I don’t let him carry me.
The days of him walking with me in his arms are over. He was not a mount, and I was no damsel in distress. I am a f u c k i n g Princess and I can walk on my own two feet even if it’s barefoot and the ground is cutting into my skin with every step I take.
We don’t stop walking. The rain pours on through the day until it is night, we shiver, our stomachs rumble and the chains clang between us, but we do not stop for anything. Sometime the next day, the rain finally stops, and the bright sun finally warms us enough to stop shaking. For almost two full days, we do not stop to eat or drink. We only walked and walked and walked.
He might not be carrying me, but we were still chained together, making us walk side by side and rub against each other every now and the
