you've fallen in love with your enemy & other short stories

you've fallen in with love with the prince you're supposed to assassinate

You stare at his beautiful dark blue eyes. They dance with laughter and love as he watches you walk down the elegant, silver staircase. His unruly hair is still unkept as you fight the urge to try to put it back. 

"May I have this dance." He smiles at you, that darn smile. You hate him for it. 

"Of course, your Majesty." You say as he takes your hand. "Who else would I dance with?" 

He just laughs and takes you for the waltz. And you realize then as he spins you sound and looks at you with that love, that pure joy- that you love him. And you can't. You just can't. 

"Prince-"

You start to say but all he says is, "Shh my love. Last dance." 

You lean your head on his shoulder as tears fall from your eyes. You feel the cold press of the dagger on your thigh and look at the clock. At midnight the lights go off. That's the planned time. This is the day he dies. 

"I love you." He says, as he spins you around one last time. It's 11:59pm. You look at his face. Your Prince. Your love. 

Those innocent blue eyes, that stupid hair, his beautiful smile. 

In another world, another time. 

"And I you." You say. 

The lights switch off. And he hugs you. So tight you feel like you can't breathe. And you realize you can't. You're not going to do it. He's yours and nothing will change that. Damn the rebellion. Damn the freedom fighters. You'll find a way to end the unrest together. 

"Prince," You say looking up at smiling. "I-" 

Suddenly you feel a cold dagger pierce you through your back. As he holds you. With such love, such care. 

You can hear him cry as he gently lowers you to the ground. Deep guttural but muffled cries. He pulls you to his arms and kisses your tears away. He finds your hair in the dark and gently brushes it back. 

"It was me or you." He whispers, still holding you close. "Me or you." 

You don't have the heart to tell him you weren't going to kill him. You don't have the heart to tell him you were dreaming of a future with him. Your Prince. 

Instead you touch his face with your bloodied fingers. You brush back that unruly hair like you've always done every time you see him. You feel that beautiful mouth and can imagine those bright blue eyes watching you in the dark. 

"Me and you." You manage to croak out. 

His body shakes as he pulls you closer. "Always." He says. 

And then the lights switch back on. The guests start to scream and the Prince squeezes your hand one last time, letting go. 

He stands up, announcing, "The traitor is dead." Before leaving you. Forever. Bleeding out on those those cold palace floors. 

Dreaming of an impossible future.

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extra: 

> This has always been one of my favourites that I've written, I'm tempted to write a whole story haha. 

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