Infatuation (King George III xreader)

~21~ Shaken up stargazing

*Edited: 3-15-2022*
Word count: 3174

I fidget in my seat - trying to wrap my mind around how less than an hour ago I was pressed against a bookshelf, trapped while being told off and given rules like a child would after breaking a neighbor's window or flower pot - staring at a pair of eyes so intense they could shatter obsidian into pieces. To sitting outside at a white clothed table peppered with different sized plates of small cakes, pastries, sandwiches, berries, and other small treats.
A tea set also accompanied the table's top; small cups, a sugar bowl, and other delicate pieces of fine china laying spread across it - sitting next to the same man that had me pinned in place and frightened me with his eyes, touch, and words.

I sat in the back garden, in an elegant white chair, my hands in my lap as I nervously played with my fingers - my gaze drawn to the cup of golden hued tea that sat in front of me.

"Love~" his sweet, velvety voice chimes - snapping me out of my thoughts and my only response was a small breath. His hand grazes my hair, teasing out the curled strands and playing with the few flowers that peppered it.
"You haven't touched your food, my dear. Or your tea."

"I'm not hungry..." my words were soft and George dryly chuckles.

"Now love, I haven't seen you eat much all day. Surely you must be a little hungry." He says sweetly and I hesitantly shake my head, my fingers playing with the fabric of my dark green dress. George moves his hand, placing it over mine and his touch was warm.
"Will you eat for me?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Are you not feeling well dearie?"

I look up at Marion's soft tone - having not noticed she had come outside - and she moves to stand behind the chair opposite of mine, her hands adjusting the silver tray she held. Her features were gentle...somewhat concerned.

I wanted to tell her what happened, to spill each secret I kept in my head and at least get it off my chest, but that small voice knew it would only acknowledge my sorrows and nothing more. What could Marion do against her king. Her ruler?

What could anyone do?

"I just...don't have much of an appetite." I lie, my gaze falling down to my lap and George moves his hand away from mine. He straightens in his seat, gently pushing the plate closer to the edge of the table before tapping the rim with his pointer finger.

"Will you eat for Marion?" He asks and I take another breath, my hands tightening around the fabric in a subtle act of frustration. I shake my head in a silent response - failing to notice the small smile tugging at the corners of the royal's lips as he picks up a small raspberry from the plate, playing with it between his fingers as if he were looking for imperfections on its matte red surface.

With biting back my sudden irritation I turn to face the male.
"Your majesty, please-" a gasp cuts through the air, slicing into silence at the tart taste of the fruit that was popped into my mouth. The male's hand then rests over my lips - the cuff of his white dress shirt tickling my face. Both Marion and the royal chuckle, the blonde covering her bottom lip in a polite action.

"Got you." He smiles and my frame was still - his gaze watching my pink dusted features intently - and after taking a moment to process what had happened, I move his hand, replacing it with my own and my gaze shifts to his blue eyes. 

"That was not necessary-" my stammered protest earns another chuckle from the blonde - who moves to busy herself with the task of fixing the table. "I am perfectly capable o-of eating by myself."

"Oh can you now? Well I'd love to see that, my dear." George chimes and my expression narrows at his sarcastic tone.

I straighten. "But we've had meals together before-"