Frenchie wants...
Pairing: Marcus/Harry.
Prompt: Cross-dressing.
I could spend eternity only admiring him. He was beautiful; he was always so damn beautiful.
I knew that he would never be mine; he was destined for another. In my mind though, I am the only one truly worthy of his affections. I, Marcus Flint, am the only man who can fully appreciate every individual aspect of him. No one else watches him like I do.
He is to be married to another tomorrow. I will have to sit in the audience as an unimportant member, and watch as he is given to another who will never love him. Fate is so cruel as to give away the one I love. I was never given the proper chance to woo him. I am considered too ugly to be with someone so beautiful. I suppose you could say that I have a face only a mother could love. While he, he has a face that everyone loves to gaze upon, so lovely. It was then that I decided to gaze upon him one last time before he bacame a married man.
He looked so wonderful, sitting in the bath amongst his closest friends. It would take a trained observer to notice the unhappy glint in his eye as he talked of his upcoming wedding.
"So do you really have to wear a dress tomorrow, Harrison?" His friends giggled.
He looked so annoyed. "Of course I do. It's tradition, and I would be foolish to not follow tradition. Besides, Oliver wouldn't look good in the dress and he isn't the submissive either. Don't ask stupid questions."
I couldn't help it; I laughed. Suddenly, I was surrounded by guards and everyone in the bath was trying desperately to cover up. I had been caught gazing upon the unclothed bodies of the submissives; it was a grave offense.
"Wait!" Harrison yelled, before they could haul me off. He ran forward, covering up with a robe as he went.
He looked at me serenely, as though he knew why I was there. And maybe he did. Maybe he felt as I did; like he was going to lose his soul mate.
"I'm sorry that there is nothing I can do for you. By the time my wedding takes place, you will have long since been executed for this." He placed his hand on my cheek, caressing my face softly. "We cannot be together now," he whispered, "but I promise to find you in the next life. We will be together then. Promise me that." I nodded, even though I knew it would not happen. History was bound to repeat itself in each life; I would never get my chance with him. I could hope, but I'm not an optimist. He burned so brightly, while I was a dim light that was on the verge of being extinguished. We would never be together.
That single truth made my heart hurt.