Author's notes
Warning: Short?
Disclaimer: Don't own anything from Kyo Kara Maoh.
Taking a break from studying! Enjoy!
If there was anybody he trusted in this world the most, it was Wolfram.
The blonde was harsh and blunt but he had never lied to him. He was not the most polite of men but he never minced words.
He never told him it was going to be okay, hiding away his real thoughts with a smile like Conrad.
He didn't keep important matters from him so that he wouldn't do anything stupid like Gwendal.
He never kept secrets from him through riddles and secret words where the answers would lead him nowhere like Murata.
He never manipulated his feelings to form a bond of friendship and trust for their own agenda like Sara.
No one else would tell him what a wimp he's being. While everyone else treated him like the most fragile of pearls, the blonde would chase him with fire gathering in his hands because he sees in him what he saw in himself, someone who could do so much more if given the chance to prove himself.
He remembered when there were doubts of him reigning as the Maou. And the blonde took it on himself to dissolve the engagement and return to the Biefeld lands so that there wouldn't be any interference from his own uncle. He remembered the challenge for a duel, the betrayal he felt when he had travelled so far to convince Wolfram to return home with him. When the emotion became too strong, when he was going to attack with the intention to kill, he remembered seeing the look on his friend's face, he remembered the encouragement given in the last moments. "Yuuri. Be a good king."
The blonde was the first to demand the throne be taken away from him all those years ago but at that moment Yuuri realised how much Wolfram believed in him and his strength and he knew no one's approval would mean as much to him as Wolfram's.
If push comes to shove, he would fall with the king. If the Maou was uncertain, he'd screamed what an idiot the Maou was being to even think of abandoning his family on Earth for Shin Makoku.
But trust didn't equate to love.
So what if the thought of Wolfram leaving him made him sick to his stomach? He was sure he would feel the same for anyone else close to him if he thought about them leaving him as much as he did Wolfram.
So what if there's a throbbing below his belt when he looks at Wolfram sleeping next to him? Wolfram is beautiful, anyone would have to be dead not to feel the same when looking at Wolfram in his nightgown, the bottom of the dress riding up his creamy thighs and if they were already dead he was sure that the blonde would bring them back to life again in a heartbeat.
So what if he sometimes sat outside Greta's bedroom as Wolfram read her a goodnight story, just so he could hear the gentle love pouring from the blonde's sweet lips for their daughter? If he had closed his eyes while doing it, it was only because it was late and he was tired, not because he could imagine and pretend Wolfram speaking to him in the same way.
So what if the thought of making the blonde cry as he once did made him wish he could stab his own eyes out? Nobody else had cried for him so helplessly as they urge him to do the one thing he knew they didn't want. And he knew besides his parents, he never felt as important to someone as Wolfram made him feel as though their life would stop without him there.
So what if sometimes when their eyes met, his beautiful emerald green eyes would meet his and his heart would pound so hard that he thought it would never stop till it succeeded in bursting right through his ribcage? He was sure it had to be some sort of illness or perfume that caused him to feel that way, because it always was accompanied by some slight blindness where he could only see Wolfram and him in that room and no one else when he knew that he came into the room with it already being full of people. Sometimes he would look feverish, his face flushed red. Other times he would lose his ability to speak, his tongue tied and clammy. It had to be a condition, why else would he be that way? His situation worsens when Wolfram touches him.
All these weren't signs of him being in love though, no matter what the maids were gossiping about. Murata weren't helping matter when he informed the king that most of the times women were more in tuned to hidden feelings than men were.
So what if his mother told him that he would know when he was in love if he couldn't imagine anyone or anything else by his side except that one person? So what if Wolfram's face popped in front of him when his mother said that? It made sense really.
Why would he imagine anyone or anything else when he already has everything he needed right by his side?
It came out more drabble-y than I wanted it too. I'm taking creative writing classes and I'm warming up using my favourite couple Yuuram :D
I know it's short but please read and review!