I Don't Think About You Anymore But, I Don't Think About You Anyless (Closed to Inky)

Dry lips slowly spread open, parched from the lack of fluids and deathly pale from blood-loss, the only sound managing to penetrate the parched throat being a soft raspy sigh. The lips tasted the dry sterile air, the crisp chill from the artificial air-conditioning brushing against the face of a man whose mind and body still clung to the comforting embrace of a painless slumber. The young man, effortlessly handsome even in his sorrystate was none other than Cilian Blanc, the wily Prince of thrones and most recent victim of Dominus' any-metahuman agenda. His eyes flickered thrice, blinking away the light that burned into his vision, threatening to wash out the peaceful darkness he had arisen from. His body felt numb, to the point that he had to creak his eyes open to see if he still actually had a body to call his own. His golden eyes glazed over his tattooed form, the uncanny designs swirling about his skin like fish in a lake reacting to their master's awakening. He was naked, save for the strange hospital loincloth covering his lower region and the multitude of tubes, bandages and needles that adorned his skin.

Cilian retained a rather bemused look on his face, slowly raising his eyebrow at the barely-there protection over his manhood. Taking a deep sigh he glanced over, finally realizing that he had company and for the first few seconds of thinking it was an angel his mind finally registered the familiar face (and body) of Queen Chelle's loyal servant girl, Anna. Her soft small hands were interlaced with his own, threatening to break his digits even though he could not fully register feeling where their skin touched. He slowly lolled his head over to give the woman a more proper look..well as proper as his lagged eyelids allowed him. She was dressed in the same clothing she had been shot in, blood splattered over her petite body...making him cringe from the mere sight; such a pretty girl did not deserve such a rancid addition to her style. He attempted to smile, an awkward separation of his quivering lips..not the usual charming grin he often had painted on his face.

He straggling fingers gently brushed against the back of her hand, motioning to her that he was now comscious and fully aware of her distraught...the red cheeks and watery eyes allowing the Frenchman some discernment into her current mood. Clearing his unfair as best as he could he gazed up at her, a cheeky grin gradually growing on his pale face, "Do we has any Sauvignon blanc...?, he croaked, his typically honeyed and charming voice completely reduced to a hoarse whisper. If anything his attempt at humor should pay off, he was in need of some sustenance...regardless of the alcohol level and how damaged he was. Surely the servant girl, whom he had shamelessly flirted with in the past, would allow him a little sip of his favourite drink.

He was fairly certain he knew what her answer was going to be so he playfully pouted, ignoring the throbbing pain in his chest and the annoying beeps of the contraptions next to him. He did not know how long he had been bed ridden, or where Chelle was or even if Sheryll had popped back into existence. It was like reality had been torn from his grips whilst unconscious and his mind ached from the mere attempt of trying to recollect his last memory. The smell of blood and smoke, the feeling of relentless rain against his skin and the soft whispers of whoever guided him back into life was all that the Prince could remember from that incident. It all seemed rather silly but the young Frenchman was certain that he had a guardian watching over him the whole time his mind disappeared, the hazy memories of a longing touch, gentle whispers and protective caresses danced around his consciousness, not ever giving him the full details of what his memory had suppressed.

He stretched out his finger, slowly tracing the Anna's knuckles in an attempt to focus his mind on something else other than his mental stress. "Tell me...what happened after...you know...are you feeling better now?" he whispered, returning his quivering hands back into the protective clutch of the petite woman, patiently waiting for his soft words to to settle into her mind...

The dashing Frenchman's lips curled into a grin as he watched the woman's ears twitch and flick, it was as if they had a life of their own.Asking her to feel her ears and tail is probably rude... he thought to himself, lightly chuckling underneath his shallow breaths whilst his caramel eyes traced the woman's form, from the tip of her peculiar white hair down to the tiny waist still covered in blood, there was no mistake that this servant girl truly was a gorgeous woman...and that was a lot coming from a man who was particularly experienced in wooing the prettiest members of the opposite sex. Her hands were warm, soft and small; delicate digits intertwined with his own as if they were perfectly moulded to fit into one another, but that was silly, such grand and slighty cringe worthy romantic sentiments often made Cilian mentally gag and any further thought of such things were dashed from his head by paying attention to her supple pouted lips.

"Well I must say, you're the much better option than all of our other friends..Dylan would not of let me hear the end of it," he chuckled, lightly wincing as his aching chest reacted to his momentary joy, "I don't think I've seen that much blood...red isn't even my colour..", his breath esaped, cashing the last remnants of his voice to disappear into a strained puff. Rolling his eyes at his predicament the wily Prince gazed down at his exposed body, the ever shifting tattoos were relentlessly trawling his skin, trekking over the scarred abs and bandaged shoulders like intangible spirits wandering the most peculiar dimension ever. Occasionally the designs would mutate into a vague image, a sparrow briefly flying around his knuckles its little wings gliding across the fingers that were connects with the pretty lady's; a cackling man hobbled across his belly and a jackal sprinted down the length of his arm only to merge back into the faceless swirls that adorned his body once it pounced into his palm. Cilian was truly content, he was in good company and his body seemed fairly well taken care of than the last time he saw his tattered bleeding form.

"Remind me to take you out for dinner once I'm allowed to anything other than 'mineral rich water with electrolytes and potassium'...hopefully you like French food. Yes, I'm going to take you out for some French food...that is if uhh fox people can eat French food..", he grinned cheekily, staring up into her eyes as he told Anna rather than asked her. It was the least he could do for the poor girl being forced to sit by his side with nothing else to do but flirt with him...not that it was a bad thing...it was just that dinner seemed more of a fitting place to fawn over each other than a sterile white operating room.

Summer was coming to close, the inescapable heat had coerced people to escape their dreary lives and dash into the comforting embrace of the nearest body of water had now dwindled to a mere warm breeze, everything had slowed down...everything but the Thrones Villa. Maids scurried to and fro, aiming to complete their chores with delicate precision and professionalism whilst the kitchen hands and chefs tirelessly encouraged alchemy within their bustling kitchen, creating dishes that would snatch the hearts of the coldest man. Yes, the grand mansion of one of the most elite groups was in a controlled state of panic. Why? The Thrones had achieved an outstanding ensemble of ranked members that had exceeded any other roster that had been created before and they were all coming to celebrate. The manic preparations were all achieved with pinpoint accuracy, each member was having their most favourite dish served up and the mansion was being fitted with various pieces of design that would startle the most accomplished interior designer in the world. They were either arriving by the private jet or some other over-the-top form of transport and it made sense that the bustling plebeians did their jobs well, please some of the most powerful beings in existence.

One member in particular was having no trouble mindlessly swaying through the busy houseworkers, a content grin plastered on his admittedly handsome face as he gracefully swerved around any obstruction that would happen to obscure his little stroll. Cilian Blanc was now almost fully recovered from his injuries, a slight limp was all that remained after his face off with Dominus but such a thing did not bother him...just gave him more of an excuse to purchase a 19th century lacquered cane. The wily prince cracked smiles at the passing maids, patting the shoulders of the butlers and making sure that no piece of lint dared to encroach on his suit. His tattoos were covered and he was dressed for the occasion, already prepping himself for the 'pre-party' drinks and festivities that he had spontaneously planned that night.

However, such an interesting event was in need of some attendees and the Frenchman had his eyes set on one woman in particular, Anna. The captivating white haired lady was the Young man's current obsession, that and the restocked wine chamber down below. She had graced his dreams and more often than not his sentient tattoos took the form of the petite female when he was out and about...this man, who was infamous for his love for the opposite sex had finally found the girl of his dreams..and chasing her was part of the fun. They teased each other, shamelessly flirted whenever possible and often made excuses to see each other, like toddlers in a preschool the two were infatuated with the other and it made sense that Cilian made it his duty to find the pretty woman and send out his invite to the recently-planned night of festivities.

His search took him throughout the much of the mansions extensive grounds and it was only by chance did his peripheral vision catch sight of her white hair bobbing in the wind. She was outside, looking over some decoration...absorbed in her duties and completely unaware of his presence. She was a busy and surprisingly independent woman, unlike him who chose to do whatever his body yearned for, and that's what made her special, she was not afraid to boss him around and contrast his flippant mannerisms. Such an adoration for her personality had the playfulness running around his mind...maybe she wasn't too busy to spare him some time..

Slowly waltzing behind her petite frame the Frenchman silently grinned before making a pincer motion with his fingers and no sooner had a slight giggle escape his lips did his cheeky fingers pinch the woman's behind. Although many would have found such behaviour completely unnecessary and vulgar this was a mere addition to their shameless interactions. "Don't mind me...there was just some dirt on your skirt..", he cracked a smile all the while trying to keep a straight face. "Now why would you possibly be worrying about coloured ribbons when you can join me and a few others, minus the others of course, for a drink?" he whispered in her ear, his voice honeyed with playfulness and wit that only he was capable of getting away with...

The Prince grinned, not for any particular reason other than the fact that simply being with her made him happy, made him whole. It was no lie that he had encountered a whole myriad of beautiful ladies in his 24 years of life, stunning models, enchanting gypsies and the occasional super powered heroine but none compared to the petite white haired woman...she just seemed so grounded, a welcome contrast to his usual flippancy and flamboyance. Her current excuse for not immediately going along with his spontaneous planning was somewhat justified, her work was needed and a woman of her skill was definitely required for the task at hand...but then again, tying ribbons just seemed so utterly redundant in the face of things. Anna deserved more than such a menial job, she needed a break, a massage and an opinion on which suit he should wear later that night.

"Oh of course I'm attending, I simply need 'someones' opinion on what I should wear...", CIlian raised his eyebrow, a playful smirk on his face. The 'someone was enunciated for obvious reasons, a 'hint-hint, nudge nudge' if you will. "...and I've desperately searching for a partner for the event tonight. Where oh where do you think i could find a beautiful single female with the guts to dance with a lonely frenchman?", he theatrically spoke, flapping his hands in the air and attempting a look of exaggerated worry; every Prince needs a Princess for a dance and his not-so-subtle humour was more than likely being processed through her pretty little head.

"Oh and don't worry about the ribbons...I know some guys who could do that job for you..", he winked before buttoning his sleeves back, revealing the shifting tattoos that traversed the length of his skin. Outstretching his fingers, black globules of ink slowly began to seep out of his skin and form into a swirling mass in the middle the palm of his hand, dripping off each digit onto the floor. Soon enough five squirming balls of black liquid lay at his feet and with a click of his finger they unfurled to reveal chubby little black monsters, wide grins adorning their neckless heads and strange giggles escaping their lips. "they may be stupid...but they get the job done, quick and efficient. They also know how to make martinis so that's a plus!", he chuckled, giving his awkwardly adorable creations a silly grin before pointing them in the direction of the ribbon preparations. With gleeful gurgles the five little ink monsters waddled off to take charge of the ribbons, leaving Cilian and Anna alone.

"Now you have no excuses, no other options and it seems your work has been stolen from you. Such a shame.", Cilian chuckled, cracking a boyish smile before taking his place next to her and offering his arm to escort her to somewhere less frantic. "How does some Rosé des Riceys sound? Good? Good.", he chirped, leading her to the cellar where his 'children' awaited, "I also do hope you have a dress chosen for tonight's activities..", he said aloud with a smile growing on his face, swaying his head as his second attempt at not-so-subtle comments took the better of his humour.

Cilian's typically long strides were whittled down to a slow yet graceful pace, keeping up with Anna whose shorter legs would not allow her the luxury of such lengthy steps. They had exited the mansion and wandered into the lush western garden which overlooked the shimmering mediterranean sea, the dazzling blue water sparkling underneath the soft light from the fiery orb high in the sky. Nature was at the cusp of it's beauty that morning, the panicky shambles of the maids and servants not touching the tranquility that embraced the garden's in the calm, serene atmosphere and for a moment the Prince became entranced with the sheer spectacle, his grip on Anna slightly tightening as he led her to the pier overlooking a shallow reef pool. "I'm sure I could snatch something from the kitchen...Pietro is quite a talented chef if I might say so myself..", he grinned, glancing at the petite woman before brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"Oooh what is this? Little Anna doing something without Chelle's knowledge!?", Cilian chuckled, his honeyed voice dancing in the breeze, "...I accept all responsibility for creating such a rebellious servant girl, who knows what our Queen would do if she finds her most prized helper frolicking in the gardens with her prince?", he attempted to say with a straight face, failing halfway when a cheeky grin took over his visage. It was silent for a moment, the soft sounds of the water lapping against the limestone creating a peaceful melody that swayed in the background. CIlian gazed at the woman, drinking in all of her beauty, those small and special fragments of her form that only he could notice and appreciate. She was beautiful and no majestic scenery was going to overwhelm that in the slightest.

"I'm sure another maid would be up for it..." , his voice was now a low, gentle whisper; caressing the air with every succulent word that escaped his lips. His eyes never left hers and his hands did not ignore the soft small digits interlaced with his own. His cheeky demeanour had faded into a peaceful and warm expression, the gentle smile traversing his mouth only giving a hint to what was to come next. Nudging the woman's chin up with his finger the wily Frenchman slowly dipped his head down so that it met hers, their eyes interlocking, quivering breaths brushing against the other's mouth as the tension hung frozen in the air. In the last second his smooth voice danced from his lips, the whispery melodic timbre of his voice drowning the woman in the genuine love he felt for her...

"Be mine."

Time ceased to move, their lips coming together in a dance that only their hearts knew. Such grace as their eyes closed, lost in the moment; sharing their breath as if it were their last. Time had lost meaning, as did their surroundings and all of the stresses of today and tomorrow..they were were lost in the rapture of a perfect dance, their hearts and souls intertwining as their mouth's moulded against one another. The first kiss was not outdone by the second nor the third, but overlaid over one another like the gentle strokes of a master artist's brush against paper. Cilian's lips, the skin that had learnt to disguise the torment and pain behind his maverick expressions finally met Anna's in a moment of blissful, unrestrained passion that would not dare end with the cold burn of reality. Every sweet second that lasted in that moment of joy continued to waltz in their minds as the day progressed, nothing was ever going to impede on the connection that only ever grew stringer as each minute went by.

The night was young, a crisp breeze danced through the deep indigo air as it brushed against the hanging lanterns shattered across the grand Villa. Distant stars roaming galaxies unseen cried their soft, silent melodies as their twinkling gaze fell upon the pateons that waltzed under the open air. Thrones annual masquerade ball had commenced on the eve of dusk, those attending expected to have their masks on by the time the sun had dipped its head underneath the horizon. Everyone was dressed to impress, even the maids were fashioned to perfection as true testament to the calibre of who they were working for. One maid in particular looked absolutely ravishjng that night, Queen Chelle's trusted personal helper, Anna Daniels and it made sense that she had been quickly snatched up as someone's date for that night's formalities.

Time had passed with a blissful rhythm that day, Cilian Blanc adoring every single second of it; squeezing every last drop of joy from the time spent with Anna and basking in the sheer delight of simply being around her. They did not leave each other's side for the rest of the day, spending a considerable amount of time in the Western gardens frolicking amongst the cherry blossoms. They were lost in the tangle of innocent attraction. Coy smiles, flirty glances and warm smiles filled the gaps in the days activities, marking every second with spontaneous excitement and entertainment. He had found his suit but he did not really care...it was his date for that night that had snatched his attention and any mention of million dollar formal wear fell on deaf ears...his focus was on Anna and Anna only.

A string quartet played in the background, the beautiful melody whisking those present into an intimate and delicate performance. Grace and beauty spun together like a petals in a gust if wind, the vibrant hues and intricate dresses evoking a visual stimulant like no other. Everyone moved in perfect cohesion and snychronisation, their graceful spins and steps fluid and controlled. The a Prince and his ivory haired princess whisked each other into an intimate Waltz, gently clutching onto one another as their combined skill carried them into a world of their own.

It was just Cilian and Anna. Eyes peaking through masks as their lips occasionally brushed against one another, the light touches of refined affection taking them on a sweet ride like none other.

"My dear, you're much too beautiful for me...forgive me of I stare too long" Cilian chuckled, clasping the tips of her fingers as he spun her into a gentle embrace. "I'm sure our Queen would be quite curious as to why neither of us have changed partners yet...", he grinned, his honeyed voice whispered into her ear as he placed a kiss on her neck. "Whoever is first to trip over has to tell her," he chuckled, attempting to stifle a grin as his body elegantly swayed with the enchanting lullaby. Every chance he had, every hidden gap where they were obscured from the majority's view he would kiss her, softly, sweetly and so lovingly that it was as if her very mouth held the key to immortality, that her pale neck was lined with the sweetest fruit that man could ever taste.

In the moment of mystery, where their identity was shielded from the world they had found one another and it was then that they knew they had joined together in the fateful dance of love.

A sweet secret of pure joy.

The Prince grinned at her little hypothetical situation, playfully cocking his head to the side as he thought it through. "Well firstly I would check and see if you were truly staring back at me and not at the musclebound fellow behind us,", he cheekily simpered, nodding his head at the ape of a man twirling with his partner behind the two lovebirds. "Once I've made sure you weren't distracted by his awfully well toned biceps I would stroll over to you, rose in hand and introduce myself as 'the local prince of this fine island'",he smiled, theatrically waving his hand in the air all the while twirling the pretty woman across the polished ballroom floor. "Knowing that you would not resist my charm I would grab your hand and kiss it. Sweetly, softly like this", he said in an almost hushed tone bringing her petite hand up to his lips and kissing it twice. "We would then dance the night away, I would sate my curiosity and ask this beautiful mystery lady questions about where she worked and so on. But I will not ask who exactly she is. That's for when the clock strikes twelve and we all remove our masks!" he whispered, drawing her body closer to his as the melodic tune in the background became noticeably slower.

"Thankfully, such formalities are all but left void since I already have you here, in my arms", his honeyed voice dripped into her pale ears, clasping her petite waist as the final waltz came to its finale. They danced in silence for a while, basking in each other's sweet aromas. They did not leave each other at all during that night and when the bell finally struck midnight Cilian gently lifted the ornate mask away from her face, marvelling at the perfection before him. "Exquisite" he whispered, his fingers interlocking with her pale slender digits as he led her off the dance floor and into his arms away from the bustling crowd. "I think I deserve a drink and you deserve a massage,", he smiled, biting his lips like a cheeky schoolboy before escorting her to the more private area.

Cradling her body in his arms Cilian flew up into the balcony of the third floor, gently placing her on a waiting picnic mat complete with the finest Dom perignon. Uncorking it with relative ease the Frenchman poured them both a glass. "I guess now is a good time to determine whether your a heavyweight or a lightweight", he giggled, raising his eyebrow before toasting the night and tapping his glass against her own. They were alone, completely lost in their own little world aside from the twinkling stars overhead and the gentle breeze that playfully licked their skin.

Motioning Anna to give him her feet he slowly and carefully removed her heels, keeping them to the side before placing her small pale feet in his lap. Taking a sip of his wine and placing it down next to her exquisite footwear he gave her a warm grin, lightly kneading her soles all the while never ridding his gaze off her. "Such a spoilt girl you are", he tittered, bowing his head by a slight degree before placing a gentle kiss on tip of her big toe, a little smirk on his lips. He resumed the foot massage, keeping the rhythm fluid yet firm all the while enticing her with more wine, keeping her as happy as possible.

"Well I do think this is a fitting end to today's festivities" he smiled, nodding his head towards the first firework that soared into the night sky. The quiet whistling bulb nstantly evolving into a loud and colourful display of light as the masquerade came to a grand close. A triumphant ending to a day like none other. This was merely the first chapter in their loving connection with one another.

Soul mates who have just begun their grand journey.