𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 «« Matthew Gray Gubler.

0.8

A Tale of Two Brothers.

27th of June, 2010.

Los Angeles - Matthew Gray Gubler's Residence.

With a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist and her body bare under the covers, Coraline woke due to the intrusive light peaking through the window of Matthew's bedroom. Her eyes fluttering open, she stirred, careful not to wake the beautiful man beside her.

Beside her. Naked, under the sheets.

Everything hit her all at once. An antsy drive back to the 'haunted' tree house, stumbling up the threshold, lips connected in passionate kissing and low giggles barely heard. The soft squeaking of the bed when Coraline's tiny frame was thrown onto it, the adoration in Matthew's eyes. The soft moans and heavy breaths.

He'd made her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Like a princess.

Coraline turned over, the man that'd been occupying her thoughts for months finally in view. Her lips curled into an involuntary smile as her finger delicately traced his features. His temple, down to his cheekbone, down to his jawline. 

He groaned, leg hooking around hers in an attempt to bring her closer and she complied, shuffling as close as humanly possible. "Good morning." She whispered.

"Am I dead? This kinda feels like heaven." She suppressed a laugh, resting her hand on his cheek as she spoke.

"No, darling. You're not dead."

Matthew let out a content sigh. "Thank god. Though I think you will be the death of me." Coraline almost rolled her eyes, grabbing his jumper from the ground and throwing it on, escaping from his grasp. "Don't leave." He whined, making grabby hands.

She leaned down, her lips almost touching his. He took the bait, leaning in to meet halfway but meeting the air instead. She'd pulled away and disappeared. "Sorry, love. We've got the whole day to laze around." She called from the bathroom.

"You're mean."

Ჲ

London. Apartment 9, Kensington Palace - Prince Harry's Residence.

Harry and William both sat on separate sofas, cold beers in hand as they silently stare at the muted TV, hoping to find some topic of interest on the screen. 

"Do you think it's our fault she left?" Harry broke the silence, his eyes still trained on the TV.

William looked at his brother, brows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I think she knows that you proposing to Kate will happen soon. You've been together for 7 years already. She probably knows that you're going to ask her for the ring." He spoke, head down as if he were ashamed to be sharing a secret which wasn't really a secret, more unspoken.

"So?"

The carelessness of his brother's response set a flame in Harry. "I think we both know she won't fully deal with Mum's death. And you're taking her ring away, then you'll take her flat away for you and Kate to live in. What next? Are you going to ask Kate to wear Mum's dress and take that away from her, too? All the jewellery, the tiaras, the clothes, it's all rightfully Cora's. And you're just taking it."

The older prince scoffed, shaking his head. "Cora's fine with it."

"She's not! If you'd actually look at her for once you'd notice she isn't! Have you ever actually cared for her? Let's go all the way back. You barely spoke to her when mum died. You took MI6 away. When dad got remarried, you never asked her how she felt. When that scumbag Aaron kept cheating on her over and over, you didn't care! Because William comes first! William is going to be king!"