ongoing / enemies to lovers / to be 90-100k / part of a series / drama, royalty, action-adventure
updates: at the last week of every month! working on bi-weekly updates!
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A royal's secret charm school, hidden secrets, and an angsty enemies to...
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❝they say I'm dangerous, 'cause I broke all their cages, no, I won't sit and take it.❞
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❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
CHAPTER SEVEN: HEAVY CROWN
❃゜・。. ・°゜✼ ゜°・ . 。・゜❃
WC: 4.6K
warnings: a bit of sexual content and mild mentions of slight religious trauma/coaxing, you have been warned
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Harry
This day, this day is no longer real and bright. Under the guise of faux perfection and the dimmed lights of the ballroom floor. I see everything for what it was, a drunken midnight escapade. Though, the night has not reached morrow as of yet. The night has yet to slip through our fingers like sand, but it is, and quickly. Everything feels like a drunken dream, feeling as if we can soar, as if we can fly is quickly fading. Fading so much that all of the technicolor of life and love is fading to a melodramatic lows and monotone greys and blues once again.
Tis the life of a royal, underneath the guise of arrogance are we truly free. But maybe for some, but not myself, I will never be free. I am to wear the crown, and time is ticking. I will marry Dorothea on the eve of the first night of February. And no force will stop us, if anything can, that is, and that fact alone, that terrifies me. It shakes me to my core to be bonded in an eternal shackle, till death that we must share. Oh, gods, the perpetual frown that I will wear until I am grey and old, I can already picture. Though even so this is, and was always to be, and I have known this for most of my life. I simply thought I would have more time.
Times like this slip upon you like the common cold would in the busiest part of your year. Or, an old heartache springing back into your heart like a rusty nail pierces through a young child's skin. Not belonging there and completely unexpected. Even more somehow just a nuisance that you can't get rid of until it rots you from the inside out, and you're just a corpse of what you used to be, everything you used to want. What you used to need, what you used to crave. But have I always? I am not sure, its difficult to wade through the years of history of this godforsaken town, everything passes by too fast. Like a picture fading and turning grey the second it was snapped.
