“Cerise!” came a shrill voice in Cerise’s ear. “¡Despiertate! ¡Despiertate!”
Cerise’s peaceful slumber abruptly ended as her eyes popped open to see Manuela standing above her, frantic.
“What is it?” Cerise demanded, sitting up suddenly. Her face was careful to not reveal distress; as she had trained it to over the years. Regality was natural to her, but it had a cost.
“Your father is coming home today!” Manuela cried.
Cerise’s heart dropped to her stomach and she suddenly found it impossible to keep a blank face. Her mouth formed a disgusted scowl and her eyebrows furrowed impulsively. Decorum, she reminded herself quickly, resuming her mask with consciousness.
“¡Necesito cocinar ahora!” Manuela wailed to herself, all but sprinting out of the room.
Cerise’s head drooped back onto the pillow. Her paradise was soon to end—as all fond reveries did for Cerise. She knew that this ending was palpable, but was mentally procrastinating the emotional preparation of such a sad farewell; convincing herself that the separation would never come.
“Baka,” she scolded herself in a whisper. She liked to use different languages to reprimand herself sometimes and today she felt like doing so in Japanese.
“What’s wrong?” a husky voice suddenly inquired, close to her ear. His heavy hand fell lightly upon the nape of her neck, brushing away her tresses with his thumb.
A shiver ran down her spine as he did so. She couldn’t look up—if she did, his eyes would be waiting, and their sheer resplendence would make her swoon. Her knees felt weak and suddenly struggled to hold up the weight of her head. She surrendered and fell onto his lap, still not looking up at him.
“My father is coming home today,” she told him faintly.
His fingers interlaced with her hair, clumsily dancing with the strands. “Is that bad?” he asked eventually, too entranced to speak for some time.
She hoped the blush on her cheeks wasn’t visible to him, but speculated that there was a fifty percent chance it was. With a sigh, she answered him again. “Yes.”
He let out a quiet laugh after she didn’t continue. “Is that all the insight you’re offering as to why?”
She smiled at his short burst of joy, knowing she was the source of it. Any chortle, any smirk she had caused him to make brought her inexplicable, maddening happiness; too strong to push under the surface.
“You’ll see when you meet him,” she said, offering that much as an explanation. She decided now was a good time to look up at him. “But hopefully not,”
His hair was dripping wet from the shower that he had leisurely taken (the cause of his absence during Manuela’s brief mental breakdown), and his skin radiated a decadent aroma. Cerise’s olfactory senses absorbed the scent with joy, as her eyes did a moment later.
She jerked up and jumped across the bed, her face burning hot. Her hands rapidly flew up to her eyes and she let out a quiet yelp of surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Harry questioned jokingly, knowing exactly the cause of her discomfort and smiling widely at it.
“Why—” she choked in a style akin to an old Hollywood actress. “You’re shirtless!”
