His Princess

Chapter One

Dani:

The bridge of Uptown Funk rumbled from the speakers of my alarm clock, announcing it was time to wake up. 8:30 a.m on a Friday. It seemed to me that Fridays were meant for getting shit done so the weekend in question could be spent whichever way you pleased. Which in my case seemed to be a lot of sleep I needed to catch up on. There had been a lot of sleepless nights thinking about Charlotte.

Yawning, I turned to Charlotte Atwood who was peacefully asleep next to me. Her cheek was pressed into the bedspread. It was a shame to have to wake her but if she was late for her Composition class, the next time she would allow for another date would probably be during the funeral after she killed me.

Gently I wake her, whispering in her ear. "Good morning. Wakey wakey."

Her eyes blinked a few times before it registered in her head where she had fallen asleep at. Of course, being the gentleman I pride myself in being I had offered to walk her across campus to the dorms. Charlotte had refused. She was exhausted.

"Good morning." She muttered, shaking herself awake.

We had covered a lot of topics last night in between kissing. And as much as I did enjoy hearing about her goals, favorite foods, and most embarrassing moments, kissing her big pouty lips was extraordinarily fun.

"Sleep well?"

She nodded silently as I swept her hair from where it hung in her eyes. Her hair was an adorable mess of tangled waves. It made me want to kiss her more.

"So, Composition class at ten. Microbiology at two. Then my day's pretty much free." She tells me, sitting up in bed.

My Intro to Psych class is canceled this week, the professor's wife just have birth to twins. I have to work from two to seven at the library.

"Maybe you can come over later and watch a movie? I'll get Heather to actually leave the apartment for once." I snickered.

It was common knowledge I wasn't too fond of my roommate. She's nice enough aside from her aversion to clothing. I've known her since freshman year, we had a suite with another girl named Darla who ended up transferring to a college in Arizona. Heather is just so focused on her education she probably hasn't stepped out of the apartment other than to attend her courses in a month plus.

In reference to my invite to come watch a movie, Charlotte replied, "I'll bring the snacks."

I frowned in protest. "No way! You cooked us dinner last night. The least I can do is scrounge up some snacks."

She shrugged, grinning playfully at me, her emerald colored eyes shimmering in the early morning light. "Whatever you say, my prince."

Butterflies swarmed in my belly, turning my insides into warm goo.

I walked Charlotte out and then started on my essay for American History class. For the record, it's a lot more compelling than I thought it would have been. Last week we studied the contrast between dictators and favored American authors.

In the living room I spread my notes out in front of me on the coffee table. Plugged in my laptop because its battery is significantly low. I turned on an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond purely for background noise.

My parents never watched much TV at our house. In fact, until I was fifteen we as a family did not own a TV. The Sumners were a very conservative family. Are still; even my little sister Joyce. My parents are both psychologists. Thinkers. Thrived off logic. Facts. Straightforward cold hearted people. As much as psychology interest me, I could never go into a career around it.