"Queens and commoners, princes and peasants, welcome to the party of the quincentury!"
For most people, receiving an invitation to the White King's Masquerade is an honor. Even attempting to attend is a chance to go down in history. But for Sol of M...
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As I stepped into the courtyard, it felt different.
The air was too warm, the breeze too gentle. I strode over to the fountain which glowed a bit too brightly.
But when I saw Ciel everything else melted away. He stood up and grinned, skin still perfectly tanned, hair still perfectly messy.
"Nice of you to join us today," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"It wasn't easy to clear my schedule," I breathed, as he drew me closer.
He laughed his melliflous, beautiful laugh and I melted, staring into his walnut brown eye and wondering how I got so lucky.
The fountain tinkled shrilly as he raised a hand to cup my face, tilting it to his as he bent. But the warmth of his skin was stifling, the rush of the fountain was discordant, the stars shone with a garish light. I pushed away from him abruptly.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, the concern in his voice like a knife in my heart.
I sucked in a breath of the too warm air and steadied myself, swallowing down my discomfort.
"No it's just... If we do this here, now, how do we know it's not just Aleph?" I said, slowly.
He laughed, caught off-gaurd. "Aleph. That's what's bothering you?"
"I just want our first kiss to be real. Not because of some cupid playing matchmaker."
"Solida," he began softly, grabbing my hand, "this is real."
He placed it on his chest, and I could feel his steady heartbeat. "I am real. The nights at the fountain, they are real too," he said, gently.
He took my other hand and smiled, searching my eyes deeply, "Plus, would you rather do this on the journey, running from a pack of orcs?"
I laughed as I punched him the chest. "You're not funny, you know?"
"But you're laughing," he shot back, grinning.
I looked into his glittering brown eye as he beamed, and my heart clenched. How could I have ever thought that this - us - was simply the work of a cupid?
"Look, Sol, love, we don't have to do this no-"
He didn't get to finish, his eye wide as our lips met, before it fluttered shut and he kissed me back.
He held me closer, and I could feel his want, his hunger, his desire. We broke apart, breathing hard and I gazed up at him. He grinned, his cheeks flushed as he kissed me again. And again. On my lips, on my cheek, on my neck.
It was enchanting, and it was so wondrously real.
I fell into bed, grinning and breathless as I relived every moment, every touch, every kiss. And I slept deeply, dreaming of sandy beaches and seashells.
