He found her one cool October night sitting against a tree by the lake. He only watched her for a moment, examining the way she held herself, as though he thought that by learning her movements he would be able to mimic them. Because he wanted more than anything to be like her—dreamy, and free.
He approached her, but she didn't turn to face him even when he sat next to her. He leaned his head back against the cool back of the tree, and closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. She smelled like cinnamon, and freshly cut grass, and a hint of something else that he couldn't quite name. A flower.
He felt indescribably jealous of her, and unimaginably terrified of not being near her. He had to be like her, because he was falling apart. And he had been falling apart for so long.
He didn't even noticed that there were tears running down his face until he felt her small hand brush them from his cheeks. He brought his own hands up to cover his face, not wanting her to see him cry. She gently pried them away, holding them with her own, and leant forward, brushing her lips against his so softly. He had never had anything feel like this before—a visible torrent of emotion, and pain, that he wasn't being punished for. He pulled his hands from hers and wrapped them around the back of her head, pulling her closer. Her hands flitted along his arms until she found his shoulders, where she dug her small hands in forcefully.
But just as suddenly, she pulled back, and just looked at him. She ran her middle finger over his lower lip, thoughtfully, before pulling back entirely and standing. She offered him her hand and helped him up.
"I don't want you to do anything you will regret," she said quietly, looking up at him with those big blue eyes.
He shook his head quickly. "I won't, I promise."
She eyed him pensively, before shaking her head. "I don't think that is true."
A rush of anger overtook him. "Don't think you can go about telling me what I will or won't feel!" his voice deadly.
She shrugged lightly, nonchalantly brushing off his anger, before lightly intertwining her fingers in his and tugging him back toward the castle.
The blood was pounding in his ears, but he couldn't manage to bring himself to pull his hand away.