Royalty // Luke Hemmings [English Translation]

0.5

"I can't believe you made me run away from those journalists!" Lucas exclaims while we walk to our room.

I snort. "How long are you going to complain?" He slightly reminds me of my parents, who have been saying for years now: "why didn't we send her to boarding school?". Ashton never lost the chance to answer: "why didn't you use a condom when you had to?"

Luke grasps my arm, causing me to stop in my tracks. I turn to face him and notice he's staring at something, or better... someone. "Who is that girl over there?" he whispers.

I follow his gaze and see a girl talking to a professor, she's saying something like "Oh God, I missed the conjunction you used in that sentence, can you please say it again? I don't want to get an A- ." She's got wavy brown hair with a widow's peak, small but full lips, chestnut brown eyes and she's dressed pretty... oddly.

"What is she wearing?" I say before I can stop myself.
"She's wearing a blouse, a skirt with a flower pattern and flats."
"Flats should be illegal. The government should tax whoever dares to wear them."
"At least it's better than what you're wearing." Lucas comments. Wow, I'm impressed. That's the first mean comment I've ever heard from him.

I can't quite understand what's wrong with my black jeans, jersey and worn-out Vans. He should be grateful I didn't wear a snapback cap. "Anyway, I have no idea what her name is." I start walking, but the prince stops me once again. "Luke?"

"You're lying, you know her name!"
I roll my eyes and hear my belly growling. "You know when we passed that door earlier, we heard that grumble like there was an earthquake or something, and I told you the doors here make odd noises?"

He nods his head, confused. "Yes, so?" 

"It was my belly demanding food. Can we please go get something to eat?"

He's looking at me with pleading eyes. "I'll go talk to her for a minute, then we can go. Promise."

I point to his hand still wrapped around my wrist and he murmurs some apologies before heading to the girl. She blushes noticeably as soos as she sees him, and the two of them exchange a few words before he comes back triumphantly to where I'm standing.

"So, what's her name?" I ask, not really interested. Does he really have to choose now of all times to find his wife/future queen of Scotland?
"I don't know..." he mumbles.
"You don't know? What did you say to her?!"
"I told her 'what a nice day it is, isn't it?', she said 'yes, it is' and I walked away."

If this door over here wasn't made of solid wood, I'd definitely bang my head against it. "You're pretty dumb for a prince." I say and walk toward the girl without giving him time to scold me for my lack of manners.

"Hi!" I say to her smiling, but she looks scared. "Sorry, can I get your name?"

"Eleonor, why?"

I shrug. "Eleonor, Queen of Scots. Sounds good, doesn't it?" She goggles and I pat her shoulder, ready to go. "Just a friendly piece of advice: you know those flats you're wearing? I think they're perfect for a bonfire."

"But you're supposed to be barefoot when you're having a bonfire on the beach..."

"So throw 'em in the flames." 

"Good mornin' guys." I say loudly when I get to my room.
Lazily resting on the couch there are Michael, who looks bored watching the tv, Zayn, whose head is moving to the music he's listening to - rap, of course - and Harry, who's playing around with his phone.

Michael mutters something in response, Zayn simply ignores me and Harry glances rapidly at me.
"Good morning to you too, Mary!" Liam shouts from the kitchen. Oh boy.