Tragically a Princess

Chapter 7 Worried

"Tessa, you're awake," Beckett says walking in, sounding surprised.

I look up from the book I was reading, and over to the clock. "I've been up for the past four hours."

"Four hours? Why weren't you asleep?"

"I had a nightmare and I couldn't go back to sleep."

"I thought you were sleeping through the night."

"I did when I was sleeping next to you. Last night I didn't."

"You should take to your parents about therapy."

"Why?"

"You need your sleep."

"Whatever," I mutter.

He sighs. "You're tired, which means you're going to be grumpy. How about we go get breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry," I say getting up off the floor.

"You need to eat."

"I don't want to Beckett. I want to be left alone."

"Do you really want to be left alone?"

No. "Yes."

"How about this, I go get breakfast and bring it back here?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Either we both get down and get food, or I bring it up here." He tells me.

"Fine," I tell him. "Bring the food up here please."

"Ok, I'll be back."

I nod as he leaves. I don't want to eat, but I know Beckett won't let me not eat. He means well, I know he does.

I sit down on my bed and lay back. I wish I could have slept last night. I don't want to be this way to Beckett. Him saying that we shouldn't be together last night hurt me a lot. I should have known better. I should have known it was over when he left, and if not then it was when he told me he was going to be my bodyguard.

My door opens and I assume it's Beckett. "I brought up food and coffee. Iced coffee."

I sit up and he hands me the iced coffee. I've missed coffee. "Are you going to eat?" he asks.

I look over at the food. Waffles, bacon, and fruit. It all looks good. "I know that you don't like to drink coffee on an empty stomach."

Of course, it's a way to get me to eat. It's a good way too because now I'm going to eat. I get up and grab some fruit and eat it. I also grab a waffle and some bacon.

Beckett watched me and smiles. "Knew that would work."

I roll my eyes.

~#~

I sit on my bed flipping through an old scrapbook, while Beckett sits at my desk and works on something. There's a knock on my door and it opens. The king and queen walk in. My parents.

Beckett gets up and bows. They smile at him and turn to me. "How are you doing?" the queen, my mother asks, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"I'm doing... okay," I tell her.

"Well, your father and I were talking and Beckett also has some concerns."

I look over at Beckett who's looking at me. "Concerns?" I ask looking at her.

"Yes, we're talking about therapy. You've been through something traumatic and it was worse than what we could have planned."