Act 1. Scene 1.
Tell me, is there such thing like coincidence?
Act 1. Scene 3.
Are we all just arrogant creatures, belittling Universe's ways to entangle souls and places and events and thoughts and emotions, then just wrap them all up in a box called 'coincidence'?
Act 1. Scene 5.
Aren't you just interesting? Tell me what you're hiding behind those walls. A treasure chest? Forest of monsters?
Wait. It's not like I should care either way - and why you, out of all people?
Act 1. Scene 7.
I am nice and in control. Nice and in control.
You shall not have any power over me.
Act 2. Scene 10.
Sitting on the edge of the bench - I was staring at you.
From the tip of your monochrome shoes, to the top of your perfectly well polished hair.
The more I study your being, the more beautiful you get.
(Trying to blame it on my overly exaggerated shallowness - believing that a beautiful fool is my least suspicious weapon)
But I want more - but even then, I don't think more would be enough.
I want to drink your words and read your thoughts, wear your laughters like lace undergarment and replay your hazy eyes in my sight like a Sunday morning tune, wrapped in your scent and arm while listening to your fear and dream.
More - I heard my heart asking.
Studying every movement - like an eagle to her prey.
Closely watching as your lips are forming words, disguising my longing eyes as if I was paying better attention.
I am fine - I'm in control - again, or so I thought.
Act 2. Scene 5.
I am drowning - in words, in feelings, in fear, in everything I can't pinpoint.
(And I am scared)
The shape of your figure that I can barely recall with my eyes?
Our forming words that answer one another like music sheets & melodies?
Your echoing vocabularies that decide to latch onto my memories?
I am not in control - and I need to know why.
Act 2. Scene 11. Part 1.
Our kiss was a secret handshake, a passcode, a gateway drug that lets my heart know I was heading towards the direction I didn't know I have been looking for; you.
One glance at you and my spine melts like metal under blowtorches, dripping down, the way the junction of my thighs are behaving, and my stomach? It decided to act funny. So is this what rom-coms called butterflies?
City lights, the stars, and the moon tried their best, flirting with my sights, and still - I couldn't move my glance from you.
Act 2. Scene 17.
We love like emissaries, leaving mark as traceless as possible.
I secretly wish it was evident enough, that any innocent glance would freeze our act on their memory.
I secretly hope we'd leave our trace in this world, because we were beautiful.
With full pride and vanity, I'd say too beautiful to go down in history; vanished, and forgotten.
There is nothing wrong in wishing that somehow, someday, somewhere, this bulk of emotion could find its way out in this world.
There is nothing wrong in feeling this much, this intense, this beautiful, about one another - or is it?
Nothing has every felt this right, and no wrong has ever felt this good.
Act 2. Scene 11. Part 2.
There was no clean way to enter this war zone, being a seasoned crown wearer in blood bath, I thought I'd manage.
Around us, a cutthroat land where only the perverse ones, chosen ones, would be standing still.
Each ticking second is a torture knowing I couldn't lay my finger on you and call you mine - wholly, greedily, very humanly; mine -
but who am I even kidding?
Calling you mine is a cakewalk scale of nuisance to compare to what life has been before you.
To know when I first lay my eyes on you, life has been chaptered into two, before I met you, and us, right now.
You woke me up from my emotional hibernation and now I am craving only you.
Act 2. Scene 30.
The secret is, my love for you is the only empire I would ever build.
You give everything an embodiment when I was close enough to give up searching for its meaning.
For the very first time I wouldn't mind the bruises on my bare skin.
For the very first time I wouldn't mind the extra miles I'd crawl for.
For the very first time I know I wouldn't be building only gardens, only castles, or any other 'only'.
For the very first time I am kind to myself, I am listening to what I truly want.
For the very first time I know, this will be worth it.
Wait - was that a war tactic I just heard? You truly are magnificent.
I would be more than honored to let you be in charge.
Act 3. Scene 1.
So what will happen if it falls, like most kingdoms do?
Fair question.
But honey, do you know that to fall deeply for someone is to take a gigantic leap of faith - with no safe landing guaranteed, and despite the lack of assurance, nothing feels more certain?
Me? I've seen days when I thought this heart was made of stone, days when people keep on telling me so - and I grew to believe it too.
Now I found something I didn't know I was looking for.
Something I wasn't aware was absent from me.
Alive, fragile, and yet never felt so empowered - so what couldn't I risk for it?
Epilogue.
They say The Universe falls in love with a stubborn heart - and today I will be selfishly, stubbornly, demand and ask for Her blessings.
I want this, like nothing I have ever wanted before, and with a wishful heart, I am humbly asking.
They say when one truly wants something, The Universe will also conspire them to achieve it - so mote it be.
Long live The King.
Long live my King.
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