Hard To Love #1 | yyyeodang

8

i just fuck it up

HUGO's POV :

This. This was exactly the reason I do not join any reunions hosted by Zandar. They always include drinking. I was not against drinking, honestly. I, just like any other normal guy entering adulthood, drink. But it's the fact that some drunk people cause troubles. Last time, two drunk princes got into a fight. This time, I'm here, trying to handle a drunk princess.

I sat on the bed again after bolting the door. Her idea. She said if we are going to talk, we need to shut the door so no one can hear us.

Weird, but okay.

She started smiling while looking at me. "What?" I asked.

She shifted a bit closer to me and said while still smiling, "Vous savez, vous n'avez pas l'air si mal." (You know, you don't look that bad.)

"Quoi?" (What?) I'm convinced that she's possessed at this point.

"Vous avez l'air attirant." (You look attractive.) She said with a smile so huge on her face that looking at her made my jaw hurt. 

Okay, this was getting a bit interesting. Drunk Sofia is saying things that her normal sane self would never even think of.

"Mhm . . Qu'est-ce que tu aimes d'autre chez moi?" (Mhm . . What else do you like about me?) I asked.

"Tout." (Everything.) She stopped for a moment and frowned, "Sauf votre personnalité." (Except your personality.)

Wow.

I chuckled and asked, "Pourquoi n'aimez-vous pas ma personnalité?" (Why don't you like my personality?)

"Vous continuez toujours à sourire. Tu es tellement arrogant." (You always keep on smirking. You're so cocky too.)

This time, I didn't stop myself from laughing. 

"Hé! Pourquoi riez-vous?" (Hey! Why are you laughing?) She asked, being totally offended.

"Désolé. It's just that . . ." (I'm sorry. It's just that . . . ) I wasn't able to continue my sentence and burst out laughing again.

"Hé!" (Hey!) She said and threw a pillow at my face.

"Alright. Alright. Je vais m'arrêter." (Alright. Alright. I'll stop.) I said.

"Voir? C'est pourquoi je ne t'aime pas. Vous vous moquez de moi." (See? This is why I don't like you. You make fun of me."

"Alright. Désolé, princesse." (Alright. I'm sorry, princess.)

She suddenly looked sad, and I shifted a bit closer to her, "Hé, que s'est-il passé?" (Hey, what happened?)

"Ne m'appelez pas comme ça." (Don't call me that.) 

"Quoi?" (What?) 

"Princesse. Ne m'appelez pas comme ça." (Princess. Don't call me that.) She looked down and replied.

"Pourquoi?" (Why?) I thinned my brows in confusion.

"Je ne suis pas une princesse." (I'm not a princess.) She replied, with her head still down.