Markus let himself cry finally. He nodded weakly at her promise, clinging to her. Maybe he wouldn’t be alone anymore, and maybe he wouldn’t have to pretend to be strong and confident all the time anymore.
He followed her advise, as he always did. He had never had too many problems with panic attacks before, since there never had been any reason to be worried about anything. He was the youngest son, not supposed to be the heir of the throne, and just be happy in life. And then all this had happened.
He slowly calmed down again, mostly forcing himself to calm. He needed to be, he had to be. He let go of Eve once he had calmed down again.
“I’m sorry.”, he said softly, rubbing his eyes. It had been six months since he thought he had lost her, and over a year since he had least seen her. And almost four years since his parents had been killed. He was still pretty much a child -barely nineteen- but forced to be an adult. A king.Eve smiled softly, knowing it wasn’t that easy. She lost her parents, and was still really sore about the whole thing. If she thought about it too much she’d start crying and hyperventilating, but she had to be strong. She set her hands on his face.
“Look how strong you’re being, Markus you really are fantastic. I know it still hurts, no need to pretend with me. But, I know you have to be strong for your kingdom. I’m so proud of you, and I bet your parents are as well.” She kissed his cheek and smiled brightly. Eve was eighteen, barely. She had her birthday merely a week before the attack, and was lucky to even get out there alive and unnoticed. She held his hands looking up into his eyes.
“I hope its okay with you, but I haven’t had a proper bath in ages. Would it be alright if I go and take one? I’d love to talk more once I’m clean, though~! You know I’d never want to leave my best friend~!” She hugged him again, nuzzling him and smiling.
Markus looked at her as she cupped his cheeks, listening silently. He couldn’t help but tear up again at her words. No one ever told him. That he was strong, or that they were proud of him. That his parents would be.
He tried to blink the tears away, just managing to make hem roll down his cheeks.
“Of course.”, he said, managing to keep his voice even. He rubbed his eyes dry again, taking a deep breath. He couldn’t help it, he was too used to pretend to be strong.
He hugged her back again, nuzzling against her shoulder. “Do you need clothes?”, he asked quietly. wanting her to be as comfortable as possible.
emptynarration 