Alexandria was only ever meant to be a princess. A scandalous socialite to grace the covers of gossip magazines and twitters trending page.
When her older brother tragically dies in a suicide, Alexa suddenly becomes the next heir to the English thr...
"Loving you was the most exquisite form of self-destruction." -unknown ♛•♛•♛
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I went riding with James in the early morning. Like always, it rained the night before, so the air was thick and cloudy. Fog hovered over the tall willowing grass of Kensington's gardens, and the smell of sodden, damp wood filled my nostrils as I climbed over a fence, Dorian and Jame's horse, Apollo, watched, obediently tied to a post. Dorian gave me a final rumbling neigh, as my boots came in contact with squelching mud, and I followed James down a path.
"Come on." James chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he looked back.
"I'm sorry." I panted, throwing my arms around his shoulders once I finally caught up. "Jumping over fences isn't something I do often."
He let out a muffled laugh as we stumbled through the wet earth and towards an abandoned hunting cabin we'd discovered as children.
The door swung open with a creak, and I was overwhelmed by the smell of rotting wood and dust. But as dingey as this small space was, it had also become a kind home to us.
Old black soot lingered around a crumbling brick fireplace and James instantly bent down to start a fire in the hearth. I watched, rubbing warmth into my shivering arms. English mornings were brutal.
The hunting cabin was tiny. There was a weathered wooden table, with a single chair tucked into it in the corner. It's waxy exterior had dulled with age, and a groove had been worn into the sole of the seat from decades of usage.
Last year the two of us cleaned out the spiderwebs that invaded every nook and cranny. We even laid down an old mattress and covered it with flannel blankets. I sat down on the bed, and I was greeted by a puff of dust. It had been long since anyone tended to this cabin.
A warmth filled the room as James finally started a fire, and he turned to me, rubbing off his hands along his trousers.
"Do you remember when we got caught in a storm, and we spent the entire night here." I remembered, my eyes unfocused.
"How could I ever forget. We were terrified. I was convinced this bloody cabin would collapse. But she survived didn't she." James moved to stand over me, and he gently grazed my cheek with his fingers. I closed my eyes and rested my head against his hand, and though I couldn't see his expression change, I could feel his mood shift as he tenderly pulled me closer. I buried my face into his shirt and let my hands move to his waist and than slip into waistband of his pants.
James sighed, "Alf-" He shifted away from my touch.
I looked up disappointed.
"Something's bothering you, and I want you to talk to me. Not use me as a distraction."
I closed my eyes with a frustrated shake of my head and James sat down beside me. He attempted to coax me out of my shell by kissing my neck softly. Than he whispered his breath soft against my skin, "You can tell me. Please."
