Missing (GHB x Daughter!Reader)

Ch10: Midnight Visitor

Universal POV

Late in the night, once all of the disappointed and amused party goers have gone, a lone olive-blooded servant begins sneaking about the manor from the depths of the servant's quarters. Creeping up the stairs and around the twisting corners of dark hallways, he bounds silently with precision and skill, almost as if he's done this a thousand times before.

His eyes shine with the moonlight, giving a soft yellow glow, piercing the darkness around. He bounds down the halls and across the foyer to the dining room, then off to the kitchen through the side door. Keeping low, he warily moves to the uneaten display tray of miscellaneous desserts. While making as little noise as possible, he transfers the treats to another tray with a lid to cover.

He scurries out the door quickly with the tray clutched securely in hand and up the foyer stairs to the maze of hallways beyond. The path is memorized; he steps without fault or hesitancy to his designated destination. He approaches the door with level breathing, clawed fingernails making a soft scraping noise on the wooded surface as he reaches for the cool metal of the doorknob.

The knob turns smoothly and the door opens with ease; he waltzes in, balancing the tray on an open palm, closing the door partway on the turnaround. At a glance, he sees her sleeping figure across him on the bed, her chest subtly rising and falling; with the dim light, she looks visibly distressed. Her (h/l) midnight locks are tousled about, and her eyes still appear to be puffy, as if she had been crying for hours.

He admires her strength.

She may seem fragile at first look, but one begins to notice the dignified twinkle in her eyes, the wary tautness of her stance, the blazing fire in her heart, and the look of pure intelligible hope set upon her face, even as she soundly sleeps. Her vulnerability does not constitute weakness or incapability; rather, she portrays the danger and regality of a resting and powerful beast, capable of inducing fear into the hearts of any who dare challenge her.

He nears her with caution, keeping mindful care not to disturb her. On the left side of the bed, he places the tray delicately upon her nightstand, sliding it into a secure position. Next to the lamp, he notices a small notebook and pen laying across haphazardly; he tears a sheet from the scratchpad and opens the pen, quickly scrawling a message into the lines:

"For her majesty"

He places the note atop the tray and gazes at her in a sense of melancholy for a brief moment before turning away promptly; he moves unhurriedly to the door that lies ajar across the room.

Behind him, the bed sheets rustle, and he stops dead in his tracks.

Reader POV

ScratchScratchScratchScratch

The sound of a pen scrawling on a hard surface pulls you from the dead of sleep. Your eyes are sore and heavy, and your head feels as if it's clouded by a dense fog.

You hear the paper tear and the soft padding of bare feet on carpet a few moments later.

"What the actual fuck...?" you think as you slowly roll over.

The footsteps stop, and you use all your sleepy strength to sit up. You squint your eyes and contort your face, trying to give a solid form to the dark figure standing in your room. And though you're only half-awake, barely able to concentrate, your eyes adjust to the darkness, and you're able to make out the figure of a teenage boy.

"What the hell..?" you whisper. "Who are you? And why the fuck are you in my room, in the middle of the night???"

He appears flustered as his hands flit about randomly, up and down. "U-um, well, your highness, you see....I-i, uh..."