Frigid Flora

thirty-two - car chase

Chapter Thirty-Two

Flora's P.O.V

Change.

I knew it was going to happen, it was inevitable, but I hadn't expected Parker to act on it quite so soon. Four days after my secret was revealed, in fact. I didn't know that to Parker this had felt like four years, after all it wasn't him sharing a roof with Ian, but it had. I had been in bed when he came knocking at my door, or rather my window, in a very Parker Heywood fashion to change up my life for what felt like the billionth time since I'd met him. This, however, was about to rank first place on my board that held the most life altering events that had so far taken place.

As a child, I'd been obsessed when it came to romance concerning fairytales. The princes forever being there for their beloved princesses no matter what perilous danger stood between their feelings toward one another. How beautiful, tinkling music would play in a grand ballroom that when danced to with said prince it was impossible for the pair to not fall madly in love without even asking the necessities like, say, are you a vegetarian? Not that I was, or judged anybody if they hosted cruciferous vegetable nights rather than ripping into a bloody steak, but if one was against that sort of thing then dinner time might have been rather difficult. Especially as the eventual realisation of the turn-off that was his eating habits would be found out after the marriage. Not that either would care - they were in love! In fairytales love conquered all, and I had never taken much notice of the ridiculous simplicity of it until recently.

It was now more than ever that I wished my life would reflect the ease of a fairytale. To confide in my prince with my troubles and have him speed away on horseback, sword strapped to his side and glistening in the sunset, to fix matters and return triumphant. To know that my ending was guaranteed to be a happy one for nothing could stand in the way of true love. To throw my long hair out of the window and have him climb up safely.

But life wasn't a fairytale, and love was hard.

My hair was much too short to offer my struggling prince a helping hand, who, swearing colourfully, almost broke the drain pipe on his last push getting himself inside. I slid the window shut after him, shivering from the cold night air. Parker stood doubled over, sweating despite the frosty weather after his wrestle with brick and piping for the past half hour.

"I think," He wheezed. "I preferred breaking into the downstairs windows."

"Sure you're not just getting a little soft in the places there used to be muscle? You had been using doors for an alarming length of time until the Never-Talk-To-Parker rule came into play. Think you're just losing your touch." I teased.

"Very funny," He stoped glaring once he noticed I was hugging my chilled arms closer to my body to preserve the last of my heat. It was late and I hadn't been expecting a visit so of course I was in my pyjamas that consisted of Parker's lacrosse shirt - which, I might add, I was supposed to have given him back many months ago but claimed I'd lost it - and nothing else save my comfortable pair of girls boxer shorts. Not at all an outfit I had ever wanted him to have the pleasure of viewing, but it was a little late to change now seeing as he'd finally gotten himself inside and it was four am. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm f-" Parker had already walked over and started to vigorously rub the sides of my arms. I stood - or rather jiggled about on the spot, my feet virtually lifting from the floor every now and then from his enthusiasm - rather uncomfortably for a few minutes before I put my foot down. "What are you doing?"

"Heating you," He said as if I were the stupid one.

"This is weird."

"Well you don't like hugs-"