Royally Kissed | ✓

18; the daintily damaged

—eighteen—

the daintily damaged

THE STRIP OF dusty sunlight sifted through the blinds of the room and Paige watched the feathery particles dancing above her. Silence was soothing, though too quiet when she had nothing to do but lie down in her hospital bed.

An hour had already whisked by since Owen finally left for work, and Aoife, who'd been assigned to watch over her for the rest of her stay, just left to get some food to eat while she was left to her own devices.

She twirled her fingers haphazardly in the air as if trying to feel the light coming through the window. It was the only thing she could do not to drive herself loony. After thinking about the conversation she had with Owen over and over again, her mind had been practically emptied with thoughts to dwell into until she was nothing but a mindless bag of ego.

Someone knocked twice, and when she turned her attention to the door, she saw the guard's head peeping through. "Miss Paige, someone's here to see you."

"Who is it?"

"Uh..." he paused, glancing back at somewhere, or someone, and she heard him exchanging words with the visitor in an equally muffled tone. "Arthur and Jouwee," he answered afterwards, a slight frown on his features. "Should we let them in?"

Her heart leaped. "Yes, please."

Without a moment's hesitation, the two came in with long, hurried strides−the dark bags under Arthur's eyes and the shadow of worry on his face were hard to miss, and he'd reached for her like he couldn't get to her fast enough. Jouwee was following closely behind, but the faint stress was evident on her features as well.

"Paige," Arthur said, sounding out of breath, and she shot him a soft smile. Her hand swiftly reached up and Arthur grasped it just as fast before they both rested the bowl of her palm against his cheek, his warmth igniting her nerves alight. He let out a shaky breath as he leaned his face closer to hers. "I've missed you. We had to hang around the garden and the cafeteria since it seemed like it wasn't the best idea to crowd ourselves in here along with your family and then wear out our welcome."

Her lips tugged up higher−a silent agreement that it was wiser for them to linger back as her grandmother would probably make the situation awkward. Her parents wouldn't mind meeting them, she was certain, but Isolde was rather challenging to read. The importance of her presence was unmistakably stupendous that one couldn't help but excuse themselves for not longer than a minute. She would know because she felt the same way. All the time.

"It's okay," she replied, pressing the pad of her thumb back and forth in his cheek. "I've missed you, too."

"How was it?" Jouwee's face didn't seem too worried now, but her tone was different. Dense and uneasy. "I love watching gore movies but−needles? Man, I can't handle them. I can't imagine myself in the operating table like a frog being dissected. How's the pain?"

Paige let out a chuckle, wincing at the sore, stinging sensation that abruptly shot across her stomach. "I'm okay," she said, when both of them startled in surprise, their eyes widening in vague horror that Arthur had clasped his hand around her wrist in an instinctive manner. "It's bearable. Although it would take me a week, two probably, before I can get out of bed all on my own without aggravating it and making the pain worse. It's not an open surgery so, no, I'm pretty sure it didn't seem much like I was a frog having its stomach slit open in half."

Jouwee made a disgusted, guttural voice in the back of her throat, with face etching in utter repulsion. "Well done, Paige," she then said crossly, making a flat stare. "Thanks for the bloody representation. I can only imagine myself thinking about it for days, you meanie."