24| Wine

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Wine

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Chapter 24: Wine (Ronan's POV)

After that conversation, there was a lot of tension between us. I could feel it, she definitely felt it, even the walls probably felt it. After I left her room, we somewhat avoided each other. I left her to unpack, telling her she could let me know if she needed anything, but she didn't come out of her room and I didn't go back either. I don't know what to do. I feel like if I act on impulse and do what I truly, really, desperately want, which is her, then I'm not only putting myself but I'm putting her at risk too. If everybody isn't against her already, they definitely will be if they find out about us. 

But then I think about what Grace told me. About how if I don't do what I want to, I'll have to spend a long time around her, watch her get engaged, married, and whatnot, all while holding in how I genuinely feel. I'll constantly want her but I'll never be able to have her. Instead, I'd be tortured every time I see her with Lucas. That's why I suggested we should do whatever we please while we're staying here and return back to our assigned roles once we're at the palace again. 

But that's now how it works, is it? You can try but feelings don't always leave your system and if they don't, we're in for a disaster. Because there's no doubt in my mind that if I can't contain myself, I will take her hand at that church and run. That's only if I love her by then. But she's Princess Grace Grimaldi. The whole fucking kingdom loves her, why wouldn't I? I'm hoping we're both able to lose whatever we've developed towards each other before her wedding. But I can't be very sure. 

Let's come back to the present though, where I'm making dinner and she's still hiding in the room. I went to check on her a few minutes ago but her room was empty and I could hear the shower water running, so I figured she was freshening up. I decreased the heat of the gas and put the lid on, letting the spaghetti boil while I made the sauce. I looked over my shoulder when I heard the floorboard creak. 

She was taking a look around while walking over, stopping at the kitchen island where she sat on the barstool, looking at me. I turned around, facing her. "Hi," she said softly, giving me a small smile. 

"Hi," I replied, taking in her damp hair and the navy blue satin gown she wore with a robe on top, secured around her waist with a knot. "I'm making spaghetti, I hope that's fine for dinner," I said, turning back around and starting to wrap it up, almost done with dinner. 

"Yeah, spaghetti's good. I didn't know you could cook," she said, drumming her fingers on the countertop. 

"There's a lot you don't know about me." 

"Hmm, I wonder whose fault that is," she scoffed. 

I chuckled, turning off the gas and grabbing two plates. "That's because before we came here we were working as princess and bodyguard. And here that's not what we are. Isn't that what you said, Princess?" 

"I did, huh?" 

"You did." While letting the food cool down a bit, I grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. 

"Oh, we're having wine?" She smiled. I could tell she was trying to ease the situation between us and reduce the tension as much as she could. She was acting like nothing happened earlier. 

It made my heart twist in an odd little way. I didn't know if she was acting that way because she wanted to or because she didn't want to make me think or feel a certain way, and the possibility of it being the latter made me feel a little guilty. 

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