Fragile Desires (18+)

Forty-Four | Perfecta

The weight of the invisible crown seems to press down unbearably on my head today. 

It wasn't there yesterday, or the day before, but today, it's a constant, cool pressure. 

A reminder that the day I become Queen inches closer with each sunrise.

I imagine it being like the iron corset I wore at the Ambassador's ball last month.

Beautiful, yes, with emeralds sparkling like a traitor whispering secrets.

But it stole my breath, squeezed the laughter from my lungs, and made every dance step a measured sigh.

This crown, this invisible crown, threatens to do the same. 

To confine the joy, the freedom, the very essence of who I am. 

Perhaps that's the price of duty. 

Perhaps the crown isn't meant to comfort, but to mold.

But can I be molded while holding onto the one person I truly desire most?

- Azzy

♛Chapter Forty-Four: Perfecta♛

The next morning approached in the form of packed suitcases and comfortable clothes.

Waking up nestled in Renata's arms had grown into something I began getting used to, each morning more breathtaking than the last.

Even the thought of an empty bed beside me seemed entirely unimaginable to me.

"Renata, we have to leave in ten minutes," I chuckled softly as she lifted me onto the cool countertop of the kitchen island.

The cold chill from the counter sent shivers down my spine, but it was quickly forgotten under the warmth of her touch.

Renata only hummed, placing a kiss to the palm of my hand that she held to her soft lips, "It's a private plane—we can be late," she determined as she began trailing kisses up my arm.

I only shook my head, watching as her kisses grew higher and higher—until she was suddenly leaving them up my neck.

"It's inconsiderate," I pointed out.

She only hummed, "And," she countered, her soft voice warm against my neck, "They get paid to deal with it."

With a swift movement, she tugged me closer, wrapping my legs possessively around her torso.

Frustration battled against desire within me.

My body craved her touch, but the thought of keeping people waiting gnawed at my conscience.

"Everyone will be waiting on us," I emphasized, unconsciously tilting my head to give her better access as I trailed my hands up her covered back.

Renata pulled away, her gaze locking with mine, "Do you want me to stop?" she asked, almost in the form of a challenge.

Heat flooded my cheeks, my internal answer a stark contrast to the noticeable defiance I projected.