Desiderium

Title: Desiderium

Genre: Romance, Angst

Word count: 618

A/N: Believe it or not, this has always been an idea that I've always found to be very fascinating. I never liked the whole prince charming concept - way too... I dunno. Boring, I suppose? Hahaha, but in any case, here's a 'lil something I just came up with out of the blue, and I hope you'll enjoy it. If not, well... Have fun anyway.

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Desiderium

(An ardent longing, as for something lost)

Sometimes, when he's alone and the world quiets down into a muffled sort of murmur devoid of death and darkness, he dreams of beautiful green shades of emerald hues. It's during one of those instances when he's down on one knee before her, swearing his vows of undying fealty that she smiles at him, eyes enigmatic and luminous, and he swears that there's a beat thrumming through his chest that leaves him breathless. From where he stands in his role as the castle's guardian, the dragon that guards the princess, he fully understands that his role is to die for her, and has prepared for it since the moment he'd given up a part of him to the dragons in exchange for the ability to protect, because nothing ever comes without a price. But for him to become so fixated on something other than his duty was the last thing he expected.

Not much has changed since then, really. He's still fighting endless battles, still running out of time that wasn't his to begin with, still trying so desperately to find solace in the things that reminded him of being human, still wanting to live – but he has a purpose now, a reason, something to fight and put his life on the line for, and that alone makes him feel alive and, quite ironically, human. All of it is for her, the one person who holds his heart, his soul, his loyalty. Nevertheless, no matter what she says, he knows what he is, and he is most definitely not her prince, because princes weren't supposed to be so dark, broken, and hollow inside. Even though he may look like it, he's not human... not anymore.

There's nothing human about the crimson hue of his eyes, in the way it ripples as waves of scarlet lap at the outer edges of his onyx pupils, and how his hands, human hands, wielded a draconian power unbeknownst to those who didn't understand the dragon's magic and it's strange, esoteric behavior. But despite everything, he knows that she trusts him with more than her life, and believes in him, in the little light he has left in his hollow soul, and he can't help but taste the new sensation that makes itself known every time she's around. It's comforting, unfamiliar, and envelops him like the sapphire flames that he holds in his hands, that encompasses his entire being, and burns low and steady in the center of his chest. And while his flames are neither hot nor cold, and although he's a dragon and is therefore insusceptible to fire, he swears that it's only when she touches him that he truly feels burned.

And yet, there's always something there to remind him of who they were, because everyone wants her, everyone has to have her, and being her dragon, her shield, her sword, he has no time to fantasize about something that will never come to pass. He's got a job to do, a princess to protect, so he ignores the burgeoning weight in his chest whenever they turn their backs to each other, because he knows that one day, she'll fall, and no matter how hard he tries to catch her, there's already someone else – there's always someone else. But that doesn't stop him from fighting, from pushing his body to the limit, from standing up once again despite how the battle takes its toll on what's left of his soul. He can't afford to lose, so he stands up, gathers what's left of his strength, holds the hues and shards of the pure sky in the palms of his hands, and blazes.