Death of a Prince | ✓

EPILOGUE: I

EPILOGUE

'I'

"DAD SAID I should make a book out of this. Of my life experience like an autobiography and turn it fantastical enough to become a fiction series." I said this with a snort and a roll of my eyes, but Leon turned to me with a gleam in his gaze. "No, I will not."

His smile didn't dampen in the slightest, knotting our fingers together and holding it close to his chest. "But it'd be like the Sherlock Holmes series, darling. Imagine that."

"I can and no." I giggled, closing my eyes and letting the last breath of the summer afternoon warm my face and rustle my hair. "I'm not good with words. Also, I'm not even as a half as interesting as Sherlock bloody Holmes."

"I would argue but you'd snort." I nodded my agreement, eyes still closed. He shuffled in the grass until I could feel his warm breath tickling my ear as he kissed the side of my face. I shivered. "But I can astutely, confidently, wonderfully say that he's not even a shred of a nail cutting as pretty as you are."

"Woe thy words," I murmured, laughing as I turned my head to kiss his nose. He fell back in laughter. "You should write instead, you bloody poet. You'd do wonders creating a series out of it."

A hint of mischief in his eye. "Only if it's in your point of view. Today, my crush with this wonderful smile came by again. Drop dead handsome, aloof, mysterious Leon—"

I pushed him, both of us falling into peels of laughter. As the noise of the forest around us regained its strength again, I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay in the sun a little longer, stay in the breeze, in the shade; in the peace and quiet. The scene was too perfect to ruin, but we had obligations.

"We should— "

"I— "

We both stopped, chuckling. I tilted my chin and inhaled the fresh air with my eyes still closed. "You first."

"Ladies always go first," he countered.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. We should go visit him now. Make sure he's alright."

"I thought Quinn went to visit?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Alright, scratch that. Make sure he's not ready to shoot his big toe off."

He exhaled out a laugh. Then groaned as he stood up slowly, brushing off the grass that found its way on his pants. He offered his hand once he was sure he was clean.

I took it and fixed my dress and hair. Leon packed up the blanket to his arm while I took the basket. We started walking back to his house, his castle, this prince of mine, swinging our hands together like children on a school pen.

"What were you going to say?" I asked.

"Hm?"

"Before I interrupted?"

Another wicked grin. "I was going to say 'I have grass up my arse'."

I took my hand back and pushed him, bursting out in another pile of laughter. He plucked out a flower when he got back to me, a daisy, small and careful, and tucked it between my curls.

We were going to be okay. I could feel it in my bones. In my heavy, filled heart.

He walked back beside me, stopping us just so he could kiss me again. My eyes closed with automatic response and pulled him close. There's been a lot of these too.