The Lonely King | Ongoing [New Edition]

19 | Bruises and Soup

"Singing from heartache from the pain,

Taking my message from the veins,

Speaking my lesson from the brain,

Seeing the beauty through the pain."

❁❁❁

THE PERSISTENT KNOCKING from outside woke me up from my sleep. Groggily, I looked at the digital clock by my bed. Who the hell could be outside at 11:38PM?

"Open the damn door, Alexandra."

At the sound of his familiar grumpy voice, I sat up straighter.

What was Robin Clair doing outside my dorm?

"If you don't open up, I'm barging in!" he warned, his cold and serious voice gave me the impression that he wasn't joking. Realizing the state that I was in, I started to panic.

"Hold up one second!" I hollered, scrambling out of my bed and putting on a pair of sweatpants. I fell asleep after calling the office and haven't woken up since. Napping the entire day away seemed like a good idea at first, but now my muscles protested the sudden physical activity. I threw on my trusty grey hoodie, putting the hood up and letting my dark hair fall across my face to cover up the nasty bruise on my cheek.

What could he possibly want? I wondered as he continued to knock incessantly on my door.

Cautiously approaching the dorm door, fiddling with my fingers nervously, I peered through the peephole. Just to make sure it was him. When his familiar honey-blonde hair came into view, I sucked in a breath and opened the door.

"Fantastic. I'm a hundred years old now," Robin drawled impatiently, rolling his eyes. He gestured for me to let him in, which I reluctantly did. He didn't waste any time in entering my room as if he owned the place, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on my coat rack. I bit my lip unconsciously, wincing at the state of my messy dorm room.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, not feeling sorry about how rude I sounded.

"I heard that you're down with the flu," Robin said, as if it explained everything.

"So?"

"So, you ungrateful wench, I brought some soup. I didn't see you come down for dinner," Robin said, lifting a metal canister out from a paper bag I failed to notice he was carrying when he first came in.

"That's...nice of you," I managed to say, pursing my lips in slight confusion. Why is he being so nice to me? It was unlike him to show even a sliver of concern for anyone else.

"I didn't want the poor maids to find your rotting body up here," Robin shrugged in response. I rolled my eyes, but a small smile made its way onto my lips nonetheless.

"You don't sound very sick to me," he pointed out, eyeing me suspiciously. I ducked my head down immediately, letting my hair cover my face.

"Well, I am. Nasty stuff, achoo. I really appreciate you bringing the soup over, but you need to leave now. I don't want to pass the flu to you," I said a little too quickly, walking to the door and opening it for him.

Robin only raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he asked, clearly unimpressed by my act.

"Yes," I insisted. He crossed his arms and eyed me under his narrowed gaze.