Mystic in the Air - Ghirahim x female reader

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Coping

You toss and turn in bed. Sunlight streams in between the curtains. You squeeze your eyes shut. As a kid, you'd always try to reach the sun by flying towards it with your Loftwing. Groose broke those dreams after explaining it's an impossible distance away, off the planet. You miss your Loftwing a lot, almost as much as Groose and Skyloft in general. How long has it been? A month and a half? You open your eyes and look towards the window. The balcony outside is massive. You get an idea and spring out of bed to get dressed.

Ghirahim's POV: The Same Morning

I'm such an idiot. Why did I make a move on (y/n)? My ego got the best of me once again. I'm not all that and a hundred rupees. She'll never like me. She's just doing what she can to survive. I don't blame her. And here I am, sitting high in a castle with my priceless crown resting confidently on my head, thinking I'm entitled to everything, including people. I hate this feeling so much. I haven't left my room in a while. I flop down onto my bed and scream into a custom embroidered throw pillow. 

Someone knocks on my door. I jump up, rub my eyes, and open it. It's not Alcestis or (y/n), but instead the royal cook. I can't remember their name for the life of me.

"I came to check up on you, your majesty. I haven't seen you or (y/n) in the kitchen as of late," they explain.

They're staring me down, investigating every small feature on my face. I feel exposed.

"Your highness, have you left your room at all in the past three days?" they ask.

"Has it been three days? I can't remember," I grumble.

"No offense, your majesty, but you look terrible," they reply.

I run my fingers through my hair. It's slightly matted. My face scrunches as I work through the tangles. They watch with a straight face. I stride across the room and bend down in front of my dresser mirror. They're right, I do look horrible. My hair is more tangled than I realized. There are visible circles under my eyes. Makeup from a few days ago still hasn't been washed off. The cook walks up behind me and clasps their hands in front of them. I turn to them.

"It's not often I see a look so sorrowful in a person's eyes. Let me guess, heartbreak?" they ask.

"How did you know?" I ask.

They shrug. I sit on my bed and bury my face in my hands. They sit next to me. Normally I would be furious with someone invading my room without an invitation, but they seem harmless.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" they ask.

I look up, staring off into space, and shake my head.

"It may sound strange, but sometimes talking to a stranger can help," they elaborate.

"You'd have no idea what I'm talking about," I reply.

"Well, maybe, but I think I'll know more than you expect," they whisper.

I turn to them. 

"You know (y/n), right?"

Your POV: That Afternoon

Uttara wasn't in the kitchen when you grabbed something to eat, so you simply make yourself a sandwich and head back to your room. There's been a surplus of guards in the castle ever since the ball. Now, there's even one stationed outside your room. They don't seem to notice you as you enter your room or is trained not to care. You shut the door, take the final bite of your sandwich, and swing open the doors leading out to the balcony. It's a beautiful day. There doesn't seem to be a cloud in the sky, but you know there are. The cloud barrier stays hidden so far up it can't be seen. At least, that's what you were taught. You step outside, careful to leave the doors propped open. Your bedroom is one of the highest rooms in the castle, so you have a lovely view of both the garden and the surrounding area. There are so many tall, thick trees. The balcony is large enough for what you have in mind. You lean over the far railing, staring up at the sky, and whistle. As loud as you can. You wait a moment. Nothing happens. You whistle again. And again. Still nothing. You give it one last shot. The result stays the same. You sigh and turn around, about to head inside. A loud squawk pierces through the air. You turn back.