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#Enemies to lovers
phoebehalliwell · 10 minutes ago
How heartbreaking do you think is was for Chris to not be able to heal Bianca, no matter how much he loved her ? How many times was she hurt and he was powerless ?? So he practice and practice again in hope of being able to do the healing thing just so he could protect her ?
yeah see this okay this is exactly why i think chris just like will never develop the power of healing because like if there was any time literally Any Time for that power to appear it was life or death with bianca. like that's how piper "got" it, that's how paige got it, it's literally the loved one your one and only about to die in front of you and bam you can heal. so i think the fact that chris could do nothing in that moment really speaks to the fact that it is just not in his skill set it's not a gift he'll ever have, and quite frankly, i think it drives him up the wall. because, like , the way i specifically envision the dark future (here is the tag if u wanna poke thru!) i think like wyatt was kidnapped like gideon attempted to kill him for like. A Hot Fuckin Minute. and it just did not work lmao and like meanwhile on earth piper and leo r goin apeshit trying to find what demon has their son razing the underworld all that so gideons like 👀oop and he keeps wyatt in the heavens bc no ones gonna find him there so like wyatt's association with the heavens with whitelighters the elders all that is very strongly negative we actually see in imaginary fiends evil wyatt has black orbs instead of like the whitelighter vibe which i don't think is just a simply morality switch like oh i'm evil now and then your like. aura just changes color to match. i think it's probably somethign wyatt mutated within himself using his own power. this is off topic anyone ever read the everlost books? i'm 90% sure that's what they were called. anyway. the point of this narrative is i think evil wyatt hates the heavens and i think he definitely razed that i think he probably like slaughtered any and all whitelighters so healing itself is a very rare power i think sidebar chris and bianca & co are really trying to figure out like. how to make more whitelighters. clearly there must be something in the water so to speak it's not just a pick and choose there's some predestined element that's why darklighters are able to sniff out future whitelighters but like. they still don't know the process. also i think wyatt knows they're trying to figure it out i think he probably kills a lot of future whitelighters because like. fuck those guys. so yeah. i think the fact that healing is so rare in the dark future, and that chris is like. one of the only if not The Only witchlighter not to have it, and then SPECIFICALLY the fact that wyatt possess this power that he can literally heal and the only thing i think he uses it for is torture like it kills chris it does it's the fuckin inferiority complex to the max like if only he wasn't the weaker one by a mile if only he wasn't the worse brother but nope he can't heal and they're all fucked.
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byeolbitch · 50 minutes ago
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Half-Life Masterlist
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✧˚ · . rating: mature
✧˚ · . genre: royalty/historical/fantasy au, angst, friends to lovers to enemies
✧˚ · . warnings: graphic depictions of violence, corporal punishment, massacre, depictions/mentions of death, psychotic characters, vague sex scenes (not explicit), implied/referenced major character death
✧˚ · . ship: taegi (side jihope)
✧˚ · . wordcount: 7.3k, chaptered + ongoing (2/?)
✧˚ · . ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054669
✧˚ · . summary:
Fascinations with strange things leads to strange outcomes for the way one lives their lives. Min Yoongi was always fascinated with strange things. He walked through half of his life as if he was in a fever dream, and the other half with an unquenchable thirst for power. Kim Taehyung lived his life as a whole, but knew he needed Yoongi to make that whole complete. When a childhood tragedy threatens to break Taehyung’s whole into two separate halves, he realizes he needs to do whatever it takes to fix it—even if that means facing the person who broke his whole completely.
Prologue - Wraith
Chapter 1 - Grove of Secrets
✧˚ · . back to masterlist
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welcometopromptland · an hour ago
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I'll be honest, I like enemies to lovers because I feel as if the only time I am allowed to be sad and let myself go emotionally is after extreme emotional or physical trauma like the kind an enemy might witness and I just can't imagine myself ever being emotionally vulnerable unless I am forced to
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loadsoflouves · 3 hours ago
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can y'all give me enemies to lovers fic recs?
i wanna feel smth
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fromthebrave · 3 hours ago
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Donde el príncipe William, tendrá que probar su valía para suceder al rey en el trono, a pesar de que su condición de omega.
O donde el alfa y duque de Wellington, Edward, es invitado misteriosamente por el rey.
Ambos tendrán que enfrentarse a la cúpula de la realeza, donde los secretos se susurran a voces, donde las mentiras y conspiraciones, son el pan de cada día.
*síganme en Wattpad (bravecreature_) y ao3 como (bravecreature)
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chaotic-academia-angel · 3 hours ago
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He’s mine…
He’s…he’s also everyone else’s…
But he’s also mine.
And he’s mine more than he is anyone else’s.
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0phi3 · 4 hours ago
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DAY DREAMS ARE WACK
( trigger warning :: the words su1c1d3, m*rd3r and k1ll )
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so I was listening to this song and day dreaming right? and I started to imagine an enemies to lovers story where at some point the guy is chasing after the MC and he’s like “don’t you dare” when she’s about to jump off a cliff into the ocean, but she does anyway, and then he’s like “oh for fucks sake, I can’t believed I’m doing this” as he annoyingly takes off his dress jacket and then jumps after the girl.
as the MC falls closer and closer towards the water the guy reaches toward the girl, pulling her closer to his chest switching positions while falling so that as they fell into water they would receive most of the impact.
One thought went through the MC’s head as they both fell into the water, ‘I can’t swim’ as they both crashed into the ocean, the guy’s grip loosened on the MC leaving the MC by themselves. MC takes a deep breath as their vision filled with water, they clawed at their throat desperate to get some air.
meanwhile the guy, is trying to swim up towards the shore before he realizes that they aren’t holding onto the MC anymore and desperately tried to find them while trying not to waste oxygen, in the distance he saw a body clawing at their throat.
he swam towards them and roughly grabbed the MC hands from their throat and put them on his back with their arms around his shoulder and swam to the shore, finally with the MC safely in his arms.
he lays down the MC on their back on the soft sand and opens their airway. their alive... and breathing, thankfully. He didn’t know what he’d do without... no this isn’t the time to think about that. The guy shook his head and sat down on the sand his head in his hands breathing heavily and trying to recall why he did what he just did.
the sound of a small gasp runs through the air, making the guy eagerly look towards the noise. He see’s the MC breathing heavily their hand on their chest
“I... I thought I just died” he hears MC mutter to themselves, but did he care? nope. he looked at the MC in disbelief and grabbed their shoulders, making them look at him.
“YOU’RE INSANE” the guy yells at them, almost desperately, “WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT, ARE YOU TRYING TO DIE”
. . .
“wha- what?”
“WHY DID YOU JUMP OFF”
the MC stared at the guy in disbelief, isn’t this supposed to be the man that hated them? why did they sound like they were so... scared for them..?
“I KNEW YOU WERE A DUMBASS BUT I DIDN’T YOU WERE SO DUMB YOU’D TRY AND KILL YOURSELF I THOUGHT MURDER WAS YOUR JOB, NOT SUICIDE” the guy continued his rant now vigorously shaking the MC’s shoulders.
the MC a bit annoyed shook the guys shoulders off, “WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH”
“BECAUSE WHY WOULD I WANT MY ENEMY TO DIE, IF ANYONE’S GOING TO KILL YOU IT’S ME”
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note :: DAY DREAMS ARE WACK, bitch I wish I could write this shit- but my brain somehow can’t think of anything when I’m not daydreaming?? that’s is just dumb >:(
note :: someone please write this, I’m begging you :cri:
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the---hermit · 4 hours ago
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I've been doing a lot of self reflection this past year, and one thing I realized is that years ago, before I figured out I was bi, actually before I was even questioning myself I had this weird pattern I used to fall into. This was probably most defenetly due to a lot of internalized biphobia, but I used to develop a weird dislike/ "hate" (strong word but I need to get my point across so bare with me) for girls I later realized I liked. This used to happen A LOT with famous people, or just girls I used to watch on youtube. And so I used to find myself trapped in this limbo of irrational dislike for girls that had nothing wrong (they probably even had interest I had), and a part of me who couldn't stop consuming their content. Until one day something in my brain clicked and I was like : oh.
So what I am saying is that I am natural enemies to lovers material ladies, so watch out.
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holylulusworld · 4 hours ago
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Burning hatred masterlist (JA)
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Summary: You hate your film partner. Right?
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Actress!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, love-hate relationship, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, smut, unprotected sex, possessive Jensen, creampie, marking, biting, hair pulling, semi-public sex, degrading, breeding kink, restraints, doggy style, use of sex toys/sex swing, all the kinky shit will be added later
A/N: I wrote the same story for Chris and Jensen as I couldn’t choose one. Sorry not sorry. (There is only a slight difference.)
Divider by @firefly-graphics​​
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Burning Hatred (1) - The first time *
Burning Hatred (2) - Five months time stamp *
Burning Hatred (3) - Oops we did it again *
Burning Hatred (4) - Wait! What?
Burning Hatred (5) - Knock you up *
TBA
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Divider by @firefly-graphics​
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whumpyourenemy · 4 hours ago
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Spy fic (Imagine 3) - “Who did this?”
After somehow making it back to HQ, Agent A navigates her dim hallway in a dizzy haze. The shadows swirl before her- twisting, turning and blurring with her waning consciousness. Her head is pounding, the floor threatening to draw closer with every unsteady breath.
Five more steps. Her right hand holds the wall for traction. Her left holds her bleeding side.
Four more steps. Her feet trip over each other as she inches forward.
Her room draws closer. Agent A is shaking, losing control.
Three more steps. Her eyelids are incredibly heavy. Her arm is slipping from the wall.
One more step. 
Agent A reaches out to the palm scanner. Buggy thing won’t read her palm. Is it the blood caked on them? The cuts? The new blisters? 
She’s pounding on it now in weak desperation when the door finally opens, warm light streaming though. Agent A keels forward, at last she’s reached her haven, her beloved room - when firm arms catch her. 
‘Agent A! What..’
Agent B doesn’t finish what he’s about to say. Agent A looks up slowly, her light brown eyes are drowsy as she mumbles incoherently.
He quickly notices the film of sweat on her forehead and the goosebumps on her neck despite her hot, flushed skin. 
‘Agent, Agent, hey wake up! what happ-’
A’s eyes close regardless - ignoring him as she always does.
Flustered, Agent B picks her up and carries her to his bed. She is so light in his arms, a far cry from his formidable rival. Her face close to his, he smells the distinct sweetness of poison. His chest sinks, his brain goes into overdrive. 
She’s bleeding and poisoned and feverish and weak. He’s in terror, working desperately through the night to suture and sooth and give her an antidote. The thought of losing her is real and raw. 
He doesn’t deserve to love her - had always masked his love with hate, had wanted to hurt her because it hurt to love her. But when her fever finally breaks, he can’t hide his sigh of relief or the tear that escapes his eye. By the time she wakes, his relief is replaced by another emotion entirely.
Agent A opens her eyes slowly to see Agent B’s stoic face staring right back at her.
She starts to speak but this time he cuts her off.
‘Who did this?’
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reesourire · 5 hours ago
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#CoverReveal: 5 Rounds by Nikki Castle
#CoverReveal: 5 Rounds by Nikki Castle #Preorder: Amazon→ https://amzn.to/2SoF4Yy #enemiestolovers #forcedproximity #sportsromance #MMA #roommates #booklover #bookblogger #IndiePenPR
Join us for the cover reveal of 5 Rounds by Nikki Castle. Fans who love enemies to lovers romance will sink their teeth into this hot sports romance. Keep scrolling for more details about this sexy cover. Title: 5 Rounds Author: Nikki Castle Release Date: July 16, 2021 Genres: Contemporary Romance Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Sports Romance Synopsis: She’s a feisty…
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heartburriedinvenice · 5 hours ago
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― STALEMATE chapter two
jean kirstein x reader
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chapter two - a friend amongst strangers
summary : in which you meet sasha in the most unusual of ways, homesickness can show up in the most unlikely of times, friends are made, and enemies are made more clear.
word count : 3300+
warning : minor curse words, TENSION (is that a warning, idk, but its there), talks of violence, and fighting (with words). that should be it, but do let me know if i forgot anything :))
a /n : hey friends! i'm back (again), and i'm bringing more writing woo woo!! exams are done, i'm feeling good, and some chapters have been written (plus the whole book is now planned out), so should be smooth sailing from here. updates should be weekly (aiming for every friday with the occasional bonus). anyways hope you enjoy this chapter and feedback (reblogs, comments in my inbox, likes) are always accepted and loved ! <33
series masterlist | join the taglist ( for this series ) | next chapter | previous chapter
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AND SO THERE YOU SAT, on the edge of the large bed of cascading fabrics and soft sheets, listening as Lisa Blouse delivered a hearty scolding to the girl who you could only guess to be her daughter. A mother's scolding was easy to pick out, and you knew it all too well, after years of your mother's cries to sit up straight or try to pay attention. Knowing it all came from a place of love no matter how harsh or loud her word ever got.
“Does Nicollo not feed you enough?” Mrs. Blouse exclaimed, pacing around the room, you feeling as if you were invading on private matters even if you were in your own room.
“I’m sorry,” the girl grumbled.
“Don’t apologize to me,” Mrs. Blouse directed, turning her attention back to you. You who lazily sat on the bed, twiddling with the fabrics from your dress that layered on top of your skin, suddenly sitting up at the sudden attention.
The girl, Sasha you had picked up on after minutes of her mother's lectures, bowed her head in apology, carrying the bag of berries back across the room and dropping them into your lap.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, reciting her next lines somewhat robotically, almost as if rehearsed. “I should not have taken these, I hope this doesn’t squander your perspective of me.”
“You don’t need to apologize, it's okay, really,” you reassured. “I wasn’t gonna eat them anyways. It would be better if they didn’t go to waste.”
You picked the bag up off your lap and extended your hand out to her, the girl looking between you, the bag, and quickly back to her mother as if weighing her options, calculating her move.
“Really?” she asked shocked, as if she had never been offered something like that before. You only nodded in return. And with one last look to her mother for any disapproving look, the girl practically snatched the berries from your hand and returned to eating.
“Now with that settled,” said Mrs. Blouse with an exasperated, almost tired sigh. “Let's get you ready for bed dearie. Sasha, will you go draw a bath?”
“Yes,” she grumbled through her stuffed mouth, before bolting off into the second part of your room that you had yet to get a look at.
Mrs. Blouse helped you undress, unfastening the many buttons, lifting many layers, unzipping zippers until you felt practically weightless. She did as your maids had back at home, the same as Hitch who was by your side every hour of every day, not only because she had to but because she wanted to. You wanted to laugh, laugh at how silly it was to feel sadness over something as simple as undressing. Feeling sad over the silence of your new bedroom as opposed to jokes and laughter that was shared at nights as Hitch helped you prepare for the evening.
Guided into the bathroom, you slipped into the warmth of the bath, left on your own as Sasha and Mrs. Blouse made for the exit. Though not without Mrs. Blouse saying to call for her if you needed anything at all. It was quiet, other than the splash of water from your small movements or the quiet droplets of the faucet that continued to slowly leak. You sat idly, so many thoughts in your head but no want to even sort through them all. It hurt, your head pounding, you couldn’t focus half as well as you should have been able to normally. You cleansed your skin in the soapy water, before slipping out and dressing in the silk nightgown that had been laid out for you.
Emerging from the bathroom, you were met with nothing but more silence, no longer any sight of Mrs. Blouse. Your only company being the flickering candles on the windowsill and bedside and the stars that dotted the darkness of the night sky.
The door creaking open startled you, your daze slowly drifting away as you quickly turned to meet your intruder. Though it was merely Sasha, as she gave you an apologetic smile and quietly closed the door.
“Sorry,” she whispered until the door was shut. “Didn’t mean to startle you, I forgot how creaky that door is.”
You only nodded in acknowledgment of her words, taking your seat at a vanity, still facing the girl, who now took a more straightened and stiff position.
“Mother said I’d be assigned to you from now on. Anything I can do for you Miss before I leave you for the night?” She asked, once again sounding so robotic and rehearsed, looking as if she was barely breathing.
You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you at the sight. You could only imagine how you had looked at dinner, probably similar in stature, stiff as a board at the table.
“You don’t need to worry about standing straight and stuff,” you noted. “I don’t really care for all the formalities all that much-”
“Oh thank goodness,” Sasha said cutting you off, relaxing and releasing the breath she has been holding. “I thought I would have to stand like this for the rest of my life!”
Even in the one sentence, the girl’s personality had shown through. No longer just a castle worker, but Sasha, a girl your age, a normal girl like you. And in a way, it reminded you of home, of Hitch, of not having to keep up the royal facade behind closed doors.
“I just wanted to say thank you again for the berries earlier, I’ve never been given anything like that by someone, well, at least not by someone like you,” Sasha began to ramble. “I mean look at you, all formal and pretty! You are stunning by the way! And those berries were the best berries I have ever tasted, I knew your kingdom heavily leaned towards agriculture but I didn’t expect them to be so good. We have good food here, but not nearly as many farmers. A lot of our stuff is imported from other kingdoms. That’s why I’m glad we are mending things with your kingdom, cause you know, more good food…”
You sat there in awe of how quickly she could speak, switching topics so fast, words leaving her mouth a mile a minute, night and day from the girl who had originally entered your room that evening. You couldn’t keep up, you simply listened, picking up on whatever small details you could grasp.
“And Nicollo will be so excited to work with new things….and I’m rambling again, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I wasn’t supposed to do that and I did it anyway,” she quickly began to apologize. “If you’d like me to leave for the night I can-”
“It’s alright!” You cut her off this time, your voice coming out louder than you intended, softening upon your next. “It’s really alright, I promise, I don’t mind. I don’t like the silence in the castle all that much, it’s nice to hear something other than talks of marriage and kingdom alliances.”
“It’s nice to be listened to,” Sasha replied, a soft smile gracing her face.
A quiet chime echoed through the room, as you both turned your gaze towards the grand clock in one of the corners, both hands pointing upwards toward the twelve.
“I didn’t realize how late it was,” Sasha acknowledged. “You need to get to bed, you have a long day tomorrow.”
“I do?” You asked, unaware of what she was speaking of.
“Normally on the first day a guest arrives, a tour of the kingdom follows,” she explained. “I doubt you will be an exception to that rule.”
Your stomach turned at the words, you more than anything wishing for a way to just stay locked up in your room for a few more days until maybe whatever happened with Jean that night could be forgotten.
“You seem worried,” Sasha said, worry lacing her voice. “It’s not that bad I promise, just Jean and you, some guards as well. The kingdom outside the palace is gorgeous, full of life, and some of the best-baked goods I’ve ever had! You’ll love it!”
You only nodded, your mouth growing dry, unsure of what to say, how to explain your worry.
Without a word you shuffled across the room before practically collapsing down on the soft bed, letting out a long sign that you had been wanting to let out for hours. Oh how you wished you could get every word and thought in your head out, ask Sasha to stay and have her sit on the edge of the bed how Hitch had on most bad nights. How you desperately wished to have someone to talk to for hours about all your worries, about what had happened at dinner, about what you had done all those years ago. You wanted to cry out all your tears that threatened to escape your eyes every few minutes. But it wouldn’t be the same and you had no want or desire to put that all on the poor girl's shoulders who probably was in desperate need of an escape from her duties.
“You can go,” you simply stated. “Thank you for everything this evening.”
“I should be thanking you,” Sasha said, though worry still remained ingrained on her face at your shift in tone and mood. “Goodnight. I will retrieve you in the morning for breakfast.”
And with a small curtsy, the girl left, careful to close the door softly this time. You were again alone, left to the glow and flicker of candles, laying on your bed that didn’t feel at all as warm and welcoming as the one back at home.
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YOU SHOT UP AT THE SOUND of the creaky door, hearing a quiet string of curses leave Sasha's mouth at her forgetfulness. Your eyes being met with morning sun from the windows, which curtains had been forgotten to be drawn the night before. A feeling of Deja Vu at the sound of the door startling you as it had the previous night
“I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, slightly stretching from the awful position you had fallen asleep in the night before.
“You’ve been requested for breakfast,” Sasha spoke up.
Then you were hit again with reality. Like being hit by a wave, consumed, unable to breathe or regain balance. Your hopes to hide away forever within the comfort of your room were unnecessarily ruined by waking up to a request to dine. Though your stomach grumbled and you had no want to disrespect the King and Queen who had shown nothing but kindness to you in your time of utter confusion.
“After breakfast, Jean will be taking you out, like I told you yesterday. It's just a way to show you around, and give the people of the kingdom a glimpse into what is going on,” she continued on.
The tour. That's all you could think about the night before as you laid alone in the room. Being alone with him, all the time in the world for him to make those same comments without the harsh gaze from his parents. You felt stiff again.
“I’ll find something for you to wear,” Sasha spoke up again in response to you not making any move to get up. You sat up from your previous position, watching as Sasha looked through the wardrobe to the side of the room, delicately handling each dress before pulling out a blue one. It was nice, not too much, not too little, just a blue dress of silk and tulle, flowers embroidered upon its bodice.
“It's pretty isn’t it,” Sasha said, holding it out to you.
And it was, it was gorgeously sewn, looking as if hours had and probably did go into making sure each stitch was correct.
You made your way from your place on the bed, knowing no matter how much you wished and prayed that something would happen to ruin the set plans, your day was already set in stone weeks before you had even arrived. You stood straight, allowing Sasha to help you undress from the nightgown and slip into the dress, standing still as she began to fasten up the back. The girl began to circle you, a smile growing on her face.
“Pretty,” she said. Though not out of respect because you were considered her “superior”. No, the words had left her mouth in the most genuine of manners. “Oh wait, I almost forgot!”
The girl glanced around the room, before hurrying off to the vanity and opening one of the drawers. Carefully she pulled out a few metal clips, flowers engraved onto them, hurrying back to fasten them into your hair.
“It's your first time out with the public, you are gonna want to make a good first impression,” she said, making sure everything was in place. “And my mother would have my head if I didn’t make sure you look like I at least made an effort.”
You laughed at her comment, the first time that morning that your stomach didn’t twist up in what felt like a tight knot.
“Thank you,” you smiled at the girl. “I’ll bring you some of those pastries you told me about back from the village.”
The girl burst into the biggest smile, you weren’t sure how her face could muster it without hurting. With no warning, you felt her arms wrap around you tightly.
“Thank you,” she practically whispered. “You have been one of the only friends I can find in this palace. I’m glad that if my mom is making me work that I at least get to work beside you. Now let's get you to breakfast before I lose that position!”
Friend. You had a friend, you had someone. Maybe it would never be how it was before, you never would have your old life, you had tried to come to terms with that. But you did have Sasha and you were no longer completely alone.
Following Sasha out of the room, she continued her usual chatter, switching topics every few minutes, you throwing in little comments in those moments you could fit in a word. Happy you didn't have to carry the conversation with mundane and awkward small talk. Not long and you were standing in front of the same door from the night before, your stomach once again dropping at the sight. You will be fine. You will be fine. You will be fine. Don’t let him get to you. Was repeated over and over again.
“I will see you later this evening,” Sasha said with a smile. “Hope all goes well.”
Oh, how little she knew of what laid beyond that door? Little did anyone know of what you had done all those years ago. Little did you want to know how the masses would react to that discovery. Their future queen, a murderer, a monster. Pushing open the large door, you were met with the long table, yet this time absent of people. Absent of two people, and present of him. You froze in the doorway, unsure what to do. Had it taken you that long to get ready? Had you missed breakfast? But there on the table sat steaming plates, seemingly untouched. Jean sat at one side of the table, unfazed as usual, only sitting up at the sound of the door.
“You doing okay?” Jean asked at the sight of your unmoving position, his smirk returning to his face.
“I’m fine,” you stumbled out, hesitantly making your way to the table. “If you don't mind me asking, where are your parents?”
“I am not good enough company,” he asked, with no sign of joking in his tone or face.
You stiffen, not sure what to say.
“Jesus, I’m kidding, you don’t have to be so stiff all the time,” he continued. “It's not like the person you tried to murder is sitting in front of you. Oh, wai….”
You won’t be fine. You won’t be fine. He got to you again. You couldn’t speak, what were you supposed to say, how were you supposed to respond? Never in your mother's classes of etiquette did she teach you how to navigate such a situation.
“Too soon? I get it, the wound is still fresh. Okay then, we can just save this conversation for another day,” Jean said, his words never faltering like he had been practicing what he was gonna say. “You can sit if you want, no one is keeping you standing.”
You quickly sit, unsure what would happen if you didn’t. Looking down at the plate, any hunger you had previously had vanished.
“My parents thought it would be good for us to have time to get to know each other alone after what happened last night,” Jean spoke up, finally answering your first question. “Frankly I don’t know how they thought this would help. If anything, I have no one to keep me quiet.”
“Jean, it happened four years ago,” you said, finally addressing it, trying your hardest to soften the blow of the past.
“And I still have no idea why it did happen,” Jean replied. “You don’t just forget it when someone tries to kill you, especially when they are the person you are now being forced to marry. I think I deserve to at least have some explanation.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” you simply state, unsure of how to even explain it. I am sorry I tried to murder you. I had to or else my father would hold it against me for the rest of my life. Sorry, I am so selfish for attention that I couldn’t just say no, but actually attempted to go through with it. Too much for the first morning. Too much for you. Too much to get out without screwing over your words.
“I didn’t see you being held at gunpoint by someone saying you had to stab me,” he continued. “All I saw was a girl with a knife ready to go through with the twisted political stunt you were attempting to pull.”
“Do you think I wanted to do it? You think I wasn’t shaking and debating to leave that night?” You desperately asked. “Do you think I willingly went to kill you?”
“I don’t know, I don’t even know you,” he stated, coldly. “Seems from these questions that you aren’t even sure yourself.”
“Okay then, a question for you since we really do know nothing about each other?” You asked, earning a nod to continue, no nerves on his face at your request. “Why did you let me go that night? You stopped me, you could have turned me in right there, and then neither of us would be here right now.”
“You had every chance and you let me go. You let a murderer run free Jean Kirstein!” you cried out in frustration.
He seemed at a loss of words for that, as he sat back in his chair. His mouth shut, his eyes set down on the plate in front of him.
“What? Strike a nerve?” you asked, for once in that whole time being there, for once in your whole life, finally feeling like you had the upper hand. You no longer sat cowered in your seat, your move, his chess piece knocked down. “Why didn’t you turn me in? Why didn’t you end it there for me Jean? You aren’t the only one with questions, so why? I have been wondering for years-”
Abruptly the boy stood from his seat, interrupting you with his chair screeching along the floor. Him making a swift exit for the door without a single word or glance in your direction.
“I’m taking you around the kingdom, be ready outside the palace in thirty minutes or I leave without you,” Jean said, his tone monotonous and his body language closed off.
The door opened and slammed shut and you were there alone, unsure of whether you felt proud or somehow worse than you had felt before.
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