𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙠 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙙𝙮

15.

15. Bewitched

Technoblade followed the full seats of the table all the way down to the last two remaining empty, the other dinner guests paying little to no mind as we walked behind them. The fabric of the military jacket was the darkest of navy, two stripes at the cuffs of his sleeve, one a fiery orange and the other a crisp white. Almost as pure as the snow back in Polis. I couldn't help but stare at the way the fabric clung to the toned muscles of his arms and back, I almost bumped into the man when he stopped at a chair next to my sister.

Technoblade moved behind my chair that pushed under the dark table, pulled it out, and gestured to it. I hesitated, glancing around the table, before sitting down in one quick motion. I moved myself to the edge of the seat, thinking Technoblade had moved onto his own seat, but was surprised when I felt the chair moving.

Looking back at the blue-eyed man with the scared face held that stupidly handsome smirk, and that stupidly attractive glint in his eyes, I swear my nerves were fried. From the number of times I've seen that same expression on his face, I could paint it from memory with my eyes closed. The chair never makes a noise on the tiled floor, and once I am at a comfortable distance from the table, Technoblade moves a piece of hair and tucks it behind my ear with the softest touch I've ever felt. A blush arose from the depths of my checks, and I could say with honesty that it wasn't going away any time soon. Not with the way the man's hand lingered for a moment too long, or how his hand gently laid on my shoulder before he left the side of the table, only removed at the last second. There was only one good reason to be at the end of the table, and it was for moments like these.

The table was set up like this. Closest to the opposite wall of the main doors, there were two sets of cushioned seats that were a tab bit larger than the others that surrounded them, those were for the monarchs. The rest of the seats weren't really assigned to a certain person, but it was custom they have the first born male closest to the queen, who sat to the left of the king. If there were no male heirs, it was just first-born child. I sat beside Elera, Elera beside Leon, then mother beside father. If one monarch has only one child, it would be those in the royal military to fill the rest of the seats left of the prince. To the right could be the military or other high nobles, but to the left was always family first, than others who needed a chair. Every seat will have a black ceramic plate gilded in a dark blue and small green vine accented along the edges when the food was served, a napkin folded to resemble a dove on the corner of everyone's little area. There were three too many forks to the right of the plate, a knife and a spoon to the left. The silverware handles were a deep forest green to match the accents on the plates, and the napkin was black to match the black. There wasn't a cloth over the dark wood of the table, it looks very clean and pristine without it.

Looking down the row as Technoblade walked around to his seat, I saw Azriel beside Queen Naomi, though, of course that wasn't out of the ordinary. What was, however, is the white flower tucked into his suit pocket, the same flower that Leon had held onto. To stop myself from staring at Technoblade as he took his seat, I saw Leon was indeed without the rose like flower. Leon was smiling, for once without a bottle in his hand, a childish grin like one would have after seeing a bird fly by right in front of you, or when you find a cool looking rock along the shore, that smile when you read a romantic scene in a book or see it in a play. A young smile I hadn't seen on my brother since we were small, something I forgot about. I knew who the smile was directed to, blind men would know. It was obvious.

The smile was directed to the boy with the green eyes of his mother and dark hair like his father, and sense of humor like no other. A smile that sparkled like the night sky rivaled the warmth that radiated from Leon's and was coincidently shared with the same boy who he was facing. It was a private moment that no one should have seen, and I was sure it was only me who could see the sentences forming poetry in their eyes, who could see the tides of the ocean and the pull of the moon in their eyes. Azriel and my brother shared a sincere moment that I wasn't supposed to see, but was glad that  I did, though, I knew there could be nothing more than unsaid poetry and secret gifts.

It wasn't every day that Leon was sober, and I was starting to see why, or maybe I was reading too far deep into the simplicity that was a smile, a grin. Maybe it was just a funny joke. Blinking quickly, and leaning back into my chair slightly, smoothing out the few wrinkles in my burgundy dress and letting out a sigh. I could feel a pair of eyes settling on me, knowing it was the man sitting in front of me with many colorful medals across his chest and pink hair.

I wonder how long he had been staring at me. I also wondered when the food would be served and would've asked if not for King Alford standing with a glass in his hand, a salad fork in his other. A toast.

"Another year, and another wonderful celebration to mark the anniversary of the treaty signed over 20 years ago!" The king states, a few low claps sounded from the right end of the table, from the high military men and women. "I would like to make a toast to the Land of Polis to the north, and Tartarus to the south. May the following years be as peaceful as the ones we live in now." King Alford rose his glass to the domed ceiling, and was followed by the others of the table, including myself and the man in front of me, but no one took a sip yet.

Making eye contact was an easy thing to do, but harder to break. Especially when the eyes who capture your own are filled with this mystery you couldn't quite place, glowed with a strange danger that was enthralling. A low hum echoed, and blurred voices followed, the smell of food entered the room, and a tropical scent was set in front of me.

Only then, did I watch as Technoblade took a sip of his blood red wine, ending the King's speech, licking his lips of the staining liquid. His eyes hooded, smirk lifting the scar across his face. The pink of his hair seemed to glow under the moon above head, the stars reflecting in the glass he held in his right.

He hadn't done anything, hadn't even spoke, but just like Leon, I was completely bewitched, except he was bewitched by one who we've known our entire life, I was by a man I had known for as long as two days.

october. 15 - April. 28

I swear I'm not dead, it's only been like two years