The Prince that Saved Me

Chapter XXIII

| Elizabeth's casual look |

I turn on the bedside lamp and grab my book, my biography of Michelle Obama, and began to read it. I am mildly obsessed with America's First Lady, she is a true inspiration and the definition of class.

I placed my book down, only 20 minutes later, deciding I was too tired to read anything. So, I snuck across the hallway to my art room.

*
One day, not too long ago, Harold surprised me with renovating a room in our house and dedicated it to my art. He blind-folded me and led me into the room and when he finally let me see, I almost cried. In the middle of the room was my painting of his green eyes, sitting on its canvas.

"How'd you find out about this?" I ask, going over to examine my work. I unconsciously ran circles on my rounding belly. "George and your mother came over to drop it off when we first moved here." He said, coming over, closer to me. "They said you forgot to clear your art room and I figured if you could make this masterpiece, you obviously have a talent that should be recognized." He chuckled a bit and kissed my cheek from behind me. "I love it in here." I say, spinning to see the room better. "It's an art heaven dream."
*

When I was finished in my art room, I tried sneaking back into the bedroom, but it was all in vain. "Finally." He says. I smile automatically at the sight of him. "Finally? Were you waiting for me?" I say, trying to relax myself on the bed. "I was. Even though Gemma said you'd be in our room, probably sleeping." He says, shrugging his shirt off. "Because your feet hurt, so much."

"Well they do hurt, but I haven't been in my art room in months. I missed it." I say. Realizing that I'm not going to comfortably lie down anytime soon, I decided to go over to wrap my arms around his torso. I loved the feeling of his smooth back against my cheek. "Ah, ah, ah! I know I look deliciously tempting, but Gemma said no heavy labour for you. In bed, to sleep." He laughs.

"Don't kid yourself, that's what I was about to do, I just can't get comfortable." I say, rolling my eyes and shifting over to my side of the bed. He undresses almost completely, keeping only his underwear on, before climbing next to me in bed. "You're alright?" He asks me, lying his head on my lap. I shuffle around a bit before glancing down at the back of his head; wild with curly, chocolate locks. "Yes, Haz. I'm fine- well aside from the swollen feet-"

"What I mean is- are you happy?" He says, sitting up and looking at me. He watched me as if he already knew the answer and was waiting to catch me in a lie. "I-I... I'm adapting-"

"I asked if you were happy, Eliza." He said, now sitting up and resting one of his hands on the side of my face. "I am happy. Happy that I'm a part of your life and I'm having your child. I'm happy that I've found someone that completes me and loves me. I just feel... lonely sometimes. I miss you, a lot." I say, honestly. 

I've been getting better with sharing my true feelings. Sometimes it's hard for me, but for the most part, I am learning how to speak my mind, confidently.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" He says, pulling me into him. We were so close together and I felt so warm; it was great. "I didn't want to distract you from anything. I thought it was just protocol. Besides, your mum said everything will soon go back to normal." I say, shrugging my shoulders. "This is something that you should share with me. If you feel lonely or down, I would be home in a snap of a finger. I'm only a phone call away, love." He whispers, resting his forehead against mine. "I know but I don't want to be-"

"-A bother? I know. But you aren't. You're my very pregnant fiancée. And even if you weren't pregnant, you're the love of my life. You come before anything else in my entire universe, okay?" I only shake my head, trying to hide my blush. When he says sweet things like this, it's hard to not love him.