My fingers curl around a wrist, gently as my eyes adjust to the warm light entering the room. As I open my eyes and my body finally allows me to see clearly, I find Henry above me, his weight rested against mine. His fingers are holding my hair back and his thumb is gently grazing the scar along my hairline. His eyes fall to mine and he smiles, softly, gliding his hand through the rest of my hair.
He looks like an angel to me, intimate and glowing in the new light filling the room. I feel a swarm of warmth fill my veins as I stare at him, unable to think of any reasons that could actually tear me apart from him.
"Good morning," he whispers, nuzzling his nose against mine. I close my eyes, surprised when it's hard to breathe. I feel him tantalizing every possible sense I possess, just by being near me. I'm trembling, having never felt this dependent on someone, ever.
He pulls back, smirking in confusion when I don't answer. I make a noise, stupidly trying to get over my awe.
"What?" he asks, amusedly, hand on the mattress beside my head.
"I-I love you too," I whisper, finally finding my speech, finally saying what was too hard to yesterday. I watch the shock drift across his features, then recognition, understanding, and then lastly, exhilaration. His smile widens as he bends his head down, kissing me gently. We're both straight out of sleep but desperate passion takes over quickly and within moments, we're tearing off the barriers between us.
...
Laying flat on my stomach, my face against the mattress and a head against my back, I close my eyes, still recovering from the reoccurring pleasure Henry's offered in the last hour. His arm is extended over my back, clasping my hand beside my body. I shiver as his presses his mouth to my spine, drifting lower slowly.
"We are fucking crazy," I whisper, amused. I hear a laugh from him.
"You are right about that."
"I've never... felt this before."
It's quiet for a moment. "You loved him," he says, observingly.
"I did. But it wasn't this. It didn't happen like this. I feel- like... I don't even know what I feel like."
"It feels good," he whispers, sighing. "Too good."
I hum, nodding, completely content.
"I've never loved anyone," he murmurs, out of the blue. "Never had this with anybody."
"What about girlfriends?"
He chuckles. "My last real relationship was when I was sixteen, Mia. I'm extremely new at this... you couldn't tell?" he asks, wryly. I roll my eyes.
"You don't do too bad."
"Thanks."
I sigh, contentedly, relishing in how good this feels, how good being with him feels.
"... When did you meet your ex? John?"
I immediately feel the pit in my stomach feeling I always get whenever John's name is brought up in conversation. "Five years ago. I was twenty-one when we met."
"Did you begin seeing one another immediately? Dating, I mean."
I nod, biting my inner lip. "Yes. I met him at a party one of my friends in college took me to. He was the host, well, his father was."
"Thomas Robinson, the mayor of New York?"
I close my eyes, hating that he already knows my life. "I really shouldn't even be talking about this," I murmur.
"It's not like I don't already know that he hurt you."
"Yes, but you can't know how."
"I'd like to."
"Why?"
"Because I woke up and I see that scar and I think the absolute worst. It's driving me crazy."
I finally look over at him. "I don't like to talk about it."
"I know. And I won't bring it up again."
His eyes are cautious, but persistent, not leaving mine for a moment. I'm the first one to look away, resting my cheek back against the mattress, breathing in slowly, steeling myself for the memories that will come flooding back.
"He was drunk. He had found a way into the apartment, I still don't know how. He was- angry. He had seen me get into a car with a man. I tried to tell him that he was just a friend but since I had been pulling away from him for a while, he- thought I was cheating on him." I blink, remembering when I turned on the light to the living room, jumping in shock when I saw John, sitting on the couch. "I tried to-to end it then. I told him that he had changed... that he wasn't the same man anymore."
"Things began to escalate. We started yelling and he just snapped... H-he rounded the couch and I ran. I-I tried to get to the kitchen but he got me." I flinch as I remember the sharp sting from his hand on my cheek, feeling like I'm going to be sick. I feel Henry's lips on my skin, gentle.
"I don't remember much after that b-but... I managed to get to the door. He grabbed my hair and hit my head into the door." I breathe in, blinking away the tears of fear, remembering that I'm nowhere near John or New York. "A-Anyways, I pretty much lost consciousness after that. I woke up when my aunt found me."
"God, Mia, I'm so sorry," he breathes, moving till his face is parallel to mine. He lifts our entwined hands to his lips, kissing softly. "That was... worse than I had imagined."
"My aunt told me that there was a... pool of blood around my head. She thought I was dead. The doctors said I could have been, if she hadn't found me... that's why she's so protective of me."
He nods, eyes wide. "I can understand that... Did he come to you in the hospital- to sign the agreement?"
I shake my head, humming darkly. "No. His father was already at the hospital when we arrived in the ambulance. He has a way of scaring the shit out you when he wants to. I wasn't even fully conscious when we got to the doors but he got to me before doctors could, pretending to be caring and worried. He actually was threatening me if I spoke a word of the truth. He said he would destroy Ida's life, that she would be forced to live on the streets- after he was done. I told the doctors I fell down the stairs and hit my head."
"Fucking prick."
I nod. "My aunt and I signed while I was still in the hospital. John never came."
Henry shakes his head, grinding his teeth together. I run my thumb along his.
"I didn't see him again until- actually, the night before I traveled here."
Henry blinks. "What? You mean, you saw him a few weeks ago? Where? Why?"
"He said he came to apologize. He told me he had no idea about the agreement and that he was glad I hadn't told anyone about what happened... he told me he still loved me and wanted me to-to forgive him. He said he had made a mistake."
"A mistake?" Henry breathes, angrily. "You fucking bet he made a mistake. God, I wish I could meet this man, I really do."
I shake my head. "He's out of my life. I'm just glad for it."
I smile, lovingly as Henry's fingers glide through my hair. "I'm sorry I ever showed you that agreement."
"You didn't know. And I signed it without you knowing, remember?"
"Yes. But, still."
I breathe in. "We're doing a lot of things that are wrong. I can understand why you wanted me to. Why you needed me to sign."
"We are not wrong. They are wrong, everyone else. We should be able to be together. I should be able to choose who I want to love."
I nod, thinking. I gape, hesitantly. "Henry... are we still going to do the charities? I mean, I don't think we're going to convince your brother."
He clears his throat, uncomfortably. "I think it's important we still go through with the plan... I will transfer funds into your bank account, making it look like you received an inheritance from your parents that was released within the past year, upon your graduation from university. I know someone that can make it look as if you've been donating for months now. It will be easy... the hard part is actually attending and acquainting yourself with the right people."
I frown, stubbornly. "I would like to still find a job, Henry... I need to do something for my own life too."
He nods. "Of course. I do know someone that owns a small club a couple blocks from here. I'm not sure if they need someone but for me-"
"I'd really like to do this on my own," I say, immediately. "I'm thankful you want to help but-"
"You want to do this on your own," he says, nodding. "I get it." He leans forward, kissing my lips. "I'm sure you'll get something wonderful."
I take in the comfort when he moves closer finally, wrapping his arms around my body tightly. I press my cheek onto his warm chest, closing my eyes.
"Thank you... for telling me," he says, after a moment. I nod, molding to him easily, wishing I could stay here in this spot forever.
...
"Mia, I am your agent. I work from New York. I never said I could represent you in a different country!" Joe Howard argues, exasperatedly. "I just can't do it!"
"I understand, Joe. This was a spontaneous decision."
"I wish you had called me sooner. I have you booked for a gig in two weeks!"
I close my eyes, deciding on not even asking where it is. It would hurt too much to know. I've worked so long to find an agent and now, I'm actually giving one up. I shake my head at myself.
"I'm so sorry, Joe."
"Is there at least a guy involved? A family members dying? Something?"
"A guy."
He chuckles. "Good luck to you then."
I don't think he means it as a compliment. "Thanks..."
I sigh when he hangs up, closing my eyes. There are lists of charities on my desk that Henry left there before he went for a run. I pick up the pamphlets, slowly feeling the weight of them crash down upon me. I have no fucking clue what I'm doing.
...
"Give me your name and where you are from."
I clear my throat, stepping forward on the stage with a smile. It's my first audition for a singer/bartender position at a blues club, and I couldn't be more terrified. I think I may collapse.
"Mia Tyler. Queens, New York."
"You do live here though, right?"
"Yes, I do."
"Alright, go ahead."
...
I drop my purse down onto the couch, running my hand through my hair. Henry leans against the couch, holding out an arm. "How did it go?"
I walk into him, chuckling. "Well, they told me that they were looking for a voice with a more 'unique' sound."
"Are they fucking deaf?"
I smirk, rolling my eyes. "You're biased."
He looks down at me, resting a finger beneath my chin. "You had that entire auditorium in awe, Mia. I am the majority. They need hearing evaluations."
I grin, despite how shitty I feel. "Thank you."
He nods, looking down. "So, you are also a charity donor, to over six organizations. You have been for four months now."
He hands me a paper from the table. The sheet looks like gibberish, full of extensive numbers and addresses. "These are the charities. I've set everything you need to know about them on the desk in your bedroom. The first event I think you should attend is the Black Tie Dinner and Auction to raise funds for Uganda. I will also be attending, so while we can't sit together, I will be nearby."
"What will I do at this event? What do I act like? Dress like?"
He smirks, reaching down to grab my hand. "Come with me."
"Are you about to take me to the monstrosity of a wardrobe? Because to be honest, I'm quite scared of it."
"Scared?" he asks, laughing as he pushes open the bedroom door.
"Yes, scared. I don't even want to imagine how much money is inside there."
"A lot of money," he says, letting go of my hand. He opens the double doors, revealing color-coordinated outfits.
"Ah! They're even color-coordinated," I groan, jokingly. He smirks, pointing to the closet door in the room. My luggage clothes are still sitting on top of the chair in the corner, having been washed earlier today.
"You haven't even seen this yet."
I raise a brow. "I assumed it was empty."
He opens the doors, and I back up a step, wide eyed. He gets to me though, placing a hand on my back, ushering me forward into the extravagant room.
"H-Henry."
"Don't be intimidated."
My mouth gapes as my eyes take in the three long rows of gowns. Literally princess gowns. There is a island-type structure in the middle of the room, which holds jewels. Jewels, gloves, hats, any type of accessory a person would need. "How could I not be?"
"You press this button and the shoes come out, like this," Henry says, demonstrating. I close my eyes, trying to breathe.
"Why did you make this room, Henry?" I breathe. "I'm used to t-shirts and jeans! I-I-"
"I didn't make it. It actually came with the place. The woman who lived here was the editor of Vogue or something."
"Jesus." I swallow, overwhelmed. Henry walks over to me, breathing in.
"I thought you'd be happy."
"I'm... overwhelmed. I mean, I'm not a princess or anything. I'm not used to gowns... or necklaces that are the size of my throat."
He clasps my hands, suddenly serious. "Mia... you do realize that if you and I were to ever take the next step in our relationship, which I'm not going to lie, I kind of hope is what is going to happen... that you would, in every sense of the word, become a princess?"
I feel the blood drift from my veins. I've always known that whoever he married would be a princess. However, amongst the hundreds of thousands of dollars surrounding me, in the extravagant apartment he's purchased so I could continue to live in London, that observation is frankly terrifying.
"How am I supposed to ever be a princess, Henry?" I ask, finding it hard to speak. "I'm not even from England. I-I cuss. I got a C in history. I don't even like tea!"
"Mia," he says, warmly, clasping my face. "You are an extremely loveable person. England will adapt."
My eyes frantically bounce off every shiny object in the room, dizzily. Henry lets go of my hands and clasps my face tightly.
"Love," he whispers, calmly, "look at me."
At the soft endearment, I'm stunned enough to look back into his eyes. I clasp his wrists, shaking.
"Henry."
He smiles, softly. "I love you, Mia... Do you love me?"
I nod, swallowing. "Y-Yes."
"Then that's all that matters. Everything else is just background noise... You will never be in this alone in this, I am here."
"I don't know how to be a-a socialite. I don't know how to act like I have money."
He smiles. "I will teach you everything you need to know."
...
"Which one?" I breathe, pointing at two gowns- one is a safe cream color, the other a vibrant red. Henry seated in closet, reading a packet of documents, looks up, observing my choices. He's already dressed in a tuxedo, his bow tie dangling around his neck casually.
He purses his lips. "Red. The more you stand out tonight, the better."
"Oh... I was kinda just hoping to fade into the background," I joke, closing my eyes. When I open them, he's smirking.
"You know you could never fade into any background."
I smile, pleased, taking the red one off the hanger. It's heavy, the skirt is wide and long, drifting back over the ground. "You're sure it's not too 'look at me, look at me'?"
"That's exactly what it is. And it needs to be."
I close my eyes, turning to walking out of the closet. The hairdresser just left who left me with a simplistic pinned bun on my hair. Henry chose the earrings, silver drop ones with a row of gleaming diamonds. I'm scared to walk with them on.
I pull up the gown, wondering silently to myself how Henry knew my dress size. When I pull up the zipper, I let out a soft gasp, stunned by how gorgeous it actually looks on. I'm usually the type to just throw on anything. But with my hair done, the earrings, the princess gown- I feel pretty. I feel different. I adjust the top, not used to wearing strapless anything and pick up the skirt, walking back to the closet.
Henry looks up from his documents when I enter, and his eyes falter for a moment before he turns, to fully face me. I blush when he stands up after a moment, clasping my neck. He presses his lips to mine, hard and sure. Pulling back almost immediately, he exhales.
"You are beautiful."
I bite my lip, feeling a swarm of nervous nerves in my belly. "It's good?"
"Perfect," he says, nodding. His eyes drift down over the gown. "I think they'll discover us tonight. I won't be able to keep my eyes off you."
I smile, wide, running my hands over his tuxedo jacket. "I'll be looking for you too."