I fear that you won’t be loved. That you won’t get the treatment you deserve. I fear that when you cry there won’t be a shoulder with your name on it and a voice telling you it will all be ok. Can you blame me for caring? Yes you can but it doesn’t mean I will accept the guilt. You were born to be someone’s prince; who’s I’m unsure of. But until that day comes I want to wear your crown without the tears and know that I’ll always be behind the thrown waiting for that assassin. I’m waiting to defend you at the drop of pin. Love just works that way sometimes.