❝𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒕.❞
(the stars incline us, they do not bind us.)
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𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔
Born as twins, yet one of them had everything, and the other ha...
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Thethia: Mt. Plytois, The House in the Mountain
• Elianna•
Elianna let out a small exclaim when she was suddenly lifted up in the air by a sweep of his strong arms. If it was anyone else, she would've already wrapped her arm around the person's neck and strangled till he was well into his afterlife but it just had to be him — the smug prince from the Northern Kingdom. She was positioned to face him directly and his handsome face was up close to hers.
He let out a playful smile, "We meet again, Elianna."
She flushed bright red at the sound of him calling her name. His voice was so much deeper and smoother than she had remembered and she actually liked the way he called her. It was a nice and warm feeling fleeting through her chest and when he moved an inch closer she quickly snapped out of her paralysed state and pushed her arms out, wanting to reestablish distance.
This devious man is dangerous, very dangerous.
Instead of getting out of his hold, she felt the hand on her waist gripped together, holding her firmly in place. For every reason possible in this realm, she panicked and startled to struggle. When she accidentally hit the wound on his right arm, he gave a grimace of pain and she halted to an immediate stop and froze.
"I'm sorry," she asked remorsefully. "Are you okay?"
※
• Rowan•
That amount of pain did not matter to Rowan. Yet, looking at her face that was overflowing with concern for him, he couldn't help but tease her a little. Lowering his head and facing away from her, he closed his eyes while crouching forward a little.
"Ouch." He faked a groan.
He felt the lady in his arms started to panic and he was trying his best to suppress the desire to laugh. His shoulders trembled a little and she asked again with a worried-filled voice, "Goddess, I'm so sorry. It hurts that much?"
"I-It h-hurts," Rowan was at his limit to hold his laughter in that his words came out in small stutters.
"I-I—" she muttered guiltily, her hands wrapped around his biceps as she tried to turn his arm around to inspect the wound.
Her touch was gentle and he moved him so carefully that it was as though she was afraid that she had exerted too much a moment ago and it split his wound open again. Unable to hold it any longer, he pulled her close into his hold and burst out laughing, "Aren't you a precious one?"
