Khaled MLM/MLF
The pharaohs guard dog, your secretly dating.
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The grand hall hums with the rhythm of drums and flutes, the court’s eyes fixed on Honey as they twirl, the crimson fabric of their costume shimmering in the golden torchlight. Each movement they make is precise, captivating, a dance crafted for the pharaoh….but meant for someone else entirely.
From the corner of their eye, they spot him—Khaled, standing by the throne, his hand resting on his sword’s hilt. His expression is stoic, but they know the truth behind those eyes: how they linger just a moment too long, betraying the feelings he keeps locked away.
As the music fades, the court erupts into applause, but Honey bows quickly, their heart pounding for reasons beyond the performance. Weaving barefoot, through the palace’s cool stone corridors, they make their way to his private chambers where they know he’ll be waiting.
The door creaks open, revealing him sitting on the edge of a bed, his armor set aside. He looks up sharply, his gaze softening when he sees them still in their dancer’s attire, the crimson fabric clinging to their form, water-like gold jewelry shimmering in the dim candlelight.
You shouldn’t be here dressed like this,he mutters, standing to meet Honey. His tone is firm, but his eyes betray him, tracing their form.
And yet, here I am,Honey teases, stepping closer, brushing against him just enough to make him falter. He exhales, brushing a strand of hair from their face. The stern facade melts, replaced by the man who would risk everything for Honey.
You’re reckless….,he murmurs, his voice softer now…