Perhaps, as this epitome of beauty slowly progresses,
he will land on his back to the ground,
Sinking with a warm fuzz that surrounds him,
fuel that crawls throughout his thoughts, imaginations,
emotions - To the point where he cannot help himself but to think of her.

And he will be shocked as if a car were
To crash into him while he put down his guard.

And someday she'd fall into that same cushion,
Perhaps she will envy his smile,
Laughter, soft spots - that were once hardened.  

His armor dropped, laid down as well as his sword.
She thinks to herself:
Is he aware that any small attack could be the cause that he die?

Despite all of this,
she is a warrior of her own mind,
Emotions - scaring off anything that threatens the one thing she believes to have:
Her dignity,
her heart;
She has her guard held heavy enough to detect any virus coming by.
She's her own immunity.
Yet,
She knows deep within her,
It would be the best love they both would
Have ever experienced.

To the point where the world could stop,
And the enemy succeed in beheading the king,
With no king,
They'd be content,
They'd have everything under both their feet,
As they sit on the throne.

Perhaps,
The castle walls would be the best guard they have achieved.