The Leper and The Angel

Their romance was not for the faint of heart, for it was so tender and pure that it would cause even the Angels in Heaven to weep.

The Leper King was stricken with illness that rendered his body lame and failing, a sharp and youthful man trapped within a rotting corpse.

The Angel was gifted with healing hands meant to soothe and heal, her voice tender and soft as if the sound of butterflies fluttering upon a lulling breeze.

He was the Leper in need of healing whilst she was the Angel intent on saving.

Saving the Leper proved difficult for the Angel, however, for the silver mask was always present. A barrier that none could break.

She was an Angel that was meant to heal with her hands. He was a Leper that was never meant to be touched.

The Angel cared for the Leper in all her tender fury, gentle fingertips moving to heal and soothe his raging inflammations. The Angel's tender and pure hands never once touched the sinful and rotting flesh of the Leper, but rather the smooth silk of his fine, kingly attire and the cold steel of a silver mask.

The Angel yearned to touch what she could not.

The Leper yearned to be touched by what he should not.

The Angel cared for the Leper by providing companionship and prayer.

The Leper protected the Angel from his own disease by utilizing a silver mask.

However, like all things forbidden, the poison of love began to infect their hearts, testing their resolve and tempting them with what they should not touch.

The Angel did not want to risk staining the beauty of the Leper with one so inferior.

The Leper did not want to risk tainting the purity of the Angel with his sickened frame.

The temptation, however, was always there. Silent, yet screaming.

Screaming and raking from the very fiber of her soul, like a storm kicked a rage in the pit of her stomach. The Angel's thin, soft lips adored with a pinkish hue parted ever so lightly in aching desire, her frazzled tongue seeking for words to stop making herself a fool in front of the Leper. Arella, however, could find no such words to utter. Only one word rolled off of the young woman's tongue, soft and gentle in the stillness of the night, as if in fret of breaking the silence, "Baldwin?"

His name left in admiration and affection from her pure lips, her beautiful voice trickling through the serenity of the moon's light upon gentle wind to the Leper's ears.

The pair were close despite the girth of the Palace's mighty halls, silk linens fluttering in the cool night breeze whilst the moonlight poured into the halls. The moon's light caressed the form of the man before her, casting a luminescent, almost ghostly glow against the white of his attire. The silver mask, however, was illuminated far greater, the metallic lips unmoving and still.

Their bodies were close, yet remaining untouched of one another, the Leper cocked his gaze down upon the woman, lean body towering over Arella. The smell of medicinal herbs and incense wafted from the man before her as shaking, feminine fingers rose slowly, oh, so slowly, to the Leper. The Angel's fingertips tenderly touched the silver cheek before her, though her heated fingers stained the cold mask with perspiration. Arella breathed slow, breath caught within her throat as her blue eyes looked upon the man before her, looking upon his crystalline eyes rimmed with red.

Arella never touched a man before. Not so tenderly and lovingly as she did now.

The Angel's eyes continued to look into the Leper's as her thin lips once more parted in want, a tingling sensation filling her virgin lips. The young woman's fingertips continued to stroke the cold steel of the delicately crafted mask. Despite Arella's underlying state of serenity, the woman's heart was ablaze with fear, ache, and love whilst her feminine fingers continued their trembling dance upon Baldwin's metal cheek.

The Angel never kissed a man before.

The Leper never kissed a woman before.

But Arella was no woman, just as Baldwin was no man.

She was an Angel, and he, a Leper.

Angels could not kiss Lepers.

Lepers could not kiss Angels.

Even if the pair were infected with the poison of love, their lips could never touch.

The lovers knew this unspoken rule well, and had always loved from afar. Together in companionship and platonic love, but never in courtly love-true love.

The young woman's eyes looked into those of her dear companion before having her gaze fall to the metallic steel of his lips. Slowly, hesitantly did Arella tilt her head, lips quivering as they begged to be lovingly caressed by the Leper's own, however marred and gnarled. Baldwin's ice born eyes watched as the woman before him stood upon her tip toes in order to reach him, the soft hue of her pink lips alluring his gaze. The Leper's own lips ached with desire as the man bent forward, seeking the affection of an Angel's kiss. His lips, however, were not what the Angel deserved. Perhaps at one time, before the disease crippled his body and marred his skin. Not now. Not now. The Leper's Angel deserved better.

Arella's lips continued to quiver as she neared the metallic lips of Baldwin's mask, her fingertips more firmly pressed against the steel. Soft flesh and hard steel were barely held apart as the young woman once more attempted to find the words she wished to speak, though only found the Leper's name softly rolling off of her tongue, "Baldwin..."

It was his name that the blonde uttered last before pressing her lips against the Leper's cold steel. Baldwin raised his undamaged hand, fingers curling to caress the woman's cheek in the most gentlest of touches.

The Leper desired the lips of his Angel, though untouched by his they remained.

The Angel desired the lips of her Leper, though her virgin lips caressed the cold lips of a mask instead.