the prince and the peasant | skephalo | DISCONTINUED

numbness

~Darryl's POV~

It felt dumb. Very dumb.

Sitting there, having nothing to do except silently sulk. I try to look anywhere, anywhere but there. Distraction was the best option. I try to think, think of everything, anything to get my mind off of it. But at the same time, my head was trying to clear. The diversion of wanting to think of everything and nothing caused an aching headache and soreness in my throat.

Liquid - I needed any type of liquid that would help sustain consciousness. It was clear that my stress wouldn't cause anything like fainting, but I still needed something to at least convince me that my heart wasn't about to be crushed.

There was a weighing feeling as I sat up, moving and walking to the food table and pouring myself a cup of punch. My arm moved slowly, scooping a generous amount of punch and shakily moving my hand back down to let go of the serving spoon. The notes of the piano slow and I take this as a bad thing. I sip at my cup, leaning in closer to the table, hand on the surface and facing the food. I let out a small gasp of relief as my lips separate from the red plastic.

I feel as if I'm being watched. Someone, maybe one of the girls, or their parents, or the king or queen, or even maybe Zak, was watching. Because of this, my motions are a lot more animated and thought out. I don't feel done at the food table. I wanted to stall out my time there as long as possible. Straightening napkins, taking samples of crackers and leaning in, towering over certain foods to closer inspect.

I fear that the king and queen are watching me, even if I needed a distraction, it was unclear if I was even allowed to be partaking in any of the arrangements. Plus, the time I was spending at the table was abnormal. I tried my best to keep casual, a hand in a pocket and the other reaching out, doing whatever could keep my mind off of the sight.

A good distraction - other friends - Vincent! I wonder what he's up to. I wonder if this is how he felt when I told him I didn't love him? I hope not. This sucks.

I sigh, bringing the cup back to my parted lips, but the juice in my cup and I suddenly jolt when I feel a hand on my shoulders. The juice in my cup swirl around, only a drop reaching out and landing a light red stain on the collar of my shirt. There's new-formed bubbles in the juice, but they're now swaying back in forth in the cup, slowly turning still. I turn, and see Zak. Sweat beading on his forehead, hair damped from sweat, and a huge smile spread across his face.

"Hello," I say, sounding confused.

"Hi," his voice is rather soft, gentle enough to make my heart flutter and feel an unusual bolt of joy and pleasure from my chest.

His hand moves off of my shoulder, returning back to his sides. I move with him, returning back to my seat and him sitting next to me. He's clearly dazed, something that made me feel indifferently. "So," I'm afraid to ask, but I do. "How was it?"

My heart sinks as I hear the words: "A lot better than I thought it'd be," he smiles, the genuineness in his words making causes my heart to crack.

I turn away from his face, he wasn't looking at me anyways. He was happy. I should be happy to. My muscles stretch out, plastering another weak smile across my face. "That's good. That's great to hear," my voice is clearly shaking but he doesn't seem to pick it up.

I look back only to see that his smile never fades away, my heart aching more and more onto why. "Yeah," his voice still fonding over that look-a-like girl. Upsetting.

I try to track his gaze and see it staring off back to her. I hated this. This - the ache in my heart, my heart throbbing out of my chest from both anxiousness and the fluttering feeling Zak made me feel. My chest was tight, trying it's best to keep breathing steady.

At the moment, I was still profusely sweating. The thing I hated most was that he wouldn't even acknowledge my discomfort. I wish this didn't go to plan. I wish all his worries came true. Still, it all felt very selfish.

"So, are you actually, like, enjoying this?" my words stumble over each other, but it seemed like everything I did went unnoticed.

He nods, now looking over at me. I thought it wasn't possible, but his smile gets even wider. "Yeah," my smile couldn't last. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. It all felt very dumb, but I knew I still had to at least try to be supportive. He was happy and that's what I wanted. "Maybe you were right," words I never knew could hurt so much. "This wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be."

My mouth closes, and I break the stare, facing forward and taking another sip. There's no more words I feel to voice, so instead I just blankly nod.

I have an itching question that I need an answer to, so I force out my voice, knowing it'll be hard to control the shakes and cracks of it. "Do you see yourself marrying her?" I ask, my voice, as expected, the total opposite of steady. I want to see him, look at his face, but I can't. It was humiliating. I couldn't tell if I should blink or keep my eyes as long as possible to help contain tears.

"Are you okay?" he asks instead of answering, I lean further into my seat, scared that he'd be able to see my face. My arms were weak, barely able to support my balance.

I nod, hoping my hair is long enough for my face not to be seen. I sense him. He gets up and brushes his fingers past my back. "I probably need to go now," he sighs. "And, I think I'm fine on my own now. You could go home now if you'd like."

And just like that, he smiles and walks away.

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Thank you for reading part 25 :)

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