Having the Prince of Hearts enamoured with you came with its challenges. Sure, immunity to his deathly kisses was great. But when someone says a bad word against you, he becomes this growling angry pile of blond beauty.

Lets set the scene; a dazzling ball in the North, where you were laced up in pale pink shimmering satin and silk, lined with flowered lace and ribbons, making you feel utterly glamorous. These little drinks in crystal bottles labelled, luck, heartbreak, lust and madness.

Tiny balls of starlight dances around the highly arched ballroom, mosaics taking their place on the ceiling between wooden arches, and the glittering gold and white flooring that echoes with each footstep of a heeled slipper.

Couples mingle, and a few even share hidden embraces, lips locked and tongues tangling treacherously deep, all blanketed by the shadows and lack of intuitive candlelight.

Jacks is the image of arrogance and beauty. Leaning against a mantle, a glittering red apple in his hand as he tosses it up, and down. He takes a slow bite, and grins as he sees you enter. Clad in that pretty gown, hair in soft curls and that soft smile on your rosebud lips.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” He drawls, lifting his partial weight on the mantle to stand upright, taking lazy steps to you. He takes your hand and kisses it gently, lips cool yet lush.

After hours of being twirler and sneaky kisses, and a small mishap with a particularly rude gentleman and a glass of sparkling rose wine, you were searching for Jacks. Your eyes latch onto him as you spot him stepping out of an open portrait, closing it as he wipes away something and smudging it across the white of his shirt. Something.. red.

Disappointment floods you, and your smile falls. You’d reiterated to him countless times never to kill someone for something as silly as a squabble over a drink, but here he is, having done it.

His eyes fall to yours and that easy mask of adoration and arrogance slips into place quickly. “My love,” he smirks, but it falters as he eyes your expression. He sighs a moment later, looking away. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Jacks, it’s someone’s life.” You couldn’t count how many times you’d been over this.

“And it’s you, my darling, you never seem to understand how significant your happiness is to me.”

“You still can’t-“

“Shh.” He cuts you off by a soft kiss.