shackled

chapter four - ethora's perspective

My bare feet brushed against the monotone cement floor - they've grown used to the harsh temperature that relentlessly prickles my soles. I can't get him off my mind. His mop of chestnut hair, his brown, brown eyes that hold the secrets of the soil, his biceps that urge to be let free of his royal attire. I rub my lips over each other, the vague scent of vanilla still lingering on the peeling of my mouth. Although I have applied lip balm, using it once can't undo the weeks without speaking or adequate hydration. He should be here soon. It's easy to navigate through time with my meals five times a day. Lunch wasn't long ago. I hope the scent of caesar salad has left my breath. The warmth of my tongue grazes my left wrist, and I raise it to my nose, scrunched.

"Eugh," My eyes wander to the 'vanity' across the cell from me. I have extremely limited items: a plastic toothbrush (with soft bristles), a travel sized tube of plain, unbranded toothpaste and another soft hair brush. I squeezed the tube gently (sparing the paste for the off chance that they will leave me here for more than 5 days) and I aggressively scrubbed my teeth for 30 seconds. I spit into the tapless sink and take a swig from my water bottle before rinsing it down. I press my lips together with familiarity and play a series of high-pitched notes with my mouth.

"Not very original, I see," A deep voice echoes from the hallway. I spin, startled. A smile spreads across my reddening face.
"Whatever do you mean? I hummed last time, this time I can whistle." He let out a low chuckle. It filled me with an uncomfortable warmth when I watched his shoulders heave when he laughed; they shrugged up and down with a familiar nature.  I glided over to him, moving closer to the cool steel bars. I noticed that despite the almost negative temperature I resided in, his radiant warmth made my entire body flush with heat. Tentatively, as though testing the waters, I put a slim hand up to the bars and gripped it. The whites of my knuckles were prominent against the colour of my skin as I held the cold bars with determination, almost worried they'd move. His body moved ever so slightly closer, his strong hand clasping around the pole as well. His trowel-like hand was holding onto the lower half of my prison, grasping desperately. His free hand reaches out, clenched around something cylinder - my eyes lit up. I reached out, still keeping my firm grip on the stabilising pole. The tube felt miraculous, dancing across my chapped lips, emanating a soft vanilla scent. I twisted the lid on and returned it to him, our hands brushing as they made their way through the dense air. There was tension, and it was obvious. It was WAY more than obvious. I heard a subtle click and he brought the cylinder to HIS lips. Was I seeing this right?
"You know you could've just kissed me to transfer it, we're sharing spit anyway," I shrugged nonchalantly and he did his memorable chuckle in return. I felt the heat rise in my face at the rather frisky comment. 'This must be what happens when you go without human contact for this long' I thought to myself. Then, my body took control. Well, my heart did - my brain stopped functioning completely. My clammy hands felt the soft material of his suit as I yanked with gentle determination. I felt his hot breath on my face, hitching at the inhale.
"You're beautiful," he breathed. I don't know how, but my face somehow got even redder, turning almost crimson.
"Not too bad yourself," I think I noticed his cheeks turn just about the same shade as mine. His face pressed up against the steel separating us and I could've sworn I heard a sizzle of heat abruptly meeting cold.

All of a sudden, a blossom erupted on my lips. We were a yearning mash of vanilla, softness and inexplicable heat, craving more because nothing was enough. My face was crushed against the bars uncomfortably, but I really couldn't care less; except for the fact they were restricting me from grasping his hair and body. The prince grunted softly into my mouth as I slipped my tongue inside, thanking the heavens above that I trusted my gut and brushed my teeth just earlier. He fought back and we wrestled longingly. After a few euphoric minutes (I really wasn't counting) I regretfully unlatched myself from him, staring into his deep muddy eyes and analysing the lights that danced behind his pupils. Our heavy breathing almost certainly alerted the nearby guard but neither of us seemed to care. We were paused in this blissful moment, unmoving, peaceful. I couldn't help it any longer and my face cracked into a vibrant grin. He mimicked me, his full lips pink and shiny.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Ethora," his fingers gracefully slipped from the grey boundaries and his feet shuffled backwards, agonisingly slow.
"See you soon, Prince Kaian,"
"Oh please... call me Kaian." His pace quickened and I also turned away, backing into my cell. I felt my sweaty hands rub down my face in embarrassment, but also pure ecstasy.

authors note - omg i'm gonna cry sorry this is so late i went back to school and it's shit
anygays here it is it's hella short but the best update will slay i promise
love y'all