Past (2)
“You are lovely,” Cyn commented as his eyes tried to take everything in like a painter. If only he could paint, then he could remember the beauty before him forever. But, sadly, he could only hope the memory would last in his mind.
The child glared at him, wanting to bare his teeth, but the muzzle stopped him. Cyn became more intrigued once he spotted the glare aimed at him and his words. He wondered if complimenting the slave would give another reaction to his words. He wanted to see those fire-lit eyes blaze with more emotions—the child’s eyes were better than anything he had ever seen.
“I like you,” Cyn started the one-sided conversation once more, “you are not dead like the others. You have a light within you.” Then, he reached forward, slipping his tiny fingers through the bars. He tried touching the muzzle on the slave’s face, but the child quickly moved away with another glare that clearly said, ‘don’t touch me.’
Cyn smiled at the rejection, pulling his hand back. “If you don’t want me to touch, then I won’t touch. But, one day, I know you will allow it.”
The child looked back with a raised eyebrow and eyes that said, ‘are you stupid?’ Honestly, the child knew the people would sell him to the worst of the worst. He knew his uncle made sure of that. The child also knew he was not ugly or would be known as a waste, but his uncle had to ensure he would never make his way back to him. And even though death could have been easier—the child’s uncle did not believe in mercy.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Cr tf cbalmfv ktja atf rijnf kjcafv ab rjs, Jsc mtemxifv, “Gb sbe yfilfnf kf klii cfnfg rff fjmt batfg jujlc?” Ktfgf kjr rbwfatlcu jybea atf mtliv atja qeiifv Jsc lc ogbw atf rajga. Ccv la kjr cba bcis atf rwfii atja mjeuta tlr jaafcalbc yea atf mtliv’r fsfr abb. Ciatbeut, atfgf kjr cbatlcu ecrlutais jybea tlr jqqfjgjcmf yfrlvf atf ygelrfr, mtjlcr, jcv wehhif. Dea, tf ofia atja atlr kbeiv cba yf atflg ijra wffalcu. Ccv fnfc lo Jsc kjcafv ab tjnf atf mtliv cbk, tf mbeivc’a. Llr ojatfg kbeiv cfnfg kjca j rijnf.
“Don’t you feel something?” Cyn asked another question.
The child paused, wanting to ignore the boy before him, but answered after a few seconds anyway. He shook his head. It was a lie. He did feel some pull towards the boy, but he did not understand it. And since he didn’t, he lied and said no.
Cyn knowingly smiled; he may be young, but he had seen many lies before, and he knew that the child lied to him. “It is okay if you don’t,” he decided to follow the child’s fib, “I know that we will meet again. And when we do, this time, I won’t let you go.”
The child looked at the boy like he acted his age. Every boy had silly dreams, and the one before him told him his unbelievable one. The boy seemed to be royal or noble, while he was now a branded slave. Their fate has already been written; they would not meet again.
But, Cyn continued to smile, already believing the words he spoke. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, non-pointy, beautiful hairpin. He set it on the floor inside the cage, “Don’t forget me.” Then, Cyn walked away without glancing back; he believed he didn’t need to because he would see the child again.
Glancing down at the hairpin, the child reached for it, causing his chains to rattle and make a terrible sound with each move. Holding the hairpin, he looked closely at it before slipping it through the cracks of the muzzle. Since he did not wear any clothes, he hid the hairpin in his mouth, for now.
Present
49 glanced at the hairpin in his hand. The hairpin lost its shine long ago but still held some beauty. He always hid the hairpin in different places on his body, not letting anyone find it. Even though he could not remember how he obtained this hairpin, he felt that no one should know because they would take it.
As he continued looking at the hairpin, trying to remember forgotten memories, Prince Cyn entered the room, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He opened his mouth, getting ready to vent his annoyance with his family when he spotted the hairpin in 49’s hand.
Seeing the hairpin unlocked one of his repressed memories instantly. Prince Cyn walked over, sitting next to 49 as he asked, “Where did you get that hairpin?”
49 wanted to hide the hairpin from Prince Cyn, but something told him not to—so he didn’t. “I don’t know.” He honestly didn’t.
Prince Cyn reached over, laying his hand on top of 49’s, covering the hairpin. He moved his face in front of 49, entering his view. “It doesn’t matter because you already found your answer.”
“And what is that?” 49 responded as his words sounded aggressive.
Prince Cyn hummed instead of answering before he captured 49’s lips.
Me. I told you we would meet again, and this time, you are mine now and forever.
Sorry, this was not long. Anyway, I am taking a month’s break in March. After March, I will be back with the second start of this story. I apologize for the month break I am taking; I need it because my mental state has been bad lately. Thank you, once again, for liking this story, I appreciate it!
Take your tiiime! And thanks for the chapter~
Please take care of your mental health first, We appreciate your hard work and will be excited to have you back. Stay safe and healthy.