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Now, of course, I’m out of time.
The wheels have been set in motion for my assassination. I realize it with numb calmness. I feel nothing at the knowledge that I could have died. That I will be next. If they failed just now, they’ll try again. It’s a matter of time.
I’m out of time.
“Why are you crying?” Marco asks again and inhales sharply. His arm is still around me, his fingers wrapped around my arm.
“They are trying to kill me,” I say, and just hearing the words coming out of my mouth makes me shiver. “It’s not just a theory, a distant possibility. It’s happening.”
Marco stays silent.
“You saw what happened to the car I should have been in. They will try again. Any minute now.” I look at the window. It’s a square of black. “You should probably leave, save yourself,” I add, and his grip on my arm tightens until it’s almost painful.
He realizes what he’s doing immediately and relaxes his hold.
“You saw the d-driver’s body, didn’t you?” I go on. “He was just an innocent person, doing his job, he…”
I’m crying so hard, I can’t talk.
Marco pushes me into his chest, muffling my sobs with his body. He lets me cry as long as I want. As long as I need to. And then there is more crying inside me, he puts me slightly away from his completely soaked chest and says:
“Talk to me.”
“What is there to say?” My voice is hoarse from crying. “I’m an idiot.”
“I know you are,” he replies at once, and there is such tenderness in his voice, I would start crying again if there had been any tears left inside me. “But why are you an idiot in this particular instance?”
“Because I’m about to die, and all I can think is,” I say, “that I’ll never get to see Vermont in snow, or Christmas in Vermont.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he says, but he inhales sharply.
“Isn’t it the most immature, insignificant thing you’ve ever heard in your life?” I sniffle, half-laughing hysterically. “I won’t get to experience snow in Vermont or summer in Vermont or a romantic getaway in Vermont. I thought this place, here, was as close to a fairytale as I could get when I got into UVM. I thought it would be this idyllic life, and that I would make memories to keep me alive for the rest of my boring, royal life. I thought I might finally squeeze in one or two movie moments that I’d never be allowed to have otherwise.”
“Movie moments?” he raises an eyebrow, but he knows what I mean, and if he thinks it’s silly, so do I. But I still wanted them.
I wanted them so badly.
“Now the memories I have of this place,” I say, “include vomiting and blood and hiding. And exploded limo drivers. And angry princes yelling that they hate me. And time running out. Well. Time has not been on my side in general, has it? Heck, I haven’t even talked to my dad since the scandal came out. Now it looks like I’ll never get to.”
He turns his face to mine, and stops my words with a kiss, opening his mouth and biting my lip. I freeze, as it takes a moment to register that his lips are on mine. And then, a split second later, I pounce on him, hungry, desperate. I think I taste the saltiness of tears on his lips, but they must be mine. Why would he cry? I can’t even imagine him crying.
He opens his mouth wider, almost swallowing mine, and tilts his head to fit my lips better. His hands are on my cheeks, cupping my face, bringing it up to his, as he kisses me so thoroughly, I forget to breathe.
I shudder, and he loses it completely. He sits up, grabbing my waist and lifting me onto his crossed legs. Mine wrap themselves around his waist of their own accord, and we gasp and pant against each other as we taste each other’s’ lips, forgetting that we are supposed to need air to breathe.
Because we don’t. All we need is this. This.
This.
He lifts his head off mine to look me straight in the eye. His eyes are so impossibly big and blue, I can’t look directly in them. There is something bottomless and desperate in them, as if he’s asking me to save him.
Begging me.
Praying to be saved.
I don’t know what to do with a look like that, so I look down.
“Wh-what just happened?” I whisper, mostly to myself. Then, I look up, sensing something not right with him. “Hey, are you ok?”
