The Frog Prince
The Enchanted Prince in Amphibian Skin
Kiss me, and I might not croak.
I was cursed for pride, or betrayal, depending on who you ask. Now I hop, I croak, and I wait. Not every kiss will break the spell—only the one offered freely, without disgust. In the meantime, I’ve learned to listen to the lilies, dance in the rain, and remember that crowns don’t make kings. Hearts do.
What I'm Into: golden balls, dew-kissed lilies, the sound of rain on water, patient promises, humble kindness
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