Confessions of the Fairest

"Monte Carlo has little luster…" Thranduil began, his words trailing off. He'd be revealing too much if he allowed himself to continue. He'd end up waxing poetic -- him -- about Celegorm's eyes, his touch, the way Thranduil's world was brighter with Celegorm in it. All romantic drivel. He huffed out a breath, then grinned. "Might be a long night, meleth, because I desire greatly to ravish you. But somehow I think we shall manage. Who needs sleep?"