𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧, young royals

20: Synapses

20: Synapses

He was watching me.

I could feel his eyes drill holes into the back of my head every time I turned away, and I think some part of me relished his scrutiny.

I also think he knew I was watching him, too, though it was only on a few occasions that we made eye-contact.  For some reason, I could not bear to hold it for more than a second.

Looking at him from afar was enough to make my flesh itch and burn with desire.  With his curls that toppled and bounced with every head motion and his skin that caught the pink hue of the projector light.  Whenever he adjusted his shirt, his Hillerska vest buttoned tightly around his waist and torso, I could glimpse at the brief show of his collarbones.

Mikael was watching me, too, shooting me wondering glances from Simon's side, and I pointedly ignored his pathetic attempts to grab my attention.

By 11pm, Stella had sat down and taken off her heels, curling her naked feet behind a tablecloth.  I sat quietly with her, sipping on a glass of virgin champagne, wishing there actually was alcohol in it.

Between chatting with friends, dancing, and sitting down, we hadn't done much.  Stella was a decent company, and it was safe to say that this night had been fairly uneventful.  For now, I thought crossly, crossing one knee over the other as I watched the rest of the students shooting pointed glances at Stella and I.

"How long until they stop talking about it?" asked Stella comically, leaning over my shoulder.

"You're a girl," I replied blatantly, "you should know about gossip."

She shrugged.

"I give them a few weeks."

I peeped at her expression from the corned of my eye.  Stella was visibly not as bothered by the whispers as I was, but she'd only heard them for one evening.  They had followed me everywhere I stepped foot since birth.

"Your fault for picking the prince," I remarked.

Stella tilted her head at me.

"You make it sound like being a prince is a bad thing," she said, tapping her index on the rim of her glass.  "You know, plenty of people would kill to date royalty."

I scoffed sardonically.  "Think so?"

I cast my eyes across the room at Simon chatting with Mikael and the choir teacher and frowned.  Clearly not him.

"Felice had the biggest crush on you last semester," added Stella with a shrug.  "Always wondered why it never worked out between you two."

"Felice wanted to date the prince," I pointed out bitterly, turning back to her, "not me."

She nodded and set her empty glass down with a soft thud.

"So you're a romantic," she commented, hunching down to strap her heels back on.  "Hold on to that, Wilhelm, there's very few left.  I'm going to the bathroom."

And with that, she leapt on her feet and strolled away, leaving me to sit alone in my corner.  I was starting to really wonder which mysterious guy had reality-checked her hopes and dream about love.  Clearly, that's the kind of champagne problems Hillerska seemed to be providing to people.

Barely a few minutes later, Felice grasped the opportunity to come fill the seat that Stella left empty beside me.  I watched as she plopped down on the chair without a word, looking more gathered and holding herself a little straighter than when I saw her earlier.  For a couple of seconds, we just stared at each other without saying anything.