His Little Heir

Permission to Slap

  Before she even had time to process what had happened, he was in front of Daya and grabbing her free hand.
     
     She clutched the rings in her other to the point where her peach knuckes turned white as Leon led her through the castle's winding halls. Where he was taking her, she didn't care.

     As long as it was away from the kitchen.

     By ascending white marble stairs and taking a left, Daya was greeted by his bedroom door. She had only ventured to the room on the opposite fork of her own once before, but had only seen the inside briefly before he had shoved her away, citing its messyness.

     But now, she stood in the darkness of it all. The walls were the same hunting green as his shirt; the floor an imitation of the kitchen's dark oak.

     His room could not go without gold like all the others. And the more Daya looked, the more it overtook her in snide shimmers.

     She expected Leon to guide her to his black and gold bedsheets. Instead, he stepped to the room's edge, and pulled back an ebony curtian.

     A glass door.

     On the other side was a balcony swept up in the most brilliant night sky she had ever seen.

     Daya, caught of guard, didn't allow her sorrows to devour wonder, "It's-"

     "Beautiful, I know,"Leon slid open the glass door, and positioned his free hand on her back, gently pushing her through.

     He emerged on the glass's reverse along side her and shut the door. In the star's light, Leon's eyes twinkled to reveal shavings of teal and brown. Before Daya could examine them further, his image grew glossy and wet.

     His silhouette moved towards her, growing progressively vague as she fought back her eyes teary agenda. In an instant, it was kneeling next to her wiping away the battles' causlities with his thumb.

     Like Austin did.

     "Shhhh, hey.", Leon's soothing voice  quieted and comforted as it did in the barn, "We're almost there. Almost there, okay?"

     His statement snapped her distorted attention into place, "Almost where?"

     He shook his head and stood up. In the corner of the balcony was what looked to be a stained book case, but effortlessly, Leon pushed it aside to reveal a silver, rusting ladder.

     "Come on, love. I'll help you up."

     He extended his hand for Daya to take.

     "It's- well," she blew air from her nose in amusement, "It's just a ladder, Leon."

     "And? It's pretty old, and if something happened-"

     "Alright, tough guy, I'm coming." She attempted to enclose his hand in hers, but the size difference made the feat impossible.

     The rungs of the ladder were indeed, cold, but to her relief, not entirely rickety or slick. Daya turned to the ladder's base to find Leon holding it steady. Carefully, she glued her attention to the remaining rungs, counting them as she went.

     Five.

     Four.

     Three.

     Two...

     One?

     At the top lay what she could only describe as a overgrown slumber party. Blankets, pillows, and plushy chairs dominated the space, with candles set about the roof for light. It was like watching her childhood dreams play out, only now they were grown up.