Atlas (A Selection/Hat Films Fanfiction)

~ Forty Three ~

I felt fear grip my throat when I saw the guards standing at the entrance to the hallway that led to the royals' rooms, but I tried not to look suspicious as I approached them. They looked at me but didn't say anything as I approached. They only gave a synchronous bow and "Lady Avery," as I passed them, and I let out the breath I had been holding once I was far enough away from them. I could only assume Alexandre had told them of my visit, and I hoped they wouldn't tell anyone else I was here so late at night.

My anxiety was choked out with rising excitement as my maids finished up for the night. It was a painfully long wait, but finally they left, and I only waited a minute before throwing on a simple, long sleeved grey dress. It was comfortable, and I wanted to feel as secure as possible tonight as we discussed such heavy topics. I tried to be as quiet as possible as I walked over to Alex's bedroom.

I knocked lightly on the middle of three doors, hoping not to alert Prince Christoph or Ross as I signaled my arrival.

Alexandre cracked the door open and pulled me inside quickly before immediately shutting it again. He had that pinched look on his face, but when he turned to look at me as I saw the tension in his brow melt away. I wondered if I ever saw anyone relax like that around me, and my heart fluttered as he gave me an easy smile.

"Um. . . hi," I greeted with a breathy laugh. Seeing the clock on his desk, I realized it was only a few minutes past midnight, which gave us a lot of time to kill.

He stepped toward me, wrapping one arm around my waist and placing his other hand on my jaw. "Hey Altas," he replied quietly, bending down to kiss me gently. My stomach flipped at his touch, making me tense up against him and take a shaky breath.

"Are you nervous?" he asked, his head tilting to the side and furrowing his eyebrows. His lazy grin never left his lips.

Yes.

"I don't get nervous," I lied, playfully rolling my eyes and turning, "I just haven't been in here since. . ." I sat down on the end of his bed as my words trailed off and smoothed out the skirts of my dress.

"Since you stopped having to hold back with me?" Alexandre asked, walking over slowly to join me.

I felt dizzy as he leaned back on his hand, putting our faces at the same height. I told the both of us I wanted to wait until after the tea party, but I was starting to lose that resolve as I looked at the prince in the dim light of his bedroom. He was impossibly attractive, having pulled off his tie and undone the first few buttons of his shirt. What I wouldn't do to see him like this every day.

I realized I was just staring at him without giving him an answer. "Yeah," I laughed, running my hand through my hair to push it out of my face, "That's one way to put it."

He pushed one side of my hair over my shoulder, his eyes traveling down and up my body and landing back on mine. "I just watched you give a passionate, inflammatory speech to an entire continent," he mused, holding me there with his intense gaze, "and yet here you are, falling apart with the slightest touch." His hand was on my thigh, just above my knee.

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my thoughts straight. "Was that speech too much?" I asked seriously while we were on the subject, still painfully aware of his hand, "Should I have said something else?"

"Debatable," the prince muttered, his eyes flitting away to look around the room before he gave a chuckle in disbelief, "But goddamn Atlas. . . you say you're not good enough to be queen and then give a speech off the cuff better than something I could spend hours writing." He smirked at me and his eyebrows pinched up to give me a light-hearted, exasperated look.