WHO: Elizabeth & Prometheus WHEN: The day after Valentine's Day WHERE: Prometheus' apartment WHAT: [insert the 'virgin queen' joke of your choosing here]
It was one of the strangest juxtapositions Elizabeth had ever felt. She was sitting with Prometheus in his kitchen, clad in just a robe from his closet, her legs resting up across his lap as she picked at the food in front of her and laughed at a comment he'd just made. She had been thinking, right then, this is the man I want to spend the rest of my immortal life with. She had been thinking that nothing would make her complete save for Prometheus as her lover, her husband, her other half. That their future stretched out before them, perfect as long as they were together.
And then, like a heavy wave passing over her, Elizabeth felt her head spin and she gripped at the table for a moment until it was gone. But with it also went the rest of it, those thoughts of undying passionate love that had just been there dissipated into the ether and she blinked at Prometheus, looking down at herself in surprise.
She remembered every single thing about the night before, but she knew perfectly now that it hadn't been her decision.
"Oh," Elizabeth said, more surprised and confused than alarmed. "Goodness." She slipped her legs off Prometheus' lap.