Rules Of Royalty

Rule 13: Royals Need Comforting

"Do you remember, Miro," Adamata asked, sliding her fingers along the edge of the Russian's vanity, "Your time with your birth parents? Do you remember what it was like, having to check the price tag before buying a dress?"

Miroslava's lips curled downwards as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her. She looked closely at Adamata. Her movements were lazy but sharp, at least she wasn't drunk.

"Why do you care?"

"Were you happy when you were adopted? Madly rich parents, a luxurious house, expensive clothes, enough food, always." Adamata looked at her reflection in the mirror then at Miroslava's.

"She can not compare to you."

"Are you drunk, Adamata?" Miroslava took few steps over to her.

"You still do it. You still look at price tags sometimes. You're careful with food, clothes and you don't rush newly released fashion."

"Adamata, what the hell are you on?"

"Why didn't you sleep with Damon?"

Miroslava paused for a moment, "How do you know? Are you stalking me?"

"Oh don't flattered yourself," Adamata laughed.

"Wait," Miroslava shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, "You're still hung up on him? Honey, it was just a high-school fling. Get over it."

"Miroslava, we're still dating."

"What? No, you guys broke up." Miroslava's brows furrowed as she stared at Adamata.

She'd almost slept with Damon, they couldn't be dating. Not even her conscience allowed her sleep with boys she knew her friends were into.

"We didn't. We're still together." Adamata walked over to the large king-sized bed, sitting on the sheets of Egyptian cotton. "You didn't know?"

"You really think so low of me?" Miroslava walked over to her and sat down next to the girl with eyes glossing over.

She'd never seen Adamata cry, didn't think she was capable. Even after the news of her sister's death went viral, she came to school with that evil smirk on her face, no sign of remorse.

It was hard to believe that Adamata could cry because of a boy. It made her seem a little less manic.

"I wouldn't have led him on if I'd known you two were still dating. You never even talk about him, Adamata." Miroslava leaned towards her, annoyance lacing her voice as she becane defensive.

"I know, I know. It's my fault," Adamata gripped at her hair, the tears running freely down her cheeks as she spoke, chest heaving, sobs fighting through her throat, "I didn't say anything, I-"

"It's not your fault. It's his. He should have said something instead of coming on to me. It's not your fault for wanting a private relationship." The Russian cut her off, resting her hand on Adamata's thigh, squeezing it in reassurance.

They were in silence for a while, calm in each other's presence, no words needed between them.

"Did you know?" Adamata began. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara, "Marsela told me she was fine. Everyday, as she got thinner and landed more modelling gigs, she was always smiling. She seemed so fine. But then... you know what happened."

Miroslava nodded.

"It's just, I know it's wrong if me to think this way, but, how could she lie to me? Why lie to me? That's so selfish, isn't it? It's not a white lie. You were literally fucking dying, so why the fuck would you lie to your own sister!"

The tears began bursting through and Miroslava quickly wrapped her arms around Adamata, feeling the way her body shook as she cried.

"Now, Damon cheats on me and tells me how I'm still the only one on his mind. All the other girls are just fleeting through. Is that a lie? Should I believe it?"

Miroslava mumbled a soft 'I don't know.'

"Miroslava, why is my life so shitty? Is your life shitty? Yours seems so easy and basic, sex, sex, manipulate. Your life can't be that easy, right?"

"Sex is comforting, Adamata." Miroslava's breath tickled the Albanian's neck, "It's the easiest way to receive validation and comfort and to express love, lust. It releases tension, eases anxiety. It's so easy."

Miroslava moved closer.

"Growing up, the kids in my neighbourhood played around with all these sexual activities, laughing and looking so happy and I wanted to be happy too. Now that I think about it, it may have been a bit 'rapey', because the boy was so much older, but still, it was comforting.

"Not at first, at first, it was- I think I was drugged. I don't know. I was floating in and out of consciousness. One minute I'm fully clothed, then I'm in my underwear, then there's something moving inside me. It was scary, definitely, but, some part of me loved it.

"So I went back to him, and we did it sober, and I kept going back. Over and over again. Now I'm here, my parents are dead and I'm living this luxurious life and I'm still looking for who to bed because I love sex so much. I think about it so much, and it's scary but nice. I don't know. I-"

Adamata cut her off my harshly slamming her lips upon Miroslava's. For a moment, she got no response, then Miroslava's hand on her thigh moved upwards and her lips pressed forward.

"This is comfort?" Adamata asked as Miroslava pushed her down on the bed, undoing her buttons and placing kisses on her collarbone.

"Do you feel the comfort now?" Miroslava murmured as she placed her fingers on the wetness between Adamata's thighs, prompting the girl to close her thighs.

"Go on."

Her fingers slipped underneath the Agent Provocateur thong, stroking, pumping.

"This is comfort." Miroslava whispered.

"Faster."