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Primrose looked at him, sensing the pain and anger he felt for her. It was relieving to share her story with someone else, but she hated to feel pitied. She didn’t want her experiences to change the way anyone treated her. Primrose looked down at her bandaged hands and became overwhelmed with emotion. The vampyre had triggered her past, and she wished for it to no longer linger on the surface of her mind.
Protego looked contemplative. “Do you have any honey?”
Primrose nodded and opened an adjacent cabinet. Pulling out a small jar of honey, Primrose handed it to him. Protego’s presence loomed over her as he approached, coming closer.
“Can I touch you?” he asked, barely louder than a whisper.
“What?” Primrose’s soft-spoken voice replied.Why would he make a request like that right now?
“Permission to remove your bandages?”
“Oh!” Realization hit Primrose as she smiled. “Permission granted.”
Protego gently unwrapped the gauze from her hands, discarding them. He poured the honey on her healing wounds, and she flinched at the contact.
“Sorry, this shouldn’t hurt,” Protego informed her, and she nodded.
The paleness of her frail hands accentuated the golden tan of his larger, stronger hands as he rubbed the honey onto her. Then, Protego pulled wisps of shadow out from the air and began making swirling motions with his wrists, wrapping the shadows around her hands. The shadows were ribbons of smoky magic coating the air. She watched closely as they circled her. Once they dissipated, Primrose was left with two clean hands. Not a wound or even a scratch in sight.
“Woah.” Primrose’s bright green eyes were ready to burst as they opened wide in awe.
“I can only do it in certain conditions. Your wounds were already healing, making it less draining on me to perform this ritual,” he informed her.
“Thank you so much.”
Primrose stared down at her hands for many moments, analyzing every centimeter of her clear skin. It was soft and new, like a babe. She then walked back towards the bowl of cake batter, which was now a pale shade of yellow.
“Give me a hand with this,” she requested. Primrose grabbed a small piece of wood and placed it into the back section, fueling the small fire. They poured the liquid into a deep pan and put it into the iron oven. As Protego closed the door, white powder flew at his face in sudden waves.
“What was that for?” he asked, wiping the flour from his eyes.
“You’re so grim! Loosen up.” Primrose’s mouth turned upward as she threw more flour in his direction.
“We just shared a heartfelt moment, and now you’re attacking me with powder. I’m a little confused.”
“Quit whining! You’re just afraid because you know I’ll win this fight.” Primrose stuck her tongue out and headed towards the bag of flour once more.
Protego looked at her with understanding eyes. “Oh if you want to play, I’ll play.”
As Protego darted in her direction, Primrose flung herself out of his reach and into the corridor. Rounding a corner, she spotted the door that led to the courtyard in the castle’s center. She reached for it, hearing that his footsteps were not far behind. Her bare feet touched the garden grounds’ full grass, and she hid behind a bush, placing her out of Protego’s line of sight. As he scanned the area for her, Primrose jumped out and tackled him, causing them both to plummet to the ground. His muscular figure was warm beneath her, and she enjoyed the closeness of their bodies, despite the ridiculousness of the situation. She was straddling him from above as they burst out into heavy laughter. Primrose squirmed off, laying down next to him, giggling.
“I win.” Primrose glowed with cheer.
“Ahem,” a voice cut through the laughter. Primrose looked over to see Mrs. Sharp standing ten or so feet away, glaring at them.
“Having a bit too much fun, I see,” Mrs. Sharp scolded.
“I think we’re having the perfect amount of fun.” Primrose giggled as Protego jumped off of her. He hoisted her up, and she began brushing dirt off her dress.
“If anything, we aren’t having enough,” Protego suggested, smirking.
“Ms. Tanaka is requesting the two of you.”
“We’ll be there momentarily.” Primrose smiled at the woman. Mrs. Sharp bowed her head while simultaneously eyeing Protego. She entered the doorway to the castle and was out of sight.
“Is she ever going to trust me? Or perhaps even like me?”
Primrose looked at his face and pursed her lips. “Highly unlikely,” she replied bluntly.
