Deconstructing Royalty

Two-Month Vacation

           At that point in time, the odds of getting into a car accident had to be 1 out of 10. The rain outside was not harmless droplets, but goblets of water being pitched wittingly at your windowpane. Moreover, the mighty winds could have made any child with an umbrella lose their footing and soar.

            Esmay continued to pace back and forth, transporting clothing articles from her wardrobe into the luggage on her bed, where Spencer was seated, observing her do so disquietingly. “How long did you say you were going to be gone?” Spencer mumbled, tugging negligently on the bed’s sheets. He couldn’t stay still for some reason: he crossed and uncrossed his legs, rotated his ankles, cracked his knuckles, stretched his arms, and scratched the back of his neck.

            Doubled over a long-sleeved shirt, she answered, “I told you, two months. It isn’t forever, Spence.” She placed the garment into her case, coiling a strand of her scarlet hair. “What’s got you so worked up?”

          “I’m not worked up,” he muttered, bowing his head, concealing his expression by means of his elongated bangs.

          Esmay set a candid hand on his shoulder as she situated herself next to him. She attempted to sweep those bothersome bangs, which constantly screened his handsome features, but he turned away. “For your information, I’ve always hated your bangs.” Listening to his vague laugh, she secured her eyelids and replayed that delicious sound again and again. “Come on. What’s bothering you?” She solicited, reopening her lids. He had casually whipped back his sleek fringes.

        “I’ll miss you,” he uttered. Esmay’s noggin brew up a storm of theories, leaving her lightheaded as Spencer continued. “And, well, frankly…”

          “Yes?” She pressed.

          He stared at her, somber. “You keep me sane, Ese.” With that beautiful sentence, the redhead induced the brunette into a genuine cuddle.