Empire 《Mikayuu/YuuMika》

⥈ Chapter Twelve ⥈

The air was quiet between the two of them. Or, to Yuuichirou, it might have been the absence of understanding that drowned the noises in excruciating silence. He did not hear the pouring of water in the fountain, nor did he hear the leaves rustling or the crickets chirping contentedly in the grasses and flowers that lied dormant in the darkness. Confusion occupied his mind as he stared at the delicate features of Prince Mikaela's face, bathed in silver from the gentle moon that glowed from overhead.

"M-Mika..." he began, but he did not know how to respond to his words. He wanted to say something assuring, something grateful, but his mouth would not move.

Yuuichirou caught a glimpse of hurt in the blond's eyes, guilt immediately filling his abdomen. He scrambled to say something, anything at all, but his mind was blank. He stuttered syllables and stumbled over words, his cheeks heated from embarrassment. It was a lot to take in, he knew, but as he looked at Mikaela's forlorn, yet quizzical eyes, he composed himself, relinquishing his flustered mannerisms. He closed his eyes and inhaled courage before holding the other male's gaze.

"Mika, I... Likewise," he told him, his eyes holding truth. He didn't think of words to speak; instead, they flowed out of his mouth with wild abandon, as if they had consciousnesses of their own. "I feel the same. I think about kissing you all the time. Well, I have been recently. Lately, you have been visiting me in my dreams every night and I don't want to wake. I look at you, at your smile, at your hair, at your eyes, and all I can think about is kissing you."

It was the prince's turn to be stunned, attempting to comprehend the words that had almost been thrown at him as if they were writings in a book. His eyes held an incredulous, yet jubilant look, like he had not been expecting that sort of answer, but there it was, knocking on his door as if he invited it over for dinner. The corners of his lips curled into a relieved, pleased smile, and it was all he could do not to pull the dark-haired male into an embrace and press a deep kiss onto his lips. It was an intriguing thought, he contemplated as he wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"So, may I?"

Mikaela blinked in surprise—Yuuichirou was full of surprises that night, he mused. He nodded gently, but his gut was overflowing with desire and ardor that he fought to restrain. Yuuichirou's emerald eyes softened as he cupped his cheek in his quivering hand.

Never had Yuuichirou been more nervous in the sixteen years of his life. He stiffened his joints to cease the shaking of his bones, but to no avail. Mikaela's lips looked so tempting and soft, and Yuuichirou wanted nothing more than to press them to his own, but he remained still, frozen where he sat. His cheeks flared, feeling hot despite the chill of the late night air.

Mikaela could say no different. After all, he was as just as flustered as the boy sitting beside him. The whispers of the wind had seemingly been muted, as well as the cascading of the water in the grand fountain. He could no longer feel the coldness of the stone wall he sat upon against his thighs. He only noticed Yuuichirou, and he wouldn't have it any other way. He would immerse himself in him and be completely content. A world without him was not much of one at all, he thought as he felt himself draw closer into Yuuichirou's warmth.

Every second seemed like an hour during Yuuichirou's unwillingness—no, not unwillingness, more reluctance—until Mikaela grew impatient. The raven-haired male looked into his eyes then drew away and tapped until they gravitated toward each other, and the process would repeat. It was a painful impatience, really, growing more feral and vicious within the prince. Despite his internalized hostility, he appeared gentle, delicate, like the flower he met in the woods what seemed like an eternity ago.

Yuuichirou did not wish for the intimate mood to fade. In fact, he chased after it as much as he could. He wanted Mikaela, every single trait and feature. He wouldn't be satisfied if anything was withheld from him. He would fight and aspire to unlock every single aspect that the beautiful blond could offer. A irritated smile, guised with a bit of expecting and gentleness appeared on the prince's lips. Mikaela's cheek felt warm and soft beneath his hand as he threw caution to the wind and gently achieved his desires, appeasing the other male's impatience.

Mikaela returned the kiss with all he could. It felt as if he poured all his emotions into the kiss, zealously noting every action, every movement. Everything about the kiss was soft: the way he moved his lips, the way he caressed his cheek with his thumb, chilled from the bitter air. His lips were soft, as he expected them to be, but he never imagined it to this capacity. He could never imagine the explosion of passion within him, nor the satisfaction of getting the one thing he desired ever since he met this mysterious, dark-haired, emerald-eyed boy in the woods on a whim, conversing with him about fictitious kingdoms and dreams. He had lost his naivety, but that very day, he learned how to love, a feeling that lied dormant as he waited for an opportunity to express it. He learned how to truly live when they met once again, eight years later. These lessons of bravery and passion and childlike determination were far more useful to him than the many years under the tutelage of his own mother. It was more important to know how to love than to rule, he thought.

Their breaths were lost to the night. Even the flowers around them could not bear witness, as their colorful heads were cloaked from the darkness in their repose. There was only Tsuki-san, who watched with a proud, matriarchal gaze and smiled gently down on the two of them. It rained silver moonlight as they shared their gentle kiss until they felt the inclination to draw away.

Yuuichirou was once again stunned by the beauty of Mikaela's cerulean eyes, glimmering like crystals. How dare Taiyou-san shine when Mikaela flashed his bright eyes? They were far more pulchitrudinous than any ocean or sea could aspire to be.

"Mika..." he whispered, earning a gentle smile from his friend. Friend? No, he preferred the term lover.

"Yuu-chan."

"I must leave soon."

"You mustn't," replied Mikaela.

"I must," he repeated. "Can we meet tomorrow night? Here?"

Mikaela only gave him a kiss in response. How was it that once the first kiss had come and gone, the wall of uncertainty had suddenly crumbled and fallen? It was much easier to display affection in this manner afterwards. It was yet another enigma that the world had yet to solve.

A plethora of farewell kisses had been exchanged between the two of them, and it seemed as if neither of them wanted the night to end, but the waning moon was disappearing in the subtle light that slowly began to permeate the darkened sky. Mikaela gave him a sorrowful look as he hopped over the garden wall. He may have just lost a home, one that he knew and stayed his whole life. He may not have loved it, but it was home. Now, he could find a home in the prince, in his smile, in his genuineness, and it was a far more better home than he could have ever wanted. Yuuichirou had found something he wanted more than knighthood, something that had to remain a secret for the rest of his days: a love he could call his own.