothing. Not a single footprint in the frost-covered ground, no telltale signs of him chopping wood or setting off on his usual walk.

Your pulse quickened. You hurried back inside, checking the small kitchen where he might have left a note, but there was nothing there either.

The unease sharpened into something colder and more piercing as you wandered into the bedroom and noticed it – his things were gone. His coat, once draped over the chair, and his boots, lined up neatly by the door, had vanished. The small bag he always kept packed with essentials was nowhere to be seen. The room, which had once been a haven of shared moments and passionate kisses, felt hollow, the absence of his presence rendering the space unbearably large and desolate.

A wave of disorientation washed over you, and you instinctively began opening drawers and rifling through closets, desperate to find some sign of his belongings. But each drawer you opened and every closet you searched yielded nothing but emptiness. His clothes, the few personal items that had once filled the room with his essence, were gone. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air, leaving no trace behind.

Panic surged through you, a rising tide of fear and confusion.

Your heart raced as you moved from room to room, your steps growing more frantic with each passing second. You searched under furniture, peered into corners, and even checked the storage spaces, hoping beyond hope that this was all just a terrible misunderstanding. But every corner you turned revealed only more absence, more vacancy, and the knot in your chest tightened painfully with each revelation of what was missing.

In the midst of your growing despair, your eyes caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper resting on the bedside table. Your hands trembled as you reached for it, unfolding it with a mixture of dread and anticipation. The note, penned in his familiar handwriting, offered no immediate comfort, but it was a tangible reminder that, even in his departure, he had left something behind – a final, aching fragment of his presence amid the overwhelming void.

He was gone.

You stood in the middle of the room, heart pounding in your chest as the realization fully sank in. The warmth you had woken up with was gone, replaced by a cold, hollow feeling you couldn’t shake. He’d left, and he hadn’t even said goodbye.

Exhaling through shaky breaths, you read the letter.

to my wife,

I want to begin by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the pain and confusion I put you through. I know that no words can truly convey how much I regret knowing that I’d broken your heart, and continuously trampled on the trust you’d given me time and time again. I will forever be haunted by the memory of the hurt I’ve inflicted upon you, and I will never forgive myself for the sorrow I’ve brought into your life. You never deserved any of that, just as I never deserved the love you so freely gave me.

The past two years living in the cabin with you have been the greatest of my life.

Those moments, those days when it felt as though we were truly a happy husband and wife, those days when it felt as if nothing in the world could touch us ever again, are memories I will cherish for the rest of my life. Sometimes, in those quiet evenings, I allowed myself to dream and dared to hope that this life could be real – that we could live without fear, without pain. It was a fleeting hope, nothing but a silly dream of mine. A beautiful illusion that, even now, makes me yearn for what might have been. What could have been.

But the truth is… I couldn’t bear to see us – to see you – living in this constant state of hiding and looking over our shoulders out of fear. I couldn’t continue to witness the toll that our isolation, our running away, has taken on you, knowing that it was all because of me. We fled the kingdom to escape the consequences of my poorly timed decisions, and now I am confronted with the unbearable reality that our love and our lives are marred by the very choices I made. I could only run so far from them. There is only so much distance I can put between me and the past, but the ghosts of my mistakes will always haunt me, and I can no longer stand and watch as you, too, suffer from it.

You have shown me a love and loyalty that I didn’t deserve, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Even when I faltered, when I was unworthy of your affection, you stood by me. When you learned of the lies I’ve told you, you still gave me the benefit of the doubt. Your unwavering loyalty and support has been both my solace and my shame. I cannot remain by your side any longer, not when I know that our suffering is a direct consequence of my failures. It was my fault that we had to leave our country, the place you called home and where your family was.

I know that time and time again, you’ve reassured me you don’t regret it. I know you wouldn’t have changed it for anything, that you have come to accept the reality of our life. I never doubted you, but I doubt myself. I always will. I could try my hardest to become someone good for you, someone worthy of you, and I fear that’s something I could never live up to you. Every time I look at you, I am reminded of who you are – someone who had always been too good for me. Someone who’d thrown away her life just so I wouldn’t be alone. Someone who’d betrayed her country and willingly followed me when I myself didn’t know where to go. You had always been perfect, always too loving, always putting others before yourself. You wouldn’t have chosen otherwise, which is why I decided to do make that choice for you instead.

I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye.

I had to leave while you were asleep, because I feared that if I stayed, I would change my mind and keep you in this play pretend of house. It wasn’t an easy decision, but I believe it was the only choice that will allow you to find peace and healing. I hope you will understand that I am doing this because I want the best for you, even if it means I must be gone from your life.

Please know that I love you enough that I’m willing to accept you’re going to keep hating me again from now on. My heart aches knowing that I’d left you alone in this strange place, but it was the only thing I could do. I know you miss your parents, and you miss how your life used to be. I couldn’t keep you apart from them any longer.

Don’t be scared of what may lie ahead. There isn’t much that I can do for you, but I’ve already arranged and secured your safe return to Inarizaki. Wakatoshi has reassured me of this, and sooner or later, you will be escorted to reunite with your parents. Tobio is waiting for you, too.

I hope that, in time, everything will make sense, and that you will find the happiness and freedom that you deserve. As you read this letter, I’m probably miles away already. Please do not come looking for me, because I may find it impossible to not keep you to myself a little longer.

Forever yours, in love and regret,

Rintaro

The letter trembled in your hands, each word becoming a blur as your tears began to fall.

The ink started to smudge and bleed, his neat handwriting dissolving into dark, spreading blotches. Your sobs wracked your body, each cry an echo of the betrayal and heartbreak that consumed you.

As the reality of his abandonment sank in, the air around you seemed to close in, heavy with the weight of his departure. You felt as though you were suffocating, the room closing in with the oppressive silence of his absence. The letter slipped from your hands, but you clutched it desperately as though it were a lifeline, the only connection left to the man who had left you behind.

In a frantic haze, you ignored his request to not come looking for him, a surge of determination driving you outside. Your feet were bare, and the cold ground met them with unforgiving harshness. The chill and roughness of the terrain did little to slow you down, and you pushed through, driven by a desperate need to find him. He couldn’t be that far, but then again, you couldn’t tell how long you’d been asleep for. Still, you ran, each step a mix of pain and desperation, the ground cutting into your feet until they were raw and bleeding. The physical pain was a distant second to unforgiving way your heart shattered into pieces, the vision of his face and the agony of his departure the only thing driving you forward.

Hours seemed to stretch endlessly as you searched, your hope dwindling with each passing minute.

Exhaustion began to overtake you, your legs heavy and your breaths labored. The landscape blurred around you, a twisted mirage of your torment. At the back of your head, you swore you could still see him – could still see his broad back watching the sunrise, could still feel his warm hands interlacing with yours through the morning fog. Even if he was no longer there.

Spent and broken, you collapsed onto the cold ground, clutching the letter tightly against your chest. Your bare feet, now wounded and battered, throbbed with pain, but the physical hurt was insignificant compared to the emptiness carved out in your heart.

Bone weary, you laid on the cold ground, tears mixing with the dirt, the letter your only solace. You held the wrinkled letter close to your chest, the only sound was the ragged whisper of your sobs, echoing into the forest where his presence used to be.

Hours passed you by.

You laid there, unmoving, the cold ground helping you numb your aching heart. Just as the forest seemed to blanket you within its freezing embrace, you heard the distant sound of footsteps. They grew closer, and you looked up, your heart pounding with a mix of dread and hope. You’d expected to see Rintaro, desperately hoping that he’d taken back his words and returned. That he never meant to leave, and he was here to stay. And then, as if conjured by your deepest longing and torment, he appeared – the very man who plagued your dreams, the one you had chosen to leave behind.

Kiyoomi.

The past two years had been kind to him, despite his grief. He stood a little taller, if not a little broader, too. But it was evident on his face, the misery that you were certain mirrored yours. His face that had been etched with a permanent frown darkened upon the sight of you – laid out in the floor caked in dirt, shivering in nothing but a nightgown and Rintaro’s letter clutched upon your chest. Wordlessly, he hurried to you. Crouching beside you, his movements were swift and sure, like having you in his arms was the most natural thing and he was simply reclaiming what was his. Gently, he lifted you into his arms, cradling you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. His coat, warm and familiar and still smelling like him, enveloped you, shielding you from the night’s gold.

And he still felt like home.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. Just like that, the dam had broken – your sorrow flooded through, your cries erupted at the back of your throat, raw and unrestrained. Kiyoomi pulled you closer, his embrace tender yet firm, as he was afraid holding you tighter would further break you apart.

He placed gentle kisses on your forehead, rocking you back and forth as an attempt to soothe you. As you clung to him, the warmth of his body and the softness of his touch eased your trembling. His arms held you tightly, enveloping you in his embrace like a protective shield.

He felt like a sanctuary in the storm – warm and reassuring. You yearned to nestle against his chest, to bury your face in the comforting curve of his embrace, and hold on tightly while you let the storm pass. Only it never would, even if the storm had already done its damage and travelled a hundred miles away. Kiyoomi could never undo the damage it had left in its wake.

“It’s okay,” he murmured against your hair, and for once, you doubted how true his words would be. “I’m going to take you home now.”

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