Princess Charming

Eleven||Birthdays & Confrontations

If my updating were a menstrual cycle, this story would be pregnant.

I'm so sorry 😞

Also, in case any of you were wondering, I make the outfit collages on polyvore :)

C h a p t e r E l e v e n

Birthdays & Confrontations

♔ L u c y ♔

"He replied." Megan shoves the phone towards my face, jiggling it a little. That was very stupid, considering it made it harder to read.

The screen displays InstaChat, with a reply from Matt.

Matt: What? The fuck. Tell me who you are.

I bite my lips tentatively, my thumbs shaky as I reply.

Me: I can't.

Megan smiles at me a little sadly as I throw her her phone. She pockets it before shoving open her closet.

"I can't believe Heather's leaving already." She sighs, throwing a dress at me.

"I know, right?" I breathe as I press at some wrinkles on the dress. "I'm really gonna miss her."

Megan turns around with another dress hanging off her arm. "These are Heather's." She gestures to the two dresses. Meg takes the first dress from me and exits the room.

The next day, Heather leaves. Goodbyes are thrown in every direction and Linda tells us the rules of the house.

No parties.

No drinking.

No exaggerated noises.

Don't let strangers in.

After she, Heather and Megan's dad - George - leave the house to go to the airport, Megan and I spend time watching Teen Wolf.

The day drawls by quite lazily, and when it's eleven in the evening, it begins to rain.

I stare outside the window as the rain drops pitter patter on the surfaces, the fact that I'm turning seventeen in less than an hour dawning on me.

Having pulled an all-nightier the previous night, Megan fell asleep soon after dinner. The house is silent in a comforting manner, and the sound of raindrops eventually make me fall asleep.

"Goodnight, Princess." Dad tucks me in and kisses my forehead.

"Night, dad." I smile as I snuggle in the covers.

He is just about to close the door when I call, "Hey dad."

He turns on the ball of his feet. "Yes, sweetheart?" He sits down on the edge of my bed.

"Could you tell me more about mom?" I request, sounding as hopeful as possible.

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling. "Your mother, she was a talented woman. Your middle name comes from her nickname. She was beautiful, just like you. I'll never forget her smile, that dimple on her left cheek. And the way she twitched her nose when she got frustrated. She had the voice of an angel, Princess. I still remember the day we met. It was a Tuesday evening and it was pouring outside. She was sat at a café, drinking a mocha frappe. Even on a droopy day, her face was lit up like everything was perfect."

"Did you love her, daddy?" I quiz.

He nods, making eye contact, my eyes identical to his. "Lots." He lets out an air of breath he was holding. "I still can't forgive myself for leaving her. I never should have done that."