"I intend to protect you," I said softly, kissing her neck. "Do you know that?"
"I know," she murmuring, her soft breath touching me.
Last night wasn't like anything I've experienced. It was like we had a common language. It wasn't just me trying to love her, she wanted me too. Not just because of the costume of a man I wear every day smiling at the crowd. I felt more than that, I had never felt anything like it before.
We still have not moved, intent on being each other's presence, soaking in the feeling of each other. Although I felt the sun shining anew on my back.
My hands are wrapped around her, hugging her waist. I run a finger along her spine. She let out a deep sigh, and it seemed as if all the tension in her body was starting to release.
"I'm so scared of what I'll be when I'm out there. I don't want to just be a princess. I want..."
Her brows furrowed, and she thought, "I don't even know what I want."
"You are," I insisted. She was the one who inspired me to run to freedom. How could she not believe her own words?
I turn her towards me, wrapping both of ourselves, not ready to leave the moment. "You are Helena. No one will ever be like you."
I tucked her hair, now tangled all over the bed, behind her ear. "You don't have to understand everything right away."
She swatted it on my abs. "I know."
The pain only inserts a slight chuckle from me, "I will remember that for future reference."
"I just feel like an idiot." She bites her bottom lip hard, nearly sending me into a groan of lust. Gods, this woman. "Sometimes I'm jealous of you. You got to see and know so much more than I ever did. You already know what and who you are."
I inch my face to hers, inches from each other's lips. I inhaling her quickening breath. "Who exactly am I?"
The flirtatious voice that I so often use. It exudes from these flushed cheeks that were last night moaning my name. She turns her eyes to me, but not before I see her neck redden. I tighten my grip on her.
She remains quiet, not answering my question. Maybe she wouldn't answer me because I sure as hell who I am.
The little voice in my head told me to return. You know who you are. You're a killer.
I banished those thoughts away. I took was her silence as a chance to curl my fingers around her soft, curling hair. The golden strands feel like sunlight around my fingers. She moves away from my grip, eyeing her abandoned gown. "We should go."
I nearly begged, "not yet."
"Not yet," she answers my not-quite request.