I'm No Cinderella
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- Votes 11
- Parts 10
Ongoing34m
Last published Thu, Sep 12, 2013
He smirked down at me with that suffocating intense look deep in those dark brown eyes of his. "You're too sweet, Princess." I scowled, turning my head away from him as he started to lean in just a bit closer. "Don't call me Princess, James." His smirk widened as his fingers took my chin and gently tilted it back up until I met his gaze again. "Why not? You're MY Princess.." I felt my rage slice through me as I narrowed my eyes. I spoke calmly but lowly, hoping he would hear the venom dripping off of my tongue from my tone. "First off, I am not ANYONE's Princess, especially not YOURS. You do not own me. You never have, and you never will. Second, JAMES, you need to BACK THE HELL UP. I can't breathe whenever your calogne is trying to shove its way down my throat and suffocate me." I shoved him back roughly as I said this. He stumbled back, surprised, but caught himself as he leaned on the wall for support. "And last, I'm no Cinderella. So don't try to be my Prince Charming and come to rescue me. I don't NEED rescuing. I can break out of my tower of hell alone, thank you." I huffed before grabbing my bag and walking away. Oh yeah, I showed him.
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Jasper stiffens in his seat as I press the metal of the blade against his back. "Don't say a word. Come with me, right now." Of course, he doesn't listen. I had hoped a dagger to the kidney would be incentive enough, but even the threat of death doesn't graze a Devereaux ego. He turns toward me to argue, facing away from the goon that's been eyeing him across the bar. I doubt he even noticed. The man whispers something to his sketchy friend, pointing at Jasper. No time for discussion. I grab his arm and press the tip of the knife harder, just barely breaking the skin. He winces, realizing I mean business, and gets up. The idiot prince seems to finally get the memo, running alongside me until we're a safe distance away. "What the hell was that about?" his ragged breaths take the sting out of his words. I've never seen him like this before. Cheeks red, chest heaving, hunched over himself on the stump of a tree. For once, he looks like an authentic person. Of course, this is merely an illusion. Jasper Devereaux is an arrogant, entitled dirtbag, nothing more. I can't believe I just jeopardized my favorite trade spot for him. He demands to know why I pulled a knife on him instead of just telling him he was in danger. I explain to him that the reason for the dagger was glaringly obvious if you consider the way he acted when I did use it. If he was willing to argue with a blade against his skin, there is no way he'd have left that place in good hands if I hadn't forced him to. I can't help but laugh at the audacity of him to be angry with me for how I chose to save his life. "You really haven't changed." His head snaps up at this, and I see his eyes searching my face. Of course he doesn't recognize me. For me, it was super traumatic. For him, it was just another day. "What are you going on about?" "This isn't the kingdom, Jasper, these peasants aren't at your mercy." I see the blood drain from his face, and recognition clicks in his eyes.
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