It is currently half past 12, on a cold Thursday evening. It is midnight.
Michael: in the kitchen getting a glass of water
Oriana: laying in bed, watching television.
"Michael!" Oriana shouted.
"Yes, M'lady!" He shouted back.
"Michael!" Oriana shouted once more.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"Where are you?" She sang.
"I'm in the kitchen getting a glass of water. Do you need anything your Highness?"
"I do actually. Come hither."
Michael rushed to the bedroom.
"Yes? What do you need?"
"Come, let me whisper it to your ear."
"O-ok." Michael got closer.
"I need a glass of water." Oriana whispered, giggling.
"You could've told me a second ago!" He exclaimed in anger.
Oriana placed her finger on his lips. "Do as I say and I'll give you a gift. A present."
"A present? You never give me—"
"Shh." She winked.
"I uh.. I think I got an idea, your Highness." Michael said shyly.
YOU ARE READING
hiddenfeelings
Short StoryA book filled with made up scenarios that derives from things I see, things I feel emotionally and mentally. Including poems? Maybe. Very rare though. But, Enjoy.
