Golden Hour | Mark Lee

12

You sniffled, looking up at him. "There's no music."

He wiped your tears away with his thumb, then moved his hands down to your hips.

"Listen." he whispered. "If you listen, really listen, you'll hear it."

You put your hands around his shoulders, and lay your head on his chest. You could hear the dull thud of his heartbeat, steady, strong, whole.

"I can hear it." you said.

And then there were no words left. You danced until your limbs became heavy, and until Mark suddenly began losing his breath, panting as if he'd just run from the stables and back. You slumped against the back of the couch, facing the open doors of the balcony. You leaned your head on Mark's shoulder, your eyelids suddenly heavy.

"Mark." you said, and for some reason it was difficult to speak. "What will happen to our families?"

Mark took a few seconds to answer, and when he did, his voice was tired and broken, as if he was forcing the words out. "Jeno will take care everything. Your mother, too." he answered. "He'll be a better king than I would've been."

"We've been selfish."

"Maybe."

You fell asleep against Mark just as the sun began the very start of its descent. Mark's breaths were full and deep, lulling you to sleep, the cold winter air gently stinging your face. It was too calm for the chaos you knew was happening just a couple rooms away, havoc wreaking in the stone walls of your home. But for that moment, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except for the feeling of Mark's skin against yours.

You didn't know how much time had passed when you woke up. It couldn't have been long, the sun's light filtering through the open doors, a golden light filling the room for just an hour. It forced your eyes awake, and you blinked against the warm light as you lifted your head from Mark's shoulder. Your neck was stiff, and your eyes dry and painful from the tears you'd shed. Every muscle ached with pain, and your head throbbed in agony. The room was dizzy, and you found yourself leaning against Mark for support.

It didn't take you long to realize that his chest no longer rose with each breath, his heart no longer drummed beneath his robes. Gasping softly and steeling your heart, you lifted your head to look at Mark.

His expression was peaceful, if you didn't look at the dried blood staining his mouth. He looked, as people often said, as if he could be sleeping.

A tear made its way down your face, trailing down to your jawline before falling to your hand curled in your lap.

The sight of the bloody tear wrenched your heart, and you willed yourself to stay calm. You looked back at Mark, raising your hand to brush his damp hair from his forehead, leaving a smear of red across his temple.

You dropped your head against his shoulder once again, and stared out into the sun, the golden glow warming your face.

"Just one more hour." you whispered. Your lips were dry and cracked, and yet they still held the memory of Mark's mouth against yours.

The song had ended, and you could only watch as the golden hour slipped away.