The Immortal Prince ✔️

20

Word Count: 1734

~Vaela

Pacing back and forth, I watch Hale, blissfully entertained by his sketchbook under the dim candlelight.

"I'm bored," I complain.

"There are plenty of things to do," he responds distractedly.

After dinner, we found ourselves in one of the far, generally avoided rooms. I'm not sure why we stay away. It's calm in here, with the low lighting, plenty of books and generous seating.

"Not really. Larsen has returned to whatever hellscape he comes from, Eyla is working and..." I draw off, swinging my arms around hopelessly.

"You could read?"

"All I ever do is read these days." I stride in front of him, back and forth. He doesn't glance up.

Groaning, I fall back into the chair opposite him in the most dramatic fashion I can manage. Boredom leeches from every pore, yet nothing sounds appetising enough to sate it.

Getting out of the cave would help, but I can already anticipate Hale's reaction if I brought it up.

Finally, Hale sets down his sketchbook, holding my gaze with him. "We can talk about anything you wish, then."

"We could make this more fun and drink a little." I haven't had alcohol since becoming mortal, and I'm curious to see how it affects me. And more importantly, I'm curious to see if it can wash away all the thoughts of Will that still plague me.

The slightest frown dips between Hale's brow. "Alcohol doesn't affect me."

I kick my legs around. "Surely you have something to take the edge off."

"I prefer sobriety."

He looks as though he's tempted to pick his book up again, so I get to my feet, ensuring that he can see how aggravated he's made me, and how in need of a distraction I am.

He rolls his eyes slightly. "But at the risk of contributing to your spiralling mental state, I can provide you with what you desire."

He holds his hand out, and suddenly a frosty bottle of clear liquid appears in his hand. I startle, still amazed by what he can conjure up.

I tilt my head, scrunching my nose distastefully. "That's tiny."

"You're mortal," he reminds me flatly.

"I'm mourning!" I prop my hands on my hips. Will wouldn't approve of me drinking with a Pureblood like this, but a night to remove the shackles of my pain would be a welcome relief.

"It's exactly why we will keep it to a minimum." He's bartering with me. He allows me to drink under his supervision, as long as it is not more than I could handle.

I'm in the mood to argue, but I'll take what I get before that bottle vanishes.

"Thank you, Hale." I grin sardonically, reaching for the bottle.

Before I can grasp it, he pulls it just out of my reach. "I'm only agreeing to this to see you smile again. Even if it's not for long."

"You're insufferable." I huff out a breath, snatching the bottle from him. It takes me seconds to unscrew the top and toss it all back.

I cough at the searing burn down my throat that it leaves in its wake. "Wow, this tastes worse than I remember."

"Sure does."

"Where's yours?" I ask, gesturing at Hale's bare hands. If I'm drinking alone, it's just sad. But with Hale, perhaps we can have a little fun.

"You are a terrible influence on me," he murmurs, although he doesn't sound particularly upset, as a bottle of his own appears in his hands.