He saved her.
He didn't say much, he didn't even ask for a simple thank you.
It would come to happen often. Every time she needed him, he was there. She'd grown confident in him, confided in him. Even in her darkest hours, she knew he'd come.
He never spoke of his feelings. He assumed his undying devotion made it clear.
But it didn't.
Without realizing it, she'd grown comfortable with the way things were. With the way he was. The worst had happened to him without it dawning on him.
He'd become her friend, nothing more.
He'd remember the day he finally saw it for what it was.
It was a party, many people from far and wide. They had even given him the special honor of escorting her into the dance hall. She was stunning that day, his heart had leapt at the sight of her.
Perhaps today she would finally speak of their relationship, of what they were? His mind raced with everything he wanted to say.
It was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown in his face when it happened.
He was walking towards her after mingling with the other party goers when he came and swept her away. A neighboring prince no less.
He'd come to find he was courting her for quite awhile. He was suave, handsome, elegant, charming...
And he had his hands on her....
He watched in stunned silence as they moved to the dance floor, their hands closely intertwined.
He'd never DARE just take her hand like that. He'd ask politely after bowing, making sure he conveyed his respect to her.
And there he was...she was laughing now...what was so funny?
He was whispering in her ear. Something that amused her.
He's running his hand up her back now....
How.....could she?
What about him?
Maybe he was overreacting....
He went to them...he would just politely cut in and ask her to dance. They had already danced more then once anyway.
It was impulsive and foolish. She told him to hang on, he would get the next dance...
He waited for her, and they danced after he left to chat up a group. Before he left he politely introduced himself. He was so charismatic...even he could not resist smiling at him....
They danced...but it wasn't like with him. She kept her distance to the point he was afraid to move his hands in the way he did..
What's happening??
He broke off after the song ended. Maybe they could talk then. He tried to get her to sit with him, she did..but she sat next to HIM....
He was telling a funny story. They were all listening intently. And by the time was done, they had all erupted into laughter.
She had her back to him the entire time, only turning back to ask him if he wanted cake or something to drink.
Did she just wrap her arm around his? Did he just squeeze her knee?
His heart had sunk. She had told him she wanted him to be there, now she was all but ignoring him.
He had tried to jump into the conversation. They humored him, she even encouraged him to tell them about such and such a time when he saved her.
He did that for me, isn't he so sweet?
Sweet? Something about the vague meaning of that word bothered him. It sounded....friendly.....
The rest of the night was an awkward blur of failed attempts at social aptitude.
The harder he tried to get her attention, the less she seemed to give.
When his brother told him he was heading home, he just silently got up and left with him.
He didn't sleep much that night. All he could think about was how he should have been that man.
It only got worse.
He would be there when he visited her now. If he wasn't she would be meeting him soon.
He stopped going then, and it was only after he grew non-responsive to her that she finally asked what was wrong.
He hadn't the heart to speak it in front of their friends, but when they were alone...and she asked him again...he confessed.
He spoke of what he thought they were, how he cared for her. Longed for her. And how he thought she felt the same.
As he saw her face falter, he knew...
She didn't feel the same.
"I love you too....but as a friend.."
He could almost hear the dagger pierce his heart. It was so loud he'd sworn she'd heard it too.
It ached, and he didn't respond to his name as he walked away.
Something stirred in him, and before he left, he turned to ask if it was him.
She hesitated. She only answered by repeating his name. Slowly, in sorrow...
"Mario...."
He had his answer.
He turned and left.
He should have said something. He never should have left things this way for so long.
What was he afraid of? Would it have hurt more to have been rejected back then and not get his hopes up? Would it hurt less then the pain he felt now?
He'd never know the answer for certain now.
After all, they were just friends.