𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔 • ᴛᴀᴇᴋᴏᴏᴋ

𝐗𝐗𝐈. Dancing On Fire

To have their skins burning against each other was everything they needed in the moment, soft breaths playing against each other's skin as they closed the distance to clasp against each other and lay down comfortably in a silence.

They were a bit tired yet cooled down from their highs, the writer on his back with the prince laying his head on his chest, the long fingers of the writer brushing the prince's hair, letting him find peace while listening to the writer's heartbeat.

They had a crazy and passionate session, no skin was untouched or unkissed, no unholy word that couldn't leave their mouth and surely no count of the time they tried to keep their noises to themselves but the beautiful mess was worth it.

It was all worth it.

They didn't care about closing the casement, let the silk drapes flatter by the wind entering them. It was getting a bit colder in the night but since they were getting each other's heat under the blanket it was more than enough.

None of them dared speak a word, none of them dared break the connection, rather they just held each other close like that while they thought about their future whereabouts.

"I'll write you a letter as soon as I get there. Before that, I'll try to meet your brother on my way back." The writer whispered after a while and the prince lifted his head up to see his face.

"Tell him that I love him so much." The prince whispered and the writer smiled and gave a nod, letting his hand find a way to brush his free hair and tuck them behind his ear.

"Say everything to me that you want me to tell him." The writer then whispered playfully, bringing his head up as well to bring it closer to the prince so that their lips were barely apart.

The prince grinned, well aware of his cheeky tactics.

"Tell him I love him." The prince whispered simply and tried to sit up but the writer pulled him by his arm, not letting him have any choice but to fall right into him.

"Say nicely, what do you want me to tell him?"

The writer demanded, the slight dominance evident in his voice which was giving the prince flashbacks of their earlier session.

"I love you so much." The prince whispered nevertheless.

"Louder." The writer demanded, pulling the prince closer, their lips almost on top of each other.

"I. Love. You. So. Much." The prince whispered, more pressurizing on his word than before and the writer smiled happily, letting his lips be pressed against the prince's.

Full of love and adoration, that peck was the sweetest for the prince which almost melted him into a pit of the writer's arms.

They let the silence surround them again, staring at each other as they played with each other's features until the prince decided on something.

"Would you... accept my command of dancing?" The prince asked a bit hesitantly and the writer raised his eyebrows as he questioned.

"What command, your highness?" The writer asked playfully.

"Dance with me." The prince demanded as he sat back, looking down at the confused writer who was lifting his head and neck up by the support of his elbows.

"Dance?"

"Yes, I want to dance with you, like we did when we first met." The prince demanded cutely.

"We met at a ball? And so we had to dance? But now?" The writer said as if he was questioning, already earning a pout from the little prince.