fairy tale _ 001


"I love you" said the King. "I love you so much."

And he knew that she thought she was a pauper, and a slave; he knew her hands were bloody and her skin made black by the smoke from her own fallout. He knew her better than she knew him, and better than she knew herself.

She was a slave, and he was the King. He was young and had black hair that flowed down naturally, and skin that made you want to touch him, dark eyes that drew you in and held you under. He was the King, and one you could sink into, deep-- hard.

And she was a slave.
And he sold all that he had to buy her back.
Because she was only ever a slave to herself. Her own.
And he loved her.

And he loves her.

She was afraid of herself, but that wasn't her true self. She was afraid of all the darkness that spilled out around her, she was afraid of the things she had yet to conceive of. She waded with a will to plunge deeper, she flirted with the edge, having an unmistakable urge to fly. She was in over her head when she met him, she met him in the slums wearing a dirty face and a battered heart on her shirt sleeve.

He was all beauty, all dark sky's and starlight in that beautiful face. He was words she couldn't find-- he was that space between the stars that sends your mind whirling, unwinding, falling over and over again.

She fell in love despite everything.

The king rode dark horses. He lived on the streets now because he had nothing left. He watched her from the sunburned curb and longed for her to love him. He once owned it all, everything the eye could behold, all that the senses could grasp, but he had given it up. He was homeless now. He was poor-- he was broken now. And he loved her so much, and all he wanted was her.

She bore his mark, his fingerprints she wore on her skin like lace, for she was his, made by him. His own. And yet he could not make her to love him.

And so he waited.


_____

it's a new day, a new week. I had meant this for the weekend, but apparently that didn't happen? So I sat here, sipping my Monday morning coffee and thought "oh vell, what better way to start the week than with a good old fashioned fairy tale."

I actually wrote this one on a recent drive down to Florida, and guess what the cool part is? ITS ABOUT YOU.

Mhmm. You are the girl in the story. I am too. And the king? I'll let you come to figure that one out.

On another note, last week was like a 10k+ word week for me, I'm working on finishing up my first (everrr) adult novel + editing my soon-to-be-published YA novel, which I am extremely, extremely, extremelyyyy stoked to share more with you guys about. I've gotten into this habit (probably a really unhealthy one) of getting up at 6am to write, and staying up until 1/2am to write more. Coffee has been a dear companion. 

So to all the writers, what have you been writing lately? And to readers, what've y'all been devouring lately? Details, y'all! 


k a t e 
P.S. I've returned home to twitter like the prodigal son. So tweet at me and stuff: @latebirdie

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6 people commented on this post.

  1. THIS IS SO FREAKING GORGEOUS. <3 Stop drinking so much coffee, though, it's not good for you. Green tea, my beautiful yogi. Green tea. :D

    love,
    boyz

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  2. This was amazing...and with the photos to go along with it...just perfection. love love love!

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    Replies
    1. aww, thank you so much, Danica! That really means a lot

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  3. IIIII LOOOOOVE THIIIISSSSS!!!!
    love love love love love.

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    Replies
    1. KATE! So good to hear from you, girl. Thank you so much <3 I need to catch up on your blog asap

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comments are like dark chocolate and they make this kid way happy. I love hearing from you guys! (check back because I reply...and I love checking out your blogs, so don't leave me without a link to yours!) ♥