Another Place, Another Time

I. how you make me feel

"And the way you think/ And how you make me feel"

- Another Place, Bastille

-+-

Luce stormed out of his brother's office; his feet soundless against the woven rugs as he held back tears. How could he, how fucking could he?! His best friend was gone overnight, and he didn't even know why they had disappeared.

He threw open a random door hoping it was his and not caring if it wasn't. Navy fabric crumpled onto the floor as he tossed his cloak and fell onto the couch, intent on sulking for the next decade.

Instead of the comfy upholstery Luce was expecting, he landed hard on someone else's side, probably earning himself a bruise. A strong elbow dug into his ribs, and he'd bonked his head on someone's armor-clad chest. Ow.

"Oh- oh shit- sorry-!" Luce blurted instinctively. He lifted his head, shaking the stars out of his eyes and rubbed his probably already bruised forehead.

"Hah," a deep voice chuckled. "No worries. Seems like someone just happened to fall for me."

The voice belonged to an incredibly handsome figure whose long, white hair was braided delicately down his left shoulder. A pair of horns jutted out of his forehead, matching his smooth, pearly sea-gray skin. He was dressed in the full armor of the royal guard, but Luce could've sworn he'd never seen this guy in his life.

If the situation had been any different, Luce would be flirting right back at this mysterious stranger. Instead, he was pissed.

"No," Luce said. "Stop trying to be seductive, you shitfaced little fish. I'm pissed, and bruised, and on the verge of fucking tears."

"Aw, c'mon," the man said, his head tilted. "What's wrong?"

He was visibly confused but trying to play it off.

"I don't expect you to understand," Luce huffed, crossing his arms across his chest, blinking back the saltwater filling his eyes. He just wanted to fall asleep, to cry alone and sulk, why did this idiot have to be here??

"What if you kissed me? Would that help me understand?"

Luce screamed.

He rolled off the couch and kicked the nearest object - a formerly waist-high porcelain vase - as hard as possible. His leg cried out in protest and in stumbling backward, Luce embedded more shards into his foot. His best friend - sometimes more than that - was gone. Replaced with this asshole. How could this have happened?? He was a prince for fuck's sake!

The stranger coughed and Luce whipped his head around to see him sitting there with a mixture of shock, confusion, and concern on his face, mixed with something else.

Luce turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, not waiting to hear anything else from that stupid guard. His leg was throbbing in pain as he clenched his teeth and cursed. He found his way to his room, and curled up in his bed, smearing blood across the silky emerald sheets and burying his face in the pillows.

He didn't know how long he lay like that, tears staining the shimmering fabric. At the same time, blood oozed from his leg, his heartbeat a visceral feeling all the way up to his thigh, face hidden from the world in goose down. He was still lying there when the door creaked open, spilling soft, orange light into the room, the guard from earlier standing in the doorway of his bedchamber.

"Get out," Luce spat, twisting himself around to face the figure and pulling himself up against the bed frame. Black flared into his vision as he did so, the bloody sheet clinging to him. The man didn't leave, his tail flicking irritably as he walked to the side of the bed, a medic bag clutched under his arm, a pair of wings folded tightly against his back.