author’s note : ahahahaha this is turning into a murder mystery rather than romance xDXDXD nyway, here’s Alan and Cathy’s first, and arguably their last kiss~~~~~
ignore the bad language somehow the quality of my writing has been degrading like hell over the past couple months
He looked away from her. Unlike the oblivious, yet ravishingly exquisite princess before him, he harbored a likely possibility for why Catherine, of every excruciating experience six years ago had chosen to forget him. That was correct – he considered it a choice, a method of self-protection against the dagger within her psyche.
He remembered, like an abandoned ship underneath the glacial oceans, its clarity transparent, unwavering, irrevocable, immobile. The look of irreversible despair on her features, the tear stains marrying her otherwise picture-perfect face as Yu had driven that limousine in her direction. The time she spent underneath the wheels of his vehicle were perhaps the most difficult few seconds of his life – when she emerged, he clutched onto the back of his seat with all his might, his nails digging into the midnight black leather as he saw Luke, sprinting towards a blood-stained Catherine. The white dress he had prided in, ruined beyond recognition with embellishments of demonic artistry. Her hair, once golden were marred auburn, in a color although tantalizingly beautiful haunted him – and by her open, unblinking eyes, he was sure that he would no longer hear the mellifluous cavatina of her voice no more.
However, what burned through his mind after all these years was the look of hopelessness upon her saddened face. It was…of betrayal, one he knew was a thousand times more potent compared to the one he felt upon the dance floor. He had considered her death forged a possibility, and who knew, perhaps Catherine did remember everything, but chose to repress them due to the ache it dispensed her.
It didn’t matter to him, not one bit.
For she was the girl he loved – he loved her once upon a time, when the two had met each other at Nobel Michael. He knew that she would, one day become his princess. He loved her when she had first arrived at Oriens castle, where she smiled courteously to his staff, and had earned a rare smile through the eternal chrysalis around his brother. That was when he knew that this girl was in every sense, extraordinary.
In a way, she was never his friend, but also his best friend. She was always more to him than simple pastime, always more than childish companionship could ever successfully convey. That was why, when she had died right before his eyes, the magnitude of his heartbreak shattered him beyond repair. For months…years after that, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t eat. He had locked himself in the imprisonment of Oriens castle, and was…to be lightly put, troubled. Some had speculated that he was treasonous, for they though his lack of public appearance was due to the fact that he was constantly scheming inside his castle. Little did they know, that aside from the Alford Princess, the young Casiraghi prince was another victim of SBVRS.
He…had always loved her, loved her over his very own existence.
Yet, he was he only person she had forgotten.
Fate was a cruel and merciless character, one that would rip apart hearts of the most unimpeached kindness, of the most unadulterated purity until they were tainted with ailments of darkness. Alan had been on the verge of heading in that direction – in fact, that very night of his ceremony, he was keen on searching for a girl that he could improper, and foster from her hate against him. At east it would have given him adequate persuasion for self-loathing, and something to do when the rain veiled his windows.
Until he had witnessed her shadow, the shimmering white trail of her gown, her vibrant hair that paralleled the colors of the first break of dawn.
“If I could choose,” he said slowly, not for her to hear, but perhaps for the sake of his own ears. “I would have chosen to forget. Sometimes it takes strength to sustain a memory, and that’s something I’ve never had.”
She looked at her, her green gaze kind but alert, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He could tell she was formulating something appropriate to say, and he had indeed given her a mayhem that would not be easily solvable.
“If I could choose.” She finally replied, “I would choose to be your strength. That way, at least one of us shall know what to do with themselves.”
“Why are you lost?” he asked.
It didn’t take a second’s worth of deliberation on her part to respond.
“Because, Alan.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m thirteen. Not nineteen, thirteen. I don’t think I’m a criminal, but I can’t argue with the facts. I don’t want to believe that you were the one who killed me, but everyone, including you has told me otherwise. Frankly, I don’t know what to believe anymore,”
Somewhere between her speech, tears started emerging from her large emerald irises. Alan’s heart immediately swelled up, and slowly did he pry her fingers from her face, and with his thumbs slowly massaged her palms. Her skin felt strangely close to the touch, as if she was still hesitating between the brink of death, and death itself…
“Nothing in my life is stable,” she said between sobs, “my life feels like a floating iceberg, there’s nothing I can ascertain with certainty, other than…other than…”
“Other than what…” he soothed, “What is it?”
That was when it happened, she looked up at him, her tear-filled eyes widening as she stared, with such intensity that Alan’s heart thundered as time went one.
What was she implying…
“…other than my feelings for you.” She squeezed his hands as she said, “Other than the fact that I’m in love with you, Alan. I have, six years ago, and even though I can’t remember most of our time together, those feelings have transcended time and persevered until the present. Above all things, that’s the only one I know with absolute certainty.”
He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. His hands had gone petrified underneath the softness of her skin. As a matter of fact, he couldn’t even process the exact words she had so euphoniously uttered just seconds ago…
She had saved him. After all these years, after all those times where he deemed himself unworthy of being saved, she had still saved him.
“Alan,” she tilted her head to the side, “Are you alright?”
Seeing though as he still stared into oblivion, she bestowed a slap upon his cheek, which, to her fortune brought him back to reality.
“Alan, what’s the matter-mmph.”
Before she could even finish her statement, he had already sealed her lips with a passionate kiss. He could taste the remains of her lip gloss – strawberry flavored, just as he remembered, so many years ago. As her breath mingled with that of his, he half peeked at her, and discovered in gratitude that although her cheeks were flushed beyond recognition, her eyes were closed in contentment – moreover, her hands slowly made their way above the blade of his shoulders, and locked behind his neck, securing him in place.
…that hadn’t been their first kiss, but it felt as if anew.
He could smell the aroma of the perfume she used. It was strangely similar to the rare floral one Lord Michael could had always employed, yet, her lips were of such a dramatically soft texture that he could feel his heart swell, his blood accelerated as they pumped his veins. There was something magical in which their mouths mingled, something surely mythic in the way Cathy clung onto him, her actions so helpless, so guided that it allured him the desire to dominate her further, to take this kiss to the next level…
However, as the eternal code of chivalry dictated, Alan stopped himself immediately before his actions would offend her. Giving her one last, sweet kiss, he drew back and smiled at her, pleased with the sparkling remnants of their ardour that adorned her lips.
“There,” he touched her cheek, “Finally, some color in you.”
“Um….” She raised a cautious brow, “Do you expect me to say thank you?”
“Um, yeah. I mean, you no longer look like a wax doll, so you definitely should thank me.”
“Though, before that.” She looked away from him, “By the act kissing me so abruptly and so ardently, I taketh that, you, Alan Casiraghi, is-“
“Also in love with you, Catherine Alford.” he finished for her with a wide grin, “Yes, that would indeed be the case.”