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Stay a Little Longer

by Sulova

Disclaimer: This story is based on the Ikemen royal romance game "Midnight Cinderella" created by Cybird Corporate.

I turned back when I realized that Byron had halted in the middle of the pathway. "Is anything wrong?" I asked, and he merely stood there, studying me in the growing dusk. Though we had spent the previous night talking in the library until the early hours of the morning, and I had caught his eyes many times, something about doing so now made my pulse beat high and fast in my ears.

"Byron?" I murmured, growing suddenly shy at his intense gaze. He moved toward me, and although I trembled at his approach, I stood my ground until he was less than a foot from me. The space seemed so little that I felt as though an invisible force was pulling me into him, so forbidden was that desire to be close to him. We always stood so formally, so far apart, that I forgot how tall he was until I was looking up into his eyes.

"Will you really return to Wysteria tomorrow?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. I was breathless, a little bit alarmed by his sudden expressiveness. It seemed as though his pleasant stoicism had been entirely dropped, in fact. His lips were slightly parted, and the lines of his shoulders showed tremendous tension, as though he was a bow drawn taut and about to spring. I had no idea what to do in the face of this fact, and no idea what to make of it. I tried to focus, and remember the question that had been asked of me.

"I-I think so. Giles said we would only be visiting for the week." Sadness flowed through me at that, and I couldn't help but add, "—But I've really enjoyed my time here. You have been—" (wonderful and funny and kind and absolutely breathtakingly beautiful) "—a most gracious host." I finished, my throat feeling dry.

Byron breathed, but the tension in his body remained. "Wouldn't..." he halted, and began again, "Wouldn't you enjoy spending more time here?" He asked hesitantly. His dark eyes glittered beneath his knit brows.

My heart spluttered and jumped, and I willed myself to believe that it wasn't utter sadness that I saw in his expression. "I would..." —it was so hard to maintain my composure when I just wanted to drop all the pretenses and tell him how much I wanted to stay and how much I wanted to talk with him late into the night again and again, and how much more of Stein I wanted him to show me— "but I really must attend to my duties, for the people of Wysteria."

At those words, however, Byron seemed to draw back, as though burned. A long silence spread between us, in which he said nothing, and in which I waited for him to say something, anything, because I was too afraid of what I might say. As the silence drew on, I felt the burning need to do something to stop it, so I raised my hand and placed it on his chest, and said, "Well, the sun is setting now. I should return to my chambers."

Or I would have said that, but I lost my words when I placed my hand on his chest. I had impulsively done it as though it might steady my resolve, or create some kind of firm distance between us, or something. Instead of bidding him good night, I had felt the warmth of his chest radiate through the light linen shirt he wore, and the heavy thrum of his heart beneath my fingers.

"I—" was as far as I got before my throat closed traitorously. My lips parted and I struggled for air. All I wanted to do was grip his shirt and pull him to me, but I lacked the strength to pull him in, or to let him go. I labored for words. In my panic, I met Byron's eyes and found the same expression on his face, and his recognition of the one on mine. Heat flared in my cheeks as I felt my shields, shields constructed of noncommittal smiles and polite speech, dissolve completely.

"Byron—" I tried again and failed, before Byron stepped forward, cupped my face in his hands, and pressed his lips to mine, all in one fluid motion.

I felt his heart burst into a frenzy at the same time as mine. It beat beneath my palm, which was now pressed close between our bodies. I heard my pulse thundering in my ears, drowning out the wind rustling leaves in the garden hedges around us. Byron's lips were even softer than I had dared to imagine, and trembled over mine so sweetly and so gently that I wanted to weep and laugh at the same time. Deliciously close, I heard Byron breathe shakily through his nose, pressing even closer for one more heartbeat, before the pressure faded and he withdrew his mouth from mine. His hands did not release my face, however, and when I opened my eyes that I didn't know I'd closed, I saw him still close, his lips mere inches from mine. His eyes were still closed as thought he was trying to hold on to the moment. After a second, he opened his eyes and probably saw himself, glowing warmly in the light of the setting sun, mirrored perfectly in my wide eyes.

I saw his parted lips move, and it took me a moment to understand his words, which I heard distantly at first.

"I am so sorry, Princess."

By the time I registered his meaning, he was already releasing my face and drawing away. I almost sobbed.

"Byron..." I called out through the knot in my throat. He refused to look at me, and in the light of the sunset, I realized with astonishment that it was embarrassment that I saw in his eyes. It was too much for me to bear.

"Byron." I said again, this time with certainty. He turned finally to look at me just as I fisted the fabric of his shirt in my hands and pulled him down to me as I collided with him. Our lips met, and a jolt went through me at my own audacity, but also at the sweet joy of finally, finally being able to kiss him as I had so long dreamed of doing. A second later, and I felt Byron's arms reach out to embrace me, and pull me closer. One arm wended about my waist, while the other wrapped around my back, his hand coming to cradle the back of my head. His long, graceful fingers sank into my hair there, and it was sheer bliss, just the feeling of his fingertips against my scalp. Our stomachs pressed against each other and our thighs intertwined, one of his legs slipping between mine. I drew back ever so slightly, and Byron groaned and pulled me even tighter to his body. I slipped my hands from his chest and up to wrap around his neck and shoulders, one hand diving into his soft blue-black hair, the other coming to cup his ever-straight jawline in my palm. His groan sent white-hot pleasure rippling through me, all the way to my core, and I couldn't help but moan against his mouth as the heat built inside me. I pressed into the kiss, searching, reaching for him in every way I could, and my tongue darted out to flick against his lips. He groaned again and tilted his head, his mouth opening in a hot rush as his own tongue swept out to meet mine. They tangled, slid together and apart, and then his tongue was sweeping my mouth, reaching out to me as I reached out for him.

I had never dared to believe that all of his glances, and all of his strange questions, and all of his odd expressions, and all of his uncalled for acts of kindness had been meant for me, because I had wanted so badly for it to be true. Byron and I had held up our pretenses of propriety and nobility for such a long time and tried to convince ourselves that the pretenses were who we really were. Now, all pretenses shed, I could read the utter joy and exhilaration in his mouth and hands, as surely as I felt that joy in myself.

Byron pulled away suddenly, and in the quiet of the garden, I could hear our breathing softly mingling and alternating. Somehow, the sun had fully set, and, the moon not having risen yet, we could only see each other in the scant light of the stars.

"Princess..." Byron whispered. My heart thrilled just to hear him say my name in that voice. I thought I could see his eyes glitter in the starlight as they looked at me.

"One more day," I rasped, and stopped, shocked at the hoarseness of my own voice. I coughed and cleared my throat, and the sound was too loud in the clearing. I felt a wave of embarassment at my own voice, and laughed, "Excuse me." I felt giddy, still clasped tightly in Byron's arms, my lips swollen and tender from his kisses.

"What?" Byron murmured, his own voice breaking.

I laughed at that, at the inelegance of it and the absurdity and beauty of the moment. Byron gazed at me, amazed by my laughter. When I stopped, I sank my fingers deeper into his hair and hugged him, burying my face against his neck. Tears of mirth streamed from my eyes. "I'll stay one more day," I clarified.

I felt, rather than heard his relieved laugh, in the quick fall and rise of his chest, and the vibration of his throat against my forehead. Filled with a feeling of tenderness, I lifted my face from his neck and pressed a long, tender kiss to his pulse and heard him gasp and then sigh.

"Just one more day?" He leaned away and looked into my eyes hopefully. I released his neck and settled my hands on his shoulders.

"We can talk." I smiled widely. He leaned forward again and angled his head, brushing his lips lightly from the tender spot just below my ear down across my jawline in a trailing kiss. My eyelids fluttered involuntarily and I swayed, stumbling against him again.

"We can definitely, definitely talk." I breathed, and I felt him grin as he placed another warm kiss on my lips.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed this! This was just a bit o' fluff conjured up while I was playing the game, and I thought I'd share with you all. I love Midnight Cinderella, although I characterized Byron differently here than in the game, just because I sometimes found his connection and general chemistry with the MC a little bit confusing.

Also, I have no idea if there are any of you out there who were readers of my Princess Tutu fic, "The Heart Within". If you're out there, thank you so much for all your support, and my many apologies for my years-long absence! Believe it or not, I'm still working on it, so keep an eye out. I will return!

Anyhow, thanks for reading! You're all awesome. ;)