Fakir practically jumps out of his seat, staring me down with his cheeks far more red than usual. He looks from Mytho to Rue, both of them looking rather smug, proud of themselves for this elaborate scheme. I shuffle back a bit, equally as concerned and confused.

"Is this some sick, twisted joke? Is she like a moving wax figure?" Fakir trots up to me, looking me over and pinching one of my rosy cheeks. I flutter back from his rough hands, nervously pressed to an invisible wall. Mytho chimes in, excitedly announcing.

"Nope! You two are here for a full three weeks, so get used to it, or else we are gonna have some problems!" Mytho rings brightly, though his words are very threatening. Rue and Mytho begin snuggling together on a comfortable looking dark leather couch on the other side of the room. I trot back a few more paces until my back presses against the door, desperately wanting to escape as my hand inches for the knob. Rue smiles at us both, motioning for us to sit down.

"Now you two stop being so awkward. You know each other well enough, so there's nothing wrong in spending a couple weeks together. Especially since we will make sure you two enjoy yourselves," Rue remarks, her words also a thinly veiled thread. Mytho softly kisses her brightly colored cheek, and I nervously sit in one of the plush chairs, fully taking in the rather large seating area, complete with a fireplace and ample decorum surrounding us. Fakir sits in the one opposite, not even glancing at me. Mytho watches us for a moment, before standing up with Rue and announcing that he's going to go and check on lunch. Rue follows behind him as they quickly pace into the other room. It's a long and uncomfortable silence between us, as we refuse to look at each other, not a single word exchanged.

"So…" I finally chime, not wanting to be in this uncomfortable silence any longer. "You didn't know anything about this?"

"Does that really seem like a smart question to ask right now?" His voice is shaky and brusque as he still refuses to look at me. "Of course I didn't know about any of this. If I did, I wouldn't be here right now," I look at the floor, nervously fidgeting with my dress. So that's how he feels.

"Agreed," I get a better look at him, my eyes taking him in for once. He's wearing a suave looking white button down and dark pants, making him almost look like a Prince. "You look nice today," I awkwardly add before staring back down at my feet as I internally abuse myself for the stupid comment. Of course he looks nice, Mytho probably got him those clothes just for this occasion. Aside from that, he looks nice every day. He pauses and looks at me.

"So do you," His voice is noticeably less hostile. I perk up, looking over at him. He doesn't look any kinder, but he's definitely a little less agitated at this situation. I grin over at him, watching him turn away from me to take another swig from his glass. He's still getting softer towards me, I tell myself. He glances back, furrowing his brows as he swallows. "What's with that stupid smile on your face?"

"You're being nice to me again." I wag my pointer finger at him. He groans, downing the last of his drink and staring at the door Rue and Mytho had left through, probably yearning for their return at this point.

"You read too much into things." he rests the glass against the coffee table.

"Are you sure that you being nice to me is really me just reading into things?" I stick my tongue out at him, turning to face away from him, instead looking at the windows facing the lake.

"Not necessarily, but when you have that dorky face, it's easy to see you're thinking too hard." He smirks.

"What's wrong about my face?" I squish my cheeks, staring at a family of swans swim across the lake. Fakir looks over at me, his cheeks flushed as he finally responds, sinking into his chair.

"Nothing's wrong with it. You've got…" He hesitates, thinking about his words for a moment. "You've got a very nice face, if I'm honest," He smiles at me for a brief moment. "It's very pretty," We're alone and he's sweet again. Not completely alone, but alone enough for me to see the tough exterior crumble a little. But as soon as the door even creaks, his kindness dissipates. Mytho and Rue reenter with hard boiled eggs, bread, and plenty of fruit, something that definitely shouldn't have taken them as long as they took. Rue places down the tray on the small coffee table between us all. I watch Fakir start snacking on one of the oranges.

"So, you two aren't yelling at each other yet." Mytho chimes, taking a bite of one of the bitter grapefruits. "That's a positive."

"What?" Fakir bites back at Mytho. "Were you expecting us to bicker this early on?"

"Well, you two really didn't get along until recently," Rue chimes, flashing a cheeky smile at us. "It's like you've got a soft spot for her Fakir," I can feel the sheer amount of embarrassment emanating off of Fakir as he almost chokes on his food.

"There's no soft spot anywhere in me, she's the one with all the stupid soft spots," He responds and points at me, tone flat as ever, continuing to eat. I nibble softly on one of the grapefruits, drinking the juice from it. She smiles at Fakir's anger, sauntering up to him and whispering something in his ear, resuming her place on the couch next to Mytho. Fakir sits up a bit, mouth agape as though to say something, but he shrinks back, folding his arms. "When you say it like that, anything I say will be used as fuel against me." I cock my head to Rue, coyly asking what she had said, though she just waves it off.

"It's adult things, honey, don't worry." She giggles, and Fakir slinks down further, not looking at anyone.

"I need another drink," He mutters to himself.

"You've already had two," Mytho stands up, pulling Fakir to stand. "Plus, you still need to duel me like, and if you're drunk it won't be a fair fight," I watch the boys stand up, and begin heading outside, beginning to banter and playfully argue.

"You're right, I'm better when I'm drunk, so I'll leave it as fair to you, Mytho," Fakir pats his back, and I hear them both laughing jovially as they walk outside. Rue takes my hand, leading me behind them and explaining a bit more thoroughly.

"They get into sword fights every time they're near one another." She weaves her arm into mine, pulling me next to her as we find our way outside, close to the little lake. We sit on a quaint little bench surrounded by bushes and flowers under the house's shade. Each one of the men is now wielding a sword on their hip from a selection beside the house.

Mytho pulls out the long silver sword, the hilt brandished with royal purple and gold, pointing it at Fakir. Fakir returns the gesture, though his sword is much less festive than Mytho's. Both glint and glitter in the sunlight, and Rue snuggles close to me, clearly invested.

Fakir waits, patiently smiling at Mytho, starting to circle around one another, taunting each other playfully.

"That's a mighty fine sword you have. Look's pretty, your highness." Fakir sarcastically taunts, as Mytho smirks. Mytho strikes first and I hear the loud clashing of metal against metal, clanging together. They dance against each other, swords slamming together, barely inches from each other's faces.

"Mighty fine girlfriend you have on the bench, Fakir. Are you trying to impress her? Maybe get a kiss from her after this match?" Mytho smiles as they dance, catching Fakir completely off guard. I watch Mytho as he strikes Fakir down, quickly disarming and pinning him to the ground.

"You lowered your guard for a split second," Mytho chuckles, moving his sword back and smiling as he steps back to his original position.

"You're playing dirty, that's all that it was. Catching me off guard like that," Fakir growls, standing up and demanding a round two. Rue cheers them on, leaning her head on my shoulder, cheering Mytho on.

They dance around each other again for a couple more moments. Mytho opens his mouth, though Fakir strikes shortly after. Mytho catches it, the clang of their swords ringing in the air again. My eyes widen in pure intrigue as I watch them caught in a long and powerful dance, swords clanging together loudly in the warm air. Taunts still bellow from their lungs, loud and brash and playful. It's practically indescribable how they move together. Fakir strikes again, his sword knocking Mytho onto the ground this time. Mytho smiles back up at him.

"I see," Mytho wipes his forehead and they shake hands.

"That I'm a better fighter?" Fakir chuckles, sheathing his sword.

"No, that you fight harder when your pretty girl is watching," Mytho sheaths his as well, and watches Fakir try to nervously shrug it off. Mytho stares over at me and Rue, smiling even more kindly than before.

"You just love to push my buttons, don't you?" Fakir groans to Mytho as we all start walking back inside, agreeing with him. Mytho nudges his shoulder, whispering something as Rue ambles up to Mytho, bumping Fakir behind her and thus, next to me. I watch as Rue and Mytho enter first, leaving Fakir and I alone. Looking up at him, I watch beads of sweat roll down his flushed face. His hair is messy and tossed about as his gentle hands slowly fix it. He looks down at me, smiling weakly. "I'll be back. I'm just going to change."

I nod and watch him head back inside, while I just stagnate back, wanting to look at that clear lake. Drifting myself over to the body, I let half my calves rest in the lake from the end of the pier, watching fallen leaves drift across the sleek surface, small ripples coming from their touch. My legs make ripples as well, rifts in the water as I move them back and forth, splashing lightly as cold water starts to drip down from my calves. I close my eyes, listening to the simple sounds of nature as I lay back on the warm wood. It reminds me of a simple time, a time with those ducks by the lake. When I was small and innocent, and when the world wasn't falling apart. I hear the back door reopen, sitting up and turning to look at Fakir walks towards me. He's wearing the same pants, only now it's complimented by a dark blue shirt. As he sits beside me, I scoot away from him, not wanting to make him feel claustrophobic, though he waves off my hesitation.

"I'm not gonna bite you, no need to scamper off, Duckling." His voice is calm. "Mytho and Rue are going out for food and other things, and urged me to stay outside with you so you don't drown, or something." He looks out onto the lake as he cuffs his pants and dipping his bare calves down into it, smiling as the waves lap over one another. I push against his shoulder playfully.

"You act like I can't swim," I tease him watching him wobble back into place.

"If it's you, you'll definitely find a way to either hurt yourself or die, no matter what it is." He laughs, making my heart sing. I laugh back, if not to simply hear him continue. "You're probably just as buoyant as an anchor," I lean over the pier, watching our reflections distort in the ripples.

"Wanna bet then?"

"Bet on what? You not being able to swim?"

"What else?" I offer, standing with my back facing the water. He thinks about it for a long moment, shrugging his shoulders.

"Why not? If you drown it's not my fault," he lays his back on the warm wood of the pier.

I smile, leaping into the cold water. I submerge myself under the water for a bit, my bangs and braid floating freely underneath. As I open my eyes, I notice how clear the water truly is, letting small bubbles of oxygen float to the top of the water from my lips. I let myself swim around in bliss before popping my head above the water, smiling at Fakir. He blinks at me, watching me swim and smirking at me. He folds his arms and leans down close to my face.

"I'll be damned. You're comfortable down there, aren't you?" He mutters to me, lifting my chin by his thumb and forefinger ever so lightly. I giggle and pull back, gently tugging on his ankle.

"Come on in, the water is great!" I smile up at him, though he moves his leg out from the water.

"I'd prefer not to, I've already had one shower, no need for a bath." He remarks, coldly. I grimace and pull my top half onto the wooden planks, pulling my dress off and holding it out to him.

"Can you at least take this from me? I don't want to ruin it," I groan, still trying to reach it. Fakir grabs hold of it, ready to pull it from me. Though as soon as we both hold onto the fabric, I submerge him down in the water with me. I watch, my face halfway under the water, smiling at him. He glares me down but acquiesces, pulling me underwater with him. I watch him start swimming towards me and I dip underwater playfully, trying to avoid him. Fakir pulls me back to him, grabbing hold of my bare thigh from under the water and turning me to face him. He's grinning, his cheeks red and his hair floating everywhere. I smile back at him as he pulls us up, gasping for breath. His hand is gently running over mine and itching to hold onto mine.

"You're a demon sometimes," He groans in high-spirits, pulling hair away from his face so he can see me clearly. I rest my hand in his palm, twining our fingers together. "You know that, right?" He squeezes it, his other hand holding the small of my waist. I feel his chest against mine, pressing against my clingy bra. I squeeze his hand back, leaning myself up a little bit. His breath is sweet, that hint of rum just barely even on his lips. I smirk up at him, my free hand holding onto the back of his neck.

"Oh trust me, I'm very much a devil," I coo, sticking out my tongue at him. I feel Fakir pull us under the wooden pier, staying out of sight from the house. I peer my head over as Fakir does the same. I don't see anyone in the house. "What are we looking for?"

"I don't trust them not to try and watch us. They live for this sort of thing." His growl is sexual, almost. I feel a tingle run up my spine, starting to inch a bit closer to him. His hands squeeze again.

"What sort of things?" I feel his hand move up my spine, hand climbing up under my bra. His gentle fingers start tugging at it, making my face burn up even brighter. He leans in a bit closer to my face, tilting my head a bit. He releases his hand and my bra strap smacks hard against my back, making me squeak and scamper away. He snickers, swimming up from under the pier and starting for the house.

"I want you to take a wild guess." His voice rings clear as I watch him walk onto the grass, dripping wet as his clothes stick to his toned body. I lurk just barely above the surface, watching his clothes cling to him, emphasizing every little muscle. I lurk below the water for a bit for the blue dress I had worn just earlier. I bob up to the surface, gasping for air, before plunging back down to look for it again. But it's nowhere underwater that I can see. Popping my head back up, I shout at Fakir who's now shirtless.

"Hey, could you um… Maybe get me a towel or something..?" My voice is sheepish. He raises an eyebrow to me.

"Why? You can dry off when you get inside." He remarks, removing his pants as well and placing them on the bench. His boxers cling even tighter to his skin and I immediately look away, not ready to be confronted with that kind of definition. My face burns brightly as I step out, letting him see my pale, shivering, and nearly nude body, only censored by the clingy underwear I have on.

"I lost that dress." I sheepishly cover my breasts, feeling the cold air against me, making my own underwear cling to me. For once he doesn't look away from me as if I'm an embarrassment to the female figure. Instead just staring for a good few moments, his cheeks rising to a light shade of pink. He gulps before quickly jogging inside, trying his best not to look at me anymore.

"I'll be back with that towel you wanted." I hear the door slam behind him and I slip back into water, at the very least masking my figure to a degree. I move my hands around under the water, making small waves into the water and watching my ripples affect the small leaves drifting across, watching them tremble up and down. I hear the back door open, with a pair of loose fitting pants and a tight shirt on, now carrying a towel towards me. I reach out and thank him as I wrap it around my figure.

"You need to be careful with that," Fakir chuckles as I tightly wrap the warm and soft blanket over myself.

"Careful with what? The body of a twelve year old?" I snicker and start for the house.

"What?" He's seemingly taken aback by my comment, sweetly responding. "No, you've grown into a very mature body that suits you. Be careful with that power." I slow down a bit to look at him, my face burning red.

"You sure you're the real Fakir?" I stand on my toes and squeeze his cheeks with both my hands, pulling his hair away and tucking it behind his ear. He smirks and rolls his eyes as we head up the stairs.

"Oh no, you've caught me. I'm really some complete stranger who's into little ginger girls. Let me show you my private room." Fakir smiles, as we head down the same short hallway. I stop in front of my door, staring up at him.

"I knew it," I giggle, opening up my door a peek. "Where's your room, Mister Not-Fakir?"

"Right here." He knocks on the door behind him, labelled 'Guest Room 1'. I peek behind him.

"Mind if I see the inside?"

"What, so you can come inside and pester me in my sleep again?" He opens his door anyway, letting me step inside of the much darker room, though still relatively similar to mine. The only real differences are the bed (no longer a canopy, instead having dark red sheets and grey pillows), and a long row of swords next to the large, dark brown bookshelf. Looking around, I feel Fakir snap my bra strap again, making me squeak again. "Now show me yours,"

I stick my tongue out at him, but lead him into mine, returning the favor he gave me. I step into my bathroom as he looks around the room, pulling off my soaked bra and panties while facing away from him, before stepping into the short nightgown and clean panties that Rue had left me. So she must have at least seen me jump into the lake, which means she might know I'm.

"Looks pretty. I'm gonna guess Mytho designed it," I hear Fakir from the doorway, though his voice isn't directed at me. Looking back at him, I see him starting to pull away through the see-through canopy. He lays himself on my bed, his legs hanging off. I watch the bottom of his shirt lift up a slight amount, seeing a trail of soft, dark hair trailing up to his naval. In my mind, I want to kiss those pronounced hips that peek out from his pants. Touch his soft skin and explore what's underneath all those tight clothes. I shake my head, looking at his wistful eyes, beckoning me to lay with him.

"You seem off, something wrong?" Fakir sits up. Inside my mind I'm screaming, wanting to tell him everything I had just been thinking about. But I don't, instead just laying down on my stomach beside him.

"I'm just having weird feelings, in all honesty," The bed pulls me into it, friendly arms snuggling me into their tight grip. He turns my head to face him, curious as to what I mean.

"Oh?" He pushes hair from my face. "Can you describe what they feel like?" His fingers trace around my jaw. I swallow a hard lump in my throat. Should I tell him? Should I just be honest about how I feel right now? Last time I did that was an astounding rejection, that I still don't know how to feel about. I look up at him, those green eyes glinting in the weaning light. Something honestly kind in those eyes.

"It's a really warm feeling in my chest. It's between my legs sometimes too. But it's just… It never goes away, really." I murmur, turning so as not to look at him, trying not to reveal too much. He starts undoing my braid, combing through the red threads with his fingers, letting all of it flow down my back.

"Uh-huh. And is that it?"

"Well, it only really happens when I do anything with this one person. Or when I think about them. And I wish it would go away a lot of the time." I stay silent for a few moments, trying not to look at him. I hear him stand up, closing the door, and returning to our positions before. His fingers run through my hair again, the very tips trailing against my back. A tingle runs up my spine, and this time he notices it.

"Does it make you feel good at all?" His voice is suddenly smooth and suave, ringing in my ear like a bell. There's that warm feeling in my chest, just like I described, glowing and beating like a drum. And right beneath his fingers, I know he's pulling the strings to it. Not maliciously, though. He's egging it on, wanting to know more.

"A little bit," I downplay it as much as I can, turning my gaze to him. He's smiling, his fingers playing with my heartstrings a little more.

"Well, maybe you should tell that person how you feel. I'm sure they'd understand,"

"Words wouldn't be able to describe it well enough. Besides, Anty says that it's a lot better to show people how you feel rather than say it," I flip myself over, staring up at him fully. He looks at me, puzzled and a bit concerned.

"While I agree with the sentiment, I don't trust how she probably means it." Fakir brushes more loose strands, his smile more of a thin frown, pulling at the edges of his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, how did she describe 'showing how you feel'?" He asks, making my face flush a bright red. I can't tell him that she just described how to give head or handjobs. That's weird. Fakir raises an eyebrow.

"Just like… I dunno, doing favors when that person feels bad." I turn my face away yet again, shrugging off his comment as my fingers start lacing through my hair. I'm all tingly again, why am I tingly? His hand presses against my thigh and I freeze.

"Like, sexual favors? Handjobs, blowjob's, sex?" He leans over top of me, his warm gentle hand sliding up and tugging at the hem of my nightgown. My face begins feeling feverish.

"So what if that was what she said? There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" I sigh, folding my arms. His hand slides over my dress, before running one down my arm, then both hands running down my arms. He fills in little spaces between my fingers as our hands meet with his, leaning himself over top of me, straddling his hips over mine.

"You do know that showing affection isn't just sex, right?" His hands squeeze mine, kissing my knuckles and watching me. I stare, wide eyed and confused.

"But, that's how most people show their affection, right?"

"Sometimes. But sometimes it's just holding hands, small conversations, enjoying each other's company. Small things like that." Fakir smiles, letting go of both of my hands, heading towards his room. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to take a shower thanks to you and your games."

"Thanks to me?" I tease, watching his hips again. The brief glance I had at those tight boxers makes my imagination run wild. He turns around, smugly watching me.

"You dragged me into that water, of course it's thanks to you." He smiles and closes my door. "I'll get you if Mytho and Rue aren't home by dinner, so don't worry about starving. Just don't expect much cooking out of me,"

Smiling, I slip my fingers back together, trying to recreate the mingling sweetness of him holding my hands. That tender squeeze of my hands. I squeak and bury my face into my pillow. Thrusting myself under the covers, the warm bubbling feeling doesn't go away. It's pressed like a warm ball squishing between my thighs, laying me face down and spread-eagle into my sheets. Hand holding? That's all it takes to turn me on at this point? I groan into my pillow, trying not to think about it.

Laying there, I manage to reduce the sensitive shivers to nothing more than small tingles in my toes. I still feel his gentle hands pulling through my hair, his fingers trailing down my back, barely away from the small of my back. He's teasing me isn't he? Is he trying to tempt me? He keeps coming very close to kissing me, and I can't help but want to reach up and do it myself the next time he tries it. I sit and adjust my gown a bit.

With some minor internal trepidation, I step myself out of bed, sliding my feet against the hardwood floor. I pull my en pointe shoes out, slipping them each onto my feet and lacing them up neatly. As I find my position, I take a long and deep breath. It's time to try my best once again. My feet carry me across the floor, as my nightgown flutters around me.

I am the Beauty, and my heart belongs to the beast. His exterior is hard, rough, uncomfortable to hold close for a long time. But inside he is gentle, kind, affectionate. He just needs the right person to let him open up. He just needs someone to show him affection. Not to fix him, since there's nothing wrong with him. Instead, to love him for who he is regardless of his flaws, his rough exterior, the outer shell he shows to people, and for both of us to flourish into better people. I start my fouette, pivoting over and over again. I keep going, counting each one in my head and under my breath. It doesn't take very long until I feel dizzy and sick, starting to stumble back. A pair of hands reaches underneath my arms, keeping me from falling on my back. They're gentle as they catch me.

"Easy, easy. Don't hurt yourself, there." His voice drifts into my ears, and I'm pressed against his body. My stomach turns and I feel myself keep stumbling back. "Hey, you're okay. Easy does it," He lifts me up to my feet again, adjusting my nightgown. Fakir steps back into the doorway and I smirk at him, still a little dizzy. His hair is slick with dripping water, while a towel drapes over his shoulder, still wearing the same outfit from earlier.

"How long have you been here?" I resume first position, and I feel his hands help straighten me out.

"Long enough to know you still don't remember proper form." He steps back, letting me resume my dance, watching me until he interrupts again. "Is this really your final?"

"I'm trying my best," Stepping out of position, I shrug and pull out the notes I made from my backpack. "I'm trying to do my dance based on Beauty and The Beast," He pulls them from my hand and reads them from his place in the door, raising an eyebrow. He glances over to me, looking me up and down.

"Seems kind of complex for you, don't you think?"

"If I get really into it, I know I can do it. I've done it before." I stand firm and smile wide, my hands planted on my hips. Fakir smiles and saunters towards me.

"Let me at least help you then, so you don't fall and crack your skull open." He stands behind me, placing the paper on top of my backpack, and holding my waist. Finally, I remember whose hands held me steady in my room when I danced alone. Fakir's chest presses against my back, his hands keeping me still in his grip. His hands taking in every inch of my body as we dance in the large room. It reminds me of The Prince and The Raven performance. He was this gentle back then too.

"Alright, now," He smiles and places my feet in position for my fouette. "Keep your eyes on me until you can't any longer. Now turn."

I was going to listen, whether he said that or not. The world starts to blur when I look away from him. One, two, three… I feel myself become dizzy around the thirteenth one, falling into his arms. He catches me and holds me close to his chest. His heart isn't still at all as it's pressed to my ear. It's rapidly pounding in his chest, slamming my own into my throat. I look up at him, the rest of the room spinning around us. Maybe it was just from me being dizzy, but I pretend it's because he's the only thing that matters. He stands me back up on my feet, smiling as those green eyes pull me in.

"You're being nice to me again," I wrap my arms over his shoulder, I feel him press his forehead against mine, our lips getting closer and closer by the moment, still looking into each other's eyes. He smiles and gently rubs the tips of our noses together.

"I know." That smooth, silky voice. So vulnerable and raw in this moment. This is who Fakir is, in all glorious kindness.

"Should I show you how I feel, like how we were saying earlier?" I gulp, forcing my heart down my throat, even though I know he can feel it throbbing against him, in my fingertips and my chest. He pulls his face back for a moment, looking down at me and keeping a silence for a moment.

"Are you sure you want to trust me?" He mutters very softly, a hint of concern in his throat. I return the little Eskimo kisses, nodding my head very gently, hesitant to say no now that I'm in this deep.

"You're really playing with fire, you know that?" He moves a bit closer.

"I know," I smile, leaning up a bit more, able to taste his sweet breath, the slightest hint of rum against my lips. I feel as his hands sweep me up, holding me bridal style in his arms, making me shriek, holding onto him tighter. He carries me into his room, laying me on his bed and towering above me. My heart starts pounding as he finally leans down, fingers running through my hair as he kisses me. Every little cell in my body is now dedicated to this kiss. I run my fingers through his hair, trying to be as close as possible to him, as his hands weave underneath my nightgown.

As we keep kissing, he pulls my hips to the edge of the bed, lifting my dress up just a bit to ogle the soft pink panties I'm wearing. Pulling away and looking down, I notice something pushing from inside his pants. He gently presses his hips against mine, and I feel it flex a few times, sending a jolt through my spine. I freeze up as I stare up at him, nervously gulping. I don't know if I'm ready for this, but I'm already chest deep in this, aren't I? I hide my face into Fakir's shoulder, desperate to not show any hesitation, not to even hint I want out. I'd just be a tease then. His hands pull out from under my nightgown and his hips pull away from mine, instead just gently kissing me again. Soft, still emotional and loving.

"You're a real idiot sometimes, you know that?" He says lightly, laying beside me on his bed, letting his head rest on the sheets.

"I'm not an idiot!" I nervously try and retort, fidgeting with the hem of my dress.

"You were about to have sex that you didn't want. Don't you think that's a little dumb?" His voice is still light and loving as he twirls my hair around his finger. I huff and my cheeks flush even brighter reds.

"I wanted it!"

"No, you don't." I think it over for a moment, shrinking into his side as I whisper into his shirt.

"Maybe not that, but I want something with you…" I feel my stomach overload with butterflies. What did I mean by that? What does he think I want now? Fakir turns his body to face me, his hand trailing up my thigh. I do my best not to hesitate.

"If you're so adamant, we'll do 'something'. But it'll be baby steps for you." He stands over me again, squeezing my inner thigh tightly. I cup a hand over my mouth, though I feel his own free hand pulling it away and gently kissing me, to muffle me better as his other hand presses against my panties, gently starting to rub against my clit through the soft fabric. Shiver after shiver runs up my spine, making me weaker to his touch. His tongue opens my mouth up and suddenly there's a strange ecstacy coursing through me. He pulls away to look down at me, slipping aside my underwear, leaving me a little cold.

"I'm just going to put my finger in. Is that okay?" He seems to be sweating just as much as I am, and my cheeks turn a brighter red. I gulp and nod my head.

"Just be gentle with me, okay?" I say, timidly. His middle finger slips inside, filling a void I didn't know I had. It's gentle and firm as he thrusts it, hooking against a sensitive little spot as he pumps very gently back and forth. Another sexual rush runs through me, though I feel my body tense up around him. His lips press against my collar, softly sucking on my pale skin. His free hand manages my bare clit, softly massaging it. My own hands gripping onto the bed, unsure what else to do with them as the pleasure overwhelms me.

This is so much better than when I thought about it all on my own, when I was just pretending he was there. His hands are far more experienced than I gave him credit for. I whimper into the increasingly warm air, moans and hushed curses slipping past my lips as I feel myself verging, barely on the cusp of an orgasm. Fakir's lips move up to my neck as I whimper a bit louder.

"Fakir, I'm gonna…" I murmur as butterflies fill my stomach. He rubs my clit a bit faster, his other hand still pushing in and out of me.

"Come on, Ahiru. Please cum for me," He desperately pleads as I hold onto his back, tensing up against his fingers, cumming all over those gentle and rhythmic fingers. The surge of butterflies through my stomach makes me moan a lot louder than I feel I should have, but I can't help it. My knees want to knock together instinctively, to keep his hands there for the long few seconds I last, moaning out his name into the air.

He pulls his fingers away from me, smiling down as he licks them clean. My face burns brightly and I begin panting anxiously, curling up on his bed in embarrassment as I bury my face into his pillow. He chuckles and pats my back lovingly, laying beside me as I recover from the intense sensations in my entire body.

"I didn't expect that." I huff and shiver, staring at his pillows in a daze. I actually came from him touching me. His fingers were actually inside of me, and it felt good. I turn to look at him, watching him as he smiles.

"What? To cum?" He snickers. "What were you expecting? For it to be painful?" He pulls me into his arms as I'm snuggled into his chest, letting his pounding heartbeat be an indication of how he feels.

"I guess. I just didn't expect you to… I dunno, actually get to do it." I snuggle my face into his chest, trying to hide the shades of red I know that I am. His lips press against the top of my head, kissing me yet again.

"Well, stuff like that isn't supposed to hurt. And yeah, you got to do it. It's a lot less scary now, isn't it?"

"Mhm," I wrap my arms over his sides, snuggling tighter into him. "Did it mean anything to you?" I turn my head to look up at him, watching him shrug.

"Well, what do you think? Do I seem like the playboy type?" Fakir pushes hair out of my face. I snuggle my head into the palm of his hand, ready to answer, to spill my heart out to him. Though I hear the front door of the house open, and Fakir groans at the inconvenience. He runs a hand through his hair, standing us both up. "I'll come into your room after dinner, okay? We can talk more then." He promises me, holding up his pinky to me. I smile and wrap mine around his, promising it. He fixes me up a little, going to open his door when there's a knock on the other side. Both of us freeze as Mytho opens it up.

"Fakir! We're back, and we need your help with dinner, please!" Mytho doesn't even seem to be phased by my presence in Fakir's room, or that the door was previously shut. He just smiles at both of us holding up a cloth bag with fruits and vegetables. I nervously grin at him watching as Fakir just lets out a long sigh.

"Are you telling me you need me to slice things again?"

"Not necessarily." Mytho muses, beckoning him downstairs. Fakir follows behind him. "But yes, I do."

"You can sword fight like a true prince, and yet you slice your fingers every time you even try to cut anything other than test dummies." Fakir playfully groans to Mytho, with me following behind them closely. I watch Fakir turn to face me, smiling at me. And I smile back at him, a genuine smile that I can see makes his chest tighten from how sweet it is. He seems blissfully unaware of how much I like him. And, to a small and sad degree, I hope it stays that way.