floriography [ stories five ]

roses are falling || rewrite / new attempt

[ hi i just?? was listened to eastside by benny blanco, halsey, and khalid, and got reminded of this au for some reason??

excuse me um anyway

this is the fairytale au thing but rewritten thanks
it's also in lewis' pov

(my dad has lost his mind over covid-19 and practically put us on house arrest i'm straight up not having a good time rn lmao )

-lew. ]

—————

Sometimes it takes a hundred years to find your happy ending. I might just be an outlier to that, though, considering the situation I found myself in.

At one point in my life, I was a prince, although I'd hardly consider myself one now. If my father could see how I act now, he'd surely disown me. I'd went from a respectable member of society to an actual pirate.

But my story starts just over a century ago, not now.

—

From the time I was able to move around on my own, my parents kept any and all sharp objects away from me. Can you imagine having to eat everything with a spoon? That happened until my parents were sure I wouldn't stab myself with a fork.

And I didn't get an explanation for it until I was about ten. Finally, after bothering my mother for years, she broke down and told me.

Because my life seems to have all the elements of a good fantasy story, it turns out that a few fairies blessed me right after I was born. And, since my parents didn't think things through completely, they ended up snubbing the one fairy in the kingdom that you really shouldn't leave out.

She took one look at baby me and pretty much said, "Yeah, fuck that kid. He's gonna prick his finger and die before he even becomes an adult." (I apologize for my language. Things have changed a lot in these past few months, I never would've spoken like this before now.)

After that evil thing left, understandably distraught, my mother begged one of the remaining fairies to help. Luckily, one had yet to give her gift, and it's through her magic that I'm able to tell this story.

Instead of death, the price for stabbing myself was a century of sleep, only to be broken by a kiss. My father thought it was a practical joke, his son a damsel in distress, but my mother took it seriously.

Now, have you ever met a teenage boy who was absolutely careful all the time? Neither have I. I was as close to normal as I could be, except for one thing.

I had a close friend, the son of a guard on the same career path as his father. He was going to be my bodyguard someday, provided that the 'curse' was as fictional as my father held it.

He and I spent most of our time together, and soon, I started noticing small details about him that made my heart flutter. Like the way his eyes would light up when he saw someone he was fond of, and how his calloused fingers felt when he'd grab my wrist to pull me somewhere out of the way.

Apparently my father saw something in our interactions that I didn't (I've always been kind of oblivious), and it wasn't long before he announced to everyone that he'd arranged a marriage between the princess of a neighboring kingdom and myself.

I took the news hard. That day, I bribed one of my tutors to tell me where all the 'unsafe' objects had been hidden. I relayed the information to my friend, and thankfully, he retrieved a small spindle that I could easily hide in my room.

Before I could turn to leave, my contraband item in a piece of cloth and hidden within my shirt, he kissed me. I wasn't expecting it- I doubt anyone would've expected it. But it wasn't bad, and I didn't pull away like I thought I would.