The Royal Heir - Dancing with my eyes closed

Personal interaction

(chapter contains light NSFW content, and the cutest art scene by Mativious (IG)!)

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Ever had that feeling when you wake up where you're completely unaware of what time it is and disorientated? I've pretty much had it every day for the last couple of weeks, and this morning's no exception. Then I realise where I am, and who I'm with, and everything feels a little better as I snuggle into my wine guy in the peaceful morning sunshine.

And then I remember why it's so peaceful. I remember that there'll be no little voice shouting me back across the corridor this morning. Because that little voice is locked away in Ramsford, away from her family and everything she loves. Now I get that sinking feeling, and I sigh deeply.

There's a rustling next to me, and I feel a strong, warm arm draw me in closer. "Hey. Stay with me, blue eyes. Don't leave me."

I'm not planning on doing that, not this time, not ever again. I wrap my own arms around Tommy, squish him tight against me, and breathe him in. Afterwards, I open my eyes to see him studying me carefully. He must be able to see the sadness in my eyes; the exhaustion of loss on my brow.

"It's been a week. I get that."

"You could say that." I roll over fully to face him. "How are you feeling this morning?"

He tries to move around a bit, but doesn't get very far without wincing. "Like I've done a few rounds in the ring, not gonna lie. I feel bruised all over, and my head's pounding. But worst of all, my heart's breaking for what you're going through."

Yeah. It feels like the whole world's been whipped upside down and nothing is right. I just nod.

"Wanna tell me what's on your mind?"

"Wow, where to begin?" I sit up a little. "First I find out my dad was a killer, then he takes my little girl away... my brother's still giving me the cold shoulder, my so-called best friend hates me again, my wife's still dead... and then to top it all off, you keel over on me..."

"Yeah," he sighs. "It's been a rough ride for both of us."

Realising how selfish I sound, I take his hand and fidget with it reassuringly. "I put you through hell last week. There's no wonder you got sick."

"You didn't make me sick," he insists, kissing my hand. "Seems like you're going through enough emotions right now without adding guilt in there."

"Oh, guilt's in there already," I sigh. "I know I should have done better by Bella. But also, I'm not used to being this angry." I feel the heat rise in my chest.

"It's right for you to feel angry," Tommy murmurs, his lips still lingering close to my hand. "This is something that has been done to you, Maxwell. It's not something you've done."

He's right.

"You can let it out, you know. That anger. If it helps. At least, talk to me about it."

His voice is so soothing, it takes some of the anger away. "Well, I'm angry at my dad, obviously, for tearing my world apart. Angry at Bertrand too, for being so stubborn, and so blind to how evil Dad can be, how crafty, how conniving... How can I be related to either of them?"

"I think you've got all their best parts," he says, gazing up at me. "You're protective when you need to be, like Bertrand. And you're clever like your dad. Except you use your powers for good."

I like that! "So you're saying I'm a dashing, grizzled anti-hero?"

"Not exactly. But you're my hero, blue eyes."