I'm Falling for a Royal Prince {OG BOOK 1}

Chapter 12: An Almost-Mistake

Honestly, I don't know how to name chapters, so yeah...

Chapter 12: An Almost-Mistake

Vincent

I was never really one to do things for other people, simply because I always had someone there to do it for me. Hence, I'm a Prince, it's another's job to do things for me anyway. That would probably explain why I can't cook for the life of me. I never tried it before. I never even picked up a frying pan in my life!

So for me to tell myself that I can make Folashadé a late night omelet was preposterous. I wouldn't know the first thing about cooking if it smacked me in my face.

It was a bit past midnight and, unfortunately, none of the cooks were awake to do me this simple favor. I say simple because I know it's easy, I just didn't have the knowledge to do it.

I sighed irritably as I opted for a quick meal: Cereal; Honey Cheerios, to be exact. It wasn't much, but it was the best I could do.

I grabbed two bowls, spoons, the Cheerios, and the milk before heading back to my chambers.

I spent a great amount of time insulting myself for not knowing how to cook that I hadn't even realized that it was already 1:15.

"Fuck," I swore under my breath. What if she came 15 minutes ago, realized that I wasn't here, and just left?

"Calm down, Vince. It isn't a big deal. It's not like you don't see--"

Two soft knocks interrupted me in mid-sentence, followed by her familiar, oddly powerful, voice.

"Do you always talk to yourself," she questioned as I turned around to face her.

"Most of the time," I replied truthfully. "I thought you left," I continued, mentally feeling a wave of relief fall over me.

"No, I just came here. I had to wash my hair," she informed. I glanced at her hair, noticing that it was covered by a dark t-shirt.

"Why do you have a t-shirt on your head," I inquired, genuinely curious about the reason.

"It's to dry my hair. Drying it with a t-shirt will leave some of the moisture in my hair. With a towel, it'll all just get soaked up, leaving my hair really dry. Why do you think we dry our bodies with towels," she explained.

I barely heard what she said, besides 'dry our bodies with towels'. At that point, an image of her drying her naked body came to mind, her skin shimmering with light specks of glitter. The towel hugged her shapely figure so perfectly that it could be considered a crime. Even though she wasn't exactly nude in that image, I still felt my body react to it.

"Sir."

Her voice brought me out of my trance, but it was her closeness that nearly threw me off my feet.

"Y-yes," I hastily replied.

"Can I leave now," she asked, mildly glaring at me.

"No, we barely spoke," I said, returning the rude expression.

"We just spent five minutes talking about my hair, and you said it wouldn't be long," she reminded.

"It won't. Sit... please," I unintentionally begged.

She stared at me with suspicion as she slowly sat at my vanity.

I prepared our cereal bowls on a nearby dresser. It was silent the entire time, but it was better than the usual tension, as it was not there.

I gently handed her the bowl of cereal.

She stared at it for a moment before looking up at me. "Why are you giving me cereal," she questioned.