Unrequited Mates bxbxb

sick_in_love.mp4

Elias Johnson

Gemport Palace, California

After Weeks of Elias Living With His Mates

I ducked my head when a group of guards walked through the large set of gates. It was past curfew at the castle, and I knew people wouldn't go easy on me if I was caught. My heart was beating fast and I shuffled through the rather weathered courtyards.

Light snow covered the stone paving, so I was wary of my foot prints.

It didn't naturally snow in the California coasts; even I knew that much. There had to be a charm surrounding the palace. It would be just bizarre if there wasn't. Although, I wondered why there was a charm placed. These weren't common from what I'd seen in my years.

When the guards were out of sight, I continued around the castle perimeter until I found the garden. It was the same, crisp garden I had been found in by my two mates. When I had laid down there, I was fully prepared for the snow to take me. Instead, I was sheltered by my mates. Even the though made me smile.

It had no fencing; it was just free to grow wildly throughout the left hand side of the castle. However, everything here looked so trimmed and neat. I never did see anybody roam near the gardens, which surprised me at it's state.

The garden was still bright and lush, even in the horrid cold weather.

Without hesitation, I curled up against the outer palace walls, surrounded by colors. To my left, I recognized daisies of varying colors. I reached my hand out to stroke the silky petals

My back was pressed against the stone bricks.

Snow softly fell around and froze me to the core, but I made no motion to leave. I didn't wish for the snow to take me this time; I simply liked sitting out here. That, and the palace was lonely.

Little white flakes of frost swirled on my face, reminding of a time when I was younger. And when the snow was organic, rather than a strong witch's charm.

"Witchcraft." I dramatically whispered to myself.

I shoved my fingers in between my bent knees to ease my (completely rational) fear of them falling off.

What good would I be without fingers? Would my mates still love me?

Part of me fantasized that the King or Captain Lincoln would make an attempt to find me. I wished that when they'd find me, one if them would take me in their strong embrace (I stood far shorter and smaller than either of them) and fuss over how cold my body was.

My needy demon yearned for my mates to pepper my face in kisses and tell me about how much they loved me. I wanted them to tell me how happy they were to find me. I needed to hear that I was important to them.

They could bring me inside and give me a cup of tea. I'd get all bashful and thank them, not that I could help the fact that my face practically shone red whenever I got flustered. My mates could be the thing that brought my life together, as I was an absolute mess.

I longed for a place in their bed and their hearts.

However, the chilled air brought me back to reality.

I was alone. 

Here in the garden, it was just me. There was no one else interested. Not necessarily in sitting in the garden, but knowing me at all. My mates had hardly spoken to me since my arrival. The staff were cold.

I was alone. It felt like I always ended up alone. My old eyes had seen over one hundred years, and almost each one of them was spent emotionally independent.