into a cold look and point to the door."You can leave."
She turns around and slowly walks away from me, widening the gap between her and me by the breadth of the ocean with every step and tearing pieces of my heart with her without noticing it.
"I had to do it, you know," she finally says when she has reached the door and is already holding the handle in her hand, "I had to know whether this is something special between us - or whether it can happen to anyone." She lifts her head briefly and gives me one last shy look. "It doesn't," she then whispers, "it's something special. But I'm not like you who can recognize something like that right away."
With these words she scurries out of the room and leaves me behind, probably not even aware that she has just made my life a lot more difficult.

I lower my eyelids, suppress the memory and deal again with what lies in front of me.
Titian.
It's like seeing a ghost - and strictly speaking, it's nothing else to me.A ghost, a passing memory of days long past - and repressed - days. He looks at me blankly, his green eyes fixed on the floor in front of him as if he would prefer it to my face.
I clear my throat and look at him waiting. "Do you remember me?"
The slightest smile shows in the corners of his mouth, but immediately disappears, giving way to a kind of bitterness that confuses me. "How could I not."
I blink a few times at this cryptic answer and throw a questioning look at Dismas, who has brought in the red-haired Rosar for reasons I don't understand. He raises his hands defensively and looks at me with a "don't-ask-me-what-this-stinking-pink-mean" expression on his face that somehow makes me laugh. The past few hours have often led me to hysterical nervous breakdowns, but I've never been as close to this as I am now, and I have to use force to suppress the giggling inside me."You were the only pink that the messengers can find," I say instead and am a little relieved that my voice doesn't show any of my fragile nerves, "how come?"
He gives me a slightly annoyed look that I find extremely inappropriate. Scared - yes, disturbed - yes, even kind of pleased because of me, after all, I'm his prince, even if I really don't particularly like being - but annoyed? Really, annoyed is just inappropriate.
"I'm the only one who was sent to earth today," he replies as if that should have been clear to me long ago.
"And why?" I ask because the connections are not as clear to me as they are obviously for him.
He curls his lips. "Because I should talk to you," he replies, "because that's what I was chosen for."
My gaze turns once more to Dismas for help, but he apparently has just as big problems understanding as I do.He frowns and takes a step closer to Titian, well aware of how intimidating his massive figure must appear on the thin rose, and drills his golden yellow gaze into the other's. "You should talk to Orion? Why suddenly? It's not necessarily that you've had a particularly friendly relationship with him over the last few years."
Tizian returned the threatening look of the other defiantly and with a subliminal challenge that made a cold shiver run down my spine. A dangerous mix, this pink and the werewolf. "There has been a shift in power," the redhead finally remarks calmly, "the royal family has noticed. I am the ambassador."
The royal family.
Well, if that's not even a statement.
For five full seconds I just stare at him like an idiot.
Only then will there be some movement in my limbs. "Who exactly?" I ask in a slightly trembling voice, while my knees feel as soft as jelly and I fight with all my might not to faint because of this information, as it would be so tempting."The king, of course," he replies lightly, and after a short pause, his eyes flashing with anger, hangs on, "... and his son."
"Narcissus?" I gasp and choke and get two looks of the purest suspicion in response.
"Who else", Tizian replies pointedly, "no one else has made claims to the throne, or am I mistaken?"