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A King Who Falls on His Bottom
Lucan's lips parted as he sloely looked down at her face. She had her eyes closed, her breaths even, her lips half open. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and her long lashes carried beautiful drops of her sorrow, drops that carried the light of the torch through them like the sun itself. He felt his chest tighten, and he bit down on his lower lip slowly, his heart beating wildly. She was ethereal in a way that he could not bring himself to explain. Beauty that was as unfathomable as her stubbornness. Beauty that was as sharp as her mouth. As sharp as her words. He slowly moved his hand and started to bring it to her face. To his horror, it shook. His fingers trembled, like it had done only twice before in his life. His eyes widened, and he looked up to his hand. They still trembled
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