ᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵍˡᵒʷˢ,

fell in love with the fire long ago ,

[lovekindled-a]

#LOVEKINDLED  . . .  independent,  highly selective & mutually exclusive multimuse writing blog.  written by sofi, twenty3, she/her. 

links  . . .  ⁽ ¹ ⁾ carrd.   ⁽ ² ⁾ prompts.  ⁽ ³ ⁾ pinterest.  ⁽ ⁴ ⁾ percy jackson.

[luckbabe]

for the second time in the night, the recognition of alex's voice feels like a punch in the gut. he freezes in his attempt at escape, his eyes are wide as saucers. and yes, he'll give alex this: what the fuck, is right. the buzz of alcohol covering the harsh reality with a veil of mild confusion, once pleasant, now an inconvenience, leaves his mouth agape. alex had just been on the other side of the room when henry spotted him. he'd been doing the right thing, had he not? leaving alex be, to continue having a splendid time with his attractive friends, etc. a recurring thought is chanted like a mantra inside his head as he peers to where he'd erroneously believed alex to be: he is not jealous, he has no right to be. diversion had always suited the first-son, a predisposition they did not share. so how did he end up before the very person he'd been trying to avoid? his predetermination, it seems, is to hurt the both of them.

he cannot bring himself to apologize for the aggressive greeting, but from their expressions, it is entirely obvious that his intention was not to slam into his ex-something. instead, strings some words together incoherently, something along the lines of 'pez', 'shelter' and 'celebrating'. henry is grateful for the nearby speaker, concealing his inability to speak with its thunderous bass. were they anywhere else, one might suspect the prince of wales was having a stroke. bodies dance around them, pictures of youth and elation contrasting the scene they are mounting; an excerpt from a tragedy. even in the relative anonymity of the ambiance, it becomes evident to henry that they are not blending into the dance floor.

he'd already acknowledged it was in both their best interest if he were the one to retreat. he remembers idly that he has a girlfriend, according to the public eye. being spotted in the same nightclub as his rumoured former fling would be fatal. henry takes the accusation in stride, an apologetic grimace communicating what the synapses that coordinate verbal communication are currently failing to achieve. his fingers rub the bridge of his nose, equal parts frustrated, ashamed, and dizzy. “  i was just leaving. carry on. ” he wobbles away with a slight shake of the head at the prospect of alex enjoying himself. it's a cruel thought that leaves him feeling ill, as he slithers away from the crowd. he feels around his pocket, fishing for his phone as his guilt begins to taste like bile in his mouth, and a wave of nausea reroutes his exit. after his sister, he knows how unkind the press can be when it comes to fabricating stories. a pit stop at the toilets can go a long way when it comes to crisis prevention.

[lovekindled-a]

henry looks like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide and a careful stance, as if bracing for attack. a wave of unpleasant guilt crashes onto him, leaves him grimacing, a reaction that is sure to be misconstructed by his unwilling companion. “  wait! ” he tries uselessly, realizing that he should be used to the sight of henry walking away from him already, should learn to expect it whenever they're unfortunate enough to find each other in the same place. it doesn't seem to get any easier over time, because why would it? nothing that has to do with the prince of wales has ever been uncomplicated, not since they shared a kiss for the first time under new year's fireworks. the anniversary of their initial romantic encounter is fast approaching, a fact that surely neither of them has been able to forget.

alex knows he needs to let him go, cannot survive another one of their disputes, exhausted by their back-and-forth. it'd be simple, watching him disappear into the crowd without a second glance back, turning around and going back to his friends, pretending like he didn't run into the love his life, the man that refuses to love him back, to even acknowledge what they had. but he's always been stupidly impulsive and stubborn, and it only takes a quick glance backwards towards cash before he's following the prince. cash will make sure they have the privacy they need for however long it takes, though he's hoping their conversation is brief. he's not looking for a fight, for another chance at convincing henry of accepting his love. there was a time and place for that, and a dingy club bathroom wasn't the place for such reconciliations. no, those were fantasies of the past, he understood that now.

“  i'm sorry. ” he tries again once he makes it to the bathroom, trying pointlessly to identify where henry is. he can only hope he knows enough to recognize his voice, to know that his words are meant for him. “  i didn't mean that. you— you can stay. ” it's a peace offering, a tentative truce. after spending so much time despising him, there was a time where henry became the only person he ever wanted to talk to, his only real friend. he hadn't realized how lonely the white house made him feel until their phone calls became one of the only bearable moments of his day, something he looked forward to. alex had somehow managed to make more friends, to meet people who actually cared about him as a person, who didn't mind his status as the first son of the united states. but the first person to ever do that was there, and alex had been unkind. “  i'll get my friends and we'll go somewhere else. okay? ” he hesitates for a couple of seconds, before adding: “  it was good to see you, h. ”

[lovekindled-a]

nawt making any promises but i might be around my percy blog once i watch the show

[lovekindled-a]

ok show has been watched follow percy's blog <3

[luckbabe]

the music blasting, pounding in his eardrums, aims to please the masses. crowd pleasers that henry has little opinion about. he’s having a fine time. just fine. his choice for evening plans in the city would have been different after a day at the shelter (moma and carbone, perhaps?). henry agrees, if only because he knows he’s been terrible company for the last couple of months. he nurses his drink, sweaty palms clinging to glass, hesitant to indulge. his guard is up, apropos of his biggest secret having been aired out. there’d been no official statement from the crown. silence on the email leaks, meant to be interpreted as disregard. the new york scene, however, seems unfazed by his presence. again, that’s perfectly fine too.

he sways, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, a cautious bop to his head each time he picks up the rhythm of a song he does not know. the corrosive chemicals of the jaegerbomb he’d recently downed in tandem with the okonjo foundation media team help, now coursing throw his veins, thrumming with the bass of a 2000s hit. this one’s familiar, as was the shout on the opposite side of the dancefloor. a curious neck cranes to seek out the source, before his eyes confirm it, it clicks and he has an answer. in between dancing bodies he can make out the last person he wants to see, smiling, surrounded and gorgeous under the flashing neon lights. suddenly, the sole noise he can hear is that of his ears ringing, the sugar in his system crashing. and what was fine, is decidedly not.

he turns to pez accusingly, but the mortified expression reflecting back at him indicates that he had not been betrayed and this was merely a very unfortunate coincidence. in practical terms, the entirety of the united states was @lovekindled’s turf, but he’d foolishly believed the odds were in his favor. he is not the type to casually run into anyone, security had vetted the place prior to their arrival! he realizes, stupidly, that clearance had been near-immediate; safety protocols for the first son were not too different from that of a foreign royal. “ i’d better leave, i cannot — ” his explanation is winded and cut-short, opting instead for vague hand gestures in the direction of his torment. he cannot breathe with the smoke machine running by his left, his perfected act of disappearing quickly set in motion.

spotify wrapped prompts: vagabundo, sebastian yatra, etc.

[lovekindled-a]

after weeks and weeks of being confined to his apartment, spending each day staring at the computer screen while preparing for his midterms, eventually remembering he's a human being who needs to eat and get some air once in a while, it always culminates the same way: loud music and swaying hips, the alcohol making everything feel a thousand times more pleasant. it helps to be celebrating with the few friends he made during his first year of law school, even if photos of them will be plastered all over twitter the next morning, claiming romantic intentions behind strictly friendly gestures. ever since the emails were leaked and alex came out as bisexual, there's not a single soul in his close circle that isn't rumored to be dating him, regardless of the gender. it would be funny, if the idea of ever dating someone else didn't make him nauseous.

he's not expecting the song, and the resounding exclamation feels only natural, until memories come crashing down and it only leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. it's simply something else to add to the ever-growing list of things that had been ruined by heartbreak. he can't bring himself to blame henry completely, aware that some of it was his own fault. sometimes you jump and hope it's not a cliff, and other times you jump, break every bone in your body and need to spend months slowly nursing yourself back to health. alex needs another drink desperately, and he makes a few gestures towards his friends before disappearing into the sea of dancing bodies. cash will be around somewhere, following him closely, so he's not too worried.

navigating his way through a dancing crowd isn't the easiest of tasks, and he ends up being thrown against other people more often than not. there's one shove against his shoulder that feels harsher than the previous ones, and it forces him to take a couple of steps back. “  ow, dude— what the fuck? ” he stares back at the perpetuator, then promptly stops breathing altogether. it's not him, it can't be, because he's on the other side of the ocean right now. it wouldn't be the first time he hallucinated the same face in front of him, but none of his daydreams ever made him look so bewildered. thoughts are a jumbled mess of complex emotions, somehow still managing to realize how handsome henry looks under dim light. alex kind of wants to double over and press a hand against his chest, certain he's going through a heart attack from the sudden pain, although it might be the anxiety too, there's no way of knowing. “  why are you here? ” it sounds like he just found the prince rummaging around his private room instead of a random new york club, because it feels like a violation of their unspoken agreement: they both stayed far away from each other, in their respective countries.

[lovekindled-a]

nawt making any promises but i might be around my percy blog once i watch the show

[wr1tten]

continued from here.

never   had   she   ever   wanted   anyone   to   get   hurt.     surely   not   by   her   own   hand.     but   mistakes   had   been   made  —  billy   broke   her   heart   one   too   many   times,     and   she   needed   to   get   a   fraction   of   it   back.     @lovekindled wasn’t   the   mistake,     the   lack   of   consideration   for   his   feelings   was.     standing   in   front   of   him,     her   heart   was   being   torn   apart.     camila   had   come   to   understand   the   effect   daisy   jones   had   on   billy,     the   wandering   eyes,     the   wanting   both,     having   to   deny   oneself.     she   needed   to   let   him   go,     but   she   didn’t   want   to   lose   him.     her   gaze   on   the   floor;     guilty.      ❝ i   wouldn’t   blame   you   if   you   did.     i   was   selfish…     i   just, ❞       a   deep   breath   sucked   in.     just   what?     wanted   to   be   seen,     desired,     cherished?     it   felt   good   to   be   the   only   person   someone   saw.     an   explanation   wouldn’t   make   it   better.     she   played   with   his   heart   just   like   billy   had   with   hers   time   and   time   again.     then   eddie   was   pulling   away,     and   her   hand   snatched   his   wrist,     holding   him   where   he   was.     camila   didn’t   want   to   watch   him   leave.       ❝ i   don’t   want   it   to   be   like   this.     i   don’t   want   you   running   away   from   me   whenever   i’m   around, ❞       a   sad   chuckle,     throat   coated,     eyes   pooling,       ❝ you’ve   been   one   of   the   most   important   people   to   me   since   grade   school,     eddie.     i   can’t- ❞       the   drips   rolled   down   her   cheeks,     voice   shaking,       ❝ i   can’t   go   around   like   we’re   strangers. ❞

[lovekindled-a]

“  well, i don't. ” his feelings for her were unwavering, survived each disappointment and rejection with ease. perhaps it had been easier before, only watching from afar and dreaming about could but would never be. to dream of her touch and fantasize about what it would feel like for camila to love him back, nothing more than wishful thinking. the illusion becoming a reality had ignited a sense of hope inside him that he never thought possible, something that dissipated just as quickly. it had been easier because eddie didn't know that her actual touch felt a thousand times better, that having her close was the only time his life ever made sense. still, if one night together was everything she ever gave him, it was more than enough. more than he probably deserved.

it's overwhelming, how much he loves her, how much it hurts to know that she'll never love him back. her touch scorches, and he has to fight the urge to break free from her grasp. panic seizes him, because he can feel his own throat closing up, each concealed emotion threatening to resurface, and selfishly, he didn't want her to see how pathetic he actually was. “  cami. ” voice is hoarse from the effort of keeping his own emotions at bay, from watching her tears fall silently and knowing they're his fault. a gentle hand is pressed against her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears. “  of course not. you never have to worry about that. ” he means every word. “  i'll be in your life as long as you'll have me, camila. i promise. ”

[luckbabe]

he is angry too. he feels so often, but it is rare that he allows it to rise to the surface. vexation seeps into his words, not far from alex's minor outburst. because knowing alex, henry knows it is not in his nature to be this demure. “ then, please do me the same courtesy. ” two fingers rub his temples, frustrated syllables retort in frustration. they are speaking in different languages, but henry cannot tell if alex is set on misunderstanding him or if he really is that blind. “ perhaps we’re both making assumptions, ” he sighs, impossibly tired. “ but what you’re asking tells me you don’t truly know me, alex. ” it becomes clear that alex has imagined an idyllic version of him that henry cannot live up to, not because he does not want to become what he wishes for him to be, but because he cannot. the gap between reality and the ideal is too broad, a sharp ledge with a steep fall. even if he were to try, he’d crash and burn. the prince had exchanged his freedom for a semblance of safety. in his gilded prison, he is alone, but he can endure it. numb survival may seem insufficient for a claremont-díaz, with a last name that bound them to an unconditional support system. henry’s family is an institution of firm crystal, a choice he did not make but cannot ever deny. he wishes he could disappear within its walls, but his outline can always be made out from behind the glass.

he knows alex doesn’t mean to hurt him, but he does. it’s only fair, after all that's occurred. the words hang in the air between them, heavy in their well-wishes but received as an ill-intended blow. his entire life he has carried it, the birthright turned burden. finding someone who redefines all he knows is far from what he wants for himself. “ it’s not a question of whether i love you or not. if i could — ” he’d spoken of their own terms, of sacrifice. henry does not want to fight his own cause to end up in the same in a comfortable enclosure. even after an exchange of currency, a token is still a token.

his head gives into a worn-out nod, alex is right. they will unfortunately continue to see each other in events like this. henry can only pray the sting of witnessing his life without him will pass, or more likely that he will get used to the pain. “ yes, we should get back. we’ve been gone too long. ” they cannot risk suspicion. the last thing either of them need is to get roped into another public relations solution. space will do them good. though, the atlantic ocean does not seem like enough distance when he knows alex will be sitting miserably on the opposite end. he will be too, the crack in his armor is both person and place, and he has grown used to the thumping of his beating chest. though he might not regret it, he will certainly miss its thrilling rhythm. if there were to be one person worth risking everything for, it would be the beautiful peasant boy. but that was fiction, and this is goodbye. “ it would be you. ” he does not get a forever with someone, he's spoken for. the looming reality awaits in the next room, henry puts it off no longer with a final nod, vowing his head, for once.

[lovekindled-a]

rationality tells him the prince isn't aiming to hurt him further, to prod with his fingers until there wasn't a single bone in his body that wasn't aching. except every time he speaks, his words slam against his heart as if they were in a battlefield. he wonders if perhaps he's doing the same, trading bullet for words designed to weaken him. it's reminiscent of their past and alex hates to think that he ever hurt henry, that he could continue to hurt him even then. “ okay, henry. ” he says instead, exhausted by their back and forth. a lot of people would describe him as argumentative and relentless, unable to take no for an answer. it's ironic that the only argument he doesn't want to lose seems destined for failure since the first words were traded between them. “ maybe i don't actually know you. ” alex concedes against his better judgement. how can he not know henry, when he's devoted hours of his life to getting to know each crevice and every curve? when he's memorized each written word, as if it were the only thing that could help him make sense of life itself? alex doesn't only know him, he worships henry the same way a devout person worships their god. but he can't say that. “ you can't put that on me, though. ”

if this is his last opportunity to pour his entire heart out, he might as well take it. “ you hide parts of yourself when you think they're not convenient for the people around you. ” something that alex could understand, even as unapologetic as he was. at least henry was right: not everyone deserved him completely, not the people who would take a look at him and force him back into the perfect mold of a prince. “ and it drives me insane because there's so much of you. ” everything about henry fox was a miracle, and miracles deserved to be admired. it didn't seem fair to keep him locked away, to make him believe there was no other choice but to stay there. clearly, alex wasn't made to be the knight in shining armor, because his attempt at trying to rescue him was failing miserably. “ and maybe i didn't get to know you completely, but i still love you. i would love each version of you in every universe. ” there's no doubt in his mind of that. hopeless romantic or not, his life had been made better by having the prince in it. if it wasn't for that shared kiss on new years, alex would've continued to live his life completely oblivious of his hidden depths, and for that he would be forever grateful.

the first son smiles sadly at the prince of wales, heart aching too much for a flicker of hope to ignite the fire inside him. if i could, he says, as if he isn't being presented with the opportunity in that exact moment. numbness starts to make its way throughout his body, overtaking the underlaying constant pain. what else are you supposed to feel when you're losing the love of your life, for a second time? it's like his body knows he can't take the suffering once more, and it's trying to help him survive until he can wrap himself around the blankets of his hotel room and allow the tears to fall. if only they could wash away the burning sensation of henry's touch all over his body, then perhaps it would be easier for him to move on. alex tries helplessly to say something back, to seize the last word, but for once there's no argument waiting to slip between his lips. instead, he focuses his energy of making himself presentable for the crowd of leaders and politicians waiting on the other side of the room, his trembling hands smoothing own suit, biting the inside of his cheek in an effort to stay grounded to reality.

[lovekindled-a]

anyways now that thg is trending again friendly reminder that i have madge.... and she has a district 13 verse......

[loveletters2myself]

source? it was revealed during my nature walk.

[luckbabe]

best laid plans, henry does not necessarily bode well with the unexpected. a cosmic joke binds the two of them together, as alex once often seemed to leave him guessing. now, it is spelled out. his intentions were moot. a futile experiment of distance instead resulted in pain for both parties involved. the prince refuses to believe it is as dire as the first son indicates. henry has to believe alex is not beyond saving. his conscience demands it, but so does his logical sense. granted, alex can infer a lot from his silence. sentiments henry carefully decides not to speak because they’d reveal too much. then, it would ultimately be too late. though it physically aches him, he catches himself flinching at yet another declaration of love. the months separating alex’s initial admission and these did little to prepare him, henry remains unequipped and unsure of how many more i love you's he could manage before he loses his head entirely. he deliberately does not confess he loves him back, not because he ever stopped feeling as if his heart belonged entirely to the man, but because he worries it would be used against him. against them.

at what point had they become adversaries on opposing sides of the ring? henry stands across the street, hose in hand, trying to put out a fire he’d set himself. his head shakes ever so slightly, a quirk to his lip ready to discredit alex’s bases. they’d be sound if he weren’t so fearful. henry clambers to differentiate the details of what they disagree on. and yet, for better or for worse, henry has commited him to memory. he has learned alexander claremont-díaz has never half-assed anything in his life. he is infuriating and prone to exaggeration. henry knows alex’s passion can lead to blind-spots and resolutely considers this to be one of those cases. “ i’m sure you think you mean that. ”  all of it. alex’s expression of unwavering devotion, his hope for a better outcome, to come out victorious and content, they come from a place of naiveté. alexander makes the perfect ingenue. henry’s words are meant to be sympathetic, stretched into a lower key that echoes pity. he tries to be understanding, but there’s so much that he’s kept hidden away, out of reach.

it’s safer like this: in their stiff statures, the air between them catching static. he would learn to drown out the noise, the dull the brimming desire to pull him near. a glance is cast in all four directions before he attempts to explain himself, and most importantly, convince alex. he’s been given a head start, he thinks: he’s not easy to love, after all.  “ you are not seeing the big picture. i know it may be difficult to hear considering you tend to believe you know better... ”  an ache settles in his stomach, dreading letting him down once more. yet it must be done, seeing as alex’s notions are so horrifically mistaken. theirs wasn’t the kind of thing one could just work out. there was no room for negotiation. the public sphere was black and white cinemascopes; their shared moments had been live in living technicolor.  “ there’s nothing to make work, alex. there is no better. there is just this. ”  a lethargic hand gestures at the distance between alex’s chest and his own, donned in their finest but not preferred attire, as it should be. he can’t really look away from alex’s face, though. not when it is contorted into a longing expression. the plea in his brow makes way for softness in henry too. head cants as his spine gives way to genuine concern. “ you deserve better than nothing. and since that is all i'm offering, i implore you to make use of your choices. not all of us have them. ”

[lovekindled-a]

“ don't patronize me. ” it comes out harsher than he's expecting, eyebrows furrowing together. there's been many instances where alex has been talked down to, gaslighted into believing he doesn't actually know better. experiences only increased with his newfound prominence in the politics world, resentment settling into his bones every time someone belittled him. none of them hurt as much as henry's blatant disregard for his feelings. “ you can lie to yourself all you want, but don't pretend to know how i feel. ” it's insulting, infuriating, and it reminds him of a time where he despised the prince and everything he represented. he wouldn't risk it all for someone that didn't mean everything to him. alexander might be passionate, but he isn't fucking stupid. if henry wasn't worth it, then he wouldn't be standing in front of him, asking him to have the courage to love him back. he can understand, though, the need to have some semblance of control. the crown yielded so little of it, it was no wonder henry fought to regain the most insignificant ounce of it. it was a mournful sight to behold.

“ before we... before texas, my mom asked me if i feel forever about you. ” there's no real reason to be telling him this, not when his decision appears to be cemented. alex has given up the hope of changing his mind, has realized it is nothing but a fruitless attempt. the only certainty is that there is no future where they can be together, not as far as either of them can see. “ it took me a while to realize it, but i did. i do. ” even now, after every rejection, he can't imagine ever getting over henry. the prince of wales came crashing into his life, cake and all, and changed everything for the better. he ignited a fire inside of alex and no matter how much it flickered, he knew it would never die out. “ i might not be that for you. maybe i'm simply not worth fighting for, or you don't love me enough. or at all. that's fine. ” that was something he could live with. the youngest claremont-díaz had been dreading this day ever since he could remember: when his fear of not being good enough would undeniably come to life. of course, he wasn't expecting his worst fear to materialize itself with such high stakes, yet there was no way of escaping it. it was coming eventually, he'd always known as much. “ but i hope that you find that... something, or someone, that makes you realize you are so much more than nothing. that you deserve more than what they've given you. because you do. ”

if anything, alex could see this for what it was: closure. the night at the lake house had left him heartbroken and confused, searching for answers in the dark. henry had now offered him a glimpse of his own reasoning, and he didn't have to devote his time to understanding the thunderstorm that had brought havoc on their relationship. he wasn't under the illusion that this was something easy to get over, that it wouldn't continue to haunt every waking moment and each sleepless night, though at least the wondering wouldn't consume him from the inside out anymore. a step in the right direction until he could go back to feeling like he was whole, even if deep down he knew there was a part of him that had been ripped out and there was no way he could ever retrieve it. alexander takes a last steadying breath, and while he knows there's nothing left to say, he's gotten used to giving henry more than he ever asked for. “ i guess i'll see you around. ”

[lovekindled-a]

i just got accepted into a masters program in australia!!!!

[luckbabe]

“ it does matter. ”  he cares so much he could combust. it is the very reason he’d prolonged ending their dalliance. henry had known from the start that nothing good could’ve come of it, and still he’d kissed alex at new year’s, expressing all he could not dare to spell out. their little arrangement of convenient, stolen moments had always been doomed. though in the back of his mind, henry had been bracing himself for the collapse, silently awaiting the fateful moment it would all crash and burn, but he’d not considered that alex might’ve needed the warning too. he’d never been hopeful enough to expect alex might fall for him too. he cares, but he has nothing of note without the crown. he’d let alex in enough for him to realize that, but perhaps he should’ve known better than to pretend he ever knew what alex’s next move was going to be. his brilliant, astounding, outrageous lover; that was never his to begin with.

his brow knit together, rejecting the impulse to reach out. it was worse than he feared. alex’s initial words indicated that he might be cross with him, henry could feel himself settling into what he expected to be his new reality, only to have it quickly redefined. alex was also hurt. while he’d known it, seen it back at the lakehouse, it’s an entirely different thing to revisit the emotions, live and in the flesh. part of him, the most earnest with his secret passion for words of classic romance, wishes to reveal himself, to also admit alex’s absence in his life has come hand in hand with the grimmest of dispositions. as though his existence had been bookmarked, and everything will thus be understood as the epilogue of a bright, short-lived tale. an anxious hand runs through his hair, disheveling strands that had been so carefully arranged while he mulled over the night’s events. with both of them upset, how could he have miscalculated this erroneously? now, he evaluates just how much he can confess without damning both of them to more of this hell. 

“ of course i miss you, alex, ”  is not a great starting point, especially when uttered on an inhale, with such defeat that it bordered on shame. “ –– miss it. ” he scrambles to dismiss his original sentiment, but does not take it back. he cannot let alex shed any more tears thinking they'd meant nothing. henry must simply double-down on pretending alex did not mean everything to him. “ but that’s precisely why it was best to put a stop to it, to us. ” he steps closer, slowly as if eager to find a balance between strength and coming across as non-threatening. his explanation comes in conspiratorial whispers, and the tone he uses when he is trying to make sense of things aloud, usually without an audience. and yet, he stares at the wall behind him, not at alex. “ neither of us can afford to have our feelings involved. ” the claremont-diaz were on the road to reelection. alex has carefully thought-out plans, timely dreams of senate seats, reforms and making a genuine difference. henry has what’s left of his measly lifetime to continue being the prince of wales. there is too much on the line, it is not just a matter of the two of them. he smiles sadly, arms pinned to his side, finding reassurance in the certainty that the jarring sensation of his heart breaking will be worth it. “ be honest with yourself. we both know nothing good could come of it. ”

[lovekindled-a]

does it? hearing it is one thing, but he has been on the other side of henry's indifference for months already, and the reluctance to believe him stands firm in its place. the assumption that the prince simply did not care enough about him was believable enough, particularly after their last night at the lake house. alex's love confession had been the perfect opportunity to finish their impromptu affair, a much needed cop-out. the theory distinctly clashed with memories of fond smiles and warm embraces, nevertheless it became a necessary tale to soothe his aching heart at times. the opposing possibility was too upsetting to even consider: that henry did love him back, but it simply wasn't enough. their very own shakespearean tragedy, except alexander refuse to give up fighting for a happy ending. didn't they deserve that, after everything?

a sigh escapes his lips without permission, the air leaving his body as his entire reality rearranges itself. henry misses him. avoidance wasn't born out of disinterest, perhaps from own insecurities and doubts, but alex could work with that. he fights the urge to take a step back, cautious from the man that broke his heart. the urge to throw himself at him is almost as pressing, the need for contact between their bodies as urgent as ever. instead, alexander stays put in place, attentive but weary of him. “ it's too fucking late for that. ” his feelings were already involved, had been for a long time. it took him a while to realize them, to put a name to the sensation, but alex had been loving henry for quite a long time now. he was irrevocably, purposefully in love with him. “ i already told you, you obtuse fucking asshole. ” though it was worth repeating, if only to try and make henry listen to him for once. “ i love you. you don't make it easy, i swear, but i'm in love with you. okay? ” the only sound following his confession is his own ragged breath, the force of it making him take a few steps back. they were in public, anyone could hear, and alex couldn't care less. he'd scream the same three words at the top of his lungs if it meant getting the message delivered.

henry might not dare to look at him, yet own eyes were trained on his face. as beautiful as ever, each emotion carefully concealed from plain sight. if alex didn't knew his tells already, the way he swallows, the way the muscle of his jaw twitches, he would assume he was speaking to a statue. “ something good already came out of it, h. ” words are softer now, eyebrows furrowing in a pleading way. he was utterly exhausted of having to fight him on this, on hoping to make him realize how powerful their connection was. in the end, the choice was on his hands, alex had already made up his mind. “ it doesn't have to be like this. we could find a way to make this work, to love each other in our own terms. ” maybe he was being senselessly hopeful, after all blind optimism could be dangerous. if anything, there was one thing he would never doubt: if henry wanted him back, he would spend the rest of his life fighting to be by his side. “ this isn't... you're miserable like this. don't you think you deserve better? ” a shaky breath is taken, shoulders slumping in front of him. he'd bared his entire soul, all that was left to do now was wait for henry to make a decision.

[luckbabe]

he paces back and forth. the shift of his weight on the heels of his feet helps him concentrate on something trivial, meaningless in the midst of so much subtext. the sound of his thoughts is louder than his soles. he didn’t think he’d ever get to hear one of alex’s imprudent jokes ever again. it’s a new form of torture, a harsh reminder dangled before him, just barely out of reach. he cannot laugh, nor would he want to. instead, he sits idly in a cell of his own making, except the prison is made of iron-cast stone from dynasties before, built on tragedies that pale in comparison to his. still, the question gives him pause. he comes to a halt, in sync with the hitching of his breath. sweaty palms rub together, his knuckle nudging the ring on his finger. how dare he read into his demeanor? while alex might not know the full picture, he is well acquainted with the frailest part of him. it feels duplicitous to abuse the intimacy once shared. he closes off, his reply abrupt albeit a little resentful. “ i’m fine. ”

he is perfectly capable of seeing the charade through. or at least he will be, which seems like a practicality not worth noting. it’s becoming the theme of the night, lying to him. spine straightens, chin rises. “ you are right, that was unprofessional of me. i apologize. ” insincere, but poignant. he is sorry for much, but not for keeping him away. at the end of the day, it’s not up to henry. nothing is. that is precisely the bane of his desolate existence. “ i – er – we haven’t discussed it. ” opting for pragmatism, henry hides behind the minute details that must be fleshed out for the sake of impressions, rather than those he needs to sort privately. he can almost make out a sense of calm approaching behind the stormy horizon, they’ve been through this before. he can be perfectly civil, if it means getting their stories straight. “ if we are expected to continue appearing as friends, there ought to be a reason for such a prolonged separation. ” he hadn’t tried to contact alex, it hangs in the air. there is indeed much left unsaid, but it is an active decision to withhold the extent of his affection.

he does not mean to ask. henry intended to seek out clues to assess the damage done, but he has to know. it spills over, out of him like an untidy suitcase. if alex hated him for breaking his heart, henry could live with it. a chapter closed, back to square one. he would move on, perhaps he already had, upon his self-discovery. henry could even be happy for him, for sparing himself of the curse, a fable titled being in love the tragic prince of wales. where does that leave him? to have loved him from afar, then to know him from up close. he’d stay in limbo happily. his resolute devotion is best kept under lock and key. however, if alex’s heartache carried on, it’d be confirmation that henry was a contemptible creature that ought to never get close to anyone else ever again. not that he’d ever want to. from alex’s unsteady voice as indication, he will hate himself for inquiring in hushed tones, neck hanging lower as if speaking to an accomplice. “ how are you, alex? ”

[lovekindled-a]

henry might be standing in front of him, but there's no trace of the person he fell in love with months ago. his words sound hollow and devoid of any emotion, a marionette manipulated by royal decree. it's disappointing to know how much henry hates having to portray this version of himself, hurtful to think about all the implications of forcing himself back inside the golden cage. alex used to hate him for how well he played the part, now every fracture in the mask comes to light with startling willingness. “ i suppose it's hard to discuss anything when you keep ignoring me. ” but he's over that, really. he hasn't tried contacting henry in weeks, even if he hasn't been able to delete his number yet. “ god, henry, i don't care about that. about them. ” if the entire world thought they were friends or not, if their facade was believable enough for their hungry eyes. his emotions were real, the ache in his bones was tangible. “ i care about us. ” the realization that there's no them anymore hits him straight in the chest, leaves him breathless. it's the night at the lake house all over again: alex, pleading and pathetic; henry, stoic and unfeeling.

“ fuck, it's like— like i'm talking to you but you're not even there. ” if it only were that easy for him to pretend. then he wouldn't be picking up pieces of himself in the corridor of a fancy building, mere meters away from world leaders and important people. alex was his mother's biggest supporter, but no amount of good press is worth reliving this pain over and over again. he thought he would be able to behave, but the prince had always been good at helping him comprehend his hidden depths. there's no universe where alexander claremont-díaz can stand in front of henry fox-mountchristen-windsor and leave untouched by his presence. fingertips ghost over his cheekbone, treasonous tears falling without his permission or knowledge. he harshly wipes them with the back of his hand, feeling betrayed by his own body and heart once more.

there's no way he can go back inside looking like this, emotionally wrecked and with tear-stained cheeks. a couple of steadying breaths are taken, utterly convinced that the slightest taste of real emotion will render the conversation useless for henry. which is why he's not expecting the question, and he wonders briefly if it's a product of his imagination, or wishful thinking. “ i'm... how do you think i am, h? ” despite the surface bitterness, his words come filled with anguish. he supposes that henry can handle the truth, otherwise he wouldn't have asked, therefore alex doesn't shy away from it. “ i fucking miss you. ” it's overwhelming, the feeling of emptiness that follows him from the moment he wakes up to the moment he falls asleep. it's always there, lingering in the back of his mind. “ not that you care or that it matters, but i do. ” he adds sourly, an important reminder. one that he continues to drill into his brain, hoping that one day it'll stay.

[luckbabe]

he'd tried to get out of it: silently scoured for alternative plans, even considered feigning illness, in order to have a legitimate alibi to provide in lieu of his attendance. removing himself from difficult situations appears to be his preferred method of self-preservation. alas, his duties always come first. he’d known from the moment the social engagement was included in his agenda. pez’s charities, though far from minuscule, were no match for a soirée with world leaders. the palace had no reason to excuse him, and henry was not about to reveal what he’s kept hidden his entire life. it’d do no good, he suspects. he knows the values they are meant to uphold. were the crown to find out about his ill-advised entanglement with america’s most eligible, decidedly-male and seemingly-straight bachelor, henry would still be rooted in the same spot, sporting the same greyscale outfit, waiting for a different shoe to drop.

to say he has privately stressed about reuniting with alex is an understatement. time and space are all good and dandy replacements for closure until they are ripped from his hands, like a ratty security blanket. henry has talked himself from the ledge more times than he can count, only to immediately grow anxious about hypotheticals once again. mentally, he’s revised every possible scenario. it helped, he thinks. his heart does not fall out of his chest when actual living, breathing alex, and not the ghost from his imagination is in front of him. “ alex... ” the hoarse utterance could be interpreted as a greeting, rather than the suppression of a gutpunch. his title sounds foreign from the first son’s mouth. he hides his disappointment, as he really isn’t entitled to it. though he desperately wants to, he does not stare at the mouth that has called him by many names both in fondness and taunt. he has no right to do that, either.

with their hand joined clinically, but evocative of early days of their rivarly-turned-friendship, henry accepts alex’s prompting, playing a part he’s played a million times before. the performer in him nods, smiles for the pictures, and responds: “ it's good to see you, my friend. ” regrets imminently follows his words. salt in a wound, a sentiment that might hurt both of them equally. except he has no way of knowing. he looks at alex because he has to. he wishes for the eternal moment to be ever with every fiber of his being. had he been too cruel? was alex back to hating him? before henry can find an answer in the face he fancied for years, alex retreats. the prince can breathe again. except alex looks back, and henry is a deer in the headlights, his faux gleeful expression almost entirely faded, his lips beginning to quiver. it’s nothing like he imagined. and it’s too much. too much. he clears his throat, and offers his apologies to those in close vicinity, including the cause of his lament. “ will you excuse me for a minute? ” expensive shoes carry him past and across the room, a hurried pace that grazes alex’s shoulder and ultimately determines that was all the contact with the other that he can handle without losing his sanity.

[lovekindled-a]

alexander still isn't sure what he was expecting, but this is somehow impossibly worse than anything he'd ever imagined. the hope that he could stand this close to henry and behave normally is laughable now, as ridiculous as the notion of eventually overcoming their breakup. there's no doubt in his mind now that he will never get over him, that he'll have to continue living his life carrying around a henry-shaped hole in his heart. hearing his own name, the same word that had once been pressed lovingly into his skin, whispered reverently between kisses and hushed confessions, makes every muscle in his body tense. emotions are resurfacing and he doesn't know what to do with any of it, where to put the anger and the sadness, but most importantly, where to put all the love he has for henry now that he doesn't want it. does he even want to get rid of it? it might've meant a burden for a prince to bear, but for him it was a blessing.

it's good to see you, my friend. a few months ago, the words would've made him laugh incredulously. some time before that, it would've made him burst into tears or perhaps explode in anger. now, there's not much he can do aside from swallowing around the lump in his throat and stare back at him helplessly. the first words they exchange in months and it's a blatant lie. alex can tell that he's as shaken by the interaction as him, and the most vindictive side of himself thinks good, yet it's quickly overpowered by regret and concern. he blinks and watches henry leave, awfully reminiscent of their last night together. foolish enough not to remind himself that it's not his place to feel responsible for henry's mood change, he's hurrying behind the man before he can truly think it through. it wouldn't be the first time he throws himself off a cliff without thinking, driven only by hope. he follows the prince outside of the room and prays to find him alone. perhaps a masochist decision, fueled by the knowledge that they might not get another chance to talk. henry may be able to move on like it's easy; alex was never able to simply let go, not of his grudges and certainly not of his love.

“ i can see why y'all had to marry your fucking cousins. ” it's meant to be a joke, yet as it bounces off the walls of the thankfully empty and spacious hallway, alex can tell it falls short. he clears his throat and tries again, the unexpected burst of courage making him take a step closer. “ you okay? ” it's a stupid question, because there's not an inch of henry he isn't familiar with, and his body language speaks for itself. a sudden surge of resentment overcomes him, a reminder that he should be the one barely holding it together after facing the man that broke his heart. “ just— jesus. i know that if it were up to you we'd never see each other again, but can we at least be civil? ” they were still, after all, the first son of the united states and the prince of wales. they would continue to hold these titles, and if not, the renown of having once been part of two of the most important families in the world. “ i'm really fucking trying here, h. ” if his voice wavers in the middle of the sentence, he doesn't acknowledge it.

[lovekindled-a]

indefinite hiatus notice. i keep saying i'm coming back and then i never do so i'm making this post for my own peace of mind. i'll come back once i feel like writing which hasn't happened yet :( as always you can find me on discord.

[kusattainuarc]

Ways you can Support Palestine :

please note this is absolutely not an all-encompassing list, and to constantly check the status of aid or groups in how able they are to help Palestinian people at that moment; stay informed, stay current, listen to, uplift, and share Palestinian voices, and don't stay silent.

DO NOT TAG AS CURRENT EVENTS OR POLITICS TW/CW.

important information / helpful links

Decolonize Palestine

A Simple Guide to what's happening, by Al Jazeera

US Campaign for Palestinian Rights

For US Citizens: USCPR - Ceasefire Now

For US Citizens: Action Network - Ceasefire Now - a video explaining how to use the site

For European Citizens: Voices in Europe for Peace - how to contact your country's representatives

Palestinian Speculative Fiction Reading List

Jewish Voice for Peace - a Jewish, anti-zio/nist organization

how to donate

Palestine Children's Relief Fund (PCRF) - NOTE: donations to the PCRF will be matched by my friend's university's Arab society; send an ask or IM to @kusattainu with proof that you've donated and the amount!

Palestine Red Crescent Society (PRCS)

American Near East Refugee Aid (Anera)

US Campaign for Palestinian Rights (USCPR)

Arab.org - a free, daily click-to-donate site that works with UNRWA - Make sure to turn off adblocker for the site before you click, as money donated is filtered through ad revenue

Doctors Without Borders

Islamic Relief USA (IRUSA)

United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA)

how to know what to boycott and who not to support - NOTE: the most important companies to boycott are the ones named by The BDS Movement, because that is the strength of a targeted boycott. other companies listed in other links are to help keep you aware of how deeply anti-Palestinian sentiment runs and what companies to be mindful of.

The BDS Movement - important thread about targeted boycotting

Boycott is/rael products list (2023, from adda247)

List of Companies that Posted Statements Supporting is/rael (gdoc, copied & pasted from som.yale.edu so as to not provide site traffic; doc will be updated as original site is updated- check gdoc timestamp)

[infernocte]

THE SILENCE STRETCHES BETWEEN THEM LIKE THE STRINGS OF A VIOLIN: the anticipation, the tension and the expectation.    nothing good is going to happen that night,    they both know.     andrew and kevin are lurking around them like second shadows after the whole shitshow that took place earlier,    but they could not comprehend the ease they fell into.    how bianca's fingers fix his tie for him and how kevin leans down to let her,    unspoken rules still as ancient and as serious as it could be between them.

[ laces ]  your muse lacing , tying , or zipping something for mine , such as shoes , a dress , or a jacket , etc .

“ you can be mad at me as much as you want, ”     she mumbles, eyes fixated on the beautiful knot, hands dusting off @lovekindled's shoulders.    “ and i can want to gut you in your sleep as much as i want. ”     and she doesn't say it lightly. they bring out the worst and the best of each other.     she doesn't know if it is the product of riko's hellish and sick management or if it is what they were always meant to be.     “ but it doesn't change the fact that there is no one else like us. evermore, us court, trojans... it doesn't matter. we are the court. don't forget that. ”

[lovekindled-a]

green gaze barely touches her, eyes trained towards the ceiling of the room. despite seemingly belligerent behavior, the unspoken agreement between them forces him to stay quiet as bianca invades his personal space to help him with his tie. rigid shoulders and jaw tic seem to indicate uneasiness at the closeness between their bodies, yet it paradoxically starts to dissipates when he hears her voice. the rigidness is still there, but features soften slightly, perhaps an unshakable habit from their time together in the nest.

“ how could i? ” a humorless smile, almost condescending. it's a fair question: there hasn't been a moment in kevin's adult life where exy hasn't been the number one priority. every decision, every breath is taken towards the same goal. if that wasn't enough, another reminder sits on his skin, visible every time he looks at his own reflection. he allows himself to look back at her for a second, before it becomes too much. “ it's not like anyone would let me forget. ” and kevin wouldn't want to forget. him and bianca are similar in that way.