(this has been republished from another account by the same author.)

Title: Expression
Couple: Royai
Genres: Romance
Rating: T

He tasted blood when he kissed her lips.

It was ever so quiet – too quiet. He would have felt a little uncomfortable to not hear a sound, but right now the thought never occurred to him. And, hell, he had wanted quiet for a long, long time. Fate was cruel, and refused to give him (them) the opportunity to be alone, in the quiet, where no one could disturb them.

That was impossible though. At a time like this, how could they have time alone? There was so much going on, and so many eyes pried towards the two. They touched, but only slight brushes of fingers or shoulders. He ignored any awful temptations to hold her, because that wouldn't look appropriate. She might not appreciate that either. She was complicated to read signs from, and he had always had to hesitate to figure out her expressions.

. . . except for that one.

Her half shut eyes had forced themselves to glance upwards. He instantly knew what she meant, and his eyes widened. A tinge of hope seeped through his body, but the empty feeling remained. Because even if help was on the way, she was still dying. Right in front of him. And he wasn't doing a thing. Just staring at her pathetically as she began to shiver and breathe painfully.

She couldn't speak. Blood had blocked her from saying any words, and he almost screamed in agony as the red liquid trickled from her mouth. She scrunched her eyes closed, desperate to cough out what was uncomfortably clogging in her throat, but too afraid to choke.

It didn't matter anyway – she was going to die.

He already knew he was too late when he forced his way from their grasp, fury almost making him blind. He had forgotten how to breathe as he urgently dashed towards her, swiping his fist, clicking his fingers, fire bursting towards whatever had confronted him. He didn't care if it was dead or not. It didn't matter. She did.

His arms were shaking so much he was scared he couldn't hold her. He yelled her name, because he couldn't talk properly anymore. He was panicking too much. His heart was so fast it would undoubtedly burst any second. His eyes were becoming fazed with stinging tears he loathed. A ball formed in his throat and he swallowed painfully.

Why wasn't she talking?

She obeyed his order – would she disobey it? Was she breaking her promise to him?

He hugged her. Pressed her against his chest, sent his lips over her cheek, whispered her name. Her name. An apology escaped from his mouth and he placed a hand against her cheek, bringing her face closer, whispering her to wake up because he was with her now.

She didn't respond to his kiss, but he still kissed her, ignoring the taste of harsh blood. Three, two, one – he released her, gasped, and stuttered something. No, she wasn't waking up.

It was all fuzzy. There was help (help he wanted). He had to let her go, and he found it ever so hard to release her and place her back down. His eyes were wide as the process happened in quick seconds. She stirred.

He said her name again, but nothing else, because he knew he would lose it. He took no hesitation to greedily hold her against him again, and press his lips against her forehead, closing his eyes. His hand glided across her stomach, upwards, and he felt her heart just there. Beating and pumping the blood around. Keeping her alive.

'Thank you,' he said quietly towards the girl, who only smiled, before hurrying towards the scene going on from behind.

'Sir. .?'

She spoke. He heard a voice he thought he would never hear again. He turned his head towards her and met her eyes. She had obliviously stolen him.

He remembered how to breathe again.

author's note: Because I hate/love this scene with a passion :')