the tortured poets department, april 19
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He kisses back, but lets himself be kissed however Henry wants to kiss him, which right now is exactly how he would have expected Prince Charming to kiss in the first place: sweet and deep and like they’re standing at sunrise in the fucking moors. He can practically feel the wind in his hair. It’s ridiculous.
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“for to the bee a flower is a fountain of life, and to the flower a bee is a messenger of love.”
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I'll take her as she is, and wed her in the tradition of our house.
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