Calum Hood One Shots

Between the Aisles [Prince!Calum]

Summary: Prince Calum was your friend, except when the two of you found yourselves alone, either in the dark corners of the library or in the privacy of your bedrooms. Then he was something so much more. But was it the same for him?

-------------------------------------

        The palace library is where you felt most at ease. It was, unsurprisingly, the quietest part of the overwhelmingly large estate, and you spent countless hours roaming the aisles, fingers brushing along the spines of the books, before finding a comfortable spot or a leather chair and losing yourself to a book of your choice. There were large windows on one side of the library, the glass actually taking up the entirety of the wall, allowing for endless natural light to bathe the room. The view was that of the valley below, the greenery as bright as the sunlight that streamed in—save for this time of year, where snow blanketed the grounds in pristine white and provided a haze through the sky. And sitting on a chair by the window, the snow falling gently outside, a book in your hands, was your favorite way to spend your time in the library.

Along with, of course, the moments the Prince caught sight of you.

The shelves in the library were many and stood tall, full of any and every novel and textbook and document the royal family and its curators could get their hands on to stock up. And through the gaps of the shelves down the long aisles, you would catch glimpses of Prince Calum making his way through, though never towards you—despite his attention being solely on you. You could feel it, every time—feel him. The way his dark eyes burned on your skin, a delicious sensation that simultaneously warmed you and sent chills down your spine. His wandering through the library would appear innocent, but you knew it was anything but. Knew that he was a predator on the hunt and every time, it was you who he was after. And you were compliant every time.

Sometimes, the Prince would join you by taking a seat across from you, a book in his own hands. You two would sit in the quiet of the library, both doing your best in keeping your interest strictly on the books you were reading, never giving away the glances you'd lay upon the other. It was a game; always wanting to look at the other, but never wanting to be caught.

It wasn't as though your dalliance was forbidden; you were the daughter of Calum's father's, the King, most trusted advisor. You'd been living at the palace for as long as Calum had, were practically treated as royalty—though, not to the same extent as Calum, of course. But the only relationship you showed the world you had with Calum was that of being his friend, nothing more. It was easier that way, less attention.

You didn't enjoy it—the attention. But if it was Calum's, during your private moments, you reveled in it.

You often thought of that first night, where your friendship had turned into something more intimate, where you crossed a line neither of you expected to. It had been during one of the many parties the royal family threw in the palace—you couldn't hope to remember what it had been for—and unsurprisingly had grown bored of the festivities. You were more prone to spend most of the night reading rather than drinking and entertaining people, which was why you had snuck off to the library. As the daughter of a high ranking member in the palace, just below the King and Queen, you were expected to present a smiling face and adapt to the role you were given. Unfortunately, your pretty face also deigned the attraction of the sons of noblemen and local lords—sons you didn't want to entertain. So off to the library you went, the wine you had drank giving you the motivation to do so.

It hadn't been long after until there was another presence in the grand library, and you had been surprised, that first night, to look up from the book you had been reading to see the Prince himself wandering inside. How you two ended up hidden between the aisles as he took you against the shelves was a blur—but the memory of it actually happening was one burned in your head.