The Mouse and The Monarch

38

His scars, his tousled blonde hair and every little thing about him.

She had seen it all.

Her mind whirred as she walked back towards her room, her eyes darting all over the hallway as she thought about Zero's words.

The dimly lit room held an air of tension as Ophelia opened their barrack door.

On silent feet, she walked to where his massive form sat draped over a small desk in the corner of the room.

She dropped the bowl onto the worn wooden desk in front of him with more force than was necessary.

The clatter echoed in the silence, drawing his attention away from whatever occupied his thoughts.

Her short, brown, curly hair framed her face as she stood defiantly, hands on her hips, and eyes ablaze with a mixture of frustration and determination.

The giant man's head turned slowly towards her, revealing short, blonde strands that framed his scarred face.

His tired eyes flicked from the bowl to her in confusion.

Strangely, she found herself drawn to the ruggedness of his appearance.

He was really hot.

Tired and rugged as hell, but very, very hot.

"What's this?" he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

Ophelia rolled her eyes, frustration etched on her face as nodded towards the bowl.

His voice filled her with heat and made waves of tingles roll over her skin.

"Breakfast," she retorted sharply, her anger palpable as she stared at the humble oats she had prepared for him.

Cooking might not have been her forte, but she had made the effort for him.

It made her uncomfortable.

His eyes, still fixed on her, softened, turning that beautiful ocean blue.

A crooked smile slowly spread across his plump lips.

Ophelia felt her confusion and frustration subside as a surge of desire and happiness ignited in her at the sight of that rare smile.

"You care about me, Schatz? " he asked softly as he stared at her, but Ophelia could hear the smugness evident in his tone as he leaned back in his chair.

Long legs stretched out in front of him.

Lean muscled chest rippling as he moved.

Dismissing his statement, Ophelia rolled her eyes once more and turned to leave the room.

She wasn't used to this.

To care and make an effort.

Before she could take another step, the chair behind her screeched backwards against the floor.

Ophelia's heart raced, and before she could comprehend what was happening, strong hands enveloped her waist.

A surprised gasp escaped her lips as she was effortlessly lifted from her feet and gently placed on his lap.

The contrast between his strength and her petite frame was palpable.

His muscular arms securely encircled her waist, creating a cocoon of warmth and security.

Noël was much taller than her, but as he pulled her close a sense of shelter and intimacy wrapped around her.

He felt safe.