gwenllicn:
it’s an intoxication sweeter than cheery wine, one that leaves her cheeks rosy and her head spinning better than any champagne ever could. this was her addiction — the spanish prince, the drawn out nature of their relationship. it was a wonder that gwenllian hadn’t let it completely consume her. that even now, with his body pressed so close against her own, with their heartbeats like war drums thumping in time to each other, she was capable of showing restraint. of not closing the little distance left between them and pressing her full lips against his own and kissing him senseless. and yet even in their ploy to take things slow, the princess couldn’t help but feel as if the idea had backfired in some significant way. not kissing, not touching him in all the ways she’d found herself dreaming about — it hadn’t done anything to stop herself from being so completely captivated. the mere sight of sebastian, whether it be a hint of that smile or the crinkle at the corners of his eyes whenever he laughed, still held the ability to knock the breath out of her. his presence in a crowded room still managed to undo her in all the ways his close proximity was undoing her now. it hadn’t mattered that gwen hadn’t jumped in because that pull, that spark, was still the strongest she had ever known. nothing existed but this. the warmth of his body against her own, the brush of his hair against her finger tips, the buttery blanket of his laugh. not the cameras or the millions of people watching, not the ten other monarchs roaming among them. it was the most dangerous sensation and yet the seraphic girl welcomed it with open arms, enamored by it’s siren lull. when he taps her nose she tilts her chin up, pretending as if she was trying to bite his finger. it’s an action that elicits a giggle, the apples of her cheeks rose tinted under the weight of his gaze. “ i’m afraid that’s impossible. ” she mummers in response, her tone breathless, still overwhelmed by how close they were standing and the temptation of his mouth close enough to taste. her hands slide back down against his chest, as if that was enough to keep her from flinging herself completely into the depths of her own desire. “ and besides, ” it’s a tentative peak through the thick fan of her lashes, as if sebastian was the sun and she was afraid of looking at him for too long in fear of burning. in fear of what those hazel eyes could make her do. “ i think you’re the one who should be wearing the warning label. ” she concludes, slender fingers crossing an ex over his heart.
any position involving the spaniard and the object of his affections, was one of immense danger. whether the distance between their bodies could be measured in feet or mere inches; regardless of being on opposite sides of an over flowing ballroom, royals of all sorts closing in on all sides or just the two of them enclosed in blissful privacy, letting their thundering hearts and wild eyes craft sweeter poetry then even the most skilled tongues. the connection stretching between them is a visceral thing, something so inexplicably bone deep that no quantitative measure of distance or time seems to matter. his hand covers hers, capturing her fingers and stilling her movements until her palm was pressed flat enough to count the beats of his heart. he offers her a small shake of his head, grasping at the words to encompass exactly what that look does to him. “those eyes. what did i say about those eyes.” he forces his gaze towards the ornate ceiling lingering high above them, pinning his focus on the intricate detailing inscribed - the soft swirls and swoops and spirals all twisting and merging together into one endless array of shapes. it’s a thing of beauty, the castle ceiling, the delicate artistry stunning enough to bring tears to the eyes of even the most cold hearted. it’s truly a work of art and it seems to have all but no effect of him, not like gwen does. he inhales steadily, pushing each breath in and out, searching for some semblance of control. the truth? he’s felt off balance from the moment the blonde princess waltzed into his life. his world forever tilted on it’s axis, leaving him struggling to regain the sure-footedness he once had. it’s as though he’s constantly teetering on the verge of something great, like he can taste the possibilities crackling on the tip of his tongue; if only he dared. “if we’re not careful, neither of us will make it out of this alive. how are we supposed to get that big castle we always talked about then?”














