Not a Typical Princess (Princess Diana's Daughter)

Chapter 7: Happy Night, Happy Life

Charles argued that Gwendoline should stay a few days to recover. She insisted that she was fine. Harry and William wanted her to stay longer as well, which the Duchess of Cambridge and Meghan Markle added on too. Gwendoline stated that she had to go back to university. She had a lot of homework to catch up on, and her professors weren't going to let her off that easily.

"You're a princess," Harry said, "and you beat up, like, five terrorists. They can give you a break."

"University doesn't work like that, Harry, but then again, you wouldn't know," Gwendoline replied quickly.

Harry stuck out his tongue, as if he was a child again.

The flight was short, but the drive felt like forever. A police car was waiting outside the princess' flat just in case, but the princess knew nothing would. She was annoyed by it more than anything else. She already had her security coming back with her, but at least she made him sleep somewhere else. It wasn't a doubt that he knew her secret, as many people within the monarchy did, but she preferred to keep it on the down low.

Margo was waiting in the flat when Gwen returned, and her face looked to have aged in three days since they parted. Margo wiped the tears from her face and kept her distance. Gwen dropped her bags and closed the door. The lock slipped into place.

"Oh, thank God." Margo ran over to Gwen, slamming her lips into Gwen's. Her lips tasted like salt and strawberries. Her kisses her hungry and nervous. Gwen kissed her girlfriend back. Margo reached around, careful of Gwen's back. "I was so worried."

"I told you I was fine."

"You say that all time. Sorry if I don't believe you." Margo went into the kitchen. "Let me make you dinner. I got your favorite take away. We have poutine tonight, and I got you Turkish Delight. I even got you the good beer that you like," she was rambling again.

Gwen followed her girlfriend into the kitchen and then leaned against the doorframe with her good arm. "I'm good, Go-Go. I'm good."

"I know," Margo said, looking up. "Just let me do this for you, okay?"

Gwen nodded and moved out of the way.

Margo grabbed the supplies from the fridge and started to heat them up in the microwave. She put the Turkish Delight out, and Gwen immediately reached for a piece. She swatted the hand away. "You'll ruin dinner."

"If you want it so badly, you'll have to come get it." Gwen popped the piece of Turkish Delight in her mouth and then licked her lips.

"You are a horrible influence," Margo stated.

"Yes. What's the problem with that?" She kept that piece of candy on her tongue.

"I could just let you eat it."

"What fun would that be?"

"You wouldn't choke." Sometimes Margo's Scottish accent was so strong that Gwen had no idea what she said, but she took a gamble with her next words.

"Don't be such a worrier."

"It's one of my largest traits," Margo sighed.

"So is procrastination." Gwen wiggled her tongue again, and Margo couldn't hold out any longer. She came rushing over, and Gwen tried desperately to escape. But the small Margo, at least seven inches smaller than her counterpart, managed to gain the upperhand. Gwen chewed and slowed it. "Too late," she said.

"Do you want to try again?" Margo asked.

Gwen sniffed the air. "I think the poutine is burning."