Warning: mild male/male (kissing, nothing more). Don't like, don't read.

It was dangerous, meeting him at this hour, when it was still light out. Even so, I risked it. I always risked it. For him. For us. I had stopped caring about the rules a long time ago and secrecy had become something like second nature to me.

He always dressed as a commoner so that he wouldn't attract too much attention. The hood of his rough grey cloak was always pulled up to cover his face. My own cloak, a black one, was wrapped tightly around myself. Even though it was still Summer, the danger of what we were doing sent cold chills up and down my spine. It was a sensation that I cursed and craved at the same time.

It was unfair that it had to be like this. It was unfair that we had to disguise ourselves, that we had to hide, that we had to lie to our loved ones for these short moments together. Status, traditions, expectations, everything was against us it seemed. Oh, how often I've wanted to get rid of these masks we are forced to wear and tell the world that he is mine and I am his and that none of this will ever change!

Of course I couldn't do that, there was too much at stake, especially for him. Maybe later, maybe years from now, but not today, not tomorrow, not anytime soon. For the time being, we'd have to hide, to lie, to meet in secret, like we did today, now.

He walked past me without even looking at me, but I wasn't hurt by it. This was all part of the act. I turned around and slowly went after him, hoping no one noticed I was following him. I didn't think anyone ever did. I let the distance between us grow while always keeping my eyes on his grey cloak and trying not to run after him. I had to keep my cool or it would become suspicious. No one could know, no one could ever know! It was bad enough that Kay knew about him. His identity had to be a secret to all who were close to me, and mine to all who were close to him. That was the only way we could ever be together.

I noticed he walked faster now. Was he so eager? Don't walk too fast or people might notice, they might look, I thought. As if he could hear my thoughts he slowed down a little. The streets were more quiet now. Less noise, fewer people. I could see him clearly, walking right in front of me. Suddenly he stopped and I had to remind myself to keep walking to not look as if I was following him. He walked into an alley, a familiar one. No, he shouldn't! It was too close by, we might be discovered! But he didn't hear my thoughts this time and kept walking. I saw the alley was deserted when I entered it, just as he rounded a corner. I walked faster now so that I could catch up with him in time in this all too familiar neighborhood.

I didn't know when I'd started running, but I was around the corner in seconds and then I saw him. He stood still, about halfway into the alley. There was no one there, only us and a few barrels. I ignored those as I walked up to him, almost scared to come close. The sooner we would touch, the sooner this would be over.

He never had a lot of patience and he was very eager tonight, so the moment he could reach out for me he did and I was in his arms and against the hard wall. His hood fell down when he grabbed me and now he yanked mine down too, allowing us to look at each other's face for the first time in four long days. His dark, almost black hair was flattened thanks to the hood and I couldn't help running my fingers through the short, wavy locks. His dark eyes watched me. I liked his eyes. They were an unusual color, I'd say bronze, and this went very well with the dark color of his lashes. It made a mesmerizing contrast.

I didn't notice I sighed as I let my fingers caress his warm cheek, then his soft lips, then his neck, where I stopped. My other hand was around his waist and both of his hands were against the wall, one on every side of me, trapping me. Ha, as if I was going anywhere! We hadn't said a single word when I pulled him closer and pressed my lips to his. He was so warm, he was always warm. I felt how his arms circled around me, one around my waist, the other a little higher. He pulled me closer and we both sighed at the much wanted, needed contact.

I tilted my head a little to deepen the kiss, opened my mouth just slightly when his tongue asked it, and then my heart was flying. I had to lean back against the wall to keep my legs from giving out, that's how deliciously powerless he made me feel. And he knew it, the bastard. I couldn't help but smile at the thought.

After a little while, I didn't know how long and neither did I care, his hands started to wander. Over my sides, my back, to my abdomen and then up over my chest and to my neck. He always made sure to pay some extra attention to my neck, knowing it was one of my weak spots. And indeed, he had me writhing and trembling in seconds. I lifted one of my legs to wrap it around his waist and keep me from falling to the ground. However, I could play this game too.

His weakness had always been that he liked pretty things. If he saw something he liked, he'd go after it and not stop until he had it. That's how we had ended up together. He saw me, he liked what he saw, he wanted me, he went after me, and before I knew it I was head over heels in love with him. I didn't think he'd ever intended to return my feelings, but he never seemed to regret he did.

But as I was saying, he liked pretty things and wanted them at all costs. So I pulled back, albeit with reluctance, and let my cloak drop to the ground, revealing the clothes I wore underneath. My hame, a long skirt only worn by men, was nothing special, but the vest that I wore was cut very low. Since I didn't wear a shirt underneath, a lot of my skin was visible. The look in my beloved's eyes turned hungry, as expected, and he reached out to touch my bare skin. Smirking, I smacked his hand away. He moaned in both annoyance and desire. He hated not getting what he wanted, when he wanted it.

I slipped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to kiss him again. His kiss was hard and had lost much of its earlier tenderness, but I didn't mind. To make up for my earlier teasing, I let him pull away the dark red ribbon that held my hair together in a long ponytail. The ribbon fell to the ground, forgotten, as his long fingers buried themselves in my long black hair. He loved my hair. He loved combing his fingers through the silken strands. Pretty much the only reason why I paid so ridiculously much attention to my hair was because it made him so happy. I loved making him happy.

He pulled away and I let him go reluctantly. He was pouting a little. I thought he looked adorable, but I knew better than to say that to his face.

"Tease," he murmured. I beamed.

"You deserved it," I said. "That's what you get for playing hell on my neck."

"Heh, like you were complaining."

He was looking at me, all the while holding me close with one hand and letting the other slowly comb through my hair. I liked it when he did that.

I heard a bell somewhere and looked up at the sudden noise. It was noticeably darker now and my smile vanished.

"I should get back soon," I said. He didn't respond with words, but his arm tightened around my waist. I didn't complain. Instead, I hugged him, burying my face in his neck. We sighed, and didn't move or talk for minutes.

We pulled back a little eventually, but still didn't let go of each other.

"Can you come to the Red Temple in two days?" he asked me. I nodded without thinking.

"Sure, what time?"

"How late do you have to work?" I had to think about it.

"Not until the eleventh hour. I'll probably be busy all night, though."

"The ninth hour then."

"Okay, I'll be there," I said. He kissed me.

"Promise?" he asked. I kissed him back.

"Promise."

Then he let go. I bent down to pick up my ribbon and cloak. He watched me as I put my hair back in a ponytail and he kept looking as I wrapped the cloak around me. I didn't pull the hood up, not yet.

"I love you, Seren," he said suddenly. I lightly, lovingly, touched his cheek.

"I love you too," I whispered. Knowing that this was it, we slowly walked away from each other, he in the direction from where we'd come, me to the end of the alley. I didn't look back until I'd reached the end. There he was, at the corner, looking at me with the saddest and most loving of smiles on his beautiful face. Then he turned around. He was gone.

"I love you," I murmured. He couldn't possibly hear me, but that didn't matter.

The woods are even darker by night than they are by day. Shadows lurk among the trees, waiting for a foolish prey. No light, no peace can be found here, only fear and pain and everlasting darkness. Hellish screams fill the night, and the worst thing is, you are alone.

In these woods there is a house. The house is old, built in the time of the now dead, and left by men to be haunted by the harsh wind, the shadows from the world beyond, and the cold breaths of times long past. You find yourself in front of this house, and the worst thing is, you are alone.

As you enter the building, built of rotting wood and crumbling stone, the chill you feel is not from the cold. The once heavy curtains are now shreds of cloth, the glass windows no longer provide you with glimpses of the outside world, as dust and dirt have spoiled the view. What furniture there is left looks ready to fall apart, and you don't dare touch it, afraid of what evil it will awaken. And the worst thing is, you are alone.

The air you breathe is heavy and thick. It sticks to your lungs and blurs your vision. It makes your mouth feel dry and turns your saliva into slime. It's suffocating, and yet you walk on. The floor you walk on is grey with dust of old times. There where you can spot a rare area of dark wood, it makes you wonder what creatures came here before you to erase the dust once gathered there. Your feet are heavy and slow as you hardly dare to move, afraid of disturbing the shadows and the sleeping evils that dwell there. And the worst thing is, you are alone.

The walls are scratched and marked, and they give you the feeling of following your every move. A hand shaped mark is staring at you, and you realize it's bloody past. Red stains on the lower part of the wall and the floor erase any doubts. And the worst thing is, you are alone.

You find yourself in front of the once grand staircase and see that the lower part is gone, destroyed by some unknown force. Long scratch marks greet you from the walls on the first floor. You walk past the demolished stairs, but not before you catch a glimpse of a shadow disappearing upstairs, around a dark corner. You shiver. And the worst thing is, you are alone.

Now there's a wooden door in front of you. It's slightly ajar, but it's too dark for you to see what's on the other side. You push against the door and it opens further without the slightest sound, something that bothers you in a house this old and decayed. And the worst thing is, you are alone.

There are stairs going down and you descend. There's not a single light to guide you on your way, but you manage not to fall. There's one step that creaks before you reach the bottom, and then you're in a hallway, illuminated only by a lone candle on the floor some thirty feet away from you. You walk towards it, but just as you reach it, all light goes out. And the worst thing is, you are alone.

Frightened, you want to turn back. Go back upstairs, though the door, the rooms, the front door, back into the woods. But there's no way back. You feel hot air against your neck and hear a low, ominous growl. There's no way back. And the worst thing is, you are alone.