In The Name Of Love

Chapter 8

I face planted Mircea's bed. He lay down next to me putting an arm behind his head. I groaned for no apparent reason. Mircea just breathed and somehow that was relaxing. I flipped over and looked at the ceiling.

"Looooooong week," I said.

"He's right. I'm sorry I lied to you."

"Mircea? Shut up."

He reached down and held my hand. "Mama likes you."

"Yeah?" I sighed.

"A lot."

I breathed a sigh of relief only then realising how worried I was that she didn't like me and that I'd embarrassed her.

"And apart from ranting about door handles and thinking royalty uses the tube... You did really well."

"I thought you liked the tube."

"I do."

I looked over at him. He was staring blankly at the ceiling. "Did you do royal stuff before you came over here?"

"No. Mama said you did well. In the last few months I've been making calls back and giving my opinion on a few things."

"Oh. What score did she give you?"

"Nine point five. You got a respectable seven and a half. You kept on slouching."

"Oh. How tragic. It's not like Andrew was sitting up all the time."

"I didn't realise you were on a first name basis," he said with a laugh.

"Oh, me and Andy go years back. We're like this," I crossed my fingers and he laughed.

"We should probably tell our friends. We're lucky your press did not air a photo of me," he said.

"Yeah. Who are you telling?"

"Jess and Stewart. You?"

"Housemates. Martha, Rick, Tony... Holly when I can get hold of her."

"You have a lot more people to tell than I."

"I've been here longer than you."

"I realised that I can do this last week. But only if I have you with me. And that's what made me realise that I couldn't lie to you anymore."

I smiled softly. "You're the one keeping me sane too."

He shifted onto his side and traced a line from my hairline to my chin. "How do you do that?"

"I just know you that well."

 "Wyn, we are going to be able to do this aren't we?"

I drew him into my arms and pressed a kiss to his hair. "Of course we are."

* * * * *

We woke up the next morning still in the clothes we'd been wearing the day before and still above the covers. He hadn't had a single nightmare. As neither of us had set an alarm we'd slept in. It was half eleven, part way through my lecture, when I woke up and another hour had passed before he awoke. I'd stayed lying with him the whole time.

"You should have woken me up," he yawned.

"You've hardly slept all weekend. Even at home."

"We both needed to be in today."

"For once, I really don't care. We had a long weekend. I want to be with you."

He kissed my shoulder and then my neck. "I like the sound of that." He kissed my jaw, and then just below my ear.