#there is plenty of room for further shenanigans in the future of this au or back in the past
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I need a full fucking post about the children to sparklings au, I need tears of the families reunion. And that includes bee and smokescreen fucking booking it to that location. I need Optimus being a proud dad about Jack becoming a doctor. I need him intimidating Miko's partner. And I need him being silently ecstatic about one of his kids FINALLY BECOMING AN ARCHIVST
ASK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE!!! I giveth YET ANOTHER addition to this AU at your behest. Enjoy :)
Previous part here.
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When Optimus gave himself to the Well, he knew what he was doing was going to hurt his sparklings. There had been no other option, but once he rejoined the Allspark and integrated with it enough to have a voice, he made his opinions as clear as day. He was forced into a dormant state off and on, as was customary for those who returned to their maker. However, whenever he was roused from his rest, he was highly vocal about his desire to return to the living realm so that he might be with those he left behind. He spent vorns upon vorns bitterly attempting to speak to his fellow Primes to convince them to give him new life. Thankfully, as soon as the threat of the Fallen came into play, they were willing to let him return to life at the cost of him doing their bidding whenever they required it.
To Optimus it felt like an absolute scam, but who was he to reject? Primus would only let him live again if he agreed to give up his memory. His fellows were the only ones who could pull strings to let him return largely unscathed. So if he had to be their lapdog in exchange for the right to life, then he would do what he had to. Besides, in the worst case, he was not against throwing himself back into the Well to avoid being turned into a tool to be used. As such, Optimus's spark was taken from the Well along with the Matrix of leadership and he was given a new frame to inhabit before promptly being thrown to Earth to fight for his life.
Cybertronians and humans present at the battle site took countless videos and pictures as Optimus and the Fallen fought one another with vicious brutality. Even as the battle raged, recordings were being uploaded to Cybertron and consequently the datanet at rapid fire speed. So when Optimus finally hauled himself out of the crater formed from his battle with the Fallen, word was already spreading. The team were on Cybertron reminiscing, but those who were once bound to Optimus sensed that connection stirring. They largely shrugged it off a mere oddity, but the closer Optimus came to arriving on Cybertron, the stronger that pull became. Out of all the sparklings, it was Jack, or rather Sirius who seemed to understand what was happening first.
The eldest of the former humans broke into a mad sprint and fell on his face in his hurry to get to where his spark felt compelled to see to. Bumblebee and Smokescreen were next to pick up the flare from Optimus's end of the bond and promptly began booking it toward where they felt the call was coming from. Rafael, or rather Alnair was similarly quick to get moving and attached himself to his sister as she hurried to take to the skies. Miko, or Tari flew through the skies faster than she ever had before, quickly surpassing her ground bound brethren in her haste. Alnair, from within her cockpit, hurriedly ran scans, desperately reciprocating love and affection and trying to work through tears. None of the sparklings could believe it, not after so long. But they could not deny it, there was no denying the adoration and love that sung in their sparks.
Optimus hardly had a chance to land on the ground before Tari transformed, flinging her brother off in her haste to get to her Sire. She promptly threw herself into Optimus's arms, not doubting for even a moment that it was him. Optimus merely dropped to a knee so that she could reach him better, and he cupped her face, running his digits along her cheeks as he sang softly. Tari wept but leaned into the touch that had long become but a memory. Optimus was back, her Sire was there, touching her face and looking at her with all the love and care in the world. All of her sparkling vorns were spent lost, without guidance. There was always something missing in her life, and she filled that void with aggression and then the family she found with the Wreckers. Now though? She could feel everything coming back together, as if a piece of her spark was being put into its proper place. She clung to Optimus's plating as Alnair stepped forward hesitantly.
The minicon was no fool. He knew that the mech before him was his Sire. But he had been so young when Optimus died. He hardly remembered his Sire even though his spark pulsed in recognition. To him, seeing Optimus was almost like meeting a long dead historical figure. He knew the stories, he knew Optimus's reasoning and choices. Alnair worked in the archives after all. And yet here he was, standing and venting as if he hadn't been dead for vorns. Optimus extending a servo toward him was all that it took to break Alnair from his desperate logical reasoning. He stepped forward slowly, but as soon as he neared the Prime, Optimus drew him in for a hug alongside his sister. He could not stop himself from shedding a few silent tears as his spark cried out, old scars aching now that what was thought lost was returned to him.
Sirius arrived third and skidded to a stop wheezing from exertion. He did not cry, he did not wail. No, he watched Optimus hold his siblings close, and only once Optimus smiled down at him did Sirius step forward and join the hug wordlessly. There was no need for communication between them at the moment. Sirius knew his Sire and had enough of his memories from his youth to feel relief over confliction. Optimus's passing damaged him deeply, but he was old enough to move on and know what his Sire did was worth it. He was willing and able to fill the void as best as he was able. But now that Optimus was back, sheer relief flooded his processors as at last, he no longer needed to remain the firm foundation for his siblings.
Smokescreen was not nearly as composed as Sirius when he arrived. So much stress and having to practically raise his younger siblings alone had him bawling the moment he crashed into Optimus and fit into the rather snug hug. Bumblebee did not cry, but he did squeeze Optimus tightly when he squeezed his way into the hug circle. Optimus for his part sang lovingly for what could have been nanokliks or up to a groon. However when at last all of his sparklings released him, he remained on his knees so that they could refamiliarize themselves with him. In any other situation it would be seen as uncalled for or even intrusive. But as Sirius touched Optimus's servos and mapped them with his digits, not a spark spoke a word. Tari examined Optimus's jetpack, lifting the wings and doing her best to be gentle as memories of flying with her Sire returned to her. Alnair focused on Optimus's windshield, touching the glass and leaning against the Prime to feel his spark. Smokescreen and Bumblebee merely touched Optimus's shoulders, neither needing much more to reaffirm the most basic part of their bond to him.
It was such a small thing, but Optimus did not stop his song as the rest of the team arrived and watched in total shock and awe as the Prime's sparklings acted on instinct to inspect and confirm that he was who their sparks proclaimed him to be. Only once they all settled did he speak.
"You have all grown so much during my absence. I lament that I could not be here to watch you develop, but if you would allow me, I would like to be part of your lives once more."
There was not any hesitation in the sparklings' answers. The team were shaken by their Prime's sudden return and Cybertron was thrown into absolute uproar as Optimus Prime quickly made himself known. Not a single mech on Cybertron was able to do a thing as Optimus took up a position as Head Archivist in the newly established government and then proceeded to go spend time with his sparklings while blowing all of his starting leave. The planet hardly had time to process that he was in fact alive again before Optimus appeared on national TV praising Sirius for achieving his doctorate in neuroscience, remarking fondly on Tari's perfect combat record, and hailing Alnair for becoming his apprentice.
Behind the scenes Optimus made a deal with all of his sparklings, one where he would spend a stellar cycle with each to begin to make up for lost time. He began with Tari simply because she was the most frantic. All of that time was spent with Tari showing Optimus her life and all her work. She had him watch her training, observe her skills in flight, and read through her records just to see her success amongst the records. Throughout it all Optimus showered her in affection, giving her hugs and singing to her on instinct whenever he was pleased. Tari did not care at all that Optimus was reacting to her actions as if she were still a sparkling. She loved it all and had no qualms against bringing her courting partner to meet her Sire. She was too happy about the situation to know when Optimus took her partner aside, putting a servo on their shoulder and smiling a little too wide to be comfortable.
"Treat her well, or you too may learn of the peace found within the Allspark"
The poor bot was terrified and went to Tari shaking. Tari assumed that it was simple nervousness and laughed it off, but Optimus kept smiling and made a point of showing that Tari was his sparkling whenever he could. He was not upset with her courting partner, but to Optimus, Tari was a tiny sparkling last he checked. Letting her go off to do whatever with a bot he did not know was something he needed time to handle.
Bumblebee and Smokscreen were next on his visit list, and the entirety of their gathering was comprised of the two brothers lamenting raising the trio alone. Optimus listened dutifully, offering hugs, cuddles, field comfort, and whatever else was required. He treated them as if they were young, making them energon and letting them unwind after vorns of stress. It was a month filled with tears on Smokescreen's end and centuries worth of stress finally being released from Bee's shoulders. Whenever Optimus wasn't playing therapist, his eldest sparklings took him everywhere and anywhere, showing him Cybertron and doing their best to make a show of their efforts to ensure his vision became reality. It was humorous to the Prime to watch his two eldest bicker over meaningless things before promptly becoming dead serious over different topics in record time. No matter how old they were, Optimus saw them as the two younglings he took under his care.
Chaotic as they were, they did not argue when Optimus went to Sirius next. Sirius for his part was far less excitable than Tari. All he wanted from Optimus was the chance to talk and catch up. And so that was what they did. A whole stellar cycle went by with Sirius sitting with his Sire, drinking diluted and flavored energon while discussing everything and anything in the local garden. Optimus practically beamed as he listened to all Sirius had to say about his life and the happenings on Cybertron. More than once he reached out to hold his sparkling's servos as Sirius spoke. The Prime did grow momentarily bitter over hearing of Sirius's habit of going to June's grave, but he did not let it show. Sirius was his sparkling, and he showed nothing but joy as the eldest of the former humans showed Optimus all his medical tools with glee, bringing back memories of when Sirius was far younger.
If Optimus quietly pulled some strings to ensure Sirius worked at the clinic closest to the archives, not a spark said a word. Sirius was a doctor and Optimus couldn't have been prouder.
Alnair though... he was a different situation. The youngest of the trio did not know Optimus as his elder siblings did. He was too young when Optimus died to know much. And so his time with Optimus amounted to working together in the Archives. Optimus was once an apprentice to Alpha Trion, and so despite the initial awkwardness, Optimus taught Alnair all he knew. The minicon was dead set on trying to leave as soon as possible and get a new line of work, but as Optimus weaved his tales of pre-war Cybertron and dutifully worked to teach Alnair, the youngest of the former humans warmed up to his Sire quickly. By the end of the stellar cycle, Alnair was just as excitable as Tari and bound himself to Optimus as his assistant minicon. Optimus did not object to having his sparkling with him all the time. How could he when FINALLY one of his line saw fit to appreciate his previous occupation prior to the war.
Optimus may or may not have commissioned a few private archival tools for Alnair, but again, that was something none would confirm. Optimus wanted to pamper his sparklings. Not even the Matrix could stand in his way. He was finally home and the sparklings finally had their Sire back. Cybertron was restored, peace achieved, and the people flourishing. What more could Optimus want?
Well family drama was certainly new, and adapting to a brand new era certainly had its downsides, but it couldn't be that bad, right?
Right?
#transformers#maccadam#transformers prime#optimus prime#team prime#bumblebee#smokescreen#rafael esquivel#jack darby#miko nakadai#tfp kids as sparklings#post war cybertron#sorry this took so long#but here it is!#there is plenty of room for further shenanigans in the future of this au or back in the past
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Ten Favorite Drarry Fic Recs
I’ve reached a bit of a follower milestone, and I thought, why not celebrate? I’m happy! This is an incredible feeling that I honestly can’t fully articulate in writing. Knowing someone enjoyed my work and presence enough that they’d want to be notified if I posted again just makes me squeal and want to hug everyone from joy!! Thank you to anyone who has ever left me kudos, a comment, a tag, a note, an emoji, a tag emoji!! I am endlessly grateful to you all for this support and kindness.
Now, since it’s party time, I’ve compiled a personal list of my ten favorite Drarry fics to share the love. This is by no means a stamp of quality (as there are thousands of brilliant fics out there) and neither is it a guarantee that these are everyone’s cup of tea. But they are certainly my cup of tea— my whole buffet honestly.
I chose fics that made me feel deeply. Fics that made me cry, laugh, throw my phone, squeal and wiggle and dance at the end. These (mostly) weren’t fics which answered deep philosophical questions. They were fics which instead showed me love and adventure, joys and betrayals, misunderstandings and occasionally unbelievable (but appreciated) levels of smut (you know who you are). These are stories I read to be entertained, entranced, delighted, and happy. These are stories that made me feel in love.
In honor of that (and of my Canva addiction) I’ve made little banners for each. I hope they do some justice to these works. I’ve tried to capture the feeling of each fic in just one image. Without further ado, read on to find out exactly what my guilty pleasure (as if Drarry isn’t enough) is:
The Songbirds of Avebury Manor by Tessa Crowley [E, 18k]
Summary: Harry Potter presents as alpha at fifteen, and it is supposed to change his life for the better. Instead, it leads him to a beautiful noble omega he cannot have, a political plot he cannot escape, and a threat on his life.
This story. Oh my stars, this story. What can I even say to properly express how I feel about it? This is the Romeo and Juliet, the Pride and Prejudice, the Hades and Persephone of Drarry. Reading this made me feel like an unwedded Victorian lass waiting for her Prince Charming. It’s a wonderful Historical AU that throws around power dynamics and questions of who is worthy of love, freedom, and respect despite them. This is a brilliant portrait of deep romantic love. Harry’s dedication to Draco is all-encompassing, beautiful, intense, intimate— earth shattering, really. The way they fall in love despite class and situation made me want to cry and write poetry. This is a true fairytale romance.
The Pirate and the Prince by @nerdherderette, maniacani [E, 49k]
Summary: Draco can't believe that fate and circumstance have made him a stowaway on the Master of Death's ship. He doesn't know what's worse: the dread pirate's legendary vendetta against the aristocracy, or the fact that his captor is the most infuriating yet irrefutably fascinating man Draco has ever met.
The moment I started this story I knew it was going to be an instant favorite. It’s swashbuckling, debonair yet disheveled, dangerous, fun, adventurous— everything you could desire from a romance on the high seas! Though they come from very different backgrounds, this Draco and Harry are a power couple to the core. Their romance is once again beautiful, intense, and dedicated, but this time it’s mixed with a healthy dose of self-exploration and mutual acceptance. But apart from romance this fic holds delicious secrecy and identity issues, an astounding knowledge of sailing ships, plenty of piratey shenanigans, some heart-wrenching found family dynamics, a cursing parrot, and a glorious angst with a happy ending finale!
Soup-pocalypse and the Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats [E, 104k]
Summary: Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.
What can I say about Soup-pocalypse? It will lure you in with tales of Veelas and romance, and then it will kidnap you and throw you in cooking class and therapy. You’ll come out wondering what just happened and how two days have passed. There will, of course, be Veelas and romance aplenty, but it will be a caring romance, a familial romance, a supportive and kind and nurturing romance. This story feels like family, good cooking, sunny days, the deep heartbreak of change, and through all of it, the truth of a real and solid partnership. This is the humorous yet angst-ridden tale of two idiots learning to love as adults, and then in turn learning to face the world together.
you’ve got the antidote for me by Kandakickass [M, 20k]
Summary: When Harry Potter unintentionally severs their soulbond before it can fully form, Draco Malfoy resigns himself to a slow death and decides not to burden Harry with a soulmate he's made it very clear he doesn't want.
He's never been selfless before, but for Harry, he can try.
Right then. On to the angstiest story I’ve ever read and truly enjoyed. Not just enjoyed, adored! Worshipped! Come back to time and again whenever I needed a good cry! Here is the beauty of it: this fic is deeply painful and heartbreaking, yet it steers clear of emotions like disgust and discomfort. Never once was it disturbing— only sorrowful, in the purest and most heart-wrenching way. Yet despite the pain strung throughout the majority of it, this fic left me feeling relieved and rejuvenated, the way one feels after crying their heart out over something simple. It’s an emotional release that does not leave you broken.
On the Last Day of Our World by Sansa [E, 84k]
Summary: During a detention, Harry and Draco get locked in a strange room together overnight. When they escape the next morning, they discover they are alone. Love, angst and adventure abound as they struggle to survive in an empty world.
Truly one of my favorite takes on canon divergence. Truly. This is an exploration of isolation and the joys and comforts that come with it. It is the power couple Drarry to rule them all— a Draco and Harry so strongly connected, in love, and attuned to one another that the world could fall at their feet. This story leaves you on the edge of your seat until the very bitter end— one of those where the second things are briefly peaceful the world goes up in a new set of flames. Those of you who daydream about a partnership that needs no others, two souls who are each other’s family, friend, and future, and would gladly abandon everything to spend eternity alone together: this is for you.
The Arc of the Pendulum by brummel [E, 30k]
Summary: After his father casts a mysterious curse on Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy is forced to try to make things right.
Yes. YES. YES!!! The Beauty and the Beast take you didn’t know you needed! Still canon-compliant to an extent, this is realistic and raw and incredible. Draco makes the choice to help Harry here, and the vulnerability of their interactions while Harry struggles with the curse is everything you could hope it to be. There’s a distinct fairytale atmosphere in this fic— both of them confined together, finding support and comfort in one another while struggling through the effects of the curse, and falling in love along the way. I could write sonnets about the ending using my tears for ink, but they shan’t be revealed here.
Picking Up Pieces by Tessa Crowley [E, 43k]
Summary of Part One: Fifteen years after the War, Draco is a social recluse and award winning author. Harry is an auror who works too hard, ensuring his old war wounds never heal. They meet at a masque ball, unaware of each other's identities. In another situation, it would have been love at first sight. But for them, it would never be so simple.
Picking Up Pieces deserves no introduction, but if you haven’t read it yet, please find a blanket, and cup of tea, and a quiet place to read, cry, and recover. I sobbed my little heart out through the entire second half— the tears were really never ending. How does it end up on a reclist by a fluff lover like me? The answer is similar to Antidote— though this story broke me apart, it was never twisted nor ugly, never disturbing. It was an incredibly touching tale of redemption, forgiveness, human nature, and recompense. The writing does put you through the emotional wringer, but it leaves you relieved and whole. I would lay down my life for this Draco. He truly needs to be protected and loved at all costs. Even though I’m usually careful when recommending heavy stories, I would encourage everyone to read this— it made me feel new, it made me feel like I’d spent an hour crying in the shower, but most of all, it really did make me happy.
Two Trees by LakeWitch [E, 36k]
Summary (shortened): In his Eighth year at Hogwarts, part of Draco Malfoy's probation is to see a Mind Healer once a week. Another part, unfortunately, is having to take Muggle Studies.
It wouldn't be so bad, really, if it weren't for the mandatory outing—a 'field trip'—booked at a Muggle lakeside retreat for the better part of five days. [...] Draco is determined to get it all over with as painlessly as possible. He'll keep his head down, and stay out of everyone's way. That is, until Pansy tells him—at the very last moment—that she's schemed to have Draco stay in the same room with Potter for the whole trip.
Just the two of them... in one room.
This is the comfort fic of all comfort fics. It feels like camping, like sitting by a lake in the sun, like marshmallows over a fire and sparks against a starry sky, and cool, feather-soft hotel sheets. Draco is dealing with several different anxieties here, but the brilliant setting and easy plot turn them into a cathartic read. This is a fic about young love and the ability to build bonds on trips. It made me remember my first crushes and the feeling of getting breakfast in a hotel lobby. There’s cuddling, there’s love, there’s some highly emo Draco (both warranted and unwarranted), and there’s a truckload of nature. Go read it!
Your Place Or Mine? by @l0vegl0wsinthedark [E, 26k]
Summary: "This person is so much harder to hate. And I’m supposed to hate Malfoy. How the fuck else am I supposed to limit this to just sex?"
At first I was like, “Damn, Harry,” but then I was all, “Damn Harry!” but then I went, “DAMN Harry!” (interspersed with a lot of whistling and cursing). I could have slapped him, and you will want to. This is another Draco that deserves endless love and hot chocolate, with a Harry that deserves a good smack. I think about this fic weekly, and not just because it’s endlessly hot— although it is scorching hot, like how do you even write something that hot type of hot. Draco’s pining and Harry’s stupidity makes for the angstiest yet most satisfying friends-with-benefits-but-really-there’s-more combination, and the climax (pun intended) and resulting spill of emotions is everything anyone could hope for. Ten out of ten.
The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by @cibeewastaken [T, 19k]
Summary (shortened): Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!
So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship...
This thing of beauty is exactly as hilarious as it sounds. However, it is so much more than the endless laughs (although there are many). It is sweet, tender, touching, and filled with glorious pining and misunderstandings. Inside you’ll find extravagant (the word was literally invented for Cibee’s Draco) outfits, confusing customs, a blanket that brought me to tears, one badass house-elf, one very confused beloved, absolutely no fornication (wink), and one hopelessly smitten pureblood. Be warned, this fic is actually three “What the fuck, Draco?”s in a trenchcoat. I read it when I want to laugh, facepalm, and submerge myself in the adorable stupidity that is Draco Malfoy in love. It is well worth your time and is sure to bring a smile to your face.
With this final fic we conclude my list on a happy note! It’s long, it’s tedious, and I had a spanking good time writing it. I hope these bring some joy or happy tears to your day.
Love, Vina
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Title: Crown For Two {3}
Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU
Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, Slow Burn, Tease, PLENTY OF WORDS
Words: 7.2k
Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.
Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”
Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated.
This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.
As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.
Note: All right, all right people, the ride continues. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a reminder, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.
As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.
If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️
***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
***Slightly Interactive***
Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} |
Chapter Three
-Y/N-
When you opened your eyes again, your head felt a lot different. It wasn’t spinning. It didn’t feel congested, heavy, or muddled. You saw everything with clear eyes, alert eyes. Glancing around the room, you took in your surroundings like it was your first time, though you were sure it wasn’t. Closing your eyes, you tried to remember everything that had happened. You remembered walking through the streets, taking pictures, and even watching the locals go about their business. You also remembered going into a bar and drinking that god awful drink.
When you remembered seeing Henry’s face, you couldn’t help but smile. Your conversation played over and over in your head and how easy it was to talk to one another. Even his smile and goofy laugh had you snuggling deeper into the plush bedding. He was definitely attractive. All of a sudden, the accident flashed into mind. You’d been struggling with the wind and the snow and couldn’t see not even two inches in front of you. The pain of being hit was absent. It was like it happened so fast that you were out cold before your pain receptors could adequately translate it.
You bolted up as the words “prince” and “your highness” echoed in your head.
“Shit, he’s a prince.”
You rubbed your forehead, then pinched the bridge of your nose. Of course he is, you thought. Why would you meet some normal person in this clear fairytale country? Leaning against the headboard, you chewed your bottom lip, beginning to wonder about several other things. One of them was your exchange in the bar. He clearly knew who he was. You were not naïve when it came to the attention of men. There was evident flirting going on.
“Was he trying to charm me into being some royal conquest?”
Before you could think on the topic any further, there was a knock at the door. You sat up straighter while trying to figure out the right way to sit. You lied back casually but decided that was too casual. You then straightened your back and took note of how your breasts were accentuated thanks to the proper posture.
“Too much,” you whispered, slouching again.
The knock came again.
“Ma’am?”
Shaking your head, you sighed and said, forget it. You had no idea how to answer, so you said the first thing to come to mind.
“You may enter.” You didn’t know why you decided to add an uppity British accent. Slapping your hand to your head, you shook it, already tired of your own shenanigans.
When you looked, it was the doctor you’d seen the night before.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
You gave him a polite smile as he approached with his black doctor’s bag.
“How are you feeling today. Better, I hope.”
“Much, thank you.”
He nodded, then placed his bag on the bedside table.
“How did you sleep? Any pain?”
“No—well, not severe pain. I’m just mainly sore.”
Dr. Alfonsi. nodded. “You can take aspirin for those aches. They should subside in another few days, as will the bruises.”
You nodded again.
“May I begin my examination?”
Giving him a demure smile as permission, he approached and began doing all the things a doctor would at the beginning of any appointment. He took your blood pressure, checked your reflexes and your temperature. He examined your eyes, listened to your heart, followed along with your pulse and respiration, all the while taking diligent notes on his phone that he held in the breast pocket of his white coat.
Ten or so minutes later, he closed his bag and then brought over one of the chairs in the room. Once he sat, he softly clapped his hands together.
“And that is that. I am pleased your vitals are appearing better and better. Are you feeling the return of your strength?”
“Not really,” you confessed.
“As I explained yesterday, I had concerns from the results of a few blood tests I did. Did you know that you have several vitamin deficiencies?”
Your eyebrows quirked. “Uh—n—no. I didn’t. What do you mean?”
“Well, in an effort to provide a most comprehensive recovery plan for you, as I do with every patient I see in the royal family and elsewhere. I ran a full panel of tests and came back with several alarming finds. You have a deficiency of vitamin B12, Vitamins D, and E, you’re severely low in Iron and Folate. Have you ever been diagnosed with Anemia?”
Your head swarmed with all the words and letters he’d just flung at you.
“Uh—no. I don’t think so.”
“I am diagnosing it now.”
You watched his mouth move as he explained the dangers of the deficiencies and listed the symptoms one would expect, which all coincided with what you’d felt on and off for some time. The explanation seemed to go on and on. With every word Dr. Alfonsi. spoke, your breathing sped more and more. He must have seen the terror on your face because he reached out and took your hand.
“It’s all right, dear. Though it is not as soon as I would have liked, we caught it. we now know that there is a serious problem.”
“I—I didn’t know. I mean, I guess I’ve been busy these last few months and on the go, but—I never--,” you trailed off.
“Calm down. It’s easy to fall behind on our health, but it is important we catch up. In order to do that, you’re going to have to make some changes.”
“What kind of changes?”
“Lifestyle and occupational. You’re going to need to change your diet, incorporate the therapies and medicines I will be prescribing, as well as taking it significantly easier than I suspect you have in the past,” Dr. Alfonsi explained.
“Taking it easy? What exactly does that mean?”
“Well, I mild cases I’ve seen in my years, I’ve recommended a month of strict relaxation along with what I’ve said before. That meant decreased hours at work, perhaps a sabbatical, bed rest until the patient begins to regain strength to prevent chances of falling and bone breakage.”
“Bed rest?”
“Yes, and that’s just for mild cases. Your case, I’m afraid, is a lot more serious. While I recommended it for others, for you, I would have to insist.”
You sat up, giving him a look that said he was crazy.
“I can’t go on bed rest. That’s not just decreased hours; that is complete incapacitation,” you protested.
“I can understand your alarm, but that is how serious your situation is, ma’am.”
“God, please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Xari.”
“Ms. Xari,” he corrected.
Several moments passed in silence. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Yeah, you hadn’t gone to the doctor in almost two years and didn’t take multivitamins and oftentimes forgot to eat, but you worked out, ate your greens—sometimes, and experienced plenty of holistic activities throughout the world. You had no idea you were in this bad shape.
“Do you understand what I am saying, Ms. Xari? If you do not make drastic changes for the foreseeable future, you may not see the blooming of spring flowers.”
Your jaw dropped. He was laying on pretty thick, but it was working. You were alarmed. Sighing, you rubbed your forehead.
“What exactly do you suggest then?”
“What you’re doing now, bed rest. I will communicate with the staff your dietary needs for the coming weeks as well as instructions for your medication--.”
“Wait, hold up. What? You don’t mean for me to stay here, do you?”
Dr. Alfonsi looked at you as if you were missing a few screws.
“Yes.”
You flung your hands out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I can’t stay here.”
“Why not? I am more than sure the prince would allow you to remain here until you are fully recovered, especially seeing it was his highness’ royal car that hit you for us to discover your ailments.”
“No. I can’t stay here. I don’t—I’m a stranger to these people. I am—there’s no way. I can’t ask him or anyone here to wait on me.”
Dr. Alfonsi smiled. “I understand your apprehension, believe me, I do, but it is unnecessary. I have known the prince since he was a child. He is a kind man and would never dare turn someone who is in need and sick away. You will be safe here.”
Hearing how highly he spoke of his prince piqued your curiosity. It could have been one of those things where one’s subjects loved them so dearly they had not one bad word to say about them, or one’s subjects fears them so much that they didn’t dare utter one negative thing about them. You wondered which was the real story. Perhaps a little in the middle, you thought.
Sighing, you leaned your head on the headboard, still adamant you didn’t want to stay here.
“I have a life to get back to. I’ve already been here for two days too long.”
“Two days?”
The question in his voice had your head snapping to him. You cautiously opened your mouth to speak. “Yes,” you squeaked.
“No. I’m afraid it’s been more than two days. It’s been a week since you’ve been here, Ms. Xari.”
Your eyes bugged, and you instantly began searching for your phone.
“What are you looking for?”
“My things. Where are my things? My phone?”
Dr. Alfonsi looked around the room then walked to a large wardrobe before he came back with your purse. You unintentionally snatched it from him, digging through it for the desired object. Once you had it, you discovered it was dead.
“Fuck.”
You began trying to get off the bed, but as soon as you stood, you dropped back to the bed, your legs unable to hold you.
“I would caution against doing too much too soon. I’m impressed you were able to attempt an escape once. I doubt you’d be successful a second time.”
“I need my charger. Where are my things? I’ve been off the grid for a week. I have family, people who will worry. I need—need--.”
Your chest pounded so fast you could barely catch your breath. As you struggled to get a full breath, you began to panic. Dr. Alfonsi was to you on the other side of the bed in seconds, checking your pulse and instructing you to breathe slowly and deeply. You would if you could and wished you could shout that to him. Before you knew it, darkness was all you saw.
~~~~~~~~
When you opened your eyes, you were again tucked in the bed, but you were now hooked up to an IV. You took a deep breath and noted the heaviness that resided in your chest. Groaning, you slowly sat up. Once rested against the headboard, you remembered your mission. Your phone. Kicking off the covers, you used the rolling IV rod as if it were a cane and stood on wobbly legs. After a full minute, you began moving though every step you took felt like you’d fall to the floor.
What should have taken you seconds took minutes. The steps proved to be more challenging to maneuver with the IV stand. You searched the room, but you didn’t see your luggage. That was when you saw your phone plugged into a charger on the nightstand to the left of the bed. You wobbled toward it then quickly unlocked it. Feeling yourself shake even more, you used the wall as your brace as you scrolled through. You saw the bounty of missed calls, unanswered messages, and emails of alarm. As expected, everyone was worried to death about you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
You found your sister’s number and dialed it. It didn’t ring; instead, it went to voicemail. Your frustration was evident as you knocked over the small glass figurine on the bedside table. You ignored the shattered pieces and grabbed the IV pole, ready to walk out of the room in search of your things. Once you opened the door, your jaw dropped, seeing another luxurious room similar to the bedroom but decked in different colors.
You took one then two steps, and your knees gave out. Before you tumbled to the floor, you heard a shriek and your name being shouted; then you were in someone’s arms. You looked up into blue eyes that were framed by long lashes and thick eyebrows.
“Are you all right?”
You snorted. “We have got to stop meeting like this,” you teased with a soft smile. It was a smile Henry returned.
“I cannot make any promises.”
Henry then lifted you into his strong arms and carried you where you’d just come from. As he held you, you couldn’t help but glance over the side of his face that was perfectly in view. If you thought his jaw was chiseled to perfection before, now—you were certain there was not even one flaw about it. When he placed you back in the bed, he hovered over you for a few seconds. They were seconds that felt like minutes, especially with the intensity you saw in his eyes.
“Xari.”
Tearing your eyes from his, you glanced to your left to see Anika, your sister.
“Nika!”
She leaped onto the bed and scurried across to you, then threw her arms around you.
“Oh my god. What’re you doing here!? How’d you get here?”
“I’ve been so worried! I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Relief filled you, and you found yourself relaxing a little more.
“I don’t get it. How are you?”
Anika pulled back with a wide smile on her face. She looked up, bringing your eyes to the man who still stood beside the bed. His arms were crossed across his chest, and a soft smile decorated his lips.
“Him. He’s how I’m here.”
You were still confused, and you knew your expression showed it.
“I couldn’t reach you. I called and called and no answer. A few days ago, I got a call back, and it was the prince,” Anika began giving you a wide-eyed look when she said, “prince.”
“Henry, please, I insist.”
Anika smiled and actually giggled before she continued. “Henry. He explained everything and kept me in the loop with your condition. Because of that damn storm, I couldn’t get here. He ended up sending the royal jet for me once the storm passed enough to bring me here, so you’d have someone with you.”
Wow, you thought, letting all she’d said register. He’d done a lot. You slipped your eyes to him and found them on you.
“He’s been very kind, Ri,” Anika added.
You were speechless. What were you supposed to say? Clearing your throat, you said the first thing you thought of.
“Thank you.”
Henry nodded and held your gaze. “It was done for you alone and with you in mind.”
Well, shit, you thought, unable to take your eyes off of his. After a few moments, you heard Anika clear her throat, and it was Henry who looked away first.
“Right. I was bringing your sister here for you to see. Now that you have her, I will give the staff instructions to see whatever the two of you will need for your stay.”
“Uh—about that. It won’t be necessary,” you piped up.
“Excuse me?”
His intimidating aura increased, making you feel like a disobedient little whose daddy was about to punish her. At that comparison, you had a quick thought about whether or not he was a vanilla prince or one with plenty of shades of grey. Straightening your back, you held your head higher.
“While I appreciate all you’ve done for me thus far, it won’t be necessary for you or your staff to fuss over my sister or me any longer. We’ll be leaving.”
Henry cocked his head to the right, then tightly clenched his jaw.
“Is that right?”
“Why are we leaving?”
Ignoring Anika’s question, you decided not to look away from Henry feeling a challenge in how he looked at you.
“According to Dr. Alfonsi, you’re in no shape to be going anywhere.” He nodded to your IV pole for emphasis.
“I will stay at the inn that is in town or a hotel.”
“Nonsense. It was my fault you were hurt, and my responsibility to rectify the damage and harm I have caused.”
“He’s right, Xari. It’s his fault, and you should let him accrue the expenses,” Anika voiced.
“Nika!”
“What! He’s a prince, Ri. He got it,” she replied a little under her breath but still loud enough for him to hear.
“I must agree with Lady Anika.”
Anika snorted and laughed. “I’m definitely not a lady.”
Henry smirked at her then quickly looked back to you. “I must insist you remain here. At least until Dr. Alfonsi has given you the seal of good health. I am afraid if you were to go anywhere, something would happen to you, and I would not be able to forgive myself.”
You studied him for a few moments, taking in the expression on his face as well as the tight clench of his jaws. Your eyes moved down to his still folded arms and the muscles that bulged because of his stance. He was definitely overwhelming like this, and though you hated to feel like a bother, you suspected that here was the best place for now. Glancing to Anika, she gave you a stern eye that said, “just give in already.”
Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Fine, but only until I’m well enough.”
“If that is your wish, just know you are welcomed here for however long you wish.”
“My goodness, such a gentleman. They sure breed them differently here, huh sis.”
Henry smiled, then glanced at Anika. “Everything is different here in Brexendor.”
“I bet,” Anika finished.
“Since it is settled, I will proceed to advise the staff. Dr. Alfonsi has already given several strict dietary orders as well as health orders. If there is anything you require do not hesitate to speak it. Lady Anika, I have already instructed a bedroom be prepared for you, but I will instruct it be as close to your sister as possible.”
“Thank you.”
He nodded, then looked back at you. “I sincerely hope you feel better soon.”
“Are you leaving?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I am afraid I have quite a lot to do today. By all means, though, feel free to go where you please. My home is yours, ladies.”
With that, he curtly bowed his head then walked toward the door. Before he walked out, he stopped.
“Oh, Xari, try not to escape again. I cannot guarantee I will always be there to catch you.”
You saw the hint of a smile on his lips and instantly knew he was teasing you.
“Somehow, your highness, I suspect you will magically appear at the mere hint of a faint.”
He chuckled to himself then walked out, closing the doors behind him. Once alone, Anika wasted no time.
“Holy fucking shit, he is hot as fuck!”
You snorted and laughed as you relaxed into the bed.
“Wonderful censor you have there, Nika.”
“Fuck censor.”
“Well, that last time I said fuck here, I was looked at like I was the most uncouth Neanderthal. I suggest you keep your fucks to a minimum.”
Anika bounced you. “Will you be able to keep your fucks to a minimum?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Anika rolled her eyes. “Whatever! The air hasn’t even gotten a chance to come back down from the sweltering levels your guys’ flirting raised it to.”
Your jaw dropped. “Excuse me! There was no flirting.”
“Yes, there was, and it was not on your side alone. He was flirting with you too. What in the world is going on? I need the whole story without even the smallest detail left out.”
You sighed then proceeded to tell her the whole sordid tale. As instructed, you didn’t leave anything out. You even told her about that exchange between you and Henry before you walked out of the bar. At the end of story time, Anika had a huge grin on her face.
“What are you grinning at?”
“You. Leave it to you to get whisked away by a prince and have him fall; for you in record time.”
“No, no, no. Falling? Nika, you’re imagining things. He hasn’t fallen for anyone. He’s a prince, for crying out loud. They don’t fall for anyone, let alone some commoner. Have you never watched The Crown?”
Anika snorted and dropped to the bed at your feet.
“First of all, The Crown is whack. Second of all, this is not England. This place is fantastic. It’s like some Hallmark country where everything is beautiful, quaint, and perfect. You smiled and bit your bottom lip, agreeing fully.
“Third, I was sitting right here, listening to your banter. I think he could totally fall for you if he hasn’t already.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring everything she was saying. Anika loved to play matchmaker, though you hated every time she did it.
“You’re practically in his bed. We just have to get you there.”
You rolled your eyes again, shocked at how quickly she’d gotten there. “Okay, down, girl. According to this doctor, I’m falling apart, Nika. Any bed I’ll be in for a while is this one.”
“Well, now you have me here to encourage you to lap up the luxury and hospitality of his highness the prince of Brexendor. Get the fuck outta here!”
The two of you laughed loudly. This situation you’d found yourself into was the most ridiculous one either of you could have ever begun to imagine.
A few hours later, you found yourself alone while Anika settled in her room. Another knock sounded at your door. Being unable to open it yourself, you instructed them to come in. Once the doors opened in walked a beautiful girl about your age with long black hair and features similar to Henry’s. In your head, you suspected she was a family member. She smiled sweetly as she approached you. When she was by your bedside, she dropped onto the mattress.
“Hi.”
You returned her warm smile. “Hi.”
“My god, you are beautiful.”
You snorted, then pinched your lips together, trying to suppress your laugh. She was insane. You looked the worst you’d ever looked.
“You’re being kind. I haven’t showered in a week and only today got to comb my hair. You’re being very, very kind.”
She giggled but still looked genuine.
“I’m Jemma,” she said, holding her hand out to you. Once you took it, and instantly noted how soft they were.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“I have been trying to get here to introduce myself, but Henry told me to stay away so you could acclimate. Otherwise, I would have been here much sooner.”
You smiled and assured her it was fine.
“How are you doing?”
You shrugged. “I guess I’m okay.”
She didn’t look convinced and took you in for a few moments. “I’m sure my brother has brought all the best doctors for your care and has thought of everything that would ensure your comfort. With that treatment, I expect you to make a full recovery in no time.”
“Brother.”
“Yes. Please tell me you did not think I was his girlfriend or something of the sort.”
She looked disgusted, which made you laugh.
“No. I suspected a family member. So you’re a princess.”
Jemma rolled her eyes as she sighed out as if she was already tired of the conversation.
“Yes, but I promise it is not nearly as glamourous as you’re thinking. The only nice thing about it is the diamonds, everything else, eh.”
You smiled, already liking her. she gave off an air that said she didn’t take herself seriously and even liked to have a bit of fun more times than not.
“The staff is all abuzz with news that you will be residing with us for the next few weeks. Henry has told them to cater to your every whim, and because it came from him, everyone is in a tizzy over it, prepping to ensure you are at your most comfortable,” Jemma explained.
“What. No, that’s not what I want at all. They don’t have to go all out.”
“It’s okay.”
“No. then everyone will think I’m some prissy thing who likes to be waited on when that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Jemma took you for a little while, then took your hand and squeezed it gently.
“Not to worry, Xari. I assure you no one will think that.”
You sighed then tried to forget it because it was too late to change whether or not they thought it. You were sure everyone was already whispering about you and Anika, the two Americans who’d somehow found their way into the palace.
“Also, we are not as gossip centered as other monarchies. I promise,” Jemma added, raising her hand as if to swear it.
When she sensed you relaxed, she proceeded to ask a plethora of questions about you, ranging from where you were from to what you did and the all-important if you were single. You felt like you were on a modern-day “Who Wants to be Friends With a Princess” tv show. With every fact, you revealed she revealed a similar one and so on. After an hour, you found that you had plenty in common, something that was shocking for you.
When Anika came back, the party really stated. Your laughter picked up, as did the stories that Jemma revealed about royal life. Those stories prompted Anika to tell stories of life as a commoner in America as she called it. The only thing was her stories we mainly all about partying, dating, and men. With each story, Jemma’s eyes widened, and you felt like slowly Anika would end up corrupting her.
“Nika, stop. You’re going to have her on an episode of Princesses Gone Wild,” you joked, which had both of them in stitches on your bed.
“I will have you know that I am not some innocent wallflower. I know things,” Jemma countered.
You couldn’t help but laugh loudly. Just the way she said that told you she didn’t know very many things. That was when Jemma proceeded to list the names of the men she’d dated, a list of three men. Anika was the one to ask the nature of these relationships, to which Jemma said she knew in great detail the kind of underwear each man wore. You lost it right then and there, dropping onto the bed in a fit of laughter.
Exhaustion caught you off guard, dampening the mood of the night. Jemma assured you that she’d keep Anika company and show her around to give you time to take a nap. After thanking her, the two women walked out of your room, leaving you to silence. Once the door closed, it opened again. this time it was the woman named Audrina.
“Good evening, ma’am. Is there anything I can bring you?”
“No. I’m all right.”
She nodded, then closed the door leaving you again. You quickly drifted off to sleep.
~~~~~
-Henry-
He’d never met anyone quite as beautiful as you. he remembered when you’d walked into the bar and sat down beside him like you were right where you were supposed to be. You had no idea that the bar was empty because it was closed for him to be there, had no idea that he was not some ordinary citizen. He liked being a no one, especially if it meant he could sit there with you all night. He remembered wanting just that. If his phone hadn’t run, if he’d had more time, he probably would have tried to hold your hand. If he’d had more time, he would have gotten himself into an even bigger predicament than he was now—attracted to a woman he knew better than to touch.
Slowly he looked over the features of your face and took in each detail. He pressed the elements of your face to his memory so he could call on them when he was alone, buried in work. A sigh escaped him as a lite feeling filled him. It was an unfamiliar one. He wanted to touch you. It was an urge that was so strong he almost couldn’t overpower it—almost. He balled his fist and sat back in the settee beside your bed, trying to ignore the feelings that washed over him.
“Remember yourself,” he whispered before he looked back to the work he’d brought with him when he’d decided to pay you a quick visit.
This quick visit was an hour ago. When he found you asleep, he should have turned around and left, but he couldn’t. He intended to sit here for a few minutes, ten tops, but he still had yet to tear himself away. He mustered what was left of his control and focused on the screen before him and tried to write his speech for the new world bank’s upcoming opening.
This was one of his father’s pet projects, and he was filled with pride to see it to fruition, but also it made him miss the man more. Sighing, he closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples. Every time he thought of his father in the last few months, it brought him added stress. It was this stress that prevented him from sleeping longer than four hours a night.
“Christ,” he whispered.
“Are you all right?”
Jerking his head up, he saw you awake with your head still atop the pillow. You looked like a dream, or perhaps his best nightmare.
“I am sorry. Was I too loud?”
“No. I um—just happened to open my eyes.”
You slowly sat up, allowing the blanket to fall from your chest to your lap. As you adjusted yourself, he moved his laptop to the other side of the settee.
“You didn’t answer me, though. Are you all right?”
A smile tugged at his lips, but he fought it. “Me? Should it not be me be asking you that?”
“Can’t we ask each other?”
He studied you for a few moments, then nodded. “I am fine.”
“Liar.”
His jaw dropped, half shocked you would go there. There weren’t many people in his life that would dare.
“I take it no one calls his highness a liar,” you teased.
“You take it right. Maybe Jemma or my mother on occasion and a few of my friends but not many.”
You smiled, then shrugged. “I call em’ like I see em.’”
He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Pray tell, what gave me away to make you insult me so?”
Your smile widened before you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, bringing his eyes right there. He adjusted in the seat he sat and waited for you to continue.
“Your eyes are red, under your eyes puffy, and one doesn’t just say Christ to say Christ.”
You had him there. He pushed his fist under his chin and continued to watch you.
“So you are implying I look bad.”
You smirked then, and he picked up the change in the air.
“I mean, I’m sure I look the same as you. So take comfort in that.”
A chuckle escaped him. “So that is a yes; I do look bad.”
You looked at him but didn’t answer.
“I will take that as a yes on my part. however, regarding you, you look far from bad.”
You snorted then laughed, and it was the most shockingly endearing sound. It wasn’t a laugh he would hear from others in his company. Their laughs would be all dignified, but yours was genuine. It was also downright terrifying, but he preferred it.
“Now I know you’re a liar. I look absolutely disgusting. I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this, but I haven't showered in a week.”
He pinched his lips, hiding his smile. You looked so uncomfortable admitting that.
“Oh my.” He placed his hand over his mouth as if the fact mortified him.
You pinched your lips.
“Please tell me you have at least brushed your teeth.”
“Today was the first day in just as much time.”
Again he put his hand over his mouth and widened his eyes for emphasis. “Appalling.”
You snorted again, and the delightful laugh came back. This time the laugh looked to encompass your entire being, and you glowed. When your laughter subsided, you dabbed at your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. He held out his handkerchief to you. When you took it, you used it to replace your fingers.
“Thank you.”
When you finished, you inspected the fabric, then looked at him.
“You must like your women disgusting to still be here.”
He shrugged.
“How are you feeling?”
“After that nap, I’m feeling well.”
That made him happy.
“Are you feeling well enough for some dinner?”
“Uh—I was told I’m to stay in bed.”
“Yes, Dr. Alfonsi has informed me and the staff as well. That is why--,” he began before walking across the room to the door.
Once he opened it, the staff rolled in three carts filled with platters, trays, and bowls of plenty. Once the carts were parked, he thanked the staff and let them see themselves out.
“Dinner is served.”
The look on your face said you didn’t know what to say, so he uncovered the treys finding the menu items he’d chosen for the meal.
“I was not sure what you liked, so I had them bring all of it.”
He took up a plate and brought it to you. It took a few moments for you to take it, but you did. That was when he went back for his to sit back on the settee.
“Also, do not feel as if you have to eat ladylike for me,” he began.
You took up your fork and shoved an overflowing fork full of mashed potatoes into your mouth, letting a small glob rest at the side of your mouth.
“What was that, your highness?”
That was all it took for his attraction to turn to yearning.
The two of you ate in silence for the most part. He asked you questions to get to know you better, and every new piece of information he found out only made him like you more and more. When you spoke about your career, he heard the passion in your voice, and it spoke to something in him. It had been a long time since he’d been around anyone who was genuinely passionate about the things they enjoyed. It stirred something in him, something he wasn’t quite ready to uncover.
“I am sorry that I did not tell you once we met who I was.”
You paused with your fork in your mouth.
“It’s okay. To be real, why would you reveal to a stranger your secret identity. That’s like Clark Kent walking around in his incognito glasses with an S on his chest. It defeats the purpose.”
“Clark Kent. Superman.”
“Yes, one of my favorite superheroes.”
A soft smile spread across his face before he nodded.
“What’s yours? Wonder Woman?”
He scoffed, then shook his head as he stood and approached the carts, ready for dessert. It wasn’t the Strawberry Cheesecake he truly desired, but it would have to do. When he returned to his seat, he placed your plate in front of you and sat.
“It’s Wonder Woman, huh, or maybe Poison Ivy, ooh, Catwoman.”
He sat there patiently, letting you list them off. He couldn’t help but wonder why those were chosen.
“Before I answer, can I ask why you chose them?”
He saw the mischievous glint twinkle in your eye as your lips quirked up into a smirk.
“Oh, this, I must hear.”
“No reason. They’re just seen as the most desirable by fanboy standards,” you responded while rolling with your eyes.
He suppressed a chuckle to put a piece of the cheesecake into his mouth.
“So?”
“None of those.”
“Oh, please do enlighten me,” you quipped.
Resting the fork on the side of the dish, he responded. “Nubia and Storm.”
He sat there and thoroughly enjoyed watching the emotions wash over your face. Shock was the first, then disbelief, and finally awe. Now you sat there assessing him as if you thought he was pranking you. He was not. You opened your mouth to say something, and he stopped you before you did.
“I suggest you do not repeat it. I assure you I am not.”
Your eyes darkened right at the moment you sucked your bottom lip back into your mouth. Losing his train of thought and head for control, he put another piece of the cake into his mouth, licking the back of the fork. Your eyes lowered to his mouth and your teeth sunk into that delectable bottom lip. If he were a weaker man, he would have tossed the plate he held to the side and been on you in under five seconds, but he was not a weak man. As future King, weakness had no place in the monarchy.
Weakness was not an option until he saw you put the fork in your mouth to mirror his actions, only your tongue swirled around the teeth of the fork in a way that made his pants instantly too tight. Christ, help him.
He cleared his throat and changed his position on the couch to one that would hide your effect.
“Interesting. I didn’t expect those,” you stuttered.
“What did—what did you expect?”
You shrugged and toyed with the fork against your lips. “Something else, but I’m pleasantly surprised.”
Your eyes met again, and the temptation he felt was somehow more than he’d ever felt. He wanted you. He’d wanted you since you cursed about how disgusting the drink was at the bar. The only thing was, this want had shifted.
“I am happy it is pleasantly.”
Again your eyes lingered, and he wanted nothing more than to give in to the heavy cloud of temptation that filled the room.
“What’re you working on?”
He cleared his throat again and straightened himself. “Uh—a speech. One of my father’s projects premiers in a few days, the first since his um—” he cleared his throat again. “Since his passing, and I am going to be the one to cut the ribbon on it.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Keeping his eyes turned downward, he nodded. The sincerity in your voice touched him. “Thank you.”
The silence between you stretched for a few seconds before you spoke again.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“The speech, um—I do not know. It just does not feel right.”
“Want me to take a look?”
“Do you have an aptness for speeches?”
You placed your place to the side and adjusted your posture.
“Not speeches in general. I do have a knack for words. I’ve spent the last few years writing about the places I’ve gone in such a way that makes people want to go there themselves. I might know a little something, something.”
He smiled, put the plate beside him, and leaned forward to hand you his laptop. He watched as you read through the few paragraphs he’d already written and wondered what you thought of it. Every lift of your brow or nibble of your lip had him more and more curious as to the thoughts in your head. After a few minutes, you nodded.
“This isn’t bad. You sound like you’re on a good roll.”
“No critique?”
“How about you leave me with it for a day or two, and I’ll have some notes. Or, you could give it to your royal speechwriter.”
He chuckled. “What makes you think I have one of those?”
You rolled your eyes and smiled. “Hello, this is a monarchy. I am sure the monarchy employs people to make sure their dear prince is always PC.”
You were right.
“I think I would rather leave it with you,” he replied, making you smile in the process.
“Okay. I’ll knock your socks off then.”
“You already have,” he said, standing to take your plate.
He tried to arrange the empty plates, dishes, and classes on the carts in a way that wouldn’t have them falling once they were moved.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?”
He turned in time to see you wobbling toward him, clutching the IV pole with one hand and a plate with the other. He saw your knees buckle and wrapped you in his arms, taking you to the bed in the process. With you underneath him, he couldn't deny how right this felt. Your breathing was heavy, your eyes bright and chest heaving. The way you were looking at him made his next move the only possible one.
He brought his lips toward yours but right before he claimed them, he hesitated. The tiny sliver of space between your lips made it easy to feel the literal electricity that sparked between you. He was so close, but so far, and he wanted to get closer. The fact that you didn’t look as if you objected to this made his blood bubble with desire even more than it had hours ago when he first walked in.
“I apologize,” he whispered before he pulled away from you with whatever ounce of strength he had remaining. He stood before you then held his hands out to you.
“Let me help you.”
You placed your hands in his letting him hoist you up. He wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you back to the side of the bed you’d been this entire time. When he eased you down, he spread the blanket over you and assured you were comfortable. Being sure to keep his eyes away from yours, he turned to his things and gathered them.
“I will let you get some rest. If Dr. Alfonsi found out I were here preventing that, he would give me a stern talk.”
“Thank you for this,” you said.
He took his laptop from your bed and nodded. “I will email it to you.”
“You have my email?”
“I am head of this country; I have multiple resources at my disposal,” he replied, smirking at you. Your smile said you fully understood his meaning and knew he was teasing. You understood him. Yet another thing to like about you, he thought. He quickly averted his eyes then gave you a slight head bow.
“Good night, Xari.”
“Good night, your highness.”
He walked toward the door and poked his head out to instruct the waiting staff to remove the carts. The walk back to his room was filled with several stops as he thought to go back, but when he realized he couldn’t, he carried on his way. He’d never been filled with so many conflicting wants and thoughts before, and he suspected as the coming weeks stretched, this would be just the tip of the iceberg.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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