~CHARLES~

Levi's lips were soft as they pressed onto mine. I didn't move—I was frozen. I didn't know what to do. I knew that if I kissed him back, it would be wrong in so many ways. First off, he's a guy. Second, I'd just met him tonight.

Yet his lips against mine felt so right.

A battle took place in my head; the urge to push him off and the urge to kiss him back warred within my brain.

He started to pull away after my lack of response. That's when my body took over. As if on instinct, my hand went to the back of his neck, keeping him close. I shut my eyes as I kissed him back, hard.

I was hypnotized by the feeling of his mouth on mine. Our lips moved in perfect sync, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Electricity shot down my spine and spread to every bone in my body.

The arm that was holding me up went weak. It gave out and I crashed to the floor, bringing Levi down with me. Our lips never separated as our chests collided, closing any space there was between us.

Levi held himself up with one forearm, his other hand finding a place on my waist. His touch sent shivers through my whole body. I let the hand I had on his neck move into his soft blonde hair, tugging lightly.

The low moan that escaped him brought me to my senses. I snapped out of my reverie and pulled away as if he'd burnt me. I brought both of my hands to his chest and pushed, sending him tumbling off of me.

Shaking, I stood.

"What the hell was that?" I exclaimed. "Why did you kiss me?"

"W-what?" He stood as well, taking a step towards me.

"Stay the fuck away from me," I said lowly. My fists were clenched and my breathing was heavy. "Now what made you think you could just kiss me?"

His blue eyes shone with hurt as he took a step back. "I... I thought..."

"You thought what? That I was gay? That you could just go ahead and kiss me? Well I'm not, and you can't!"

"You didn't seem too opposed to it a minute ago," he retorted. He stood tall and confident, but his shaking hands have him away.

I closed the gap between us and grabbed him by the collar of his black shirt. "Listen here," my voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. Levi didn't flinch, but the hurt was clear in his eyes. It was almost enough to make me kiss him again. Almost. "I don't know who you think you are, or who you think I am. But I do not like you, and it was not ok for you to kiss me. Now we're going to pretend that never happened, am I clear?"

Levi narrowed his eyes. "Crystal."

"Good," I let go of his shirt, turning to walk back up the hill.

"Just one question," Levi spoke up. I turned back as he continued. "If you're straight, then why did you kiss me back?"

"It doesn't matter!" I snarled, throwing as much anger as I could into the words. "All that matters is that I'm not a fucking fag like you!"

I regretted the words the moment I'd said them, but it was too late to go back now. I turned and ran back up the hill, leaving Levi behind.

~•~•~

I looked up at the plain white ceiling of my bedroom. I'm not sure how long I'd just been laying there, but I knew that the ball was well over now. Romeo was gone.

I can't explain why, but Levi reminded me strangely of the fictional character. Romeo and Juliet is one of my favorite stories of all time, and there was just something about the charming prince that automatically made me think of Shakespeare's famous character.

Maybe it was his natural charm. Maybe it was the mischievous glint he always held in his eyes. Maybe it was his way with words. Whatever it was, Levi was certainly Romeo.

And I just ran away and left him.

I don't know what happened. I saw him and everything was a blur. From the moment my eyes met his, I was intrigued, I was curious. I wanted to talk to him, to get to know him. He drew me in without even knowing it.

At the time, I thought that it was just simple curiosity. Throughout the night, I told myself that I was just interested because he was different. He didn't want something from me. He didn't try to make me feel inferior. He just talked to me. That doesn't happen much at balls.

Now, however, I'm doubting everything. Was I just interested in him? Or was I attracted to h–

No. I'm straight.

Then why did you kiss him back?

You know what, brain? Why don't you just eat a nice big shut-the-fuck-up-cake? I kissed him back because I didn't want to be rude. Yeah, that's it.

It had nothing to do with fireworks that went off inside my head when he kissed me. Or the way my body went weak at the sensation. It didn't involve the fact that his words had been making me blush all night, or the fact that I'd caught myself staring at him several times.

No one could blame me, really. He was a handsome guy. With his soft blonde hair, his crystal blue eyes, his full pink lips...

Any guy would stare, right?

A knock sounded on my door, snapping me out of my daze.

"Come in!"

Phillip, my butler, walked into my large bedroom, bowing formally. I rolled my eyes.

"Phillip, how many times must I tell you, you don't need to do that every time you enter my room."

The 21 year old smirked. "You can say it as many times as you'd like—I'm still going to do it."

"Why?"

"Because it's proper etiquette for a butler. Plus, it's fun to annoy you, kid."

"I hate you."

"You love me," Phillip argued. "Now, before we can continue this debate—I know it can go on for hours—I came here for a reason."

"Aw, I thought you just came to say hi," I pouted jokingly. "I'm starting to think you don't love me anymore, Phillip."

Now it was the butler's turn to roll his eyes. "I don't." I gasped dramatically, putting my hand over my heart. "Just kidding," Phillip grinned. "Now get up off of your arse, the queen wants to talk to you."

"Is that any way for you to speak to me?" I humphed. Phillip rolled his eyes once again, bowing dramatically.

"Sir, the queen would like to speak with you." He exaggerated his own accent to sound like a stereotypical British butler. "I must warn you, she didn't seem pleased."

Groaning, I got out of the bed. I was still clad in my white Royal military shirt and black dress pants, but my shoes had been tossed aside. Muttering a "pray for me" to a Phillip who looked both amused and worried, I exited the comfort of my bedroom.

I walked the halls for what felt like ages until I reached my parents' room. It was the biggest bedroom in the castle, and it had always given me a bit of an uneasy feeling. There was just too much space.

My mother was sitting on the bed, waiting for me. She was no longer in her ball gown, instead wearing her silk robes. Phillip was right, she didn't look too pleased. I smiled nervously.

"You wanted to see me, mother?"

"Yes, Charles I did. Come, have a seat," she patted the spot next to her on her bed. Nervously, I sat down. "Now, would you mind telling me why you were nowhere to be seen during most of the ball tonight?"

Her voice was calm but firm. That's how I knew I was really in trouble.

"Or why you weren't even present for the final dance of the night?"

I gulped. I should have been there, but instead I was sulking in my room.

"Well, Charles? You should know better! As the only heir to the Elizabeth throne, we have raised you to be aware of your responsibilities! One of those is to be present at such large events! You knew this was an important ball, yet you weren't there to represent your family! How is that? What do you reckon the people of Author are going to think? That my son couldn't even be bothered to appear before them? That he didn't think it was important to talk to them at a ball that we threw especially for them? What could have been so urgent that you couldn't even try to make an appearance when it was so important that you did? I swear Charles if it was that stupid art of yours— "

"It wasn't!" I assured. My mother glared at me expectantly, crossing her arms. "I was with Prince Levi all night!"

My mother's expression changed drastically from one of anger to one of interest.

"Prince Levi of Author?" Her angry tone was now curious. I nodded. "Tell me more."

"Well, at some point during the ball, he came and talked to me. I offered him a tour around the castle and, well, that's where I was all night."

My mother smiled, her earlier anger completely erased from her features. "Well done, Charles. You're off the hook. However, in the future, please come see us in advance if you plan on doing something like that, okay?"

"Yes, mother."

"Alright, you are free to go. Goodnight, Charles."

"Goodnight." After a quick hug, I hurried out of her room back to my own to see Phillip laying on my bed. He sat up when I entered.

"Phillip, why are you on my bed?" I questioned.

"Because I want to be," he retorted with a smirk.

"You're one shitty butler, you know that?"

"Only for you, babe," he winked. "Now, what happened with the queen?"

I sighed, plopping down on the bed next to him. "She was just lecturing me over the fact that I was absent for most of the ball."

Phillip looked at me as if I'd said something crazy. "You, absent for most of the ball? Are you ill or something?"

I shook my head, my hands fidgeting in my lap. "No, I'm fine..."

"I must admit, that is quite strange of you, kiddo. Why did you skip?"

"I didn't skip," I explained. "I was giving Levi a tour."

"Am I supposed to know who Levi is?" Phillip asked quizzically.

"Oh, no, sorry. Levi is a prince from Author Island. I met him during the ball and gave him a tour of the castle."

"Aye!" Phillip cheered, raising his hand for a high five. "You did your job, then! That was the whole point of the ball in the first place, right?" I nodded, high-fiving him. "On a scale from one to ten, how obnoxious was he?"

"A solid zero," I answered. Despite the results of the night, I couldn't help but smile at the thought of the blonde prince.

"Seriously?" Phillip looked mildly surprised. "I figured he'd be off the charts! You sure this kid was from Author? A prince from a kingdom that large should be horrible..."

"Hey!"

"You know what I mean, Charles. Now tell me more about this nice prince from author."

I sighed. "Where do I begin? He's funny, he's honest, he's clever... When he walked up to me I knew right away that he wasn't about to try and brag of his wealth or ask for a portion of mine. He's real. He hates balls. He loves music—god, if you ever heard that boy sing... It's incredible. He's really good at fencing. He has his own beliefs. He—"

"You seem to think very highly of this prince," Phillip commented with a smirk.

"How could I not? When he went into the art room—"

"You showed him the art room?" Phillip's eyes were wide in shock. "You never let people you don't know into the art room. Hell, you don't even allow your parents in there most of the time!"

"That's the thing, Phillip," I began. "I did know him. I know I must seem insane, but I feel like I knew him the moment we first made eye contact. This sounds crazy given that we'd just met tonight, but I trusted him. Besides, I didn't show him the art room, he kind of just found it. He's very observant, that one. He wanted to go in so I let him. When he saw the painting of the castle, he understood it immediately. And he agrees, you know. He feels the same way."

Phillip was silent for a moment. "He's sounds like a really cool lad," he said finally.

"Yeah, you two would get along, I think. Like I said, he's funny. He kept calling me Prince Charming all night..."

"Are you sure this guy wasn't flirting with you?" Phillip asked with a chuckle. I knew he was just messing around, yet my shoulders tensed nonetheless.

"O-of course not," I said firmly. "Why the hell would you say that?"

Phillip put his hands up in defense. "Hey man, I was just kidding."

I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. "Um, yeah, of course, sorry. Haha."

Phillip narrowed his eyes, brows furrowed. "Is there something you're not telling me, kid?"

I shook my head way too quickly. Get it together, Charles. "'Course not. I'm fine, mate."

Phillip sighed. "I won't force you to tell me what's up, but remember I'm always here if you need me, alright?" He stood and started towards the exit.

"Wait," I called. Phillip stopped in his tracks. "He kissed me." I said bluntly.

Phillip blinked. "The Author boy?" I nodded.

"Did you... Kiss him back?" He asked cautiously.

"No, I... Well yes, I did, but only for a moment! Because I... Um... It doesn't matter. I pushed him away and said a few things and left. Then that was it." I tried to explain.

Phillip sat back down, looking at me thoughtfully. After a minute of silence, I couldn't stand it anymore.

"Well? Say something! Yell at me, I don't care. Just say something." I demanded.

"Did you enjoy it?"

That wasn't what I had been expecting.

"W-what?"

"The kiss," he elaborated. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Of course not! I'm not gay!" I exclaimed defensively.

"Hey, I'm just asking, mate."

"Well don't ask. I'm straight. I don't like guys in any way, shape, or form."

"Ok," Phillip relented. "I should be heading off to bed now."

He stood, placing a strong hand on my shoulder. "Just so you know, if you weren't straight, I wouldn't care. You'll always be the same Charles to me, alright?"

I nodded numbly.

"Alright then. Goodnight, kid." With that, he turned and left me alone with only my thoughts in my large bedroom.

~•~•~

I tried to sleep. I really did. But there was something—multiple things, actually—that kept me from doing so. My brain was on steroids. It was awake with images of Levi's gorgeous blue eyes, flashbacks to our deepest conversations, the nickname Charlie rolling smoothly off of his tongue. The ghost is his lips still hovered over mine.

I need a distraction.

I hopped out of bed and let my feet lead me along a path I knew oh so well. Downstairs... to the right... straight... to the right.

I opened the door to the music room. My eyes automatically went to the Laura Fauna Phoenix guitar that Levi had played. I recalled the song he had sang. The meaning behind it now seemed obvious, and made me feel like an even huger dick.

I tore my eyes from the guitar and sped toward the door of the art room, yanking it open. I rushed to my easel, tossing aside the painting that I'd been working on previously. With a newfound inspiration, I grabbed my sketchbook. I knew what I'd been missing.

I started with the eyes.