𝒜 𝒟𝒶𝒾𝓈𝓎 𝐹𝑜𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝓈 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

Lukas: 9

After what's seemed like ages, I look up from the news articles I found on the web about me and Valentina's 'romance', to see if they're done playing dress up in there.

I raise from my spot on the cushioned bench, about to knock on the door, when it opens and Valentina is shoved forward into my chest by my sisters, and they bound off down the hall to leave me with my soon to be fiancée.

Valentina stumbles from the sudden push my sisters graced her with, and I grab her waist to steady her uneasy feet.

"Woah." She looks up. "Thanks."

I'm hit with a sudden wave of ineffable captivation. She could stare at me forever and I wouldn't bat an eye just to keep the risk of breaking any connection between us at bay. The dress she's in hugs her skin just right, and exposes the beautiful flesh that I want to hide from the light of day. Hide it so I can keep her all to my self, keep her selfishly away from the rest of the world where nothing can reach her, hurt her. Shield her from a world I know she's bloody well used to.

She's like a siren. Alluring, fascinating, but also quite dangerous beneath the bewitching exterior. The dress is deep blue, reaching down to her knees, with white lace and a pair of black kitten heels that can't help her get any taller than to my collarbone. A black gold tiara sits upon her loose black waves, and her face without cosmetics is even prettier than with.

Not picking up on the logolepsy she pulls out of me, Valentina laughs a little up at me.

"You've been waiting out here a while, and your hair is all messed up. Here, let me..." She lifts on her toes and runs her hands through my hair to push it back out of my face.

Her hands glide through my blond locks, and she toys with the hair on nape of my neck. Cafuné (Brazilian verb: the act of fondling someone's hair). Her eyes find their way back down to mine, and it's like time slowed for us as our eyes that are staring unembarrassedly at each other fixate. Her face is six inches from mine, and I pull her closer by her waist that I've been gripping to like a lifeline.

I have an overwhelming feeling of cingulomania (Latin-Greek noun: an overwhelming desire to hold someone in your arms), causing me not to think when I lift my one hand up from her waist and up to her face, trailing along her jawline to make her shiver. You would think it would be awkward, this close together, but it feels like something I've known for my whole life.

"Illecebrous." I whisper, unable to contain all the words flowing through my mind uncontrollably.

"What does that mean?" Valentina whispers hoarsely as I tuck a strand of hair around her ear.

"A Latin-English adjective. Alluring. Attractive. Enticing." I say, breathlessly as I let my arm still on her waist curl around her back and draw her closer to my body. "It's making me insane. Akrasia. A lack of self control against one's better judgement."

"How do you know that?" Valentina's lips part, so close to mine I can almost feel them. "Tell me another."

"Basorexia. A strong craving, hunger for kissing." We're so close that her lips brush across mine.

Teasing me, Valentina won't be the one to give into this hunger. She knows that it's breaking me apart. And when she won't surrender, I feel as though the walls I've built to keep love out of my life are slowly crumbling. I can feel them plunging, the ruptured barriers I've worked so hard to keep standing. And when I can't keep them standing from the heat of Valentina's skin, I give into the thirst and crash my lips into hers.

Frantic moving, hungry hearts, it all combines into one as her tongue teases mine.

I pull her with me slowly as I back us up to sit on the bench I had just been reading an article about our 'romance' on. It might be real. Scratch might, she's sitting next to me on this bench kissing me. It is real. But I don't want to see it.

"Luke-" She shudders when I interrupt her with another kiss. She's interrupted when a voice calls from down the hall.

"Anything for your kingdom, eh, kids?"

Both Valentina and I both jump up and away from each other, and I recognize Duchess Antoinette. Standing next to her is a photographer, clicking away at his camera intensely.

A flush of shame seeps through me, as well as confusion. Did Valentina know that they were going to be here? Is that why she kissed me back, and started the flirting?

Ugh. The kiss is messing with my head and I don't know what to make of it.

"The shoot, remember?" The Duchess ushers, and when neither of us make a move, she rapidly claps her hands, which gets us moving.

⚜️⚜️⚜️

"Are we ready now?" The camera man lets out a rusty cough. "You're sure about that outfit, darlin?"

A spike of rage shoots through me as he looks at Valentina with a sleazy look on his face.

"Don't talk to her like that." I snap.

"It's fine, Luke." She shakes her head, and I hate that she has to be used to this. This disgusting reality where people judge her for how she acts, and she never had a choice but to be in the spotlight.

She doesn't meet my eyes when speaking to me, and it confuses me even more. What was that moment we shared? Looking back on it, it was just her looking fine, me with some serious paroxysm (Noun; a sudden burst of emotion), and an odd moment we shared that could have been kalopsia (Ancient Greek noun; the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are). Did she bewitch me into thinking that we could be friends? Could she get close, and stab me in the back?

Valentina must notice I'm beginning to panic, because she pulls me aside with a tight expression of worry and nervousness.

"Hey, hey, are you okay?" She looks up at me, a hand on my shoulder.

"No, this is ridiculous." I sigh. "It's too soon. We should wait until we get to know each other, and sort out whatever that thing earlier was."

"Wait... so you don't want to engage just yet?"

"If you're okay with it, yeah." I call over to the camera crew, "Sorry, guys, this was a waste of time! We'll find another day!"

They grumble and pack things up, and Valentina tugs my hand as I begin towards the palace.

"Oh, no you don't." She scoffs. "We are not going to be one of those couples who don't communicate their feelings and end up in a miserable relationship. As much as I know we both don't want to be in this scenario, I'm not going to have my marriage go sideways too."

"Fine, let's talk."