🌞🌻
"You should have told me you were royalty--that you were the crown prince," Gulf admonished. "If you had..."
"You wouldn't have fallen in love with me," Mew said with such a gentle mist in his eyes that Gulf couldn't say anything more.
Of course it didn't matter if Mew was royalty or not. Honestly, his position is wasn't the least bit important to Gulf. The most important thing was that Mew be Mew.
"What a horrible thing to say," Gulf remarked. Drowning, he shook his head and turned away.
Mew drew him back. "Horrible? Maybe it is. Maybe I am. After all, I shut you up in here after I carried you off."
"To a place like this." Gulf concluded.
Feeling the warmth of Mew's body behind him, he wanted to cry. He wanted to curse God for making things this difficult. What had he ever done to deserve this suffering?
"A place like this? You used to talk all the time about how much you wanted to see Madina." Mew gave a small laugh against the back of Gulf's neck.
"That was six years ago," Gulf said, concentrating on the feeling of Mew's hands stroking his hair. He wanted to remember this, the feel of these hands, even if the man never touched his hair again.
"You don't want to live here, do you?"
Mew tossed the question out casually, but Gulf didn't hesitate with his answer.
"No, I don't."
Mew's hands stopped. He was probably disappointed by the answer.
"You didn't think about it at all," he accused softly.
"There's nothing to think about," was the equally soft reply.
If thinking did any good, Gulf would gladly agonize over the question forever. But it didn't accomplish anything. Mew would become king, he would marry Yaya, and he would produce a successor. He would carry out his duty as the king of Madina. His personal feelings didn't matter.
"I suppose I knew you were going to say that." Mew said.
He pulled his body away from Gulf.
A cold breeze blew across Gulf's body. "Let me go back to Thailand" he pleaded, swallowing the impulses rising up inside him, which were making him feel miserable.
Mew stood up from the bed and turned away. "It's an honor to be born into the royal family," he whispered.
Mew had a muscular back that traced a supple line. Gulf remembered clearly the feel of this man's skin when it was dry and smooth, and also when it was slick with sweat.
But Gulf couldn't touch him.
Mew's shoulders shook slightly. "But there's no freedom within it," he said even more quietly.
Gulf bit his lip at the vulnerebility in those words. If he didn't hold himself back, he knew that he would throw his arms around the man standing in front of him.
But why couldn't they just throw everything away? Why couldn't they run off somewhere far away together?
Because he knew it wouldn't work. Gulf was too much of a coward, and too ordinary to be capable of something like that.
TBC