make it easy | young royals ✓

twenty eight

Simon

The dark sky is a never ending dome, cloudless, dotted with the tiny specs of stars. The rooftop of the Forest Ridge house is our personal clandestine space, its discreet location only knowledgeable within the two of us. Perhaps in other years, other lovers have claimed this space as their own inconspicuous and special meeting spot.

We're laying side by side on the tilted surface of the roof, gazing outwards at the universe. I turn my head to one side, taking in the sublime structure of his face; the beckoning lips that are just asked to be kissed and worshipped; the soft strands of hair in a beautiful yet inviting mess around his face.

"What?" Wilhelm's lips pull into a small smile when he notices me staring, and he seems shy to be under my relentless scrutiny.

I decide on honesty. "I was admiring you."

"What's there to admire?" His reply is jokingly executed. Our relationship dynamic is strange and esoteric, oddly drawn to teasing and bullying in ways of affection. Although we both know how we truly feel about each other, it's still strange when one of us decides on a serious compliment that's not stemmed from a joke or of loving humour.

"Everything." Drawing in a breath, I can feel the back of our hands touching, his skin like fire fueling embers on a cold winter night against my bare skin. He appears to be taken back by my words, but with one delicate action, sweeps his hand against my jaw and plants a soft kiss in between my starving lips.

"I'm guessing that's your way of saying thank you?" struggling to keep my heart from flaring up, I'm experiencing the same exhilarating thrill identical to the first time I've kissed him. His touch and his presence remain new despite its familiarity.

"What? You don't like it?" He grins, and at the sight of him tensing with laughter, I can't help but mirror it.

I run my hand through his hair gently. "You should do it more."

"Okay," Wilhelm promises, "I'll keep that in mind."

"You better," I mumble under my breath, but he hears me perfectly, and bumps his arm into me to signal his playful annoyance. A random thought enters my head, and I promptly ask without shame for ruining the romantic moment. "Did you ever have pets? I mean living in the palace, were you even allowed to?"

Our conversations are spontaneous and odd, and Wilhelm has adapted to my sudden and unpredictable spin of dialogue like it's always been this way. It's one thing I love about him, his ability to match my energy.

"Well, I had a horse," he admits slowly, and upon seeing my expression, hurries to defend himself. "Okay, I know I'm totally feeding into the spoilt prince stereotype right now-"

"You're not feeding into the stereotype, you are the stereotype."

"I also had a turtle," he immediately follows up with his sentence. "Though I was very young and I think I lost it."

I can't help but tease him. "You lost your pet turtle?"

"You know turtles can live a long time, right? So poor Mr Morris might still be crawling in my house somewhere, scavenging for food and fearful of its life."

I picture it at that instance, a young Wilhelm clutching a terrified creature in his hand and grinning with his teeth still growing, the image making me smile with an indescribable feeling.

"Remind me to keep all animals at a three-metre distance away from you."

"Too late, your fish are next."

Something unspoken drifts between us, and I feel my cheeks getting flushed and red from the memory of that night in my bedroom when I first introduced him to my lively aquarium. I bite the inside of my cheeks to stop myself from asking if he's also thinking of the same thing, and after glancing at his expression, I have a positive feeling he is.

"Anyway, who names their turtle Mr Morris?" I break the silence.

"What's wrong with Mr Morris?"

"There's nothing wrong with it."

"Don't hate on it, he's a comrade, a soldier, still fighting for his survival," Wilhelm fires back at me.

I snort. "One of you probably stepped on him and crushed him into oblivion."

"Simon!" Wilhelm sits up and stares down at me with disbelief, but his face is twisted into a strange smile to let me know that he's not actually angry at me.

Holding up my hands in defeat, I rasp out a quick "I'm sorry, I don't mean that!".

"You have classes tomorrow, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Why would you stay up knowing you have classes in the morning?" Wilhelm seems frustrated as if me knowing that I'll be tired in class tomorrow in sacrifice to spending time with him tonight is somehow his fault.  At Hillerska, each student in the second year has an extra day off to pursue personalised classes, tutoring and extracurriculars to avoid burning out before the vigorous schedule of senior years. Disappointingly, Wilhelm and my schedule fall on different days.

"What?" I don't understand his annoyance. "Who cares? It's worth it."

Wilhelm shakes his head. "I don't want you to stay up just for me."

"Are you saying that you don't want to hang out at night anymore?" I challenge.

"No!" He corrects me at once. "I just - I don't want to take sleep away from you. I care about you, Simon."

"Look, I get it." I clasp his hands in mine and hope that my grip is assuring and confident. "I don't regret this, okay? I've never regretted spending time with you."

His expression is conflicted. "Okay, but we're not staying up every night."

"True, we can sleep together instead," I retort casually.

"And I thought I was the one with attachment issues and separation anxiety..."

I think for a moment how he has truly no idea how much I'm in love with him, more so than he can ever love me. Wilhelm's the piece of the puzzle that I've been searching for, instead of completing me, makes me want to complete myself. I didn't think my heart is capable of so much love and heartache, how he can make me feel homesick for a place I've never been. He challenges me, never agreeable or docile but full of his own vibrant personality. I've never been more grateful to be shown his vulnerable self, it's a connection no one but us can explain.

We're lovers, and we're best friends.

"What are you thinking?" Wilhelm asks me. The moonlight washes over us like a gentle wave, the light reaching his features perfectly like he's art drawn by the finest hands, looking down at me. For a long and hopeful second, I dream of our future. Not Hillerska, but when we're both young adults navigating the world for the first time on our own.

"Things."

"Will you tell me?"

"One day," I promise him.

"Now I'm scared."

I quickly look at him. "It's not bad."

"Is it something I did?"

I almost laugh at how different his guesses are from what I'm actually thinking. "Of course not."

I think of a small apartment in Stockholm overlooking the waters, books in stacks and contemporary paintings on the walls. The plants by the balcony door in the morning sunlight, the space smelling of pancakes. Waking up beside him for a hundred mornings, for a thousand mornings. Summers spent on boats cruising down lakes, cliff-diving, sunbathing, large brunch with our friends dressed in white. Biking down country roads, the fields whipping past us in a blur and laughter filling the sweet July air.