The Girl behind the Throne (Editing)

Chapter 5

I woke up to the feeling of something tickle my face. I shook my head, keeping my eyes closed, and it stopped for a second, before returning. Lifting my hand, I batted the air above my head. Again, the same thing happened, brief relief, followed by the incredibly itchy tickle returning. Sighing heavily, I popped one eye open by mere millimetres, trying to hold onto sleep for just a little while longer. What I saw almost made me yelp and fall straight out of the bed.

Jamie was lying beside me, his long, toned body almost pressed up against mine, one of my long costume feathers in his hand. Because it was so hot, I just had my small pyjama set, of a string top and shorts, covered by a very light cotton sheet. I closed my eye again, and made a big show of rolling over dramatically, so that I was facing Jamie.

I watched under the camouflage of my lashes, as Jamie went completely still as I turned around, waiting a couple of seconds before starting his torture again. He had his tongue out in concentration, as he lifted the feather to my nose and lightly tickled.

I didn't react, and it was torture, I forced myself to keep my eyes closed, not to give him the reaction he was looking for. Suddenly, another marvellous idea came into my head. I held my breath, making it look as though I had suddenly stopped breathing. I watched as Jamie stopped tickling my face, and looking quite alarmed, moved closer, so that his ear was near to my mouth; which was my cue to shout loudly in his ear, shocked, Jamie fell straight off the bed, banging his head lightly on my wooden bedside table.

'Motherfu-.'Jamie began to shout and I cut him off.

'Good morning sunshine.' I yelled down at him, watching, cursing and rubbing a sore spot on the back of his head, his face scrunched up in discomfort.

'Well played, Tessie.' He replied, once he had stopped yelling my house down, the grudging respect in his tone making me beam.

'That's what you get for underestimating me.' I said with a self assured grin, and began to stretch my arms, pulling them up and over my head.

Normally I would have no problem doing this in front of Jamie. I fully believed that he found me about as attractive as a painted rock, but as I stretched out the kinks of sleep from my body, I swear he watched everything as intently as a hawk.

Instead of being brave enough to address it, I blushed, looking away, noticing for the first time that there was loud banging coming up the stairs, from the direction of the kitchen.

'My dad isn't here? Is he?' I replied frowning and shooting a quick look at the time on my phone. It was noon; dad wouldn't be home for hours and hours yet. Plus, it wouldn't be good if he was here while Jamie was, it would just put him in an uncomfortable position against the Queen, and she was scary enough as it was.

Jamie shook his head, a small smile playing on his ample lips. 'Alas, no, that's just Andrew; he's looking for a jug to make his margaritas in.'

'But it's just noon?' I asked, stifling a yawn. I ran my hand through my hair and pulled it out of the knot bun it had been in.

Again, Jamie tracked my movements, watching my hair fall down from it knot into the wild and unruly waves which he loved to play with. It seemed like his eyelids went hooded for a second, before he shook himself awake.

'Andrew says, and I quote 'margaritas have lime in them, lime is a fruit, so technically it's a fruit salad, and not a potent cocktail." Jamie imitated Andrew in a perfect way, so good that Andrew yelled up from the kitchen.

'Am I really, really drunk, or did I just talk to myself?' Andrew's paranoid bellows were followed by another clink and bang, and the sound of a blender turning on.