break your throne.

Fakir thinks, we'll leave. It's the one reason he joins the Academy, the one reason to show Mytho to the world. It's not unheard for the best students to be taken into prestigious ballet companies all over the world, for them never to return to Kinkan.

Fakir makes sure that everyone, even the teachers, fall a little in love with the careful grace of the heartless prince, just enough that they don't notice the way his eyes are empty, just focus on the way his dancing breaks your heart. Even like this, Mytho is a flame that attracts others to him, and Fakir decides to use it, and he becomes the shadow of those careful steps.

And when they are all alone, he kneels in front of Mytho, wraps bandages around his ankles, helps him undress, does his best not to be moved by the frailty of his shoulders, by how easy it would be to crush him and watch him crumble apart. Mytho moves when and how Fakir tells him to, and through the sick feeling of such a proud prince is reduced to a puppet, something dark and heavy stirs in Fakir's stomach, for all that he does his best to ignore it.

It's not important, Fakir tells himself. Mytho sleeps when he tells him to do so, and as long as that doesn't change, he can keep him safe. It will all be worthy, he thinks, for when the two of them can break free of a story that wants to kill them both.