A Prince's Pride

*Aaron*

It doesn't snow very much in Midoor. So rarely that I forget how much I hate it until it comes around. However, it never snows in Midoor the way it snows in the Lower Reach. A neverending barrage of snowflakes pelt the earth as if the sky itself is attempting to repay a horrible vengeance. 

I'm not worried about the tracks we leave as we trudge through the Edge Wood, a section of trees just beyond the border between Midoor and the Lower Reach. The tracks we dig in the slurry are erased by the snowfall moments after we make them. 

I'm sitting atop my horse, looking around at my soldiers. Several of them are on foot, pushing their probably aching legs through the knee high snow. While my legs are dry, I have no protection from the wind as the soldiers in the middle of the group do. I watch as they rotate out with the ones on the outside so they all participate in taking the brunt of the gale, sweeping over the land as if to blow us away. 

Part of me wishes I was down there with them. I'm not the only person on horseback, but knowing most of my soldiers are cold and aching while I'm riding mostly comfortably makes me feel uneasy, like I'm not being fair to them. Even still, I won't give up my horse. My father taught me long ago that to be a king, you have to be willing to accept the privileges that come with it. If you don't set yourself apart from your soldiers, they won't see you as a king. 

I don't like this, and I can tell my soldiers don't either. It's not the cold that bothers us, not entirely. It's the silence. We haven't seen another human soul since we crossed the border into the woods hours ago. We haven't seen any animals. There's been nothing but dead trees, snow, and silence, save for the crunch of the flakes beneath our feet. 

I look up into the sky, to the endless gray above. I've heard stories of how bleak the Lower Reach is. Of the neverending stretch of gray clouds that pour snow upon the nation. Seeing it in person is another story. I'm used to seeing blue during summer months. I'm used to seeing orange and red and purple during sunset. The dull, gray clouds block out anything else 

I continue to look up as we walk along in silence, trusting my horse to keep course. Snowflakes pelt my skin and sting like tiny needles, though my skin has long since grown numb from the frosty air that freezes my breath, turning it into a white fog that joins the clouds above.

"Is…is that a town?" says General Braid. She's riding on horseback to my right, while Sir Oswlad is on my left, also on a horse. 

I follow her gaze and see, dimly through the swirling snow, shadows in vague shapes of buildings. As we grow nearer, I see that they're huts. 

"This must be the village, Hoskow," I say. I haven't looked at a compass, but the navigators at the head of the unit would have led us straight north. Several villages litter the path between the Midoorian border and Mount Zannir. 

“Should we stop?” asks General Braid, looking at me.

We really should. My soldiers are tired and hungry. This village looks deserted, the inhabitants probably evacuated when my front line moved through it on their way to Mount Zannir. 

"Let's search the village, but be careful," I say. "Kill any enemy soldiers you find."

“Yes, sire!” they all chant, though softly. We have no way of knowing who will hear us. 

The soldiers follow my orders, leading us into the village. On approach, I dismount my horse and walk through the snow with them. If there are enemy soldiers hiding here, I'd be an easier target for their archers on my horse.

We move through the village, passing the houses and peering into windows. My soldiers break off into pairs, looking through the houses one by one. By the fourth house, I'm not sure we're going to find anything. 

We don't. We go house by house and without fail, my soldiers leave each empty handed. We approach what I think is similar to a school. It's a large building filled with rooms littered with desks. 

In the back of the main room, we find a door that must lead to a cellar. We open it and slowly descend the stairs, finding a group of people. They cower against the back wall and draw back farther as we reach the floor. 

My soldiers take defensive stances, but look at me for instructions. 

These are no soldiers. They're just citizens. Men, women, teenagers, and children. 

"You're him, aren't you?" asks an older woman. Her pale face is grubby with dirt, her clothes torn and patched. "Aaron Heris, King of Midoor?"

"I am," I say. 

"You're here to save us from the tyranny of King Zannir," says an older man. He's sitting next to two teenage boys. I saw them clutch each other's hands almost impulsively when we entered. I'm sure they're a couple. 

"Tyranny?" I echo. For some reason, I'd always thought the citizens of the Lower Reach followed King Zannir's ideals. That they, too, hated what my family has done. What a foolish belief that was. Haven't my own citizens taught me that the population doesn't always default to their monarch?

"Oh, yes," says the man. "King Zannir was never a kind king, but he's put everything into this war and our people are near to starving."

A child breaks away from a girl who's clutching onto him. She's too young to be his mother. Is she his sister? He walks up to me, reaches up, and grabs the hem of my coat, looking at me. He can't be older than six. 

"Are you going to stop the bad man?" he asks. 

"I will," I promise him. "I'm going to stop him."

The boy looks up at me with a hopeful smile, his eyes wide. 

"David, come back here!" hisses the girl who was holding him. He totters back to her and she wraps her arms around him. She's looking at me with worry in her eyes, but she's in the minority. Everyone else looks hopeful.

"Let's get out of here," I say to my soldiers. I know they're tired. I know they need to rest, but I don't want to make any of the citizens here uncomfortable.

A man stands up in the back of the group. 

"We have some food," he says. "Some bread and some cheese. We could feed your soldiers."

I look around at the citizens. It's obvious they're poor. Their clothes are tattered, the adults look thin. The children look to be better fed than them, so I'm sure they're missing meals to feed the children. Even the Slummites of Crown City look better fed than this group.

"No," I tell him. "You should keep your food. We're going to leave you. It would be best if you hid here until everything has settled." 

I turn to leave, but look back at the last second and take the time to look each of them in the eyes. 

"This is my promise to you," I say, "that when we've usurped King Zannir, things will change for you. We have plans for the Lower Reach. My father, the late King Theodore, taught me that a nation is only as well off as the citizens that are considered its lowest class. Under our rule, I guarantee you a happier, a safer, a more fulfilled life."

I see the hope blossom in the eyes of most of them, though many of them wear looks of marked distrust. They see this as my war too. And it is. But it's also theirs. I don't just fight for myself. I don't just fight for my people. I fight for them. 

***

It’s hours later when we reach the encampment our soldiers have placed between the villages of Hoskow and Denrall. Thankfully, it’s situated in a cave, protecting us from the elements. I’m immediately led to the largest tent in the cavern, much larger than the next largest. I think, at first, that this is the command tent, used as a point where we will plan our next move. 

It’s not.

The tent I’m led to is my personal tent. I try to remember my father’s words, about accepting my privileges as king, as I enter alone. This tent consists of three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room, and a bathroom, though the toilet is nothing more than a large pot with a seat on it.

I should make myself get used to this kind of thing. Especially if our plans for the Lower Reach come to fruition, I’ll need to get used to living in a higher station than even my father had achieved.

So I use the bathroom. I rest in the sitting room. I take a nap in the bedroom, which has a real bed in it. I’m sure most, if not all, of my soldiers are sleeping in sleeping bags upon the cold stone floor of the cave. I have to keep reminding myself that I am their king. I’m expected to live in more lavish conditions than them. Still, it makes me uneasy. 

I spent a lot of time deciding I wouldn’t be a king like my father. Why, then, is this the creed I hold most closely to my heart? Why am I so willing to let my soldiers sleep on the cold, hard ground, while I am laying on a soft mattress? 

“Your Majesty?” comes a voice through the folds of my tent. 

I stand up from my bed and peek out the opening of the tent to see General Braid standing there. Her skin is so dark, she almost looks like nothing more than a walking suit of armor in the dim light of the cave, though her white wool cap, which protects her bald head from the cold, seems to shine brightly. 

“What is it, General?” I ask.

“Sire, I’m sorry to wake you, but it is time to plan the rest of the journey. From here, we will make our way toward the capital of Luxom. We will need to stop at Rullox, which we will make our base of operations until the siege is complete.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m in the command tent, which is about half the size of mine, standing around a table covered with a map of the area.

“Your Majesty,” says Captain Rill, a rather short man with long hair tied in a ponytail and a lumberjack’s beard who led the front line to Rullox, “we were not able to being siege preparations on Luxom. Our SOAs circled the mountain, but could find no tunnels into the city, other than the one behind the city of Rullox. We’ve stationed our soldiers around the walls of the city. The Lower Reach is holding firm and fighting has not yet broken out.” 

“Zannir Path,” says Braid, indicating the only path on the map leading up to the mountain, “is the only road we know leading into the mountain itself. As Captain Rill mentioned, it sits directly in front of the opening to the path leading to Luxom. Taking control of Rullox is our first priority. After that, we enter the tunnel. Unfortunately, it’s a chokepoint the enemy can use against us. The tunnel into the mountain seems wide enough to fit maybe ten soldiers, shoulder to shoulder.”

“Our front should be eight,” I say, “to give enough room for our soldiers to use their weapons.”

“I agree,” says Braid. “We move in as rows of eight, with alternating waves of archers and spearmen. Our king should be at least ten waves back and—”

“No,” I say, cutting across her, “I’ll be in the fourth wave. King Zannir won’t be expecting it and I highly suspect he’ll want me taken alive. It will give his soldiers pause.”

“Your Majesty,” says Oswald, “I don’t think—”

“That’s my final word,” I say. I can see the discomfort in my soldiers’ eyes. I know what’s going to happen next. My father has prepared me for this.

Put yourself in danger, he said, and see how they come to your aid. If they try to defend you, if they risk their lives above your own, you know you’ve done right as a king. A king is nothing without the loyalty of his subjects, and your soldiers are the closest subjects you’ll ever rule.

“No,” says a soldier. I don’t know her name. I can’t possibly know them all. “Your Majesty, please forgive my outburst, but you can’t be that far forward in the advance. I will take your spot, and you take mine. I’m scheduled in the sixth wave.”

This is one of the few things that have validated my right to rule, in my opinion. That this soldier is willing to give her life for mine.

“Thank you, soldier,” I say, deciding to push it farther, “but I can’t ask you to risk your life like that. Why would you even offer?”

“My name is Gabriella Wraith, Your Majesty,” she says, “and I am here because your father made it legal for me to marry my wife, Andra. You father paved the way for me to marry her. You married your husband, King Milo, who was a servant. You hold the very values that I, myself, see as a driving force in Midoorian history. Our symbol is a heart made of swords. Love is a battle, a battle you and I have fought with everything we have. I would happily lay my life down for you, my king, and for King Milo.”

Everyone is silent for a moment before Wraith speaks again. In a ringing voice filled with pride, she says, “Amor vincit omnia!”

It means, “love conquers all” in Latin. The motto of my family. The motto of my life. 

“Thank you,” I say in almost a whisper. “We will move on Rullox at daybreak. Sleep, eat, and relax. Tomorrow, we begin our assault.”

***

The next morning, it's clear we won't be able to start the assault after all. 

I'm standing at the mouth of our cave, staring out at the snowstorm. The flurry of ice is coming down in an almost continuous, unbroken sheet of white.  It’s nearly a two hour ride to Rullox from here. If we were to venture out into this, we would surely get lost or die from the frost.

I wonder what my soldiers stationed outside Rullox are doing. Have they found shelter in a cave nearby? Did Captain Rill, upon his return to them, order them to attack when the blizzard began? 

"You're not thinking of going out there, are you?" asks Oswald, forever behind me. 

"No," I tell him. "I value the lives of my soldiers too much to risk it. I am worried, though. King Zannir knows we're here, in the Lower Reach. This storm will give him time to prepare, to bolster his defenses. Luxom is protected from this storm, sitting inside the mountain.”

This isn't the most pressing of my worries though. This encampment has only enough food to hold my forces for two days. If this storm continues beyond that, food will become an issue. Water isn't a problem. We can melt and boil the snow, making it fit for drinking. 

Four days later, the storm shows no signs of abating. My soldiers are hungry and I've ordered the food reserves set aside for me specifically to be distributed out among them, but it won’t be enough. 

"Sire," says General Braid as she joins me by the mouth of the cave. I can't stop staring at the swirling snow. I want to know the moment it lessens so we can begin the approach to Luxom. "I think it's time we consider hunting. We need food."

I can't argue with her logic, but I'm worried about losing men and women in the whiteout. Still, we do need food. 

"Put together a team of hunters," I say. "We're going hunting."

*One Year Ago*

*Aaron*

It’s always so weird to me when I come into my room and see a servant other than Milo cleaning up. True, he has to have some days off, though we both hate them. I’d rather watch him bend over and pick up the clothes I throw all around the floor for the express reason of watching him clean them up.

Today, it’s Miriam Goldberg, a middle aged woman with red hair and a fussy manner. 

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she says to me as I enter, her arms laden with dirty laundry. I only just remembered that I’d thrown the clothes everywhere as I do when Milo is to clean. I usually try to keep them contained in the hamper when it’s another servant.

“Sorry about the mess, Miriam,” I tell her, feeling guilty.

“Oh, not at all, my prince. It is an honor to clean up after the Royal Family.” She bows and leaves the room, her arms clutched around my dirty clothing. No doubt she’ll be complaining to the other servants about it tonight.

I’m surprised a moment later when Riley comes into my room wearing one of her riding dresses. I’ve never understood why she doesn’t just wear pants when she goes out. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Riley wearing pants since I was twelve.

“Are you going somewhere today?” I ask.

“We are going out today,” she says. “You, Milo, and I are going riding through the Crown Wood. Oswald will accompany us.”

“Milo doesn’t work today,” I say.

“Yeah, no duh,” she retorts. “He’s already waiting for us by the stables. I thought we could go out, I could practice my archery, and you two could be all gross and couple-y. I’ve already told Father we’re going to the cabin; they won’t miss us.”

I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. 

“That sounds great, thanks, Riley!” I say enthusiastically and start for the door.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” she asks, looking at my outfit. I look down, too, and am confused. I’m wearing a normal shirt and pants.

“What’s wrong with this?” I ask.

“Aaron, this is a date for you and Milo. You should dress nicely.”

“Milo doesn’t care what I’m wearing. I probably won’t even be wearing it for long.”

“Ew!” she says, pulling a face. “I don’t want to know about what you two are going to do. And, in any case, I convinced Milo to dress nicely as well. You should do the same.”

I roll my eyes at her, but she just shuts the door. So, I change my clothes, putting on a soft, blue cotton shirt that is just a little too tight, showing off my muscular body, and a pair of riding shorts that hug my ass. Not nice in the way Riley meant, probably, but Milo will appreciate it.

When I open the door and she looks at my clothes, she just rolls her eyes.

“Boys are so predictable,” she says, which makes me wonder what Milo is wearing.

Together with Oswald, my sister and I leave the palace and make our way to the stables which are situated on the far side of the entrance square. Milo is waiting there, wearing a baggy pair of pants that make his cock very visible and a slightly baggy shirt. Something about baggy clothing always got to me, and he knows it.

“You look very great,” I say, my eyes staring at his bulge.

“Are you saying that to me, or to—”

“Gods, can you two please stop?” asks Riley. “You’re making me regret this idea.”

“Sorry, Princess,” says Milo. “Sincerely, thank you for coming up with this plan. It’ll be nice to get away from the palace, where we can just be ourselves.”

And so, thirty minutes later, Riley, Milo, Oswald, and myself are trotting through the Crown Wood, heading for a small cabin a half mile away from our spot. As we get farther into the wood, Milo and I direct our horses closer together and we clutch hands, though that doesn’t last long. The terrain in the forest isn’t smooth enough for our horses to stay steady so our fingers can stay locked.

Finally, after what feels like far too long, we approach the cabin. Unlike the palace, there are no guards here. They’re only stationed here when one of us wants to use it for some purpose.

“Oh, no, my prince,” says Oswald. “I forgot to inform Commander Reil that we were coming out here so he could position guards around the cabin. What an oversight on my part.” I can see he’s smiling. He didn’t forget, of course. Xander Reil, Commander of the Crown Guard, won’t like that, but I’ll make sure nothing happens to Oswald.

Though this cabin is only used by the Royal Family, we have no way of knowing if there are squatters inside right now. Normally, the Crown Guard would perform a sweep of the area to make sure it’s safe before my family’s arrival.

Instead, Oswald enters alone and calls the all clear a moment later.

When we dismount our horses, Milo goes into servant mode immediately. Since he knows to be less attendant to me when we’re just with Riley, he goes to her and tries to help her unload her things.

“No, no, Milo,” she says. “I can handle it.” 

Riley slides off her horse and lands easily. Her dressed hiked slightly up her legs, revealing hiking boots, but I don’t say anything.

“Lets get into the cabin,” I tell Milo. I want to be alone with him desperately.

“Surely you guys can do that later,” says Riley, but I ignore her. Milo and I grab our stuff of the back of our horse and head straight inside, shutting the door behind us.

The word cabin doesn’t really describe this place. It has a full bathroom, full kitchen, living room, and three full bedrooms, along with a cellar, an attic, and a room for a servant and guard to sleep in. Some peoples’ houses aren’t this big.

“Maybe Riley is right,” says Milo, though he’s pulling his shirt up over his head, exposing his body. I follow suit, pulling my own shirt up and off.

“How’s that?” I ask as we step toward each other.

“We…” Milo says, his words punctuated by our kissing, “could do this…later and…set up camp or…something now.”

“We’ll do that after,” I tell him. He drops to his knees and puts his hands on the waistband on my pants but before he can pull them down, there’s a knock on the window and I look to see Riley peering in.

“Close the damn blinds, you pervs. And go to your room!”

Laughing, we link our hands and move into one of the bedrooms, the one I always use when I’m here.

The door barely has time to shut before Milo pushes me up against the wall, looking down at my shirtless body. I make sure to flex my abs to give him a good show and when our eyes meet, I see that hunger that I love so much. A hunger that says he wants to devour me.

He pushes his lips onto mine, his hands on my waist. I let out a hiss and dig my fingers into his shoulder blades when he bites my lip and pulls back, letting the skin slide between his teeth. He kisses my neck, just under my jawline and I feel myself melting in his arms.

“Oh, Gods, Milo, what are you doing to me?” I ask.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he says, his hand now sliding down the side of my waist and crossing over the front to rub my hard cock through my pants. I pant into his mouth as our lips meet again and he rubs even harder, causing precum to leak out and get absorbed by my pants. My cock is so hard, it feels as though it’s trying to rip right through the fabric. As though it yearns for his hand more than a man in the desert yearns for water.

His hand leaves my groin as he rakes his fingers lightly up to my abs, where he rests it, stroking the tight muscles there.

“You’re such a tease,” I whisper, causing him to smile. 

He moves his hand down, letting his fingers skate along the line of my waistband for just a moment before digging his fingers beneath it and wrapping his hand around my cock. He starts to stroke me and I can’t help but thrust my cock through his hand. It feels so fucking good, I could bust right here and now, but I won’t.

He kisses me again as he works my cock, our tongues doing a tango in the space where our lips meet. It’s me who breaks away, moving away from the wall. I pull my pants off, kicking them aside, and drop to my knees before him. His cock is also hard, pointing straight out from his body. The baggy pants have no chance at holding it back. 

I kiss the tip, and Milo lets out a small sigh which turns into a gasp as I pull his cock, the fabric of his pants wrapped around it, into my mouth. I push his cock to the side so it lays against his body and run my mouth along it’s length, looking up into his eyes. He runs his hand over my head, fingers raking through my hair.

I want his cock in my mouth right now, so I pull his pants down and help him out of them before throwing them on top of my own. I lift his cock so it’s pointing up and stick my tongue out, running it up along the underside.

“Mmm,” he moans into his mouth, then he lets out a small gasp as my lips wrap around the head and I push my head forward, letting his cock slide into my throat. He grips my head and I still, letting him move his hips back and forth, thrusting in and out of my tightening throat. 

He pulls all the way out and I look up at him, my mouth open, my tongue sticking out. He grabs the base of his cock and slaps the head gently against my tongue, splattering it with precum, then pushes it back in, so my nose rests against his pubes. He starts to fuck my throat, fast and hard. I can’t help but stroke myself as he works.

When he finally pulls out, I take in a heaving breath, but I don’t want to stop touching him. I grip his cock again, using my saliva as lube as I stroke him and move my mouth to his sack, sucking one of his balls into my mouth.

“Oh, fuck, that feels so good,” he moans, gripping my hair in his fingers. “Let’s move to the bed.”

I stand and start to move to the bed, but he grabs my chin and pulls me in for another kiss. I know there’s drool running down my face, but I know he doesn’t care. He pushes me backwards until I sit on the bed, then drops to his knees.

I’m already so close to cumming, I don’t want him to touch my cock yet, so I lift my legs, exposing my ass to him. He moves in, his expert tongue working my hole over. He plunges in, forcing his tongue deep inside me, almost reaching my prostate. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” I moan, “eat that fucking hole.”

And he does. He eats me out like he’s never eaten me out before, his tongue working double time, sending spiraling whips of ecstasy over my shuddering body. He’s getting my hole nice and wet for that fat cock of his.

“Gods, you taste so good,” he says when he pulls back. I glance down and see him looking at my hole, admiring it. 

I can’t see anything but his head, so I’m not prepared for when he shoves two fingers inside me. It’s not his cock, but damn it feels so good. He stands so he can watch my face, my expression, as he works my hole with his fingers, rubbing his own cock while he does so.

I stare into his eyes and feel a spark in the air as he admires me while his fingers move in and out of me. As he twists his fingers in my slick hole, making me gasp with pleasure. He turns his fingers so he can press my prostate and I feel a jolt shoot through my cock.

He massages, pressing into it, and my cock being to leak precum. The thick, sticky substance rolls down my cock, collecting at the base as he presses.

“Oh, Gods, right there, right there,” I moan loudly.

“You like that?” he asks. “Does that feel good?”

“It feels…amazing!” I gasp. I feel my balls clench against my body as my orgasm starts to build. “Oh, Gods, I’m cumming!” I almost shout. He presses harder, grinding his fingers into my prostate as if it’s his job. As if his life depended on it.

I shoot my load, which sprays across my abs and chest in long ropes, but Milo doesn’t stop. He works my prostate even harder, causing my cock to gush as it never has before and sending almost painful flutters of ecstasy rippling through my body.

He pulls his fingers out, but I know he isn’t done. He pulls a small bottle of lube out of our bag and slathers it on his cock, then shoves his meat into me, all the way to his balls.

He starts to fuck me, hard and fast, his hands clamped around my thighs. I can feel his balls slapping against me as he thrusts in and out of my hole, his cock slamming into my prostate with every thrust. I’m gasping and moaning his name.

I want to do more than lay here and take it. I want to ride him, but each thrust sends a rocket of pleasure through me, disabling me entirely. My eyes roll up into the back of my head as he pounds me. I barely notice when he closes my legs and turns me on my side and lifts his leg, planting his foot on the bed. He grabs my shoulder in one hand and grips my left thigh in the other, then uses this new angle to pound me.

His cock slides in and out of me with ease and I have to pull a pillow from the bed and shove my face into it so my moaning can’t be heard by Riley and Oswald outside. There’s no way I could be quiet while he does this. I’m practically screaming in ecstasy as his cock works my hole, the entire bed shaking as he fucks me harder than ever before.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so fucking tight, baby,” he says. “I’m close…I’m so close…I’m going to—” his words turn into a groan as he thrusts inside me, slamming his body into mine and somehow driving his cock in even deeper. I feel it swell inside me, filling with cum, before it explodes, and warm seed fills me inside. I gasp into the pillow, biting down on it as he pumps his cum inside me.

***

Later in the day, just before sunset, we decide to build a fire on the hill that’s mine and Milo’s spot, overlooking the valley. Riley, Milo, and I are sitting around the fire in chairs, Milo on my lap, while Oswald circles around us as if expecting an attack. Milo and I had to change our clothes, as both our pants had precum staining them.

I glance over at a nearby cluster of trees. Several of them have had wooden targets attached to them for archery practice, and it’s clear Riley’s been practicing. Only one of her arrows missed the bullseye, though it was by less than an inch.

“You’re getting really good, Your Highness,” says Milo, also looking at the targets.

“Thank you, Milo. Father doesn’t want me practicing archery, but I think it’ll come in handy one day.”

“Hopefully not,” I say. “I’d rather you didn’t have to shoot anyone.”

“What? You don’t think a woman can take care of herself?” asks Riley. 

“Please,” I say with a dismissive wave of my hand. “I’d just be sorry for the poor soul who found himself on the wrong end of your bow.”

Riley smiles in a pleased way at that and we dissolve into silence, looking out over the valley at the sky. The blue is fading away, a blossom of red and orange erupting behind Crown City from where the sun is setting to the west. When I look back at Riley, I notice she isn’t looking at the sunset, but she’s watching us.

“What?” I ask her, and Milo looks at her too.

“I’m just so happy you found someone who loves you as much as Milo does,” she says. “You’re so much happier when he’s around.”

I look to Milo and he smiles. I smile back and kiss him, pressing hard into his lips.

“Ew!” says Riley. “Get a room, you two!”

“That’s not a bad idea, actually,” says Milo, looking at me. “Ready for round two?”

“No, please don’t,” says Riley and Milo and I laugh. “I don’t want to wait out here while you two go at it again.”

Milo snuggles in closer to me, his head underneath my chin, as I wrap my arms around him. We both look out at the beautiful spray of colors streaking across the sky and the three of us watch as the sun sets below the horizon.