ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

We ride towards Mt. Elora to Tobin's home by the crystalline waters.

I cornered him the moment he stepped onto castle property, begging him to take me out of there for just a night, because tomorrow I'll be gone. He must know something isn't right, and yet he doesn't press any questions. He let me run with him, away from the castle walls that collapse in on me, threatening to bury me. How can I be a saviour to the people when the world keeps trapping me six feet under?

Tonight, Tobin and I are free.

He slows the pace of Neph as we enter into the meadow. Everything is just as it was: the glass waters, the ivy-coated homestead, the vast peaks of Mt. Elora.

Tobin pulls me in closer against his chest, the palms of his hand scathing the surface of my cloak until his thumb brushes the dip of my ribs beneath. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Evergreen. He smells of evergreen. And freedom. And danger.

Tobin slips off his horse, then helps me down as well as I stumble into his chest. Without saying a word, he takes my hand in the calloused grip of his own. They fit so well, as if the sculptor knew that we were two pieces meant to mold together.

He guides me over to the edge of the lake where the shore meets the sand. He shares a soft crooked smile. When I look into those kind eyes, a lock of his hair falls into them, and my fingertips brush across his forehead as I tuck the cowlick away.

"I needed this," I tell him. "Just a breath of fresh air."

"Something's bugging you, isn't it?" he asks.

"Is it that obvious?"

He squeezes our interlocked hands—a hand I suddenly want to hold onto forever and never let go. In a matter of nights, I fear that Tobin has built himself a foundation in my chest to construct a home. I want him to become a part of me, permanently, even though fate's cards tell us that we'll need to let go.

"I have an idea," his gaze falls to our feet. He kneels down in front of me and undoes the laces of his boots, kicking them off to the side. When his feet are bare, he reaches for my foot. "May I?"

"Tobin," I set my hand on his shoulder to keep my balance, then lift my foot to his hands. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Making you forget about the shit Leighton's putting you through," he raises his kind brown eyes. "Life has a way of fucking with us, but you asked me to pretend that it doesn't matter when night comes." He grins. "I'm just obeying orders, princess."

When he lowers my foot to the sand, I feel the grains sink between my toes. I've felt the sand before, but tonight, my senses heighten in lucidity as the world brightens in full saturation. And there, betwixt the enchanting palette of the night, stands a thief.

As he removes his sword and scabbard, the moonlight catches the thin gold chain around his neck. My necklace with the crescent moon. It's ironic that the necklace only glimmers at the night when both of us ignite with life.

He sets a hand on my waist, the flecks of gold caught in Tobin's irises mirroring the night stars. "Dance with me."

I burst out laughing. "You don't strike me as a dancer."

"Being a fugitive is just like dancing," he grins. "I have to maneuver around guards and swords so I don't get myself killed."

"I don't think that counts."

"Don't worry, princess," he winks. "You'll see my dance moves and instantly fall in love."

I don't need his dance moves to fall in love. I fear I already have.

I step close to him, entering his space so our hearts can sync up to each other's rhythm, because that is the melody we will play. The ballad of a thief and a princess, lost in the clash of two kingdoms falling to their knees.

He begins to sway, his body stiffer than mine. Through my cloak, his thumb prods once again at the dip in my rib. It's like he's charting a map of my body, every ridge, every curve, every erosion. He's no cartographer, (I've seen the map he used), but there's a lingering sentiment with every touch that knows he's committing me to his memory.

I set my palms on his chest as he pulls me in closer. He lets his hands travel downward until they rest at my hips. He grips tight, then ushers my hips up against his. I move with every oscillation—mimicking him. A low baritone hum echoes from the back of his throat. It's coarse in tune, but it smooths down the worries of tomorrow that I feel. I join him with my own voice, a soprano melody that twines with his in perfect harmony.

There, in the moonlight, we dance to a song that becomes our own. I spin, and he guides our bodies as if we were instruments. Footprints scatter themselves in the sand like the notes of music left behind, and water splashes at our feet as we dance on the shallow shore. We are a symphony, a heavenly chord that the gods find delight in.

There is only us. When the world comes to an end, all that remains will be this night. This dance.

His forehead presses against mine. Brown eyes meet grey, and the woes of the past seem so far away.

And yet they've never been closer.

When our song begins to cease, Tobin grips my hips with each sway of his own, locking me in against him. There's a throbbing need inside of him, a desire that grows in his trousers demanding a release from a woman's touch. Our eyes meet, and his remain dazed with desire.

He's hypnotized by our song, and I never even noticed. Maybe I am too.

Our dance lingers as he grinds softly into me, dismissing any discretions now.

I kiss his cheek. "Lay down."

The order comes out strict, powerful in tone, and my thief obeys reverently. Pools of lust orbit the gold flecks in his eyes as he lays against the soft sand, leaning on perched elbows. His eyes dance between I standing before him and the tent pitched in his trousers from his cock.

I undress from the cloak, revealing the silk of my nightdress that gleams under the moonlight. Blonde hair illuminates a halo around me. To him, I must seem like a goddess sent to pardon him from his sins.

I straddle him, placing his erection right near my entrance so maybe he can feel my longing for him too. The hunger for one another swells between us, yet there's a boundary neither of us dare to cross. He's forbidden. Untouchable. It's against every law for a wanted thief and a princess to consider falling to cupid's temptations.

I set my hands beside his head, then roll my hips deeply against his own. A moan escapes him as those kind brown eyes fall shut.

"Fuck," he breathes into the air, a curse so sovereign that I can't help but continue.

"Petty thief," I murmur near his ear. "What am I to you?"

The word leaves his lips, an oath engraved on his heart. "Moonlight..."

With every roll, our bodies cripple under the pleasure. It builds within us, that desire for another taste and bite. Neither of us kiss. Just watch. I watch the ways his eyes roll back, close shut, then open with adoration. I watch the way his chest rises and falls with every hitched breath. I watch the way his hand sneaks down to his shirt as he lifts it up over his chiseled abdomen, his fingers brushing the taut veins that lead towards his bucking hips. I watch as his hand sinks beneath the hem of his trousers, gripping around his hardened length as he gives himself a languid stroke.

I never expected Tobin to touch himself when my hands are perfectly capable of doing just so, but he would never dare intrude such intimate places on my body without my consent.

Suddenly, I want to build him up to his peak, to be the reason he releases tonight. Though Tobin's kind eyes remain dazed, I'm not sure if he realizes what he's doing, or if it's just instinct.

But every song must come to an end, even the ones as beautiful as ours.

His hand strokes again, the rhythm of his wrist accelerating, causing every muscle in his abdomen to tense then release—but I set my palm on his forearm and guide his hand away from his trousers. I stop rolling my hips. He can't cave into the temptation. Not tonight. Not ever. No matter how desperately I want to let him fall with me.

Those brown eyes flutter open, gazing up at the princess perched on his lap.

"I'm leaving for Adorid tomorrow."

And just like that, I ended our symphony.

He sits up like lightning. His expression twists, and even I can feel the wrath building within his chest. "Like hell you are."

"It's only for seven days," I rouse, trying to calm his suddenly irritated demeanor. "It's just so Leighton can announce the marriage to his kingdom, then I'll return."

"You can't—" he holds himself back, not knowing what in the seven seas to say. I knew he wouldn't want me to go, but it's not like I have a choice. The fate of Lagulon remains at stake. "You can't go to Adorid. That's like walking straight into the mouth of the fucking beast."

"I'm not going alone," I say. "I'll have Lorcan with me as a guard."

His eyes widen in offense. "And who the fuck is Lorcan?"

"My father's right hand," I quickly say to ease Tobin's rash stroke of jealousy. "He's like an uncle to me. I trust him to bring me back here in one piece."

Tobin can't hold me back from fulfilling my duties. He can criticize the choice, even though it wasn't mine to make in the first place. It was an order. Go to Adorid with Leighton, or the kingdom will suffer the consequences of his iron fist.

Tobin's mood shift can be felt throughout the entire meadow. Even Neph pauses from chowing down on grass to gaze at her master, whinnying in concern. He's made himself clear.

He doesn't want me to go to Adorid.

"What if you follow me?" I whisper, clinging to a spark of hope. "You're an expert at sneaking around. If you can figure out my castle, I'm sure you can navigate theirs—"

"I can't follow you," his voice draws out in a stale tone. "I have to stay here."

"Then you have to understand that I have to go there," my fingers comb through his messy chestnut brown hair. "It's not forever, at least not yet. It's only seven days."

It's seven days too long, too many. At least for him.

He lifts me off his lap, not saying a word due to his clenched jaw. He wanders back over to his boots and scabbard, lacing them up and rebelting the sword. The night seemed to be going so well for him, and I destroyed it with a simple sentence.

He throws my slippers at me. "We're going back."

And we do. I expect him to be distant with me, but the news of the departure only pulls us closer together. There's a strange possessiveness to his posture, the way his arms lace around my torso to lock me in place. To him, I am bound. Chained. Twisted in his embrace.

But I am not his. I belong to no one. In another world, I could be the one to occupy space in his soft beautiful heart, but it can never be like that. As long as I am betrothed to Leighton, Tobin can't be in the picture. He can't exist in my world.

When we enter the bedroom, I'm silenced by the soft tender kiss of the thief. His kiss searches for meaning, for a purpose to hold onto the blossoming romance that we have. When he finds it in my response, my lips parting to fit closer to his, he breaks the kiss to speak such words of helplessness: "You will be the death of me."

Maybe I never ended our song.

Maybe, we're still composing it, and we're only at the beginning.

── •✧• ──

Tobin and Imogen will be separated soon, but what do you think is going to happen in the next seven days? Will Tobin betray Imogen in this time? Who knows. I guess you'll have to keep reading to find out.

Anyways, I will be away for a few days this week, so I am unsure if there will be many updates. The next one might come by this weekend! Stay tuned! Vote, comment, & share as well!