Fanciful Angst (Prinxiety Fanfiction)

Chapter Seventeen: A Thing Called Love

*Princey's POV*

Once the video ended, I quickly returned to my room to begin detoxing from Anxiety. If I was going to get that black-hooded Romeo out of my head and out of my heart, I had to take severe actions. I sat down at my desk to think, when a small piece of paper caught my eye. I pinched the note and slowly pulled it out from under my book. 

I remember this. This was the list I made when I was learning all of those new things about Anxiety. I decided one note that it was too much to keep in my head, so I began to write it down. 

Genuine 

Can Hold a NoteIs A Disney FanNever Said I was WrongAfraid of HorsesDoesn't Wear PajamasTastes Like Black Licorice

These are the things I've learned about Anxiety

I smiled to myself before I remembered what awful things he's done to me, and the fact that I was supposed to be forgetting about him. I frowned and crumbled the paper into a ball, chucking it in the general direction of my trash bin, not caring where it truly landed. I flopped down onto my mattress and groaned; it had been awhile since I truly appreciated the soft, linen comfort my bed provided me; as I curled up into a ball, I thought back on the events that have been occurring since New Years' and just how much they've taken a toll on me. Carrying a torch for someone who can't even tolerate being in the same room as you for more than the length of an average YouTube video was extremely trying. I pulled my blanket up over my shoulders and let it wrap me up in a hug, the only hug I'll be receiving anytime soon. My eyes shut without even trying and the sweet pleasure of sleep lured me in closer. If the only place I can go to escape you is sleep, then so be it. 

I awoke later, much later. Surely, it's been several hours because the sun is gone and it's too obscurely dark to even tell if it's late night or early morning. I was about to force my body back to sleep when I heard a startling sound from the next room. It wasn't like someone dropping a shampoo bottle in the shower or accidentally kicking the wall in their sleep, this was a much more treacherous sound, made even more evident by the scream that accompanied it. 

I was too busy fighting my sheets to get up and trying to yank open this STUPID DOOR to remember my Anxiety embargo. I couldn't do it. I couldn't rid myself of this. Love isn't a switch I can turn on and off. This isn't a free sample I can politely refuse, this is a burning, aching, physical and mental need. I need to love him. I do love him. Maybe that's why I've always tried to rescue him. 

I didn't waste anytime with nonsense like doorknobs with my Anx on the other side; I pounded the door open with the physical force of my shoulder, forcing it off the hinges and out of my way. When I surveyed the room, I almost screamed myself. 

"Anxiety!!!!"

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*Anxiety's POV*

Right after the video, I ran to my room to begin a plan to get Princey to forgive me. He was the master of grand gestures, so it had to be bigger and more fantastical than he would ever be able to dream up himself. 

I plunked down on my floor, black leather notebook in hand and began to scribble down ideas. Some of them were awesome, most of them were terrible and I hate myself for even thinking of them. Some involved music, some involved long scripted apologies, some involved props, some involved just knocking on his door, heart in hand, asking for his forgiveness. Even with a list seven pages long, front and back, of potential ideas, I was still coming up blank. Nothing seemed good enough for Princey. Write him a poem? Too sappy. Text him some pick-up lines? Too cheesy. Scale the side of the house and knock on his window? Too Heathers-y. Slip a note under his door? Too Rom-comedy. I sat for hours writing and scratching out ideas, inking a line through a plan as soon as I wrote it. I could feel the sun setting and the moon was my ticking clock, but I couldn't rush this. I needed this to be perfect, but I was getting nowhere!