The Lonely King | Ongoing [New Edition]

26 | Bianca

"Tiger on the prowl,

East of Eden,

Coming for you now."

❁❁❁

NOW, IF YOU told me I would be getting free piggyback rides from Robin Clair while simultaneously teasing him about kissing two months ago, I would, quite frankly, punch you in the face. But alas, you really never know what the future brings, right?

"Let me down," I said as we approached the campsite. Artificial light peeked through the thick foliage in front of us and the soft buzz of activity from the nearby campsite filled the silence.

"Your ankle–," Robin began.

"I know," I said, cutting him off. "Just put me down, I can manage on my own. You've been carrying me for more than half an hour."

Robin was quiet for a moment, before he crouched down to allow me to get off his back. I winced when my now-swollen ankle touched the ground, causing a sharp pain to shoot through my leg. I held my breath and slowly tried to balance myself without applying too much pressure on my injured foot.

Robin slipped his arm around my waist and heaved my arm over his shoulders, supporting me as we started towards to the campsite again, this time at snail's pace.

"Are you embarrassed to be with me?" Robin suddenly asked. Although his question held much weight, he said it so absentmindedly, as if he was asking me what I wanted to eat for breakfast.

"W-What?" I replied in shock, taken aback by his sudden question.

"You seem to be...uncomfortable with me when others are around," Robin explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft. He looked at his shoes with pursed lips, the only indication that he was somewhat nervous about my answer.

"Well, you're not wrong about that," I mumbled, biting my lip and tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. Robin stopped walking, turning his body to face mine. He didn't let go of my waist, but instead pulled me closer to him. My eyes widened in surprise and I peered up at him, a light blush already spreading across my cheeks at our close proximity.

"Why?" Robin practically demanded, his eyebrows flitting into a frown. I put my hands on his chest and pushed, trying to put some distance between us so I could think straight, but Robin did not budge an inch.

"Just because," I muttered, looking away.

"Tell me why, Alexandra," Robin asked again, his voice adopting a gentler tone-- one that made me weak in the knees.

"You're just you," I explained hesitantly. "Everyone's always watching your every move and to be scrutinised whenever I'm around you isn't the most comfortable thing. But I'm not embarrassed, Robin. Far from that. If anything, I would think you'd be embarrassed to be seen with me."

"Why would I be embarrassed to be seen with you?" Robin asked, his frown deepening. He looked genuinely flabbergasted at the idea of him being embarrassed of me, and for some reason, my heart skipped a beat because of that.

"You're the 'prince of the academy'," I boasted, waving my hand dramatically. Robin rolled his eyes at the ridiculous title. "And I'm the 'school's charity case'."

"You're not even poor," Robin snorted. "You're from a middle-income family. Just because you're surrounded by people from wealthier backgrounds does not make you poor."

"I know I'm not poor, but apparently not having a trust fund and a private jet places me near the poverty line in Meilleur," I muttered, rolling my eyes. It still astounds me how seriously Meilleureans took wealth and status. Was that all that mattered in their glittery lives?