The Crimson King

Chapter 2 | Obstinate

Hi lovely people,
Here is Chapter Two, I hope you enjoy it! Chapter Three is set to be posted next Sunday as planned. Thank-you to all of the support shown to this story, and to Iris so far, and those of you who have come over from the APK 'Dragon's Heart' (Resurrection) Epilogue, thank you for all of your comments and love that you've left on those last few chapters - I honestly can't thank you enough.

The beginning of this story is reasonably fast paced (I've never liked messing around xD) and I will be introducing some new characters in Chapter 3.

If you enjoyed, please consider voting <3
Much love as always,
Daisy x

Chapter Two | Obstinate

*

'The bravest thing
you can do
is be unafraid to
f e e l . '

- Bridgett Devoue

*

"Can you pass the salt please?"

Iris obliged, munching on a forkful of fresh eggs and bread as she handed over the little jar. It had been a week since the incident in the forest and Arlo seemed no closer to telling her the truth than he had on the day that it had happened.

She recalled the tone with which he had told her to go to her room once they had reached the house, and the anger she had unleashed upon him when he had refused to keep his promise.

'It's not the right time,' he had said, and that was all that he had said.

She had watched from her window as he had run off across the lawn and back into the woods. Although there was nothing that physically bound her, some unknown force had prevented her from leaving the house and following after him.

Since then, she had refused to speak to him unless she had to, a task that was proving more difficult to do than she had thought it would be, especially since he seemed – infuriatingly – not to care.

Her resolve was wavering again now, as she watched his dearly familiar face opposite her at the table. Every now and then he would meet her gaze, and she would always be the first to look away. She was angry at him, but the quiet sadness that she could see in his eyes made her heart ache uncomfortably.

She stood up abruptly and gathered her plate, scraping the leftovers into the bucket they kept for chicken scraps. She felt him come up behind her as she straightened and moved to the sink, taking his offered plate silently before running the water.

"Iris, have you ever wished that you could leave from here?"

His sudden question surprised her, and her hands halted their motions, half submerged in soapy water. She half wanted to say yes, just to see how much he would be hurt – but she couldn't do that to him. Her hands began to move again, the plates clinking gently as she washed them.

"No."

He came up closer behind her; she could see his reflection in the window. He thought she couldn't see him; she knew this because his expression was more pained than anything he had ever shown to her. His hands extended as though he was going to capture her wrists. She waited to feel his touch, but it didn't come.

"You're almost eighteen. Don't you want to know more about the world?"

"I'm happy here with you." Although she was mad at him at the moment that was her honest answer.