Thirty One

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Arden
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   Her eyes scan the room top to bottom. "This is exactly what I thought it would be like."

   I laugh, "Will's room? Have you not seen it before?"

   She puts a hand on her chest faking a gaps, "Oh goodness no. It would be highly inappropriate for a girl to be in the prince's room." She jumps on the bed. I follow. I look down at my feet, we had forgotten our shoes.

   "Except his lover."

   She smirks, "Except his lover." She wags her brow again.

   "Oh not me," I shove her a little. "Iliana." I say her name, gagging a little at the end.

   She jumps, "Oh my god Arden, don't even get me started on that. He's a fucking idiot."

    We spent god knows how long ranting and joking. Laughing and talking. Allison had come in awhile ago and had brought us wine. We of course drank it, making us tipsy. Maybe a little drunk. The door opens catching both our attentions. My smile doesn't even drop when I see Will come in.

   His eyes widen at the sight of us, we had both changed into some of my new night dresses. They were a little on the showy side, but I don't think the seamstress would think I would mind since I was sharing a room with the man I'm supposed to marry. Maybe she even thought she was doing me a favor.

"Hi!" Gwen grinned stomach filled with wine.

"Hello?" He looks at us amused.

I stand up to greet him. I brush my dress, swaying a little, then give him my best curtesy. "Good evening your highness." I was trying to be serious when I said it, but as soon as Gwen's little snorts started to come out. I bursted out laughing.

He walks up to us shaking his head, and tisking. "Someone's a little drunk."

"Someone's a little judgey." I stab him in the chest with my finger. He looks down at my finger, his smile diming a little. I follow his gaze down.

"I'm going to go to the restroom." Gwen says quickly walking out of the room. I was confused to why she just didn't use Will's.

Will is the first to break the silence. "I told you we needed to talk, so you decided to get drunk."

I look at his face. "Do you know that you have a punchable face?"

He looks taken back. "I have a punchable face?"

I tilt my head examining it. "Hmmm, yea. Was it always like that or did you grow into it?"

"You know, I've never been told I had a punchable face before. So maybe it's just a thing you think."

I laugh, looking into his eyes. This was the first time he didn't have any hate in it. This was the first time he had even looked at me for this long. "Maybe," I wispier. I didn't realize how close we had gotten, my finger still on his chest. I lower it. "This is the first time I've seen you and not wanted to punch you in the face."

His smile completely drops. I wanted to curse myself. I didn't want his smile to be gone. It was such a pretty smile. One with two pretty dimples. He sometimes looks scary with his dark hair and eyes. But when he smiled, he didn't.

"You always find the meanest things to say." His tone is soft, a little sad.

"It's because I hate you."

I'm shocked when his hand reaches for my face. Even more shocked when he holds the left side of my cheek. "Yea," he sighs. "I'm starting to believe it."

His words make me feel guilty. I thought that's what we wanted, to hurt each other. So why is he making me feel bad? "You hate me." My words a little slurred.

"I do." I knew he wasn't lying. It hurt, but I was happy he was playing the game. I liked he was making me feel just as bad as I did to him. An eye for an eye. In this case, a heart for a heart.

"What do you hate about me?" This time, I was asking him this question. If there wasn't any wine in my stomach, I don't know if I would had said any of this.

"I hate that you're a cruel person." His words were like a slice of a sword.

"I hate that I could never had fully trusted you." I say, taking my turn. His face is blank of emotion, not telling me if my words were hurting him or not. I hope they were.

"I hate that even though you didn't kill him yourself, Carter's death will always be connected to you." That one hurt more than the one before, but if he wasn't showing me how he felt I wouldn't show him.

"I hate that you killed the man who took me." There, there was the emotion I wanted. I knew I did a low blow, but I wanted him to hurt. I also wanted the game to stop. The only way it was going to was if one of us showed we were hurt, and he did.

His hand leaves my face, the room seems colder now. Why did I do that? Why did I have to ruin everything once again?

He surprises me though, he doesn't stop the game. But he starts a new one. "I loathe you. I hate you because of what you did to us, to me. But I loathe you, because you're all I think about. Nothing consumes my thoughts more than you. I can't close my eyes without picturing you. I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can't look at the sky, the water, nothing that is blue without thinking of you. Without thinking of your piercing eyes, it's like you're always there. I can't escape you. I hate you even more for it. I hate you so much, it hurts."

I was too busy going over his words to notice he took a step closer. Too busy to notice our chest were touching. But not too busy to notice when he takes my chin in his hand, and raises it. No, I was not too busy for that.
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