The Uncrowned King

Death I

Lance Presto is having a pleasant morning, humming the lyrics of Christ Brown ‘Next to you’ from the radio under his breathe. They had to take detour for some art supplies still needed for the props, like some glitters and another set of glue guns and food. Reverie and Arthur went out to do both. While he was left with Éclair in the backseat of the still purring BMW.

It’s always pleasant when you have the woman you like napping on your lap. Éclair could sleep anywhere whenever she wants to. Space doesn’t really matter.

His right hand combed through the wild tresses of black hair spilling on his lap to sooth his nerves. Its not everyday Lance had Éclair alone like this with her guard down. He had to be careful not to lose his cool.

“Hey.” Lance blinked at the sight of turquoise eyes reflecting his face as its owner look up to him.

His fingers grip on her hair as his heart leaped in his throat. Lance love seeing his reflection in her eyes. Love seeing those twin moles under her right eye in close up. Only a number of people could get this close to her without getting punch on the throat. And Lance is one of them, the giddiness never left him.

“Yeah?”

“Find another Juliet.” She said, blinking sleepily.

“No.” He heard it a lot of times, the answer was already at the tip of his tongue.

Éclair sighed. The soft sound came out from her pouty lips he couldn’t help but stare at it. “I’m not cut out for it. I don’t—”

“You do.”

“Lance. I don’t know how to express love. I can’t show the ‘I’m in love’ look. Roger said so.” She sighed again, this time with exasperation. She shut her eyes to hide the glint of irritation but he still caught a glimpse of it.

“Don’t listen to Roger. Since when he’s the expert? Just be who you are. I don’t need you to look at me like a starry eyed i***t. I had enough of those.”

Éclair pursed her lips as her brows furrowed. Lance had to shut his own eyes in order to avoid temptation. That was dangerous habit of hers.

“Then how should I look at you?”

Éclair was still pouting when he snapped his eyes opened. Unfortunately, she was glaring at her own hands strangling the air to see the desire in his eyes. Even if she sees it, he doubts she would understand it.

Never has he known someone so dense than Éclair. It was borderline innocent. But innocence and Éclair in a same sentence was strange concept.

Lance had seen her break a guy’s arm twice her height and personally escort them in the hospital with a polite look on her face. He was there when she kicked Rosa in the abdomen hard into the pool, the girl had to be fished out throwing up bile, beer and dirty pool water.

It was hard to explain.

And ‘dense’ is the only thing Lance could word it. Extremely one at that.

“Like you always do.”

“With annoyance?” She gave him an adorable puzzled look.

Lance chuckled. “No. When you watch me dance.” Warmth spread throughout his body from the images of her face watching him in his routines.

“Like how?”

“Like you’re interested.” In me, he thought.

“Hmm. Can do that. Just imagine you dancing.” She smiled, and it send the butterflies in his stomach flutter like crazy.

“Guess, we should practice the kissing scenes too.”

His brain suddenly short-circuited. “Huh?”

“The kissing scenes, Lance. It was not Romeo and Juliet without the kissing. According to Reverie.”

Lance nodded numbly. Still reeling from the fact that Éclair, the one who threatened their so called directors about the kissing scenes, wanted to practice them.

“You said it’s my call. So I’m calling it now.”

He did. It was a choice he had given her. After all, He had pressure her on the role.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m curious.” Éclair eyes fixated on his lips. Electrifying all the nerves in his body back to life.

Then she moved, twisting her body to face him on all fours.

He blinked at the hand placed daintily on his thigh, naughty thoughts travelling in his mind for a mile in a minute. He forgot his own fingers entwined in her hair.

“Can I?” Éclair asked so innocently, her face alight in curious fixation. Lance might have stopped breathing right there and then.

“Shit.” He murmured, staring dumbly at her.

“You said it’s my call.” Her face scrunched up sullenly as she started to back away from him.

Lance immediately came to his senses and curled his fingers on her hair which caught her notice.

“Are you asking to kiss me?” Boy, he had to ask.

What is this role reversal? It’s not just right.

“Can I?” Her eyes went from her tangled hair back to his face.

Yes! Lance wanted to exclaim but reign in his emotions. God, he was wishing for this but it is beyond what he expect. He need to calm down. His self-control was slipping.

“Alright.” He answered instead, face smoothed in mock calmness.

“Then, close your eyes.” Éclair demanded cutely, looking oddly satisfied.

His fingers twitched and accidentally tug her hair but Éclair didn’t pay it any attention. She was good at that. Tuning everything out and focus on one thing.

This time it was his lips. God. It’s enough to drive him crazy.

Lance heaved out a deep breath and smoothed out his face. And dutifully close his eyes. His heart thundered in his chest with anticipation as his mind tightens all control on his chaotic body reaction.

It was just a peck.

A soft peck on lips that is so Éclair it snapped his eyes open and smashed through his control.

Éclair blinked at him, face inches away. Confusion reigning on her usually bored face.

“Not enough?” He asked, voice deep from all the pent up frustration the woman had given him. The need to put things back on track urging him to move.

There was question in her eyes. Like her curiosity was not properly met. Should I go for it again? Is what she's clearly thinking.

He knows that look. He thrives for that look.

Lance licked on his lips, still tingling from that tiny peck. “Good. Let me.”

He didn’t wait for her answer and tug on her hair. Lance swallowed her complaints, wasted no time slipping his tongue inside her mouth and cupped the back of her head with his right hand. Leisurely explored the depths of her mouth, tongue caressing and petting, rubbing and stroking. The pit of his stomach flared with heat when he tasted dark chocolate.

His left hand rested on small of her back, just above the hem of her jeans. Fingers restlessly brushing the sliver of expose skin enough to make her shiver.

“Lance—” Eclair moaned out in dazed.

He’s going to die. She’ll break his bones after she turned his mind into mush.

“Then move not, while my prayers effect I take. Thus from my lips, by thine, my sin is purged.” Lance blurted out in panic, had search his mind for an excuse and found Shakespeare.

Lance leaned back to gaze on her face. He dazedly drank the vision of her attractively flushed cheeks, pouty lips glistening with saliva and breathing heavily.

Heaven help him.

He watched as her eyes fluttered open. Beautiful lidded turquoise eyes look up at him with uncertainty, a bit of fear, plenty of confusion and a rare treat of lust.

Lance rested his forehead on hers, hoping and wanting more. Just one more.

“Then have my lips the sin they have took?” Éclair answered softly, hesitantly. Her hands curled on his sides, kneading. So freakin’ cute.

“Sin from my lips? O trespass sweet urged! Give me my sin again.” He muttered. The words coming out in a rush.

He move to kiss her again. And Éclair, god, Eclair meet his lips. It was a heady feeling as he coaxed her to play with him, applying pressure on her lower back until she fully curves into him. Her scent, sweet and fruity continuously enticed his already intoxicated mind.

Éclair moaned at the sudden hardness of his kiss and the hand in her hair tightened in response.

Éclair pulled back with smack, breathless and with a string of saliva between them. Face full on panicking red. She immediately hid her face on his chest, arms enveloping him.

A moment. He only had a moment to regret at the fact that of all the things sweet things he could tell her; it was lines from a Shakespearian tragedy he pulled out of his head.

He could have just confessed! The stage had been set! It was at the tip of his tongue! God, he’s an i***t! Of all things, Shakespeare!

“Is that the same tongue you shove on Rosa’s throat?”

It was like a bucket of ice thrown over the buzzing heat of his body. His internal panicking halted.

“Jesus Christ, Éclair!” Lance groaned, rubbing his free hand on his face. The other was still stuck in her hair. “I just kissed you while reciting Shakespearian lines and that’s what you think!? It was her who kissed me! I was drunk for f***s sake!”

“Sorry. I just remember I kicked her.” Éclair mumbled on his chest, arms tightening around him.

Fucking Rosa.

“I got my lines right. Right?” She asked, tilting her head up to him. Her chin resting on his chest.

He groaned again. f*****g Shakespeare.

How on earth can she be this dense?

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Lance answered tightly, extremely frustrated. He slowly ease his hand out of her hair. Strands of black stubbornly clung in his fingers. Shaking fingers. “Don’t. Don’t move. Your hair is a mess.”

“Whose fault was it?” Eclair retorted back, thumping his chest with a fist. “And will you please calm down? Is your heart going to war or something? It sounded like someone was abusing its war drums. I’m not going to kill you over a kiss.”

“You’re one to talk!” Only noticing the secondary heartbeat he could hear drumming on his chest.

They both jumped when the passenger seat door opened. Reverie plopped down on her seat, stopping short when she saw the two of them practically on each other.

“Are you two…fighting?” Reverie narrowed her eyes on them.

Lance’s hand is still entangled in Éclair’s hair and her fist on his chest. It was easy to misunderstand the situation considering Eclair's passion of breaking bones.

~~

The drive started smoothly with Arthur on the wheel until they arrive on a long bridge when he swerved violently at the right with a car honking way past them.

“What the f**k, Art?” Lance snarled when he caught the sleeping Eclair from being thrown into his direction. His hand clamped on her left shoulder tightly as she flail in surprise.

It was rare for Arthur to make a blunder in driving. The guy drives way too carefully.

"What happened?" Eclair slurred, not bothering to move in her place.

“Sorry!” Arthur shouted amidst another car honking past them.

“What is wrong with them?” Reverie shouted, hands covering her ears and eyes peering over her seat. As another car join in the honking.

Lance and Éclair take a look behind them, catching a sight of a ten wheeler honking its way down on the bridge. Closing on an SUV.

The hand on her shoulder transferred on her waist, pulling her hard and flushed on his body. Fear sizing up his whole body. A squeak left Eclair's lips as Lance's arm encircled her waist like a steel trap.

“Step on the gas, Art!” Lance shouted, his heart beating fast on her back. “Something’s wrong with that trailer! Rev, is your seatbelt on? Put it on!” he follow up noticing the red head scrambling in her seat.

“Okay. Okay.” Arthur breathed out, stepping on the gas as he was ordered to.

"Lance, this is a bit..." Eclair said, squirming in his lap. Unbelievable, this is not the time for this.

His arm turned rigid around her waist as his head dropped on her shoulders.

"Eclair, stop that." She abruptly stopped, sensing the warning in his voice.

"Sorry, if you could just..."

"OH MY GOD!" Reverie screamed when a crash sounded behind them.

A sense of foreboding crushing all over the weird butterflies in his stomach.

Lance had manage to caught sight of the SUV getting fling on the other side of the lane. The ten wheeler now honking long and hard at them, he can see its driver panicking on the wheel.

“Oh s**t! Oh s**t!” Arthur chanted, making his whole body curl in pure horror of what was about to come. There are other cars in front of them too. Speeding up can prove to be dangerous but staying slow means death.

“Into the gutter, Art!” Éclair shouted when the blaring got louder as the ten wheeler come up on their left. Hoping they’ll be able to dodge the zigzagging behemoth of a vehicle.

Arthur dutifully swerved her car on the right, into the gutter but there was a thump like something bumping behind them.

Lance's arm covered her head in that instant and curled his body around her small one. Pure terror enveloping his whole body.

And suddenly they were in the air. Screaming bloody murder. A crash, the hood hitting hard the cemented barrier of the bridge. It shook them violently inside the car, choking their scream and showering them with glass and paper bags.

Tears, blood and snot mixing in the air. A pain no like other blossoming on his back.

The sweet and fruity scent that enveloped Eclair's body had turned into oily, greasy and flammable scent of gas.

Oh god.

And there was water. A heavy weight pressing on him, squeezing out the very air inside him A violent tug that felt like tearing his whole body apart.

And then no more.