All I Have

Chapter 10 ~ A Bag is a Terrible Place for a Cat.

'Well aren't the pair of you a sight for sore eyes?'

I blink myself awake to see my grandfather standing over me, arms folded across his chest and a wide grin on his face. He's changed out of his comfy winter jumper and is now wearing his smarty pants clothes, pinned with all of his medals and a crown on his head.

'I forgot about the tiaras.' I chuckle and stretch, my muscles tired from my nap.

'It's a crown actually, it's much more manly.' My grandfather smiles pointing to the side of me, 'Quiet, you'll wake your sleeping buddy.'

I move my head to find Asher curled up in the armchair that he's pulled beside my bed. I didn't notice him before given his quiet breathing, but he looks cosy despite his suit. The book is abandoned on his lap and his glasses have fallen onto his stomach.

'I'll be back in a few minutes with your grandmother,' My grandfather grins, raising an eyebrow, 'If there's anything between the two of you, I suggest you work a little harder to cover it up. You know how your grandmother is about gossip, the kingdom will hear about your new relationship before you have yourself.'

'There's no relationship!' I hiss as he turns on his heel.

'Alice in Wonderland?' He says, pointing to the sleeping boy and the book on his lap, 'Everyone in this palace knows it's your favourite fairytale. It's not in your file Marzia, so how do you think he came to his book choice?'

'He asked.' I whisper my guess, looking over at him confused.

'Humphrey made a trip to the library before bringing Asher to his room, take that how you will.' He tells me, gently padding across the floor to the door, 'I'm back in five, my darling.'

I don't know how Asher subconsciously knew that this bed would make me uncomfortable, but with the overhanging exhaustion gone, the feeling of dread finally creeps into my bones. I remember my twelve year old self having to wear socks to bed in the silk sheets because they never felt right on my skin. Every time I would come home, after a meeting away in another country, or one of the many extended hospital visits or captures, my bed was always the one thing I couldn't stand.

Luckily, because I was so small, I could usually ask mum and dad if I could join them, and towards the end, I'd tuck in with my brothers, considering mum wouldn't let me in her room anymore once she'd met Lars. It would take me months before my bed felt welcoming again and those months in between were filled with panic and the most intense, gripping fear of nighttime.

When I spent five months in the hospital after the explosion that hurt my back, it took me almost half a year to be able to settle back into my bedroom again. I don't know how many months it might take me after six years.

I roll over so that I'm on my stomach, facing Asher. He's still dozing, shown in the soft rise and fall of his chest. I lift a hand and gently put it on his shoulder, shaking him as nicely as I can. He doesn't even flinch.

'Ash.' I mutter.

The noise rouses him slightly but the only movement he makes is in his arm. Instead of loosening his muscles to wake him up, they tighten as if he's scared. I inch closer so that my face is level to his, trying to find a way to wake him up without scaring him. I'm so close by now that I'm almost on top of him, and my nose bumps gently against his for a second when I shake him again.

I could kiss him.

Wait, what?

I won't, I wouldn't, and I'm not going to, but it runs through my mind for a second that I'm close enough. I've never been this close to him before, not even in his bedroom before Miss Van Doren walked in. His body is radiating heat onto me and the sensation of his breath on my face is numbing. His aftershave is still present in the air even though he applied it many hours ago.