The Beach

Under the royal poinciana's vibrant orange blooms, he stood expectant, his hands clasped behind his back. As I entered the garden, his eyes locked onto mine, and he spoke my name, "Aurora," for the fifth time, his voice low and husky. I couldn't help but shoot him an annoyed glance, my patience wearing thin.

"I didn't mean to lie to you," he said, closing the distance between us, his stride confident and purposeful. I felt a flutter in my chest as he drew near, his shadow engulfing me and blocking out the warm sunlight.

"So, what exactly did you mean to do?" I snapped, my tone sharper than intended. Realising my rudeness, I collected myself, hanging my head in a subtle nod.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "I do it all the time. Sometimes I just need a little escape from being...all this." He gestured to his royal attire. "That day, we talked t felt like we were friends. I haven't had that in years." His voice dropped, taking on a vulnerable tone. "I can disguise myself and