Guilty Pleasures Nov 3, 2011 3:50:15 GMT -5
Post by Arthur Pendragon on Nov 3, 2011 3:50:15 GMT -5
There it was. This was what he had been fearing for so long. That she would be the woman he fell in love with. That she would give him advice, stemmed from concern fro him. That she wished him to find enjoyment in his life. And . . . he could not hear that right now. He could not look at her, as his gaze once again fixated on the table. He needed to stay strong. He could not break. But . . . no one quite spoke to him in the same tone she did. No one had the audacity to speak to him like she did; and he loved her for it. He felt an ache in his heart, hearing her speak so openly to him . . . about something for his own benefit. And the ache only intensified when she brought up the loss; assuming it was the child that he and Elena had lost. Elena. He could not forget her. He could not push her out of his mind just . . . just because he loved Guinevère. Just because he felt like right now, no one else existed in the world.He took a deep breath, looking back at her, not wanting to be harsh, but allowing any softness would just break him.
He would then just spill everything; tell her of how he could not stop thinking about her. How he wished she was with him every night, when he should be with his wife. How she was the only one he'd let inside his heart, and the only one who would have claims to it. But he couldn't. He hardened his expression, trying to keep it distant . . . trying to stay strong. But she was slowly breaking him with each word she spoke. "I am coping with this loss," he told her in a low but strong voice. He was coping with it the only way he knew how; the only way he could afford to. "I don't need anyone." A harsh statement, and it was a lie. Because deep down . . . he knew he needed her. More than he could ever say. But he was a king. "The responsibility is mine and mine alone to bare. I can not afford the luxury of friends." The responsibility of this kingdom, of dealing with his own emotional turmoil.