His Little Heir

Macaroni Bones

     Daya finished the last of her eye makeup and leaned back in the ebony chair to marvel her work. A dusty rose defined her crease, with crimson overlayed in yellow gold bridging the gap to the bottom of her lid.

     The wings that Leon had insisted she'd fly away with sprouted like those of a slightly, okay, heavily phycologicly damgaged eagle that had recently found himself in the wrong hemisphere during spring.

     Yikes.

      But in all their dopey disaster, they rested upon her lash line evenly. At least there was that. And resolving herself to the fate of that directionally challenged eagle, she let the setting spray fall.

     Daya glanced at her phones clock: 8:12, earlier than what she expected. She collected her things and headed to the foyer; there was no harm at all in last minute preparations and checks- a lesson her mother had taught her well.

     Her golden heels clacked against the marbel. Waiting at the bottom to meet her was Jeana, smiling as her eyes met Daya's. She pushed forwards, waiting to hear the final click that would signify that she was safely down the stairs.

     It never came.

     Instead of marble slab, her heel met lace lining. She braced herself. Squinting with her arms spread, Daya gritted her teeth with rabid defiance as it caught, dragging her down.

     But like the heel, she and the marble never collided.

     Net like arms encircled her like a bountiful catch. Daya was instantly pulled from the brink, their owner balancing her with a feather touch.

    An unfamiliar feather touch.

     Daya tore her eyes away from the floor, expecting to see Leon grinning from the side of his mouth, as he would have quite the spill to deliver to her on her clumsiness. Her brown disks met ocean pools.

      Not emeralds.

     "Q-Quill?!" She stepped away from him, grinning, "God, why am I always falling around you?"

     "I have to go, princess. Don't tell Leon you, ah, saw me. Okay?" He turned away and descended the final step.

     "Wait, where're you going?!"
    
     "Away."

      "What do you mean 'away'?", she made quotes with her fingers, mocking him, "You just got back!"

    Quill turned to face her with a furrowed brow, "What do you mean I just got back? I've been here since you woke up- are you feeling alright, Princess Daya?'

      Feeling alright? No, Daya did a mental check, she was perfectly fine. How had he been here for the past two weeks and she not know? Quill had come up multiple times in her and Leon's conversations, so why avoid telling her that he had come back?

     "I'm okay, and please, you can still call me Daya. Gets annoying being all formal."

     "Can't do that, princess."

     "And why not? Did I do something to offend you, Quill? If I did-"

     He motioned for her to join him in the foyer, "No! You did nothing wrong, really, between you and me, I'll lose my job. Actually, I still shouldn't even be talking to you! So um, um... goodbye!"

     Quill sped down the corridor as her next words died on her lips. Catching up to him would be a game of coyote and road runner, a game impossible for Daya to win. With a defeated groan, she slumped against one of the columns.