𝐀𝐧 𝐄𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞

the archnemesis

ALEX

"Goodbye, Theo," I grinned, giving him a playful pat on the back before we reluctantly pulled away from our hug.

Theo and I had been inseparable dorm buddies for three long years. Now, he was headed off to some posh boarding school in England thanks to that fancy student exchange program. I couldn't help but feel a mix of happiness for him and a selfish longing for his company. He wasn't just a friend; he was family.

But what stung even more than his departure was the unwelcome news of his replacement. Prince Henry of England, of all people. The history between me and Henry was about as harmonious as a rock concert in a library.

We clashed like oil and water, and I couldn't believe they were putting us in the same room. I'd pleaded with the student authorities to reconsider, begged for a different arrangement, but they shot me down without a second thought.

So, there I was, standing at the crossroads of a bittersweet goodbye and the looming dread of what awaited me in our shared dorm room. Prince Henry and I were in for a rocky ride, that much was certain.

The two-hour ride from the airport to our school dorm was a torturous anticipation of what awaited me. I finally reached my dorm room, fingers fumbling for the keys, only to find the door already unlocked. With a cautious creak, I pushed it open slightly, my curiosity piqued.

Inside, I laid eyes on a tall, blond figure who exuded a regal aura with every step. I squared my shoulders, suddenly aware of the need to maintain decorum. "Your Royal Highness," I greeted with all the politeness I could muster, although every word felt like hot coals in my mouth.

"Claremont-Diaz," he replied, his voice dripping with a mix of formality and something else I couldn't quite decipher. The tension in the room was palpable, and I couldn't help but wonder how on earth we were going to survive sharing this space.

"Welcome to our humble abode," I said with a tight smile, gesturing to the room.

Henry's gaze swept around, his expression unreadable. "Humble indeed," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I clenched my jaw, determined not to let him get under my skin. "Well, it's not Buckingham Palace, but it's home for now."

He scoffed, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "Yes, I can see that."

Our exchange was laced with bitterness and old grievances, neither of us willing to let go of the animosity that had defined our previous encounters.

With an uneasy silence hanging between us, I decided it was best to divert my attention to my side of the room. I started unpacking my bags, determined to ignore Henry's presence.

After a few moments, Henry couldn't resist stirring the pot. "So, Alex, I've heard you're quite the soccer star. Must be thrilling to play on such a basic level."

I glanced at him, my disdain barely concealed. "Well, I've heard rugby is just a bunch of guys bashing into each other. Not my style, I guess."

Henry raised an eyebrow, his voice laced with sarcasm. "I suppose I shouldn't expect much from someone like you."

As we exchanged these spiteful words, it was clear that any hope of finding common ground was slipping away, and our shared living space felt increasingly like a battleground.

Our exchange quickly escalated into a heated verbal battle, each word fueling the growing fire of our animosity.

"Oh, don't worry, Henry," I shot back, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "I wouldn't expect someone with your refined tastes to understand the beauty of the game."