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teddybeartoji · 10 months ago

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彡 OH, LITTLE PRINCE, LITTLE PRINCE...

☆. contains: prince!satoru gojo x gn!knight!reader; fluff (i'm lying i'm lying i'm lying), a reunion in the field? satoru just wants to turn back time wc: 1.6k

+ here's the previous part and here's the "i hunger to commit the act of touch" masterlist!

he's back here.

the field where he first met you.

he keeps coming back, again and again and again.

the prince pushes aside the few branches that hang in his way with a gentle hand and he's met with the most beautiful, the most peacuful sight in the world. it's hazy and it's warm, the sun bears down on the spot like guarding it is her life's purpose and gojo is grateful. the birds sit in the trees while singing their lovesongs and the grasshoppers hide in the grass, chirping as loudly as they can because... they can.

this is their home.

a kind breeze ruffles the prince's hair, it cradles his face and holds him close as he breathes in the fresh air. he loves being here. outside. he wants to feel everything, he wants to see everything. he will never get enough of the colors of the trees, the shades of the flowers, the melodies of the skies. he's sick of seeing brick walls and fancy clothes – he wants to roll around in the dirt! he wants to live.

the place looks like something out of a fairytale; gojo's eyes shine as he takes in his surroundings as if it's his first time there – the rain has washed away the blood and the ground has taken the bodies, leaving behind a clean slate.

an almost clean slate.

in the overgrown grass, he sees it—

the familiar glint of armor.

his heart races, his eyes grow big. he takes a cautious step into the field and away from the shady treeline, he's slow and steady; afraid to scare you away.

(to hurt you.)

the silver and the green look good together. tufts of grass sprout from between your body and arms, your legs, your fingers. no gauntlets... he's glad. the prince wants to see more of you but he's happy with even the slightest glimpses of skin – he wants to be closer to you. he wants to know you. he wants to help you shed the armor piece by piece, to lower the steel walls around yourself, but he knows not to rush it. your bare fingers are enough.

and your neck, your ears, your chin, your jaw. lips. cheeks and nose. forehead, your scar, your eyes. his breath hitches. it's really you. laying in the grass, basking in the sun.

(like you always do.)

he takes another step. you don't mind.

gojo can see you clearly now and he almost regrets his decision to move closer. there's a faint tug at the corner of your mouth, the slightest, and his stomach fills with butterflies.

"stalking now, are you?" a teasing lilt. more butterflies. they're so colorful, they're so pretty. "my highness."

a scarred eye cracks open and his knees almost buckle from beneath him. freckles adorn your skin and he feels lovesick. you're so warm, but the prince reckons the sun has got nothing on you. he's known the sun for his entire life and you only for a mere few months, hell, he's only seen you twice – but in his mind it's clear, it's so fucking obvious, that you shine way brighter than her.

(no matter how much you try to hide it.)

"i– " he stammers. he's been in this situation hundreds of times before but he still doesn't know what to say.

but despite his lack of words, his lips stretch into a charming smile as he stares down at you. "no."

he watches you push yourself up onto your elbows before raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun – you, you, you.

"i missed you."

the prince's body acts on its own; the words form somewhere deep inside his chest, behind his ribs, and they crawl up his throat like they're dying to reach you. they are.

"ridiculous as always, hm?" his heart is races. nothing, and nobody, excites him like you do and that's saying a lot.

"you love it."

you give him a deep hum. the smirk on your lips doesn't fade.

you let yourself fall back against the carpet of grass and splay out your arms as if you're making an snow angel. "right."

he keeps looking at you. admiring. you look like a painting; a watercolor one – no rough corners and no harsh edges, the soft hues hold you so gently. it just feels right. there's no need for a frame, you're perfect without it. the prince takes another step and he waits for your remark, but it never comes. you want him beside you. his own smile grows wider, his chest bigger.

but the second his knees finally hit the ground, when he's mere inches from you – cold droplets of water hit his skin and he struggles to tear his eyes from you to look up at the sky instead. the sun has disappeared in a matter of a second and she's been replaced by dark clouds. the prince's heart bleeds. again. a cold gust of wind ruffles his hair and he lowers his head to meet your gaze. the faint smile stays on your lips, though it doesn't seem real anymore. now it just seems fake.

you're not happy.

he sees it now - you're the last of the dried blood, the last rotting body laying in the field and now the rain has come to wash you away as well; to clean up the mess.

there's no stopping it.

his marble fingers reach out to grab your hand, your cheek, but you're sinking. fast. you fade as the watercolor painting takes you in; you disappear as the grass swallows you whole and his fingers dig into the dirt, desperately clawing at it to save you. panic runs in his veins and his hands tremble. he can hear his own heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

"no– please!" the little prince sobs. "don't go, please!"

the world doesn't listen. it's not up to him.

(nor is it up to you.)

it happens so fast. too fast. you're gone now, and the prince is left kneeling there with glassy eyes and a broken heart.

again.

he clutches at his chest – it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. he can't breathe, he can't think; his body feels numb and so does his mind. he wishes he could go with you, he wishes the nature would take him just as it took you. the tears won't stop, his eyes hurt. his head hurts. hurts, hurts, hurts.

thunder booms in the background and the birds are long gone. no more lovesongs.

gojo paws at his own neck when his throat starts closing up. now, he really can't breathe. his tears mix with the overbearing rain that's trying to drown him; lighting strikes somewhere behind him – it's getting closer and closer. there's dirt underneath his perfectly manicured nails, there's dirt on his pearly white shirt. his vision blurs and everything muddles together. he tries to take in another breath of air, but he just can't.

(it was his fault.)

the thunder clashes once more and—

he's not in the field anymore.

there's no sun, no rain, no dark clouds, no trees nor birds. shadows surround him, they circle him and wait for him to fall again, just so they can plague him some more.

drenched in sweat, panting and heaving, he sits on the massive king sized bed in his bedroom in the castle. it's still hard to breathe, it still hurts. he wipes away the tears brimming in his lashline before setting his eyes on the cracked open window and the forest that sleeps behind it.

it's cold.

puffs of air escape his lips as he breathes and though he's sweating, he's far from being warm. his hands shake when he pushes himself off the bed and his steps are weak when he makes his way over to the glass pane. he feels numb. he's sad. the prince watches the snow fall ever so peacefully, he watches it form a blanket on top the trees and the ground. stars shine in the dark night sky but when he raises his head, his attention is solely on the moon. she's beautiful. the prince hopes she's guiding you, holding you. keeping watch.

(he wonders whether you sometimes look at the moon with him in mind.)

the cold air nips at his skin and he shivers at the bite. he doesn't want to close the window – it feels like another betrayal. what if you want to come in?

he knows it's ridiculous. suguru keeps teasing him about it, his mother keeps lecturing him about it. they don't know what they're talking about – he wants to see you again.

not the dream version. he wants to see you. he wants to apologize. he wants to say that he's sorry. he wants you to smile. he wants you to be mad. he wants you to tease him. he wants you to bark and bite. hiss and scratch. he knows he deserves every mean glare and stare, every poisonous word. he'd bleed to make it all up to you. to take it all back.

obsession. devotion. love.

he's always been a sensitive boy.

he needs to make it up to you, and he will.

even if that's the last thing he ever does.

#ok i feel like the style of this one is a bit different... i just hope it's not BAD different lmao #short sentences and shorter paragraphs buuut what can i say. it just felt right.#angel boy #wtf mickey can write #ihtctaot

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teddybeartoji · 1 year ago

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˗ˏˋ AUTUMN - THE SMILE

a reuniun between a prince and a knight, filled with laughter, giggles and tears. you should've seen it coming.

☆. contains: prince!satoru gojo x gn!knight!reader; fluff, angst, just a tad bit of violence toward the reader but they can take it (right?), knight!suguru makes an appearance as always, talk of shoko and her childhood

☆. word count: 6k

☆. note: got very real in the end. it'll pass, though. surely. tagging my beloveds too bc i want to. @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat & @elusivemoon & @staryukis

+ here are the masterlist, the previous part & the soundtrack!

it's autumn.

the yellow and red leaves paint the town in their warm colors. the people are wearing matching scarves, some already mittens too. the wind can be unforgiving during this time of year - it hides itself behind the last few drops of sunlight and reemerges the second a cloud appears.

it is sunny today, though. a few clouds here and there but not doesn't scare anybody. the town is as bustling as ever. and the prince is out on his daily walk again. he loves being outside, the castle makes him feel so restricted, so caged in. outside - whether it's the shadowy woods or the lively town, he feels free, even if it's a mere moment. he loves taking in the sun - he isn't wearing his blindfold again, aware of the hard fact that he'll get a sickening headache after, but he just can't help it. he wants to see the world around him without the silly restriction his eyes beg for him to wear. he wants to see the leaves, the vines growing on the houses, the river flowing along with the fish in it, the townsfolk. he knows the people, he loves the people; the old lady selling flowers on the corner, the blacksmith with one eye, the doctor, who taught shoko everything she knows, the kids playing ball, the cats nudging themselves against his calves. he loves it. and the people love him, too.

sure, there are many, who'd like to see him dead but those are just power-hungry dogs and the prince knows that. he loves his people and they love him. whenever he comes out, he always plays with the kids. always. he plays ball with them, he plays house with them, he even planned a tea party for them once. he always visits the flower shop lady to look and smells the flowers, even when they're the exact same ones from the day before. he always buys some, insisting that he pays when the lady says otherwise. he buys loads and loads – some for his own room, some for his mom, some for the dining room and some for suguru and shoko. they always roll their eyes at that but the prince knows they appreciate the gesture; he's seen shoko admire them on the balcony of her room, observing every single petal in detail and he has seen suguru smelling them, when he thinks the prince isn't looking. suguru's nose is sensitive, so the prince takes his time picking out the ones with a smell that won't make his nose scrunch up.

suguru walks with him often, but not today. his knight duties called – the king's guard specifically requested him. 'how fancy' the prince said with a grin, earning a punch to his shoulder. he's proud of his friend, though, always. suguru makes an excellent knight and he couldn't be happier to have his best friend with him at all times (at most times).

he likes to visit the blacksmith, too. and every single time he begs, begs, to try out the job. he wants to get his hands dirty, he wants to try new things. he gets excited; it's freeing. a few times, when the prince is alone, the blacksmith allows the boy to help him.

the doctor is someone he also visits regularly. just to check up on her and to talk about shoko – he is insistent on knowing everything about her childhood but she herself won't tell him all that much. he always brings the doctor freshly brewed coffee from the tavern across the street. from her, he has learned that shoko had a rather tough childhood. well, he did know that much. he did learn that the doctor took in shoko when she was just eight; gave her a warm house and a bed and made her into an apprentice. shoko never budged an eye at the blood and the screams, which threw the doctor off a bit but she supposed it's from the life on the streets.

he has also learned that shoko had a friend, who was ready to do anything for her and for others for that's sake. with a deep sigh, she confessed that she regretted not taking in the other kid. shoko was more quiet, more well-behaved in a sense but the other kid – they kept getting into fights with the knights of the castle. "i kept scolding them over it. but no, they just kept going. later i learned that all of those beatings and slashings were for other kids." her head hanged low as she spoke. "they kept taking the blame for the younger kids, so that they wouldn't get hurt. stole food, so that they wouldn't starve. i didn't know that."

the prince nodded along, surprised to hear about this noble kid. his age, too. "where are they now?" he asked in a whisper, a little scared of the answer.

"they left. around the time they were twelve, i think. shoko was miserable. brought me and her flowers and bread; the most polite troubled kid i ever saw." she sighed."i was stupid."

the prince never mentions all that he knows to shoko; of course, he wants to know more but if she needs time to tell it to him herself – so be it. he offered her a room at the castle after he and suguru made her patch him up after a little accident. it's funny really, one of the prince's fondest memories.

though, the prince can't lie about being very fascinated the mysterious kid, who left town. why did they leave in the first place? why take the blame? who is this person? where are they now?

it's an old conversation that popped into his head as he's making his way to see the very same doctor today. why today? a cold breeze makes a shiver run down his spine and he looks up at the sun. it's so bright. fuck, he's definitely gonna get that headache. a group of kids run by him, laughter filling the street. he thinks about how there are no street kids now – he made sure of that. his father wasn't a fan of his idea of lowering the taxes and building a house for the alleged troubled kids. he hired some people that take care of them and that's another place he'll visit later today. he loves the kids so much and he just wants them to have a good life in his town. he won't be like his father — he will be better.

a warm smell of pastries suddenly floods his nose and he hums – it's thursday today. it's when they bake the biggest batch of goodies. his mouth is already salivating just thinking about it. he'll have to bring some to his friends too. as he's reaching his destination, a familiar glint of armor catches his eye. it's you. standing before the doctor's house, looking up at her with what can only be described as hope, as she's pointing toward the castle with a small smile. you give her a small nod and go for a hand shake for good measure but the doctor grabs your hand with both of hers and holds it to her heart. she tells you something that makes your lip quiver just a bit, just a litte. nodding again, you bow your head and bid your goodbye. the doctor is left standing at her door, watching you walk toward the flower shop.

the prince is stopped in his tracks, only managing to stare at you from a distance. he hasn't seen you since your little meet-cute. not for his lack of trying, though. oh no, he's been all over town, trying to find his little knight but to no avail — gone like the summery wind.

but now. here you are.

you make your way to the flower lady, greeting her with another bow of your head. so polite. the woman just beams at you and the prince feels his own lips twitch into a smile. you two engage in conversation that he cannot hear but once in his life, he doesn't want to interrupt. the flower lady says something that makes your head fall before she bursts into loud laughter, something teasing he thinks. it's like she knows you, why else would she be so comfortable with a new knight in town? he catches a faint, the faintest, little smirk playing on your lips and his knees are ready to give out.

after the short conversation with the woman, you make your way through the town with the prince tailing you. he watches you take in the people, the kids, the houses. the familiarity of it all. many of the older people seem to recognize you, bowing their heads as you pass by them.

reaching the stream that runs through the town, you lean against railing and tilt your head toward the sun. you bask in it. the light warms your skin, accentuating the scar across your eye. it looks cool. you have the same cuirass on from the months before, the little specks of rust still there. he looks at your hands, the bandages covering your fingers and the back of your hand. he's so curious about them. how'd you fight? how'd you protect? who'd you save? where have you been? it's eating him alive, he just wants to fucking ask you about the—

"you do that often, your highness?"

hm?

you address him without turning your head and it makes the prince jump a little. you knew he was here? he looks behind him just make sure you are, in fact, talking to h—

"yes, i'm talking to you."

"wha— how'd you know i was here?" his voice is a pitch higher than usual, genuinely surprised by having your attention on him.

"well, you're bound to spot the royal idiot standing with his mouth wide open in the middle of the street, your highness." you tease.

"i was not standing in the middle of the street! i am perfectly on the side, i don't know what you're talking about." he takes a step toward you, so– so eager to finally have you here with him.

"that's what you took from that sentence?" your fist raised in front of your lips, surpressing a grin.

the prince is more observant than you'd think. his fingers twitch by his side, eager to remove your hand and let your smile shine.

"i haven't seen you around."

"oh, were you looking for me, your highness?" it's supposed to be another tease but it doesn't fall through becaus—

"yes." the prince deadpans. humming, you try to brush off his straigh-forwardness.

"missed me, your highness?" you decide to give it another go.

"yes." and it doesn't work. you feel heat crawling up your neck, so you raise a hand to massage it. to hide it from the prince's keen eyes.

...

"you're ridiculous. don't you have other people to play around with?"

"oh, tons and tons. but they're not you." he leans toward you, tilting his head, boring his pretty blue eyes into yours – he really does look like a puppy like this. you've never seen one, you've only met teeth-baring wolves in the woods. you don't know what to do with him.

"has anyone mentioned, you have a terrible staring problem, your highness?" you retort.

"i just can't help it. and, anyway, i'm trying to figure out whether this is a dream or not."

"why would this be a dream, your highness?"

"i was momentarily convinced that our whole little date was a dream after i woke up, too, actually. but thank god, suguru was there to tell me that you did, in fact, save me. and, and you – yes, you – kindly refused the money and even told me to go and buy myself a new outfit." it's so off-putting how matter of fact it sounds. like he really thought it was a dream. you wonder, whether that's a good or a bad thing.

"well, did you?"

"i did. it matches your eyes. if i had known my little knight was in town, i wouldn've worn it." he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes before setting his gaze on the river below.

another breeze bristles through the two of you, rustling the prince's hair. the desire to fix it is weirdly strong, you push it aside. a cloud appears and moves in front of the beaming sun, casting a shadow upon you.

"i'm not your knight, your highness. nor am i little." straightening your back, you try to remind him of that. it's hard, he doesn't really take you seriously like that. it irks you.

"yeah– yeah." he brushes it off with ease. no harm done. the cloud moves a little and a few sun beams drop down onto the prince, leaving you behind into the shadows for a moment before lighting you up again.

"by the way, can you stop doing that?"

"doing what, your highness?" you inquire with a raised brow.

"that. exactly that."

"that what? use your words, your highness. you're a big boy, i know you can do it." it's funny to tease him. the honored prince.

he turns to you, his lips pursed. "your highness."

"your highness?" you push.

"you know exactly what i'm talking about and i need you to stop it."

"why would i, your highness?" of course, you know what he's talking about. he was crying about it the last time you saw each other. his name.

"because, because, because," he pushes himself off the railing, fully turning his body to you. "i want you to call me by my name."

"i won't, your highness." it's a statement. you won't budge. you won't.

"but why? i need you to say my name." his shoulders fall as he looks at you. like a puppy.

"why are you so hell-bent on that? i cannot do that, your highness. it's wrong."

"it's less wrong than calling me an 'idiot' every two seconds?" that — is a good point. you won't tell him that.

"what do you think will happen if you say it, hm? there's nobody here; nobody to shame you for it and even if somebody tried – i'd protect you." the last part tugs the corners of his mouth up, nailing them there, showing off his pearly whites.

"what do you think will happen if i say it, hm?" you shoot back.

his parted lips close. "other than world peace and an end to the famine? i just get to hear it, simple as that."

he's doing it again. kind of trying to claw inside your ribcage. thankfully you're wearing armor; you won't let it happen. you can't. it's crazy, how much his sincerity irks you. and his jokes. and his smile. and his eyes. and the way he won't leave you alone. and the way he keeps bugging you about the name. you won't, though. you will not.

"i can drop the 'your highness', if that'll make you leave me alone."

"yes!" he does a little celebratory movement with his fist and the urge to punch him is back. "that's a start. we're getting somewhere now." flashing you a smirk, he leans back onto the railing.

"we're not getting anywhere, stupid."

the prince smiles to himself as you two have another moment of silence. you're both looking at the same two fish in the river, swimming in circles with each other.

while you're distracted with the river, the prince decides to take another good look at you up close. his eyes scan you from head to toe. another glance at the scar – it's deep and it's old. your eyes look a bit tired, but the prince convinces himself that the little glint in them is because of him. there's an almost healed cut in your bottom lip. there's another scar on your neck. he looks over your cuirass, wondering how heavy it is. your sword hanging from its scabbard. how heavy would that be.

"what happened?" he asks, pointing to your bandaged fingers that you keep fiddling with.

"fought a bear."

...

"what?! you can't just casually say you fought a fucking bear and then just stoically look in the distance?" he's ready to bounce off the walls, three words filling his adrenaline gauge immediately.

"nothing special about it."

it's taking you everything to hold back your laughter.

"wha— what the fuck do you mean 'it's nothing special'? you fought a bear?!"

he's unbelievably naive, actually, because does he seriously think you fought a bear and got away with some scratches on your fingers and nothing else? he's deluded. just for you.

"how big was it? was it mad? did you kill its babies? oh, i hope you didn't kill its babies, that's so bad. wait, did you kill it? why'd you fight it in the first place? c'mon, please tell me. please."

it all comes out in one breath and he looks like he's about to pass out.

"well, i was sent for it actually."

"you were sent for it?"

you hum in agreement.

"a few days after being in town, the flowershop lady sought me out with a problem of hers. the knights of the castle didn't take her seriously, that's why she had to turn to me."

the prince nods, already hooked to your story. he knows the older knights, his father's knights, can be assholes.

"she told me – a bear, like a really, really big one at that, had visited the town on a quiet night. and that it'd stolen some of the flowers from her stand."

he nods again, albeit faintly this time.

"so i went to find it. for her. took me days, the journey was rough." you sigh deeply before glancing at him, almost stopping your false little story because of his confused expression. he's cute. no, he isn't. "t'was an easy fight, though. you know how good i am with the sword. i returned with its head just yesterday. that's why you haven't seen me around."

he looks at you blankly, like a kid, who's parents are trying to convince him that santa claus is indeed real.

"i'm just fucking with you, my liege. i didn't fight a fucking bear, s—" you bite your lip to stop the word from falling from your lip and for your sake, the prince doesn't seem to notice.

"that's so not funny, you know. i really thought you went and fought a bear." he dangles from the railing, sporting a jutted out bottom lip and big doe eyes. poor boy.

you just can't stop the small smile that spreads across your face.

"you thought i fought a bear and got away with a few bandages! it's your own fault, really. you're too naive."

his own lips begin to mirror yours. "so mean. i'm just being positive, okay."

"yeah, okay."

it's a second. where it's all quiet – just you and him, looking at each other and smiling. it's weird. and so good at the same time. you don't know what to do with yourself. he bumps his shoulder into yours before leaning back down. he stays close, an inch between you and you fight the urge to pull away. you're scared. not used to this. it was just a fleeting touch and he doesn't seem that affected. (he is). your eyes flick from the river to the fish to the flowers by the water and to the sky above you. you don't know what to do with yourself.

suddenly high-pitched giggles erupt from somewhere behind you, catching your attention. three little girls in their little pastel dresses, they all have flowers behind their ears. the prince turns around and takes the world's biggest bow possible, making the girls titter once more.

"well, hello to my very favourite girls." he's wearing that sickeningly sweet smile again. he kneels down and beckons them closer. all of their eyes flick over to you and the need to step away is killing you. but as if noticing your uneasiness, the prince tugs on your hand, pulling you down with him. he sends you a reassuring smile and motions for the girls again. this time, they don't hesitate.

one of the girls reminds you of shoko. it's a bit uncanny, really. brown hair and big brown eyes. and she even stares at you the same way, just like she did when you were small; with a sense of curiosity instead of the usual distain you were used to. you try to give her a cautious smile, so afraid she'll be frightened by your sharp teeth, by the scars.

she beams.

the little girl flashes you a grin as if she's ready to compete against the sun or the young prince beside you. her little eyes shine, her little hand reaches out. "can i touch it?"

"touch it?"

"th-the scar." she nods. she's excited?

"oh."

the prince is quietly observing you from the corner of his eye while braiding one of the other girls' hair. the girls taught him that. he's very good at it, too. the third little lady is talking his ear off about the next tea-party they're having. he loves them.

"uhm, you can. yeah." clearing your throat, you lean a little closer to her. the small hand stretches out, her fingers ghost over the long bump across your eye.

"does it hurt?"

you shake your head. not anymore.

"cool." she takes a step back, still looking at you.

the prince swears there are stars in your eyes, and he's determined to make them stay there.

"do you want a flower, too?" one of the other girls asks. she has on a purple dress and she has the biggest bundle of flowers in her hands. there are reds, there are blues, yellows and pinks. it's such a colorful bouquet, you wonder where she found them all.

"i– sure."

"i think..." the prince's hand reaches for the flower, his fingertips ghosting over yours. "this..." he raises it next to your ear. "should go here. what'd you think girls?" they excitedly nod their heads. "yes! yes!"

and to top it off, he whispers a 'be good' to you.

a grumble, is what escapes your tight throat but the quiet giggles that emit from the girls help it relax. the prince's nimble hand pushes a hair behind your ear and places the flower aside it.

"would you look at that, hm?" there's a teasing lilt in there somewhere, you're sure of it. you just can't hear it right now. surely. his eyes are glued to you, making your lips purse. the heat is back, back on its way up your spine and to your neck. this is so silly.

'so pretty' is what one of the girls whispers, followed by a small 'yeah'.

your eyes flick over to them, still waiting for them to just run off but they're there. admiring the knight with the flower behind their ear alongside their prince. the heat is now clawing its way up your neck and onto your face; the warm tint on your cheeks makes the prince coo. that's enough.

standing up, you glare at the prince, who simply cannot put away his smile. switching to the girls, you merely lean over them. "run along now." it was supposed to sound harsh, demanding, but once again you're greeted with their warm smiles and giggles. they wave to their prince and they wave to you before running off.

a tug on your bandaged hand makes you jump. "are you coming to the party?" it's the mini-shoko. tugging on your arm like when you were young.

your eyebrows raise – you don't know the answer to her simple question. it should be a no, but how can you say that to her? you just want her to smile, to keep smiling.

an arms slings over your shoulder, making you glance at the hand and then at the face. he's so close like this.

"they're coming!"

"really?" her eyes have doubled in size, genuinely excited and ready for another knight to attend the party.

"i promise!" he sticks out his pinky and waits for her to do the same. they link them together with mirrored smiles before she, too, runs off. the prince turns his head and your noses almost brush together, making your eyes widen.

"it looks good."

"fuck off." shoving him off of your shoulder, you give him a firm punch against his chest, loud laughter rumbling through it. god, he's annoying.

settling back to your spot resting against the railing and closing your eyes, you take another moment to enjoy the sun. you can feel his eyes on you; it's impossible not to.

"stop staring."

"i can't."

you slightly open one of your eyes and peer at him. his leaning on the thing, cheek mushed against the palm of his hand, eyes set on you. he looks beautiful.

"why don't you wear the blindfold?"

"i don't like it."

"how come?"

"i wanna see the world."

"and you don't with it?"

"yes and no." he rubs his eyes before closing them and mirroring your pose – head turned up to the blue sky. "yes, i technically see everything and no, in a sense that i want to look at people and i want them to look at me. i want to connect with them. with the world. with you." he tilts his head toward you, peeking at you. you shy away from his gaze, scoffing under your nose.

"i heard it gives you headaches?"

"it's worth it."

he means it. you hum.

"it's gonna rain soon." you say it more to yourself than to him.

"no, it won't." he opens his eyes and stares at the clouds slowly drifting in wind above him.

"yes, it will."

"what, you a psychic all of a sudden?"

pointing behind him, you gesture to the way darker clouds now moving in the town's way.

"oh..."

idiot.

"you sure you can be outside when it happens?"

"hm?"

"i heard that little boys like you get washed away in the rain. 'm jus' looking out for you." your eyes are glued to the other side of the river in a stoic manner, whilst the prince gapes at you like the fish in the water.

"i— am not a little boy."

oh, and his voice cracks.

...

his cheeks flush but it's worth it because the next thing he hears is like the sweetest melody in the world – you laugh. you actually laugh.

"right... not a little boy but a pretty little princess instead." and you can't help it, another chuckle bubbling up your throat.

he's in awe. the sun peeks from the grey clouds and soaks you in it's golden light. his knight.

"i—..." and he can't contain his own laughter. "okay, first of all – i'd make a gorgeous princess, for all you know!"

"oh, i don't doubt that." you scoff.

the prince takes a step from the railing and spins himself around, hands outstretched holding his imagenary gown, he bends his knees and bows his head like a true princess.

"the girls have taught you well, i see." your hand rises again to hide your foreign expression; rough, scarred fingers covering the softest grin. "you really are ridiculous..."

"just for you." his voice is always so confident, like he really means it. for you. but he isn't. he isn't for you – you seem to be forgetting that. mistakes like that tend to get punished.

he does another twirl but his feet can't keep up with him and he stumbles backward, a moment away from falling when cold fingers wrap around his wrist, steadying him.

"i don't understand how you're so good with a sword when you can't even stand up without the danger of cracking your skull open."

"you think i'm good with the sword?" he beams.

"that's not— that's... i mean, you're good for a person, who has been training for the most of his life, yeah."

it's the best compliment; you trying to conceal it under some fake little comment won't stop him from him writing it down in his little journal later.

his wrist is still caught in your palm and he doesn't plan on letting you go – swiveling his hand to properly grasp onto yours. it doesn't burn. with a smile he pulls you down the small hill, down toward the river.

"hey!"

your little complaint falls onto his deaf ears; he's determined to keep you with him. forever and ever.

the dark figure staring at you from the distance is hidden by the sound of the prince's addicting laughter. you've let yourself go for a minute and you're about to be punished for it. are you ready?

he drags you right to the calm stream, never letting go of your hand. it feels right. your hand in his. he bends down, you with him, to see what he's up to - only to be splashed right in the face.

"wha— you little fuck."

giggles emit from his throat as he takes a step back, watching you dip your hands into the water. "come here, boy."

it's so easy to forget with him. to forget everything. that you're not supposed to be acting like this. playing like children. especially with the prince. you're not supposed to be laughing. having fun. you're not supposed to.

you splash him back, child-like laughter falling from your lips with ease. it's your fault.

this little chase goes on for a couple of minutes before the prince takes another stumble, bringing you down onto the grassy bed with a thud!

this time – your noses really do bump together, an immediate flush spreading across your face. your armor is heavy on his chest but he doesn't mind. doesn't mind when it comes to you. when you try to get up, his fingers latch onto the metal, gently pressing down on your waist.

his blue eyes gaze up at you but you don't really know what is it that swims in them. you're not acquainted with stuff like this. you don't know what the fuck this man is thinking about right now, but you do know that this is inappropriate. you shouldn't be doing this.

"this is stupid." you try to push yourself up again.

"stay."

you glare at him, gauging the meaning behind his word. is he joking?

"stay." he whispers.

your eyes flick down to his lips. his flick down to yours.

his heart jumps in his chest when you don't push away a third time. he does sense a small scolding ahead though. and he's right because your lips part, curving just the right way—

he knows what you're about to say. what you're gonna start your sentence with. it's coming. he can almost hear it. the smooth 's' on the tip of your tongue—

"boy!"

...

your eyes widen and your lips sow themselves shut in the blink of an eye, forcing the prince watch you swallow his name; push it deep down – as far as it could possibly go. never to be seen again. the weight of your armor lifts from his chest, but another kind remains heavy on his heart.

"boy!" the same voice calls. the prince doesn't need to look to know, who it is. a big figure looms over the two of you, ontop the very hill you spent the last thirty minutes on. even though the man's voice is directed at the prince, his eyes are set on you. scrambling to your feet, your head falls into a shameful bow before the king's guard.

how dare you?

it takes no time to close the distance between him and you. the sheer size of the man hides the prince behind him. from you.

the prince's mouth opens – ready to defend his knigh—

a slap!

the man's back of the hand meets your cheek, jolting you, awakening some well-hidden memories deep in your body. your eyes shoot up to face your foe. you know this man. his eyes are cold; cold as the sudden autumn wind, a wind you know will give you a fever and nail you to your bed. your cheek throbs – a dark pink pool of shame; pure shame and digust of oneself.

"a thieving child dressed as a warrior? hah, this isn't the time to play house."

how dare you?

a sharp intake of breath and the prince is hurling towards you but a strong hand keeps him in place.

"don't." suguru. his arm drapes over the prince's chest, holding him back.

slap!

on the same side. the pink tint rapidly turning into a deep red one.

how dare you?

the prince thrashes in suguru's grasp. a raindrop falls onto his forehead, dripping down by his eyebrow, hiding his already watery eyes – 'a sensitive boy' his mother always said.

the heavy brash rain washes away the light that had been shining in your eyes, turning them back into a pair off dull ones; the beating heart behind your ribs rattling in its cage. stupid.

"never did have any respect for your superiors, did ya? you oughta kneel before your prince. and beg for his forgivess."

"no!" the prince barks.

a tch!

his heavy fist lands against your worn back, stumbling you forward. he doesn't need to tell you twice. you don't wanna hear it twice. with a throbbing red cheek you step before the prince and slowly fall down to your knee, into the mud. where you belong. you reach for the prince's hand, raising it to your face.

"forgive me, my prince."

after what seemed like entirnity, your eyes meet. it's not you. it can't be. chapped lips graze the back of his hand, trembling in your hold while you keep your cold gaze on him. the flower behind your ear has wilted, laying limp, just about ready to fall and sink deep into the ground.

the knife in his chest turns and he can't breathe. another tear brimms in his eye, spilling over the plump of his cheek and blending together with the rain soaking his shirt. it hurts.

"why don't you accompany the prince inside, his father is expecting him." the man orders the dark haired knight.

suguru doesn't look any better than the two of you; his lips indefinitely turned downward, guilt seeping from the hands holding his best friend. he knows he can't do anything for you and he's sure you know it too, it doesn't take away the god awful feeling, though. he feels the prince turning more into a puddle by the second, his grasp on him faltering.

he tugs him a step back, the prince's hand slipping from yours.

"please."

it's only for your ears, yet you don't know what he's asking for. you stand with a head held up high, the cold raindrops easing the burning in your cheek (but not in your chest). you watch them saunter away, watch the prince glance behind him exactly three times. three times too much because he just doesn't get it. he doesn't understand that this is it.

this won't happen again; it cannot happen again. he's just a boy — a boy, who wants to play house, knowing there won't be a punishment for his fun. a mere slap against his fingers that he'll respond to with a frown but nothing more. but a knight? playing house? it's absurd, laughable even. it is disgraceful.

who do you think you are?

who are you to touch the prince with your dirty hand? who are you to stain him with your tainted touch? how dare you muddy their little doll? their precious prince? you're some foul creature seen on the street; an agressive dog, ready to chew up the prince. he's not for you to touch, to have — he's theirs. he is everything and you are nothing.

and in the end — you're not even a real knight.

#:D #knight!reader nation how are we feeling?#i am in fact very unwell #this got long suddenly #idk how'd that happen #idk if this one is good #it's something alright #it feels rushed even though it has taken me literal weeks to write it lol #we rocking with this for now #i'll read it over tomorrow #enjoy #bone apple teeth my lovelies #ihtctaot

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