𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝐿𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑇𝑖𝑚𝑒 // 𝑊𝑀𝑀𝐴𝑃 [𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑜𝑡]

May you remain happy

"Love is a sin and a blessing,
The privilege of those meant to be,
But I fell for you,
And you weren't meant to catch me.

So, though I have the wings to carry me into your arms,
These same feathers are the ones to choke me at night."

<~~~•~~~>
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Nobles weren't meant to marry for love. It simply didn't happen. They were born as a means to carry the bloodline, arranged marriages running rampant, and Ijekiel had grown up repeating those lines. He already lived with his future beloved, that young and lovely Jeanette. So, to think that others married for love? Nobles fraternizing with commoners?

"How foolish," Ijekiel thought.

But love isn't something meant to be rationalized, explained through paragraphs and poems, when each case is meant to be special. Much like how the emperor fell in love with that dancer from Siodhonna, or how his father fell in love with someone that he couldn't have, Ijekiel fell in love with the princess. When that little angel fell from the sky, chaste white feathers falling from her gown, he immediately knew that she was the one.

So, that young Alpheus began to return to that very same spot, awaiting her visits and wondering if she would ever come back. He held her clear sapphires deep in his mind, staring at them in the darkness of the night. And, if he heard her voice, that soft chiming of bells, when he would walk in the garden with that kind Jeanette, he listened and lost himself to his obsession.

Love was a flowery sensation for that young man, of petals in his throat and a veil of vines before his eyes. It filled his nose with her rosen scent, mixed with the chocolates that she loved. Ijekiel wouldn't admit it, but he couldn't breathe, the petals gathering within him. But, when he met the princess, that unattainable Athanasia, the petals loosened, and he became even more dependent on the princess- his obsession, his addiction, his oxygen.

The duke encouraged his son to court Athanasia, pushing aside the young and pure Jeanette. And, though he knew that it wasn't exactly right, that he should have taken care of that lonely and manipulated child, Ijekiel had only the princess in his mind.

He sought her hand and danced with her on her debutante, feeling the warmth of her skin as he held her in his arms. And, when he kissed her hand, his lips tingling with the touch, the petals scattered in his body, filling him with love's tender warmth.

It should have been easy. How else could it have ended? Ijekiel thought that he was the best for her to love, a bachelor of wealth, status, and perfection. But, he soon saw that she had someone else in her mind, that wizard with dark hair and cold ruby eyes. Perhaps it was in the way that those sapphire eyes gleamed in his presence, or the way that she leaned towards his touch, but Ijekiel knew that he had become just like his father- he had fallen in love with someone that he couldn't have.

Even as he kept pursuing her hand, growling at that wizard and subtly throwing insults, Ijekiel knew that he had already lost. He watched from afar as the princess slipped from his grasp, her eyes filling with warmth as she stared at Lucas. And, though he felt bitter regret gather in his heart, everything became numb the moment that he lost her warmth.

So, when he was invited to their engagement, his body overflowed with petals, golden at the tip with roots of the sapphire ocean. He felt it in his fingertips and even his scalp. And when he stood by her, he felt those petals spread. One by one, they clung to his veins, clogging them, piercing them, and disrupting his system.

In the garden, far from the other aristocrats, he watched the fireflies dance. He couldn't bear to shoulder the petals anymore, and he didn't care that Lucas was watching from the balcony up above. That ruby red gaze was filled with pity and understanding, something that they've never shared before. It felt far too dirty.

"I love you."
Athanasia didn't dare reply,

And Ijekiel could only laugh at himself for even daring to open his mouth. What could his confession do? What did he expect to change? So, he tried to speak again because the fantasy had to end, this story of a one-sided love that he would have to live with.

"Is it a surprise?" He asked, somber eyes gleaming silvery gold beneath the moonlight. Athanasia shook her head, golden strands shimmering in the garden. Ijekiel felt himself fall in love with her all over again, cold metal drowning in the deep sapphire abyss.

"Is that so," the young man laughed, his heart trembling as the wind caressed his head, a gentle mother's kindness. "I suppose that I wasn't very subtle."

"Young Duke Alpheus," his companion tried to say, but he shook his head. He couldn't bear to see her guilt. "To whom we fall in love with is something that we cannot control."

For a moment, Ijekiel caught a flash of surprise in her bright sapphires. He felt a bitter smile blossom on his own face, but he continued nonetheless. "I fell in love with you, and you fell in love with another. It is unfortunate, but it is what it is, and it is not your responsibility to tend to my emotions."

Silence fell between them once again. Athanasia had turned her gaze away, waves of pitying remorse crashing down upon the shores of her face, but Ijekiel kept his gaze upon hers. It would be the last time that he could delusion himself, a young boy catching the fall of a lost angel.

"This love... it is something that I can never forget, that I will always cherish. That is why I wish the two of you an eternity of a blessed marriage. And, as you find happiness with him, I hope to eventually find mine as well."

"...I assure you, young duke, that the spirits of Obelia will someday guide you to your own spring garden," Athanasia bowed her head, curtsying the way that the heiress to the empire should never care to do. It wasn't for him, nor for her guilt, but for the memories that they had shared, all of which had fallen from the bushes.

Emerald leaves and fallen rosen petals, they soared to the sky along with the fireflies. And though the roses in the gardens held their thorns, those petals that had vanished were only smooth and vibrant with color.

"Thank you, your highness," Ijekiel bowed, his voice oddly calm despite his tumultuous emotions. And, when the princess finally left, Lucas at the end of the path that she was walking upon, Ijekiel turned around so that the magician could not see his expression. His tears and his frown, the pride that he had kept alive, all of it would age and die along with the night.

There, in the garden, all by his lonesome, Ijekiel fell deep into the ocean one more time. For the last time, he remembered the angel that he had met at the age of ten. And, as the tears froze upon the surface of his cheeks, he opened his eyes again and said, "may you remain happy, my angel."

<~~~•~~~>
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          Love does not abide by any law; it takes and it takes without any respect of what the world wants. We may resist or ignore the call but, quite frankly, no matter what happens, we have already lost.