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a/n: so i recently found this unfinished story in my drafts, that i had originally started writing for a contest, and i completed it and hence it ended up here. honestly i'm kinda proud (and little bit creeped out) of it. unedited af.
!!CHECK TWS ON THE PRELIMINARY CHAPTER!!
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SHAHRAZAD'S BANGLES GLINTED in the mellow twilight. She smiled sorrowfully, as her maiden braided her hair, a cruel frown resting on her beautiful face. Yasmine had never been angry at her, but the fury marred on her forehead made Shahrazad want to kiss her deeply and never let go. But time was ticking on them, her husband waited for her in his chambers, waiting to claim her and then slit her slender throat.
The sultan's eccentricity had earned their kingdom a twisted popularity in the past few months. Villagers and city dwellers alike dreaded as each night, the monster robed in silks took their girls and bled them dry, right in their bridal bed. Shahrazad tried not to think about herself, yet an unbidden picture came to her mind: her back against his bed, her silken skirt crumpled and discarded, his knife against her neck, deep scarlet blood.
A gasp left her lips. She felt soft hands cradle her face; Yasmine looked concerned, anger no longer lingering in her eyes.
"You're safe," she whispered, "you're safe with me. We can run away now. You don't have to do it." Shahrazad believed her, even for a moment, giving into her lovely fantasy. A free world where she and Yasmine could hold hands and kiss each other freely and openly with not a single fear. A world where there was no terror of a women-hating monster. A world where Noor was alive. But she knew the truth.
"We can't, and you know that." She felt a hollowness grow in her heart, an inky abyss of dread expand in her gut; their mission could go wrong in many ways. And she knew the sultan's mercy well.
Shaking her thoughts away, she grabbed Yasmine's hands, tracing the lines on her palm delicately. "If he-if I-"
"Shh, don't say anything." Yasmine whispered and pressed her lips to Shahrazad's painted ones. The bride sighed and pulled her lover closer, feeling every inch of hers as if it were the last time they could hold each other, kiss each other, love each other. And maybe it was.
