Scenario 2#

He opened the heavy, 19th-century-style door to find her hastily sweeping her hands over her eyes.

“Eugenia?”

She quickly minimized the window, then turned and smiled at him. The perfect royal smile a princess like her does and should always have.

“Eriol.”

He bypassed his fiancée and approached her laptop. A look at her Facebook page, then another look at her. Still that infuriating professional smile.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m OK” came the answer, and he regretted asking that question instantly. He should have been more specific. Or rather, he should not have asked anything at all.

The red hue around her eyes only intensified as he embraced her, then melted into pearly drops of tears. How foolish, my lady. What makes you think you could handle all this alone without telling anyone?

He patted and gently squeezed her shoulders, listened to her barely comprehensible sobs: “That… that was… only… a small ribbon. Even grandma… didn’t say anything..”

He closed his eyes in exasperation. Those devils called the tabloids and their avid followers called the public… How has a red ribbon on the sleeve of her black dress got anything to do with “disrespect for the deceased Nelson Mandela”? Must be something forever beyond his understanding as a boy.

She would have gone on wetting his shirt (how did it get drenched so fast is, again, something beyond his understanding) had he not graced her cheeks with some tissue paper. He did not conceal a sigh:

“If this is you girls’ definition of “OK”, then… can I say that life sucks for all of you?”

Wiping her tears, tidying her hair, searching for her eyes, soothing her heart…

“Listen, I may be too young to understand all that stuff, but I’ll always have tissue paper in my bag. So next time, please don’t show me this face and say that you’re OK.”

Then… make her smile.

“OK?”

A gleam of light, her rosy lips seemed to shine.

“OK”

It is only the least he can do for her as her betrothed, isn’t it?

“You should rest well. You have a presentation tomorrow at the university, right? And you cannot afford to miss the lectures.”

“I know… But you don’t look too well these days either.” Her eyes suddenly turned cold. “Don’t tell me you’re already studying for the GCSE. It’s not even next year yet.” 

“Wha… now why must I do that?”

“I can tell how much of a bookworm you are. Go have some rest yourself.”

 “As you wish, my lady.” His mocking deep bow incited some giggles, the clear, joyful sound of bells that made him smile as he closed the door.

Now…

Math homework,

Science project,

Art deadline,

Karate club meeting tomorrow,

.

.

.

Ahh… Life can be so difficult for a boy like him…

 

Endnote: I hope you get it =))

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