"My love," Prince Hugo whispers, intoxicated by a single look in Princess Sofia's direction. His eyes trace the outline of her bare body and the words on his tongue dissolve; she leaves him breathless— a smitten wreck of a man.

The lamp on the bedside table illuminates her pale skin. Orange-tinted light runs down her body like honey, liquid ambrosia. The scars that litter every inch of her look like scribbled words on thick parchment; a document that would look regular to any eye other than an appraiser's.

Prince Hugo could watch her forever; she's heaven, bathed in rings of blissful sepia. Easy on the eyes is this woman; broken by the world and strong enough to put it back together again, Princess Sofia looks as though she were carved from stone by only the most talented of artisans.

At hearing the title that she has held for more years than she can count, she looks at him from behind her shoulder. Waves of fiery-red crash and simmer against the shores of her scarred flesh as her eye meets his.

Her face softens, and he bears witness to it. It's an event that causes his chest to swell with something familiar; she gives it to him, and he's addicted. Adoration blossoms in his veins as he watches the edges of her lips perk up just so— deep red, he yearns for them.

Rather, Prince Hugo yearns for her. His body cries out for every inch of hers; he watches her and wants, wants, wants like he's a starved man. He knows how well their bodies fit; they're pieces of a puzzle, destined to be joined together.

Her lips press together slightly, one of her eyebrows cocked in interest. Princess Sofia catches his gaze and wraps her finger around it, pulling him in further.

She drives him insane with desire.

Her eye is the only thing upon his body; he's at his most vulnerable here, and she is too. This little tango is forged on trust, on a love sweeter than nectar, on a relationship stronger than the mere red string of fate.

Her eye takes him in; studies him like she's reading a book. His cheeks flush under the lamplight, under her tender gaze.

His lips part, poised to mouth a longing beg.

'Come here.'

Prince Hugo can't tell if the words leave his throat; he's far too focused on her body, the glint of true love in her beautiful, singular eye. Everything else falls apart, awash in between her beautiful, calloused hands,

He longs to hold them.

Princess Sofia reacts; a domino being pushed down. She turns towards him, and her face takes on a shade of rosy, soft loving. Her eye relaxes, morphed into a crescent of tenderness.

She answers his call, indulges his desire. Every footsteps she takes is a marking in sand, a pull on their binding red string; they are meant for each other, in every fathomable way. He is an extension of her, as she is to him; there is no Prince Hugo without Princess Sofia. There is no Princess Sofia without Prince Hugo. They are both of them or they are nothing at all.

By the time Princess Sofia reaches the bed his head feels dizzy; she's too gorgeous for words, too perfect to be human, but too human to not be enticing. Princess Sofia doesn't even try, nor does she have to; just the look of her sends his heart into overdrive. Prince Hugo looks at her from above the rim of his reading glasses; in the fogginess of his once clear vision, her figure is a beacon of light.

A gentle touch of her smooth skin breaches his outer thigh; slowly, Prince Hugo lays himself back, making room for her, right where she likes to be. He tilts his head back against a pillow, in an attempt to view her through his small lenses. Her laugh is an accompanying track to the comforting weight that she will bring upon his love-hungry body.

"Still not gonna take those off, huh?" It's a playful jab; they've danced this routine before, and Princess Sofia asked the question several times, and his answer remains the same.

"I want to see you," Prince Hugo replies, as he has every time; the repetition does not kill the passion behind his words. "Every part of you, as clearly as I can."

Princess Sofia doesn't reply— she doesn't have to. Prince Hugo knows her very well enough to spare her the embarrassment, to know that she trusts him enough to be open, to be soft and kind and sweet on him; she will give him the part of her that she tries to hide, and Prince Hugo will protect it at all costs.

Their skin meets; a clashing of her cold flesh and his warmth. It's electrifying; his back presses into the mattress as she settles atop him. Her hip bones meet his lower stomach, prodding gently at his expanse of muscle. Her stomach and lower ribs connect with his chest, her breasts meeting his pecs; they fit together like they were always supposed to be like this.

Her thighs straddle him as her hand grabs the space beside his head, finding purchase on a soft, linen pillowcase. Princess Sofia looks at him, uses that pretty eye of hers to drink him in. Prince Hugo finds himself blushing as her gaze sweeps from his eyes to his lips, to even farther down. He sighs, a soft, passionate thing; he can feel her breath on his lips. Her hair is a curtain of brown around him; it falls from her head and lays across his pillow. A soft, fiery lock brushes his cheek.

The following exchange is wordless. Prince Hugo cocks an eyebrow and stares at her with his passionate sincerity and Princess Sofia nods her head with a smile; the word 'please' is etched into the smile across her face.

His right hand skims over her hip, journeying to the small of her back. Prince Hugo longs to hold her as close to him as he possibly can, blurring the lines between which one of them is which. His left hand, however, reaches up and cups the side of her face. The pad of his thumb gently glides over her blushed cheek.

"Have I told you how much I adore you?" Prince Hugo asks, voice calm and quiet. He knows she can taste his sentences on her lips.

Princess Sofia laughs a bit; her breath fans over his cheeks. "Every day," she replies. "You've gone soft."

"Only for you," Prince Hugo whispers. His eyes cannot stay away from her one; the look within her pupil is fascinating; dripping with desire. "All I've ever wanted is everything you are, my dear."

"Sappy," Princess Sofia remarks, though her words don't fool him, not when Prince Hugo can almost hear her rapid heartbeat, not when he loses himself in that gorgeous smile of hers.

Prince Hugo traces a small circle into the flesh of her back, while memorizing her face with his thumb. He can't help but be this way when it comes to her; Princess Sofia is the moon and the sun and all the stars in the sky. She is beautiful in a way that no one could ever fathom being; his Sofia, his beloved Sofia.

The feeling of her bare body pressed against his is enough to put his mind on the bender. Prince Hugo wants her like a fish needs water; he craves every last inch of her. He'll say it until he can't talk, until every breath from his lungs is spent on saying her name— that beautiful symphony of a sound accompanying the attention of an even more beautiful woman.

Nights like these are few and far between; their jobs leave them cold, exhausted, and apart from each other for much longer than they could ever survive. Tonight, it was different— wordless. Prince Hugo caught the look in her eye, and she relished in the way his arm had never left her waist. It was all subtle indications that no other person could possibly read, and in the privacy of their bedroom, they don't try to hide it— don't have to, not at all.

"I love you, Sofia."

It's not the first time he's ever said it and it most certainly won't be the last, but the words are sweet on his tongue, just like she is. The sentence is satisfactory to the heart in his chest that she controls; he loves her, loves her, loves her as if he's going to lose her.

"I love you so much— to the moon and back." Prince Hugo doesn't miss the way Princess Sofia snorts at his striking romanticism. He loves that laugh. It's adoring, a beautiful, enticing thing, just like the rest of her.

"That far?" She asks, almost sarcastically.

Prince Hugo smiles. "That far." Then, as he considers it; "And even further. I'd go to the ends of our world if you asked, my dear."

The warm light from the bedside lamp illuminates her intoxicating features in a wash of faint orange. "I know you would," Princess Sofia replies, happily; it's not always an easy emotion to read on her, but Prince Hugo knows her like the back of his hand. Her hand finds its way into his hair; her dexterous fingers play with the tips of his short brown locks. "But you wouldn't be alone. I go where you go."

Prince Hugo knows it— it's the mantra of his heart; the one that she calls her home— but hearing it fall from her lips makes his heart throb. He wants to love her with every part of his being; wants to give her the world with his own body. Every part of him craves to pleasure her, to feel her; he wants her more than anything he's ever been tempted with. Princess Sofia is sweet and addictive and enthralling; she is a drug and he's an addict.

His heart pounds as Princess Sofia gives him a faint smile. It creases the sides of her face, putting gentle marks beneath her eye. It's such a good look on her, this feeling called love; it makes him feel weak.

Prince Hugo watches her lips press together ever so slightly. "I love you too, Hugo." Sincerity taints her words, drips from her tongue. He envisions lapping it up, using his lips to clean her own, to leave love behind on her flesh, but Princess Sofia steals his mind away with a strong, passionate kiss.

She's wonderful with her lips; she kisses him like she's trying to pull the oxygen from his lungs. Prince Hugo surrenders to her because it's so easy to do so; Princess Sofia always knocks down the walls to his heart and he'll never rebuild them, not when he has her in his life. She is the best part of him, a blessing he doesn't deserve. He succumbs to her.

"You're thinkin' too much," Princess Sofia mumbles against his lips, when she comes up for air. Prince Hugo chuckles, his fingers working further up her jaw. They tangle themselves ever so slightly in her hair.

"I was thinking about you," he admits. He lays his palm flat against her skin. "About this." Her body relaxes under his ministrations.

"Yeah?" Princess Sofia asks, though she likely knows she doesn't need to; she can read every lustful thought that springs to his mind with just one look of her eye into his. He's an open book for her, always has been. "Anything specific you wanna share?"

God, his heart yearns for her!

Prince Hugo looks up at her with half-lidded eyes as his body instinctively lays more slack against the mattress. "You're so wonderful, Sofia." He sighs the words, parrying them to her with a single breath from his lips. His thumb slowly caresses her lower cheekbone. "You make me mad with adoration."

Princess Sofia doesn't interrupt him. He knows that she enjoys hearing his words of praise, for she refuses to give herself any; a condition that surprises the dancer greatly. After all, how could someone so beautiful not know it?

If she will not give herself any praise, will continue to refuse that Princess Sofia is, perhaps, the most lovely thing on the face of this tarnished Earth, then the job falls to Prince Hugo. He takes it with pride; he understands his task and devotes himself to her— he always has. It's so difficult to refrain from worshipping her.

Lucky him; he doesn't have to.

His body reaches out for her. "I can't live without you, my dear." Her eye flickers down to meet his and Prince Hugo gets drunk off of the sparkle of embarrassment and pride within it. "Not for a moment."

Her hand tangles in his brown hair as Princess Sofia leans against him, allowing herself the comfort of relying on him. "Then don't," she replies, the words rolling off her tantalizing tongue. Prince Hugo doesn't process sliding his large hand behind her head until he feels his lips on hers, noticing that he's pulled her close.

He can't tell which of them started the kiss, not when her fingers tug at his locks so gently, when Princess Sofia pants against his lips, pressing into him with an eager desperation he's only familiar with, because of her. Her lips are slightly slicked down with a mix of a slightly sweet lip balm and his saliva; with all the grace of a dog, he revels it in. Prince Hugo enjoys tasting her, wants all of her as soon as he can have it.

He feels her teeth graze the bottom of his lip and his mouth parts like clockwork. Prince Hugo steals a breath from her mouth as her nose rubs against his, knocking his glasses askew. Her tongue makes its way into his mouth and traces along his molars, the roof of his mouth, all with the pace of a tourist; she's enjoying him, taking her time, as if it's the first time she's ever had him.

He lets her, of course he does. Prince Hugo likes any night with her, whether his hips are being driven into the mattress with fervor or whether he gets to gently kiss her stomach and chest in a hazy blur of aftershock. But moments like these, where they get to savor each other like the first night they tried it, like they're learning each other's bodies for the first time, might be Anji's favorites.

Princess Sofia's fingers tighten their grasp on his hair as he meets her tongue with his. He allows it to rub against hers, tasting smoke and sake on it. A noise flows up from her throat, rolling off of her lips and into his mouth; a noise that sends Prince Hugo's mind between his legs.

Princess Sofia catches his desire, as his hand isn't difficult to read. She captures his upper lip in a kiss of fervent lust, catching him off guard enough to still massage the tip of his tongue with hers. Prince Hugo groans into her mouth, and gently tightens his grasp on the back of her head in a moment of urgency.

"Oh, my dear," Prince Hugo gasps, when they both are drained of breath. Her forehead touches his; she's so close that he can still taste her. "Let me take care of you tonight."

Princess Sofia pulls away from him for a moment, looking down at him with hungry eyes. Both of their chests are heaving, rubbing against one another with a relaxed urgency. "You take care of me every night," she replies, in a tone so quiet and gentle that it would seem uncharacteristic to anyone but the Princess.

Prince Hugo looks up at her, feeling rampant desire course through him with every glance he takes. "Let me take care of you in bed," he clarifies, watching color fill her cheeks; it matches the curtain of hair that dangles down from her head. "I want to pleasure you."

There's a bit of hesitation in her voice, contradicted by the sharp blush across her cheeks. Silence carries between them for a moment as Princess Sofia struggles to find the right words to say to him. "Yes," is what she settles for.

She doesn't admit it often, doesn't like to expose herself to such emotions, doesn't want to appear desperate, but he knows that his offer entices her; that she loves him and wants him all the same.

Princess Sofia gives her a gentle smile as she leans down to kiss him once more. Her lips are soft weapons, dishing pleasant blows upon his mouth. It's fervent, the way she kisses him; slow but hungry. Prince Hugo puts both of his hands behind her head, as if touching her hair might ground him, as if holding her head will give her every inch of love she deserves.

She holds onto him too; with an eye closed and cheeks aflame, it seems that her want is almost too much to bear. Prince Hugo lightly sucks on her upper lip, before Princess Sofia tugs him in, capturing his lips in several fast, savoring, ravishing kisses.

His heart is hammering as she pulls away; he gulps down air to make up for all that she's stolen from him, as her head bows down, resting against his collarbone.

"What would you like me to do?" Prince Hugo asks, feeling her panting against both his stomach and his nape. Princess Sofia sighs for a moment, as if to regain herself.

"Kiss me," Princess Sofia says, after a few moments of breathing him in. A droplet of sweat rolls down his temple, as she lifts her head up, looking directly at him with hazy desire.

Prince Hugo smiles at her, dizzy with love. "Where?" He asks. Her eye shuts, and her lower back curves against his; their bodies are so close, they practically look combined.

"Anywhere," Princess Sofia responds, in a huff of warm breath— they've been sharing it for the past few minutes. Prince Hugo lifts his hands from her hair and hovers them just above her bare hips.

"May I?" He asks, looking up into her eye with a gentle sincerity.

She huffs. "Hugo, I swear, if you don't, I'm going to—mmnph!" Prince Hugo steals the request from her tongue with a sly maneuver of his lips and a touch of his hands against her hips. He rubs his palms against her lower stomach and upper thighs, and she groans into his mouth.

With her mouth locked on his, Prince Hugo takes a moment to worship her body. His hands brush over her flesh as if he's never touched her before, as if he's dreamt of doing it all his life. Her skin is very smooth; he memorizes them with his fingertips as he basks in her. Between skin and wounds, she's soft; pieces of her exist that haven't been touched by hatred but by love.

Prince Hugo gives as much attention to those parts of her as her body; he adores every part of her— the hurt, the fearful, and the kind. He drinks her in, tipsy off her mouth as his fingers run up her sides, before settling on her upper back.

He parts her lips with his tongue for a moment, teasing her with the graze of his mouth against her teeth, before he pulls back, heavily panting. Prince Hugo rubs her back, sweetly, softly; she is his world.

"You don't have to be so gentle with me," Princess Sofia mutters. Prince Hugo looks up at her. "I can take it; I won't break."

"I know," he reassures her. He draws his lips apart for a moment, pulling air into his lungs. "I'm taking care of you, remember?" His fingers brush over a spot of skin on her back that makes her shutter. "I'm trying to love on you, not rile you up."

Princess Sofia laughs, softly, gently. "You've already riled me up." It's an admission of how badly she wants him, and it makes him weak.

"And I intend to sate you properly," Prince Hugo adds, feeling a stirring of want in his lower stomach. "But we have all night, and we don't have anywhere important to be tomorrow morning." Prince Hugo looks at her, eyes taking her in. "Let me love you the way you deserve," he whispers, words fanning across her cheeks. "Let yourself be loved."

Princess Sofia pauses for a moment as his words wash over her. Her shoulders relax and her head hangs down, her fiery red hair still pouring down her bare shoulders. No response falls from her tongue, but she puts her lips on his and sighs into his mouth with enough tender calm that he knows her answer.

His hands travel along her body as her fingers stay rooted in his hair; it's too difficult to stay stationary when she's in his mouth, on his lips, against every inch of his skin— she's close and somehow it never feels like enough of her.

Prince Hugo wants every part of her; wants to feel the power of her love and equally desires for her to fall apart under the power of his ministrations; a scenario he's entertained before, and still yearns for. He craves her to move her body against his, to kiss her skin until it's slick with his saliva, to say her name until the six letters no longer feel coherent. Prince Hugo thirsts for the aftershock of an electrifying symphony conducted by two bodies that cannot be separated, not even for a minute; wants to feel that exhaustion of lust in his bones, wants her to settle at his side, still nude and sweaty from desperate intercourse, wants her to tell him that he did a wonderful job, wants to hold her close and promise that he loves her.

Her moans and movements atop him are the things of dreams; he yearns to hear her say his name like that, to feel her hips moving in sync with his as Prince Hugo tries to keep up, to watch her face slowly morph from exhausted to euphoric as her back arches above him, as he puts his arms around her while she cries out his name, as he slowly provides her with praises as Princess Sofia lays against him, both riddled with a blissful and powerful love.

His hands slowly work themselves up her body, and her breath catches at the movement. Prince Hugo presses a kiss to her lips as Princess Sofia produces a small sound of delight. He adores it, adores every single thing that falls from her blissful tongue.

"Hugo," she whispers. Prince Hugo lays a kiss on the corner of her mouth, taking an interest in how Princess Sofia sharply inhales at the contact. His lips are tainted with her.

Prince Hugo smiles against her skin, and gently presses a kiss under her jaw. Princess Sofia breathes slowly, deeply; he knows this tactic— she's trying to calm her rushing heart. Prince Hugo draws his lips to her pulse point, feeling her heart pounding rapidly; it's as if she's just been running.

"Don't say anything," Princess Sofia says, a bit gruff— defensive; she's protecting her pride.

Prince Hugo chuckles into her skin. "Not a single word," he promises, pressing a final kiss to the column of her throat. Her fingers hold a steady grasp in his hair; a sickly sweet kind of lust radiates from her, though no one could have ever known it.

Unless, of course, that person was PrinceHugo. Perhaps he knows her too well, not that he could ever complain about it.

Princess Sofia smells delightful; he picks it up the moment his lips meet her nape. A fresh smell of pine trees and lavender, she smells like a pleasant memory. Prince Hugo can't help but sigh. His lips rumble against her skin.

"I can't get enough of you," Prince Hugo mutters; it's a praise meant only for her ears. He can feel how Princess Sofia freezes for a moment above him; embarrassment racking her bones. But she doesn't push him away, doesn't tell him to stop. Prince Hugo knows her too well; knows how she flusters, where she likes his lips, and how she likes it done. "I really can't—" he starts, slowly taking her in with his mouth. "—control myself around you."

Princess Sofia all but moans. "For my sake, please don't." Her request falls onto his temple with an exhale, her voice more tender than it would be with anyone else.

It's never about anyone else, when it comes to the two of them. Not when Prince Hugo gets to see the side of her that she tries to hide. Not when he can simply proclaim his feelings about her only for her to almost melt within his arms. Princess Sofia is an angel to most, an enigma to all—

Except Prince Hugo. To him, she is a goddess.

If he had all the time in the world, he would spend hours worshipping her body the way she deserves; he'd kneel down and kiss her legs, weaving his lips between her legs and thighs. He'd kiss her stomach with a gentle kindness, with the pace of someone learning how to ride a bike; eagerly, slowly. He'd kiss her chest and watch her fall apart— a small trick he's learned over the years. He'd dedicate hours to her lips, simply kissing and kissing until nothing but her mouth and tongue feel real.

His teeth lightly graze her skin and her body shivers against his. "I could look at you like this for days." It's an image Prince Hugo holds in his brain at all times; a true beauty to recall.

Princess Sofia tugs gently on his hair. "Hugo" she mutters; urgency tainting her voice. Prince Hugo pulls away from her and his head falls back onto his pillow.

"Too much?" He asks, studying her face for any indication that he's gone too far. Her cheeks are painted furiously with red; Princess Sofia looks embarrassed, her eye trained on his lips.

"Not enough," she replies, languidly rolling her hips against his. He short-circuits; his back presses into the mattress as a whimper falls down his lips.

"Sofia," he says, struggling to create a coherent thought. Princess Sofia looks just as aroused as him, staring wide eyed and wanting. "Okay, okay," Prince Hugo whispers, looking at her gorgeous face; she's too beautiful to handle. His hands grasp her upper back. "Where do you want me?"

His question does not take her back in the slightest. "You know the answer to that," Princess Sofia responds, sounding out of breath.

Prince Hugo's eyes twinkle. "I like to hear you say it."

Princess Sofia gives him a smile that's gentle and longing. Her hand holds the side of his head. "How about I show you?"

"Hugo" she gasps. Her eye is wide, her forehead pressed against his. Prince Hugo can feel every breath Princess Sofia takes and exhales against his own very flushed skin.

Prince Hugo moves against the mattress , and her eye shuts rapidly. He kisses her cheek as gently as he can. "I've got you," he whispers, although it's fairly difficult to do, when she's above him, moving herself like that. "I'm right there with you."

Her body starts to shake. Prince Hugo steals her lips, savoring in how their noses rub against each other, how he can feel all the noises Princess Sofia makes within his mouth. His back falls into the bed, as he puts one of his hands on the back of her head, the other wrapping around her upper back.

In between breaths, an unrestrained moan falls from her lips. "Hugo —" Princess Sofia starts to say, as another cry slips off her tongue. Prince Hugo's grip tightens on her back; the way she says his name wrecks him.

"You're doing wonderful," Prince Hugo barely says, mind more focused on how beautiful her body works on his than coherency. Her thighs squeeze his hips, as Princess Sofia ducks her head down; it just about sends him over the edge. Again. "You're almost there."

There's a word on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't say it; Prince Hugo's not entirely certain she can speak fluently at the moment. Princess Sofia looks at him and opens her mouth. He quickly takes her lips in his, tasting the sounds of her final cry. Her back arches and he holds her as she pulls her lips away for air. When her body falls back against his, she's quietly panting his name as if she were praying it.

"You are perfect," Prince Hugo whispers, looking up at her face as a few beads of sweat roll down her temple. It's hard not to praise her when she looks like this; hair disheveled, body slick with sweat. They've fallen undone in each other's arms; there's nothing more lovely than that. "Beautiful."

Princess Sofia catches her breath and looks down at him, exhaustion riddling her features. "I swear you're too good at that," she says through short gasps. Prince Hugo chuckles, staring into that stunning eye of hers.

"You deserve nothing less," he replies, with a smile; staring at her is delightful. Princess Sofia leans down to kiss between his eyebrows, and then a proper kiss; languid and on his lips. Prince Hugo gives in to her touch, mouth following hers like a Golden Retriever dog.

Princess Sofia rests her forehead against his for a moment, enjoying his warmth, before lying down atop him. She tucks her head into the crook of his neck.

"Tired?" Prince Hugo asks, though he knows he doesn't have to. Her arm hooks around his neck, and in an almost drunken haze, he puts his arms around her; one around her waist, and the other on the back of her neck, fingers tangling into her long, red locks of hair.

He can feel her bark a laugh against his sweat-coated skin, as he closes his eyes. "Give yourself a pat on the back, why don't you?" It's lighthearted— a mix of both her relaxation and her affection for him. Prince Hugo chuckles as exhaustion claims him.

"Don't sell yourself short, my dear. You've done quite the number on me." She snorts in response. Prince Hugo rubs the pad of his thumb against Princess Sofia's back, taking in the ridges of her spine. She falls into his touch as he lifts his lips to her ear.

"You're ravishing, Sofia " Prince Hugo whispers. Her breath catches for a moment. "I'm ridiculously in love with you." His fingers rub small locks of her hair together; soft and perfect— all of her is perfect.

"Mmn," Princess Sofia hums. He can feel her body become less tense within his arms. It makes him feel rather proud. "I love you too."

A smile erupts onto his face. Prince Hugo nestles his nose into her hair and holds her like the world is ending. Protecting her has always been his job; it's practically second nature. She'll never need protection, not with her strength, but he's vowed to never leave her side, never let her slip from his grasp, not for one minute.

When you find someone like Princess Sofia, you can't let her go. The thought of a world without her is unbearable; he lives to be her shield, her lover, her rock.

He presses a kiss to the shell of her ear, then weaves one into her hair. Princess Sofia sighs; he can feel her breath against his shoulder.

"I need a shower," she says, after a few moments of tender silence. Prince Hugo kisses her shoulder.

"I can run a bath for us while you relax for a bit," Prince offers. "We should clean up a bit."

Princess Sofia gives a small hum of agreement, but holds him a bit tighter. Her thighs continue to straddle his hips, as her arm clings to him as if for life. "We'll do that in a minute," she remarks, voice soaking with tiredness. "Stay here for a little longer."

Prince Hugo kisses her neck. "Anything for you, my dear."