I Dont Think I Could Stand To Be Where You Dont See Me [WMMAP, OC-Insert]

The name of a monarch

To a saddened wellness;

Anticipatory grief. A feeling of grief occurring before an impending loss. Grief or despair?

I'm sorry, Eros.

Nyx Noxlucis, your mother.
...........................

To the only son of Claude;

Claude was raised not much different from you; abandoned, neglected, well, you both were from me, at least. He is cold, mostly heartless. But don't misunderstand, Eros, he is not emotionless. When he loves, he loves so much that he's quite literally willing to do everything for them, for the things between them.

He would not hesitate to drink the deadliest poison, kill any threat, and even forget his memories for the people that were special enough to earn his attention.

What I know, and I am certain you know too, is that you are one of those people.

Nyx Noxlucis, the fiancée that was unlucky enough to birth his son.

...........................

A precious memory.

The golden-haired woman smiled warmly at the platinum blond child opposite of her. Noticing the signs of Eros wanting something, or being curious; small glances, a nail gently placed on his thumb, his head a slight angle lower.

"Is there something you want to ask, Prince Eros?"

With a released sigh, Eros blurted, "Can I see you dance?" His eyes rounded, as if he surprised himself. "I mean," he coughed. "Well, I heard you knew father from performing, and I'm simply curious. That's all, really. "

Diana laughed, amusement shone clearly in her ruby-like eyes. She stood up from her seat, stepped til she was beside her prince, and led him to the wider side of the room by the hand.

"Would you like to just see myself dance, or do you want to join me, Eros?"

He nodded, and Diana leaded to a waltz of sorts, but more flowy, more carefree, with Diana's cheerful laughter at Eros's more stiff form that was taught by his mother.

He heard Diana laugh once more, saying, "Are you sure you want to dance? Dancing isn't a hobby fit for princes after all."

"I don't care," he snapped, then said, "even if I want to wear a frilly dress, I will wear it like a pretty princess because I want to. So I want to dance."

Unsurprised by the prince's declaration, Diana smiled and continued to teach him how to dance perfectly.

□■□■□

Sitting in a giant lonely bed, the prince stared at the storybook on his lap. Nothing about the story should cause him to stare blankly; just some tale about a hero defeating a monster, saving a damsel, saving the world. The usual. What made him feel. What made him blank was the ending. No, it had a good ending. Everyone in the story thanked the hero, celebrated. But, the hero was held.

The hero was hugged and kissed in the temple by his mother.

Eros.... perhaps knew the reason why he couldn't stop studying the picture. It was warm. It had care. And it had something he always wanted.

But never got.

He looked up, his gaze at the shining moon. From his mother's tells, the moon is chariot driven by a goddess, one that is named Diana. His Diana, the one that he suspected was a literal goddess too, treated him like how fictional mothers would treat their child, kindly, warmly, given unconditional support. He liked that she acted as though she loves him.