High Enough - (dreamxreader)

Intimacy

A soft shadow cast over the words on the page, turning the once poetic sentences into subjects of the dark. You squint at the now unreadable story, trying to get one more hint that would let you sleep peacefully without thoughts, but are left sighing at the broken metaphors. The rest would have to wait till tomorrow unfortunately. Tomorrow.

You catch yourself glaring at the retreating sun as it dipped behind the mountains. The comforting warmth you once felt is fleeting, temporary. Now you stand in the middle of a flower field, wishing the day could last a little longer so you wouldn't have to wake up to tomorrow. You breathe in, letting your fingers brush against the words on the page, and you can almost feel the imprint from ink on paper. Eyes close.

She loves him.

A simple statement really, but is one that leaves your heart soaring. Finally. You had hoped the chapter would end that way.

The sudden crunch of leaves brings your attention away from the book and to the faceless man that stood behind you. When he got there, you're not completely sure. But his presence pulls you back down into reality; a reality you wished out of desperately.

"Ah, is it time to go already?" You ask, already knowing the answer but praying for another. He stands unmoving, heavy armor beginning to reflect the stars into your eyes. The moon, only just starting to rise, shines just enough light for you to see a gold insignia printed into his green cape. An insignia that owned the both of you. The cape flowed against the breeze, and you frown at it.

The guard, who you've known for years, rarely spoke. To you, at least. He seemed to have no problem talking to your father, but you try not to get offended. He motions you over to the stark white horse that stood by a nearby pond, and you sigh, walking to the animal. Your dress drags in the dirt, full of leaves and twigs.

The animal, with a coat as white as first snow, eased under your presence. He wasn't yours, you knew, but when you were younger you had taken it upon yourself to name it. Spirit, the ghost that seems to loom over you. The blonde spots in his hair looked gold in the dark.

He doesn't let you mount it on your own, instead grabbing you by your waist to hoist you up. His leather gloves are cold, even with the soft fabric of your garment between his fingers and your skin. Your hands rest on the pads of his shoulders as you stare into the lopsided grin carved into his mask. He must've been stepping on your dress, because the sound of tearing rings in the night as he started to lift you. He looks down towards the sound, and your left pressed between him and the horse. The breeze can now be felt on your leg, and you feel your skin flare up with goose bumps. He stares at the tear for some time.

"It's—it's fine." You place a hand on the cheek of the cold wood that covered his face to grab his attention, and you wonder how warm he is beneath it. He looks to you finally. "I'll just say it got caught on a tree branch."

A pause, as if he was thinking.

"You'll get scolded."

For the first time in a while, he actually gives you words. Soft and gruff, you almost forgot how he sounded. Alive. Young.

"I have plenty of dresses."

He gives you a curt nod before fixing his footing, placing you onto the saddle. Your dress had a long-shredded slit, you see now, and you catch him staring at it again. He touches the frayed edges.

"It's fine," you say again. Don't feel bad. "It wasn't very pretty anyways."

He shakes his head and grabs ahold of the leash that hung loose around Spirits nose. The horse begins to walk along the path leading to the kingdom.