AFTER KNOWING EACH OTHER FOR THEIR WHOLE LIVES, THE IDEA OF BEING NERVOUS AROUND EACH OTHER WAS A CONCEPT ZARINA AND T'CHALLA COULD NOT GRASP. While their transition into their teenage years had brought to light revelations that neither acted upon but were well aware of, it was because of their lack of action that they were able to tamp down what would have typically become avoidance and tension, allowing them to keep their relationship in tact and as it always was, even with outside factors.

Yet there the two were, two bundles of nerves, all jittery and jumpy, excitable yet frightened in such a way that made little sense for the two to feel about the other, hearts pounding and stomachs churning in anticipation, avoiding each other like the rabbit avoids the snake.

"Why do you worry about what you wear, be practical, where are you going?" Okoye asked, rolling her eyes as she lounged on Zarina's comfortable bed, watching her fuss over her clothes.

"Not everyone can be as beautiful as you Okoye," Zarina sighed, pulling out one of the dresses T'Challa had gotten her for her birthday.

Okoye tutted, shaking her head. "You cannot compare beauty, Zarina." She smirked then, adding airily, "Although, I have been blessed with an ethereal glow..."

Zarina scoffed and threw one of her dresses at her, Okoye laughing teasingly as she shook it out, admiring it, repeating her initial question, "Where are you going?"

"He won't tell me," Zarina sighed, turning around to look at her, "He said it's a special place he hadn't shown anyone. His own place. Do you know what he's talking about?"

Okoye shook her head, solemn. "I protect the prince, but we don't always have to be around. If anything, you should know. You always know."

Zarina chewed on her lip as she went back to her clothes, thinking. When she was younger, that statement would be undoubtedly true. When she and T'Challa were younger, they were all the other had, T'Challa too sheltered to be ready to meet the people he would soon fight beside and rule, and Zarina taught by her father, choosing to be with T'Challa. But as time went on, the two branched out, finding new people. T'Challa knew all those that Zarina knew, but it wasn't the same on his side. T'Challa knew many Zarina didn't know, might never know. She didn't care if he knew other people, but the idea of them being inseparable was becoming less and less true.

There was very little even keeping them together at this point. Habit, mostly. Neither could be sure of the others' feelings, so that factor was never in question to begin with.

"Zarina," Okoye said carefully, craning her neck to try and see her friend from where her back was turned, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, glancing over her shoulder to give her a reassuring smile, though she could see from Okoye's expression that it didn't quite hit the mark. She sighed and turned back to her closet, shrugging.

Finally, Okoye spoke, "I understand being nervous, Zarina. But you act like things changing is a bad thing."

"It's not," she said, whirling around, "Change is good, change is-is important, it's not that I'm afraid of changing, I'm just—" she paused, only for a moment, "What happens when he realizes he doesn't need me anymore?"

Okoye barely reacted, replying as simple and rational as she had been trained; so much like Zarina's mother.

"Why do you think he would to begin with?"

º º º

"My prince?"

T'Challa stepped out to find Okoye cautiously stepping into his room, looking around with mild interest, coming to stand at attention, her eyes trailing towards the cats that stepped towards her, a kitten at their feet.

"Okoye," he greeted, and she relaxed somewhat, tilting her head at him, "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It is my duty," she replied, then, "And I have a feeling you're about as helpless as Zarina at the moment."

T'Challa perked up at the mention of the other girl, but caught himself, clearing his throat as he nodded, saying that he was glad she was a part of the Dora Milaje, as she, like all the other women, gave him hope and stability for when he would one day rule, as his own father feels.

"Is there a reason why you called me?" Okoye asked, rolling her eyes at T'Challa's broken attempts to seem like a prince in front of a friend.

The young prince sighed and fell back onto his bed, sprawled out, a few of the cats immediately jumping up to sit on him, licking his hands. "I need your help. Zarina told you about our evening tonight?"

"As much as she could, you told her next to nothing," she said, moving to sit next to him, "Women do not like being left in the dark, T'Challa, we have a right to know things."

"Of course, this is not because she is a woman, it is because it is a surprise," T'Challa explained, waving his hand lightly, "I don't even know if she will like it."

Okoye smirked, rolling her eyes just outside of his vision. "I don't think that will be a problem."

T'Challa simply sighed, rolling off his bed, rising to his feet. "We are going into the jungle, but I don't want her to think I don't care, so I'm caught in what I should wear."

Okoye rolled her eyes and walked towards his closet, pushing him aside. Without looking, she grabbed the nearest set of clothes and handed them to him, walking back to his bed without a second glance.

"This actually works," the young prince said tentatively, almost a question if not for his fear of Okoye's response.

"Is that all you called me for?" she asked, and he shook his head, moving to sit next to her, wringing his hands.

"Can you tell me if she will like this?" he asked, and Okoye paused for a moment.

She had always known T'Challa to be much softer than the average prince, than the average king. From birth, she knew that a king was meant to hold himself tall and be firm in his decisions. But T'Challa, he was always so cautious, so much happier when he was out of the diplomatic affairs, even from afar she could tell, and from what she had heard from Zarina, her speculations were almost confirmed.

She liked this. A prince willing to ask for help. That would mean a king who was willing to think.

"I will help in whatever way I can."

º º º

"My brother is an idiot, but I'm sure this won't be terrible," Shuri said, leading Zarina to where she had been asked to meet him in front of the palace, Shuri chosen as her escort as she had begged that her father not be anywhere near during the evening.

She could barely muster a small laugh, her stomach tied up in knots, as was her hair. She had decided to wear it out of her face, giving her no way to hide, forcing her to hold herself tall despite her feelings.

"Okay, bye," Shuri said quickly, scurrying off before Zarina could call after her.

She turned from where she was watching the girl run off to look in front of her, startling when T'Challa stepped out of the shadows, hands behind his back like always. He never caused her uneasiness when he did that, never felt like he was hiding; he always seemed to be thinking, always regal, even when he was still so young.

She paused, unsure of whether to approach, and he gave her a puzzled look, coming to stand right in front of her, hands snaking around her waist, still giving her a confused look as he held her.

"Where are we going?" she found herself asking, hands coming out to play with the collar of his clothes, as if she couldn't help herself.

He glanced down at her clothes for a moment, nodding to himself. "There is a place I have never showed you."

Stepping away, he slipped her hand into his own, leading her away, and she fell into step easily, realizing that wherever they were headed could only be reached by foot; that, or he wanted them to walk.

They walked in an easy silence, T'Challa switching from holding her hand to having an arm around her waist, and Zarina took either easily, holding his arm as he held her hand or wrapping her own arm around him in turn. She didn't question why, T'Challa was always rather touchy, though in this instance, it made her heart skip more than usual; but considering their history, it might have meant nothing.

T'Challa, on the other hand, couldn't stop berating himself. Over the years it had becoming quickly apparent to him that, when around Zarina, he couldn't stop himself from moving. Never once did he freeze when he saw her, when he felt anything around her. His brain would simply shut down and he would act, only realizing and dealing with the consequences afterwards. Around Zarina, there was only ever action.

"Where are we going?" she repeated, looking around at the vast jungle, nearing the edge of the Wakanda's borders, on the opposite side of where the Border Tribe resided.

"You will see," he said, calm as ever, and she sighed, shaking her head but continuing to follow him.

She caught sight of a basket in his other hand, glancing between him and in with surprise; she hadn't noticed it at all. He simply winked and continued to trek through the dense jungle, and she began to wonder if it was safe for them to be out at this time, as she had never stepped foot here before.

"It will be fine," he assured her, as if reading her mind, and she didn't reply, simply continuing to walk.

As they seemed to near the place, she couldn't help but ask, "Why did you invite me out here?"

He stiffened at that, and she felt her heart skip, fearing that she had upset him; that was the last thing she wanted, especially on this night. But he relaxed after a moment, just barely, turning away from her as he replied.

"I've been meaning to show you for some time," he mumbled, and before she could ask, he pushed away some leaves, showing her a cliff's edge.

She paused for a moment, just staring at it. When she finally found her voice, she breathed, "You're going to kill me."

T'Challa choked out a laugh, so caught off guard he had to turn her to make sure she had been the one who spoke, laughing and pulling her into a hug, simply resting his forehead onto her shoulder, chuckling softly as she giggled, grabbing his wrists and tugging him towards the natural alcove, looking around.

"There are other edges," he said, pointing to other similar looking alcoves just at the edge of the expansive half-circle cliff, "But this is my favorite one."

Setting down the small basket, he pulled out a small blanket, spreading it out, the two sitting down, T'Challa pulling out the food he had brought, leaning back onto his arms with Zarina sitting on her legs, the two beginning to eat in silence, just staring at the stars and the dark blue of the night.

No words were exchanged at that time, the two unable to conjure anything, happy to just be, but also nervous, confused by their racing hearts, by how strange it was to feel so differently with a person they had known their whole lives.

They barely registered that they finished eating, dropping their waste back into the basket before continuing to just sit, still staring out into the expanse of the sky, Zarina unable to help herself as she let herself get lost in the stars.

Her father used to tell her stories of the stars, stories that he had read, and others he had created. They had found a star all for themselves when she was younger, when she had just lost her mother. He had told her he had never seen it before, and the two decided to name it after her: Asha.

She knew now that it had been a lie, that that star had always been there, but it was nice to dream. It was nice to believe. Even if it was a lie.

"Zarina," T'Challa whispered, his voice blanketed by the silence rather than breaking it. She glanced towards him, seeing his outstretched arm. "Come here."

It wasn't a command; nothing with T'Challa ever was. It was an invitation, laced with a question, always room for denial, always understanding of dismissal rather than acceptance. Never a command, despite being a prince.

She moved towards him, settling next to him, resting on the arm pressed against the blanket, his other arm coming to wrap around her waist as he settled down onto the blanket in full, the two staring up at the stars, Zarina with a hand splayed across the side of his neck, her thumb rubbing gently across his cheek.

"I've always liked this place," he said, his voice right by her ear, a mere whisper in the silence, "I always felt the most myself."

"Oh," she whispered, settling in closer, "Then why would you bring me here? If this is all for you?"

He smiled, turning so his lips grazed the top of her head, whispering softly, "Because this place makes me happy. It holds a special place in my heart, as it keeps me here. Because I feel safe. Because this place has been with me for so long, I couldn't bear the thought of being without it."

There was a breath, a moment of pure silence, the two blanketed in the darkness of the night.

"Just as you do."

Zarina sighed, reaching out and tilting her head up, finding T'Challa in the darkness and catching his lips in her own, her hand still stroking his cheek as she pushed herself up closer to him, his arm holding her closer, as if to keep her there, yet so willing to let go if she wished.

When they finally pulled away, she hid her face in the crook of his neck, holding him close, shaking her head as she squeezed her eyes shut, T'Challa rubbing soothing circles into her back as he intertwined their legs like they always did, pressing kisses to the top of her head, letting her breathe.

"You're trembling," he whispered softly, and she laughed, unsure if it was a sob, fisting her hand into the front of his clothes.

"I'm sorry?" he tried, starting to pull away, but she shook her head, grabbing onto him, shaking her head furiously, whispering nonsense to herself as she clung onto him. He laughed, holding her close. "Okay."

Zarina's heart had slowed, and she couldn't think. All her life, she was filled with an endless stream of thoughts, but now she was empty. Nothing but a feeling so full she could barely understand it, barely feel it at all, her body floating on air, yet grounded all at once. Maybe she would think again, think back to this and truly ponder, but all she could do at the moment was breathe.

Finally, after some time, she whispered. "Again?"

T'Challa moved without thinking, capturing her lips in a heated kiss, unable to help himself; he could never think when she was around. He pulled her into his lap easily, sitting up, wrapping his arms around her again, the two laughing for a moment, happy to simply sit and be, Zarina cradling his head in her hands, T'Challa often pulling away to press kisses to her neck, nuzzling against it, ignoring her jibes of, "cat," silencing her with more kisses.

W'Kabi and Okoye peered out from where they had been sent to make sure the prince arrived safely, armed with binoculars, twin smirks adorning their otherwise neutral expressions, the two sighing and sharing a look.

"It was about time."

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 06.15.18 )

Before anyone tries to come at me with instalove remember that they've known each other their whole lives and have liked each other since they were just barely teenagers, they're 19 now they've liked each other for a good number of years, so you can't say instalove because god damn is this a slow burn, Elewa has lost twenty years of his life because of them.

Okoye, Elewa, and Shuri have a club where they roll their eyes and scoff and sigh at their favorite people. Also, Zarina has a special place: IN T'CHALLA'S HEART.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!