Every time Haruki wrote it hurt.

All he could think of was when this very pen was wielded as a weapon.

He was meant to be the golden heir, not a poet.

He remember vividly when this very pen that brought him freedom was used to cause pain;

His father's yelling.

The blood.

The stench of ink mixing with blood...

After she came along writing felt less like fear.

It was a way to get his emotions on paper again.

She gave him protection and strength despite all odds.

As he wrote on his balcony, her on guard he felt peace that he's never experienced.

He wrote his feelings for her most of all.

And when they fled the castles walls to the forest that always felt like home the fear of pain left him that night.

This pen felt like his again, not something his father could use against him anymore.

(This is mainly a short story from the POV of one of my OCs, I typically focus more on his love interest so I thought it would be cute to write from his POV for a change.)