His Little Heir

Hangnails!

    Leon squeezed the bridge of his nose and sighed looking down at her. A racoonish smear had began to overtake the skin surrounding Daya's eyes, and on any other occasion, he would've taken the opportunity to tease her about it.

But now wasn't the time.

     She struggled to keep a tame face as the silence between them thickened; neither said nothing. Time and time again, he saw the plaster smile crest and crash against her lips, disappearing each time her resolve ran thin. Leon's fingers ached to cup her face, and his arms begged to hold her. Yet, he stayed still.

The burn in his chest was stronger.

    Daya looked down at the floor, repeating her signature nail biting as she did. She was nervous, but not the kind born of awkwardness or missteps; this was guilt.

     She still loved Austin, and as much as it pained him to admit it, he couldn't exactly blame her. Their breakup came more sudden than school at the end of summer, and in that same sense, awarded itself a choppy ending. No closure was scrawled on the last page of their love. Thus, leaving Daya to piece the tattered paper together.

     Yet again, she had every chance to leave if she wanted. The thought of keeping her here like a caged swan crossed Leon's mind multiple times. A beautiful splendor soley his in all her glory, never leaving his side- just the idea of it sent him gushing. But, she wouldn't be happy. He knew it, she knew it, so why did she stay?

     The dizzying headache he had encountered upon awakening returned. Leon pushed the complex thoughts away while rubbing his forehead; they didn't matter.

     What did matter was that for a brief moment, Daya weighed the consequences of leaving, and determined that it was worth it even after she said she loved him. Her heart had plowed two plots; it could only plant a seed in one, and for a split second, it chose Austin.

    It chose to leave him.

     "I-I'm sorry." Daya was the first to speak.

     "No, you're not." Leon pressed his lips together, "Pack your bags if you wanna leave so badly. I'm too hungover to deal with this."

      "Dad wanted to-"

     "I don't care who started it, Daya, just, leave or leave me alone. I've got a headache."

     He backed away from the door and let her wilting form pass through it. Her eyes searched for a place to go, but it found none; her room was too close to him, and her father's was a threshold she wouldn't dare to cross. Daya froze in the foyer.

      Her body drooped further as she set out on a seemingly random path, dragging her feet down the northern hall. Leon debated giving her directions to, well, where ever the hell she was going, but clamped his mouth shut and walked up the halway stairs.

      He leaned against his bedroom's door frame lost to his thoughts. What was Don asking her to take back? All he remembered was waking up on the floor next to a hole in the wall, and stumbling into a thunderstorm of cracking voices.

     Leon's head hammered to scold him- too much thinking. He stretched out his hand to catch the broken concepts one last time, but each fragment fell just out of his reach. Defeated, he retraced his steps and then some, sinking into his cashmere sheets.

    He closed his eyes and opened his arms; they were empty, for Leon had hurt the woman he loved.

     And she had hurt him right back.

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      Daya groaned at the sight of the tailor's door. She had just made her fifth wrong turn, and making a sixth would prove devastating. Maybe she should just go back to the lounge and stay there a while, or at least, until she looked presentable.

     Footsteps ripped her from her revere; they were heavy and spread out, most likely a man's. Daya turned her face to the workshop's door and held her breath, hoping who ever it was would just pass by. The footsteps stopped in front of her, and nipped the floorboards due to their owner's weight. The steps continued; their tread, however, warranted a more muffled volume similar to fluffy cream.

    bAn arm reached for her shoulder. Daya tried to scream, but her cry was shrouded by the hoarseness in her voice.

      The man backed away from her in a panic, frantically shaking his head, "Daya, it's... it's me! I didn't mean to-

     "Quill?" She squinted as his blue eyes became piercing in the dim hall, "What are you doing here?"

     "I'd ask you the same thing, umm, you're a little- you seem lost."

     She glanced at the floor. He hadn't noted her appearance yet, and she sure wasn't going to take the chance. Daya tried to drum up an answer- think, think, think. Should she even bother telling him?

     "I'm... looking for the gardens." She scratched the back of her neck and prayed Quill hadn't noticed the hesitance in her voice.

      He whistled, "Well I hate to tell you this, but you kinda um, passed them up about seven thousand square feet ago. I-I can show you the way if you want?"

     Daya pondered his question; would guards report seeing them together to Leon? Did it even matter now, or was she in enough trouble with her fiance' already? Her nails again became the ripened center to harbor the pain of her battling thoughts nevertheless.

    b Quill shook his head at her, "You're gonna get, ah, what do you call them, hang nails! Yes! You're getting hangnails! Only if you- only if you don't stop that I mean."

     "Thanks, but, I don't want you to, you know.." She let her voice trail off.

      "Get in trouble?"

      Daya nodded. They stood in silence, neither willing to speak. She wondered if he knew about the night before; at least the nail marks on her cheeks had started to fade. Her wrist wasn't so lucky, for without ice or makeup, it essentially became dead weight.

A painful dead weight.

     Quill cleared his throat, breaking the silence. He stroked the ginger snap stubble that had gathered on his chin and looked down at her once more, "Well, um, actually, to tell you the truth, I kinda.. met someone. I don't know if that would make a difference to him, but, I-I'd figured that.. offering would be um- nice."

     "Oh, what the heck?! It's not like I have anything better to do- tell me everything." Daya met him with a smile to mirror his.

     And off they went, walking the twisted road to winding groves together.

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     Hey guys! Sorry for not posting much; I got a huge project with absolutely no notice beforehand, so I've been struggling with that. I'm still only halfway done, but I had enough time to post.

     Anyway, if you're here, thank you so much! It's almost been a year since the story has been out and time flies. 💜 Thanks for sticking around!