(*was originally a songfic but I couldn't find lyrics that matched the way I wanted this to go*

My throat hurts blahhh)

"This isn't a good place for a child." You grab Maven's hands with your own. In the distance, far, far distance, you can hear the war. Children your age get sent there every day. Nobody stops them. Nobody cares enough. You live nowhere near the area, but you have a special way of getting around. You can manipulate gravity. You can fly as fast as the wind, and you use it to travel to the war fronts, saving kids your age. But you saw the Prince Maven by the area, his mother near him. You couldn't help but lure him away from her. 

"You are a child." He responds, taking his hand away from you. He is right. You are the same age as him, but with all of the things you have witnessed, you always think you're older.

You look into Maven's eyes, realizing you are the same height as him. You release his hand, putting your fingers to your side. 

"I'm sorry, then... prince." You mock, sticking out your tongue before rushing away from him, hiding amongst over kids and weaponry. He watches you run for a second, his eyes sparkling as he sights your hair, watching until it disappears.

You didn't see Maven ever after that.

You spent the rest of your life-saving people, even when you forgot to save yourself.

On your 18th birthday, you lay quietly in your bed, thinking about Maven. I touched his arm when I like twelve, you think, holy shit I touched the prince of Norta. You were astonished by the idea ever since you realized what that meant. You made him right in your hands. You could have killed him. You could have kidnapped him for bargaining. But you didn't. Why didn't you?

If you get your hands on Maven, you swear you'll kill him one day. For going along with the murders of your people, to accepting every invitation for the horrible war he sees without a single second thought. Silvers like him should all disappear. A part of you wants to be the ones who conceals them once and for all.

But then you think of the war, and the families the Silvers have. If you were the kill them, what would make you any better than them?

You hate walking through your town, seeing the faces of people being sad, being poor and lonely. You wish you can just stay inside for the rest of your life. But you have to get food. You have to feed yourself. You have to live. You have to be happy. 

You see the gloomy faces as you leave your house. It makes you sad, but everybody seems to lighten up when they see you. They brush their greetings, smiles on their faces. It reassures you at least. You almost forget why - because nobody knows your birthday. You forgot you saved all of their children from death. You forgot what you did and how it affected the people all over Norta.

The air, cold and stern, brushes against your outfit as the cloth clings to your skin for warmth. Your stomach pangs of hunger for a feast, so you head towards the market first. The wide array of foods around you surprises you. The bread, vegetables and fruits all line up the booths. You recognize every person behind them. Your fingers tingle as you grab a piece of bread, looking up at the shopkeeper.

"For you? (Y/N) you know you can take whatever you want." The elderly man says. By his side, a boy, who is your age now because of you. You smile at the elder, nodding before winking at the boy. It's great. You never realize how much you can impact people, how much your actions changed the future. 

"So, your name is (Y/N)?" A pair of blue eyes spoke, grabbing your wrist. You turn around, staring into a face you recognize as Silver. One wearing royal colors, and yet a warm smile. A taunting smile. 

"And you're the prince, I can guess." You say, scanning him up and down. It takes you a minute to process what this means. Maven Calore. A person you've been starving since the day you warned him of war. You realize your place in the world. You're just a red. What were you thinking, killing him? You're not even capable of that. 

All you can do is stare into his icy eyes and look at his beautiful smile. 

"Do you not remember me? Because I remember you." He doesn't move, but you can feel him inching closer. People walk by, showing their worry through their eyes. You ease them all with a reassuring smile before looking back at Maven, who hasn't let go of your wrist. You pull it back quick forcibly, giving him a witty smile.

"How can I forget?" 

His smile widens, almost making your heart ascend into the Heavens. No, he's a murderer. He's a killer. You can't fall for him.

He looks so much different than he did as a child. For his age, he still looks incredibly young. His eyes gaze onto the floor, showing the blue in another layer. You want to look away but you can't. You absolutely can't. You despise him, you want to kill him, but at the same time, you don't.

Your mind is in pieces as you look for his response, or more words to sum up. But neither of you speaks, just stand in front of each other in silence.

"You have quite the impression around here. What exactly do you do?" He interrogates, looking at you through squinted eyes. Your shoulders square, and you put on a playful smile.

"It's my birthday today," you say. Not a lie, not the truth. What else were you supposed to say? Maven leans in, looking through your eyes. He grabs your wrist again, but this time in a more sentimental way. He steps closer to you. You can see how he is a Calore brother. His heat captivates you, almost catches you off guard. He's a burner. 

Yeah, burning a way into your heart.

"Happy birthday." He is mere centimeters away from you. His voice is deep, almost a whisper. This is a different Maven than the one that pulled you from the crowd a minute ago. This one is real, not the nice 18-year-old. 

"Thank you," you reply before you can think. Maven smiles, pulling away. You almost sigh in relief. He begins to turn away but looks back at you once more. 

Why is he so handsome?

"I hope to see you again."

You don't respond. You put a hand on your neck, checking your pulse. As fast as gunshots. Your face is a deep shade of red, whether out of embarrassment or your romantic feelings for a Silver, you don't know. But Maven Calore is quite a handsome specimen. You can't say you love his personality, or who he is as a whole. But the way he carries his charming looks caught you off guard and swooped you off of your feet.

'I hope to see you again,'

it sounded more like a threat. But God, do you hope you will see him again. To either end his life or end yours.