yel

	The grass grew in wild tussocks - much to the converse of the well-combed strands around the palace. The trees grew in unruly columns of oak that stretched skyward; the canopy of leaves paint a wonderful mosaic with the illumination of the starry sky. Yet, with jaded peridot eyes, the beauty of starlight in the trees seemed naught upon sight of the lithe frame of Gilbert. Arthur remained silent in his position, leaning against a tree, viewing the albino pace across the clearing in undoubted anxiety. They were suppose to meet together. ‘He must think i’m not coming’.

	There was a beauty in watching a snowy figure move with such uneven grace, with moonlight spilling in tired light to glisten across pallid flesh. Arthur can’t help but become at ease in the darkness of his sanction in the trees. He can tell Gilbert is growing impatient: strides becoming a burden with fumbling hands to fiddle with the bag around his waist. Once the pain of watching the outcasted male became too fluid, Arthur steps from his place in the shadows and strides across the clearing with the utmost characteristic of voidance in his expression.

	Hands settle upon the hips before him, and he coaxes the shorter male back to his frame before he promptly dips his head to brush his lips tentatively across the shell of Gilbert’s ear. Arthur can feel relief shiver out in convulsions within the albino’s frame, as the shorter shifts in the blond’s arms to face him.

	“You shouldn’t have kept me waiting,” the former states, his voice riddled with what can only be tamed asseveration. Arthur chuckles at such a comment, and he leans down to press a chaste kiss to the reddened surface of Gilbert’s nose. “Of course, but I came. My body has been aching for you, Gilbert...” The taller male allows a delicate smile to cross his features upon sight of the dusty rose flushing across the other’s face, and such a smile only grows when arms wrap around his shoulders to tug him down into a kiss. Gloved hands become like blackbirds in their ministrations as Arthur trails delicate caresses along the circumference of Gilbert’s hips.

	Almost perpetually impulsive, Arthur begins to lead the shorter back to the treeline in an eloquent waltz, to which he pins Gilbert’s back against the trunk of a sturdy oak. Planned synchronization, albeit vacant, is alive within the albino pushing off of the ground and securing himself with his thighs tight around Arthur’s waist. Kisses become feverish, and soon gasps and sonorous growls emit from the respective beings.

	Once they part, Arthur’s expression grows increasingly solemn upon viewing his lover’s flushed complexion. Eyes that had alleviated so much scorning pessimism - a gaze that had filled his body with sweltering adoration - had been focused on him, and him alone. There was something frightening about how unforgivingly resplendent Gilbert had been to him. There was an ungodly urge to swell within his essence as his lips find sanctuary on the juncture of the the albino’s throat, teeth daring to ebb into the sensitive skin in order to impose his duly marking. This had been sin in it’s limelight. He hadn’t been one for the idea of infidelity, albeit Gilbert had made it far too carnal for him to resist. Arthur’s lips only part from scarlet-stained skin for him to whisper hotly against the imprint he had formed, “Your sin is my salvation…”

	Gilbert’s hands fly up to the buttons on Arthur’s shirt, eagerly beginning to push them from their slits as the task of breathing becomes increasingly more unimportant. With the blond’s lips on his throat, and calloused hands gripping his thighs tightly, easing himself further between the space of his partner’s thighs, Gilbert couldn’t restrain the string of moans pulled past kissed-red lips. The careful praise of ‘Good boy’ is muttered into the albino’s flesh once his shirt is pulled open, and Arthur’s hands fail to hesitate as he shifts his fingers across Gilbert’s haunches to give a rough squeeze.

	This had been unbelievable poison, and they both knew it. A love that would result in nothing but despair. However in the moment, there had been nothing more vital to one another than the touch they supplied so generously. Arthur shrugs his shirt off, reluctantly removing his hands from Gilbert’s haunches to allow for the fabric to fall to the unruly grass below. “Patience, my love.” Arthur is firm to remind the other male to savor the time they had with one another, to remember their intimacy for as long as possible. They could be pulled apart at any moment if they were found out.