The image of the blond tall girl and Caspian wrapping their hands and limbs in twists together in his king sized made for two keep replaying in Idas head. Her sobs have dried her weak. She's been laying in bed ever since she got home from Caspian's. It's late now. Five p.m. it blinks on her clock and she blinks back. The plan to have the dinner party is still on for six and Ida doesn't think she has any will to attend.
Her dads fist pounds excessively on her locked door.
"What?" She groans, her face muffled into the warm comforts of her pillow as she fists the comforter.
"Let me in!" He shouts so she can hear.
Gathering her wits and wiping furiously under her eyes, she wobbles to stand up and treks towards her door before unlocking it and opening.
Her father stares with concern at her. It's almost like he has double vision and can see right through her facade.
"What happened?" He whispered.
She just shook her head, biting on her lip. Too scared to test her voice, "Please, not now. Not yet." She says, not ready to talk about Caspian with her dad yet. He never approved of their relationship. He absolutely hates Caspians immature acts and the fact that he has no future goals in mind.
"Okay. Okay." Her father nods, gesturing his arms out for her to fall into and she does. The tears turn out not to be dry and well up her eyes. His t-shirt drowns in her salty tears but he doesn't seem to mind.
It's ten past five now and Ida is curled back up into her bed sheets. Her father decided that when she wanted to talk, he'd always be ready for it. She thanked him and said for now she wanted to be alone and also she'd not be making it to the dinner party. He was restless about it at first, telling her it'd be rude but relented at last and let her stay behind for this one.
Her door croaked open, Ida cursed quietly, she forgot to lock it.
Turning her body sideways, she sees her four foot-something brother crowding in the doorway.
"Hey, sunshine." He greets, his hand tightening around the doorknob.
"Hey, clouds." She smiles back, endearingly and pats a seat next to her on her bed.
With a smile, he runs like a penguin towards her and jumps on her bed and into Idas arms.
She stumbles back a bit, but soon regain control and squeezes Henry's small body gently in hers.
"You okay?" He asked, moving his head out of her neck to look at her.
She nods, poking his soft nose with her thumb. "Of course."
"No." He shakes his head, his shaggy hair—way too long for his face—falls into his eyes.
Ida laughs softly, gently taking his long sandy bangs away from his face. "You need a haircut." She tries to divert the conversation.
He deadpans. He's smart. What do you expect?
With a sigh, Ida cross crosses on her bed and clamps her hands together on her lap.
Henry folds his legs underneath him and sits beside her. "Will you braid my hair?" He suddenly asks in a small voice.
It's something they share between the two in secrecy. Henry always used to say how much he love Ida's long hair, especially when it was braided. He'd compliment her and tell her, he wished he looked like her. She would just smile and cuddle the life out of him before telling him that he was the most handsomest prince in the entire world.
"Come here." She tells him and he gets into a position where he's sat in front of her with his face back facing her front.
Her fingers rake through his soft juvenile hair in place of a comb before beginning to braid it in gentle coils.
