Chapter song: Wicked Game by James Vincent McMorrow
He was on fire. His heart raged with lust, his head with pain. He broke his only rule. He fell in love.
The way she tugged his arm when she saw Galata Tower, the way her eyes glittered with tears when she saw the sea for the first time. Her hair whirling around her in the breeze, the outline of her figure even in the simplest clothing. Everything about her warmed him, burned him.
He told himself he was doing this for her. Making her dreams come true. She was living one of her beloved fairytales. And she wanted him to be her Prince. That was the only part he didn't understand. Why him?
The only way he could rationalize it was to compare it to his attraction to her. It was something he couldn't control, it just happened. Maybe it was the same for her? Maybe she had felt something at the very moment they met, just like he did.
He shook his head to clear it. He was going down a path that led nowhere.
She was picking out a green collarless shirt for him. It would be a nice dinner look.
"I know a place for dinner. Do you want to head back to the hotel and freshen up?"
He could hear his own nervousness and he hated it.
She smiled and nodded at him in the most beautiful way, then she gently put her soft hand in his. He took her hand just like he took her trust. He squeezed her hand tight to disguise his shakiness.
The sun set in an array of reds and pinks as they walked the cobbled streets back to the hotel. He could feel her eyes on him the whole way. It burned him. His facade was slipping, fear was leaking through.
This girl, this woman , loved him, wholeheartedly. She gave up everything she had to be with him, just like this, simply walking the streets of Istanbul hand in hand. Her kindness and naivete gave her an addictive allure. She was this perfect faultless creature. Something he could never aspire to, someone he would never be worthy of. It made him hate himself, but at the same time her beauty and her happiness were like a balm on his broken heart.
The horrible vindictive part of him wanted to blame her for making him fall in love, paint her as a succubus, make her feel she deserved what was to come. That was the easiest way. It would be harder to admit that he had second guessed everything. He'd lived with this purpose his whole life, he couldn't abandon it at the final hour because of a girl. Reyyan...
"Where are we going to dinner?" her curious voice broke him out of his mental prison.
"A place by the sea. You'll need a sweater." he hoped he sounded somewhat normal, whatever that meant.
He placed a hand at the small of her back as they crossed the threshold of the hotel. Was it out of instinct or deception? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.
The heat of her affected him greatly. It was like her skin, her touch, her nearness were blinding him, yet giving him clarity at the same time. His blood pressure spiked as he took the room key from reception and led her to the elevator. He could feel her pulse race through the veins of her hand. They were going to be alone in a hotel room. She would need to change. He didn't expect anything to happen, nor did he have any plans to act on his desires, but just the thought of having her alone was enough to bring him to the brink.
He hastily let go of her hand to open the door to their room. He had reserved a multi-room suite, to ensure her privacy and comfort, but now it felt acutely like a honeymoon suite. He heard her gasp at the huge windows that looked out to a gorgeous Bosphorus view. All he saw was the empty king sized bed.
"I'll just change quickly."
He hadn't noticed her find her bag or the red dress she had packed.
He stiffly nodded his head as she left for the bathroom and opened the shopping bag to retrieve the shirt she picked out for him. Green, the color of life, of envy, of his eyes. He unbuttoned the wrinkled shirt he was wearing, exposing his toned abdomen. Instead of feeling pride in his appearance, he felt disgust. He threw the old shirt hastily toward the corner of the room and pulled the new shirt over his head roughly. He turned toward the mirror to straighten his shirt and fix his hair. He was met with the image of a man he didn't recognize. He stared into his own eyes for a moment, searching.
But before he could find himself, he saw a flash of red and dark brown curls in the mirror behind him and he lost himself further.
Notes:
Thank you to those who never gave up on this fic. I almost did.
I love you.
