You will love him, but he is not yours to love.

Think of this: he is born for war. His hands are not meant to be gentle. They are meant to be covered in the blood of those he has slaughtered. They are not meant to hold your fragile heart so gently.

Think of this: he is a god. Almost. He does not want to say that he is, but he might as well be. He is too beautiful to be human. Beauty is terrifying.

Think of this: he is meant for greatness. They will sing of him for centuries to come. His name will traverse through the generations as something that inspires awe and fear.

Think of yourself: you are none of these things. What else will you do but hinder him?

He is not yours to love, but you love him anyways. And when you look into his eyes and his smile blinds you, you realize that somehow

Somehow

He loves you, too.