make me stay.

thirtyfive

♜

i frowned, my eyebrows pulling together as i continued pressing the frozen metal into my neck. i had sat on the floor of my room for the past few minutes, twisting and turning it on every coloured spot of my skin.

an older trick for lovemarks: running a whisk, preferably cold, over the bruised skin. this would results in an area covering all marks and more, becoming red and sore, but disappearing within a few minutes.

"that looks painful," belle pointed out, cringing at the site.

"just uncomfortable," i shrugged. it truly was not unbearable on any point, however, i would not mind being reminded of my mistakes during the time it took to work. just a few minutes really, five at the most, but minutes fell close to hours in feel, when it concerned this.

with every twist and turn i made with the whisk, my mind took me back to last night's events. how it had felt, how i wanted more, just like he had said he did, too. but my desires no longer fell underneath the same category as my needs.

i needed to ensure my future, and i had become unsure as to whether running away as fast as my legs would carry would provide that anymore. at least, not for one more night.

this specific evening hosted the time and place for the annual enlistment of the new troops. it would be my first, perhaps last, duty as a queen of the kingdom.

"will it not cause suspicion that you are in my chambers?" i asked.

"traditions follow that the bodyguards of royalty actually share the room, which would have been the case for us if mercer had not stepped in." belle replied, casually.

his words caught my attention instantly, as they tasted weird to me. "he did not allow it?"

"no." he said. "took the final ruling, even."

the final ruling was single handily a privilege of a king. if the ruler saw a rule or decision as being unfair, he could call the final ruling and therefore decide it all by himself.

however, if this was used one too many times, a king could be seen as weaker, as it was expected of him to be a tool used against many, not just his council.

"why would he use it on such a trivial matter?" i questioned, speaking mostly to myself.

"it's a classic, grey." belle smirked. "love makes a person selfish, foolish even. he wants all of you, completely and utterly to himself."

foolish. that word seemed to repeat itself at this point.

how could an entire mountain of citizens whom are designed to end their lives with one specific person not believe in love? love should be considered as the completion of an individual. finding that person that makes you twist and turn on the inside from the love you feel, instead of twisting and turning a whisk from embarrassment.

shouldn't it? or was i just completely and utterly wrong?

"it's gone," belle suddenly announced, easily shocked. he watched as i stretched my neck, making sure i had removed them all. i had.

i met his eyes in the mirror, watching him lean all of his weight onto the doorframe he stood up against, as i offered him a smile. it was only the slighest bit cocky.