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Grabbing the bottle off the counter, I head for the couch, drinking deeply as I go. I’ll stay here, put a film on, drink until I forget and pass out.
You shouldn’t drink. Will you be able to protect Malia if there’s an attack and you’re blacked-out drunk?
Therewon’tbe an attack.
Would the others forgive you if anything happened to her on your watch? How will you explain to the Elders the catastrophe if she’s taken and you were drunk?
Fuck. I slam the half empty bottle down on the table and snatch up the remote. I angrily stab buttons until the TV comes on and then hastily change the channel when a sex scene appears before my eyes. Not fast enough though. In my mind, I’m the guy making love to a mermaid-haired beauty.
Football highlights. Perfect. There’s nothing about football which will make me think of Malia, and I hate the sport enough that it will send me to sleep. Plus, I’m still sober enough to keep one ear open for trouble.
Let’s do this. I settle back into the cushions, pull a blanket over me and resolutely ignore the bottle of Scotch taunting me from the table.
I don’t know how much time passes or what wakes me, but when I open my eyes I’m slumped sideways on the couch, staring at an empty bottle of scotch and there’s no football on the TV anymore.
I groan and sit up, stretching out my tight muscles. This couch is fucking uncomfortable to sleep on. God knows how Cove’s been doing it without complaint. I’ll have to send him back to his bed tomorrow. Malia can stay in my room from now on. It’s not like I’ll be using it anymore.
Nature calls and so I make for the stairs, only stumbling a little over one of Bhodi’s discarded shoes. He’s a filthy animal, I swear. Reef is much more like me, and even Cove is pretty tidy, but Bhodi is a slob. Always leaving his shit lying around.
I glare at the empty space where I tripped. No shoes. That’s so odd. I shake my head to clear my blurry vision and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. I’ve drank way more than a bottle of scotch before and never felt this bad. My movements are heavy and slow. Sluggish.
Reaching the bathroom, I do my business and then wash my hands. Catching sight of myself in the mirror, I wince. I look rough. Like I’ve downed ten bottles, not one. Jesus, I need to get a grip.
Back in the hallway I waver. Turn right and go back downstairs to the god awful sofa? Or left, to Malia’s warmth and a comfy bed? One of these choices is a no-brainer. One is absolute suicide.
It’s no choice at all really.Just call me Hobson. I snort at the reference no-one would get if I said it out loud and climb the stairs. I don’t pause or hesitate with my hand on the door this time, I push it open and peer into the dark. The moon is shining brightly through the window, illuminating Malia splayed out on her back in my bed. I swear she’s in the exact same position I left her in, even down to the headphones still covering her ears.
There. You’ve checked on her. She’s fine. Time to leave.
I don’t leave though. I take a step closer, then another and another. I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I’m right beside her bed.Mybed.
Staring down at her, I have to wonder if we’ve got things right. She doesn’t look like the saviour of the world. Two worlds. She looks like a scared and broken girl, looking for love.
She looks likemysaviour.
Careful so as not to disturb her, I reach out and remove her headphones, the soft music reaching my ears. I know this song. It’s that artist I’ve been obsessed with ever since Cove mentioned Malia liked her. Ruelle. I think we’ve all been listening to her stuff on repeat, but this song, ‘Somebody Else’, spoke to me more than the others.
I wonder if it’s one Malia knows. Does she know the lyrics sum up exactly how I feel about her? That I’d willingly bleed for her, even if she isn’t the star? That I’m already torn in pieces wondering how I’m going to leave her.
I’m not this guy. I don’tcare. I take my job seriously; I guard it with my life. I don’t know what she’s done to me. It’s an inexplicable pull that keeps bringing me back to her, no matter how much I try to stay away.
As the final lines of the song come through, I agree wholeheartedly. I know I should leave, but I can’t. I spy her phone on the comforter and reach for it to turn off the music, then place the phone and the headphones on the bedside table. I should go.
But she looks so peaceful, sleeping in the moonlight.
Like Cove’s room, mine doesn’t have any curtains either. But for a different reason. Cove loves the view of the ocean. But I’m seduced by the stars. They’re the same in this world as at home, and I can’t seem to let that go. It’s the closest thing to comfort I could find…before Malia.
I draw my eyes from the sky and back to the beauty sleeping soundly in my bed. The tiniest hint of a frown mars her brow, and I’ve reached out to smooth it away before I know what I’m doing. Her breathing hitches and I freeze, terrified and hopeful that I’ve woken her.
A small contented sigh leaves her lips and I breathe again. That was too close. If she wakes, if she finds me here, I don’t know what will happen. It’s already proving impossible to tear myself away. If she’s awake to give me the green light, I might never let her go.
I should leave.
I should stay.She’shome, not some stuffy empty palace or distant land you can barely recall.
My loyalty is to my queen.
Your queen has been missing for decades. It’s time to make a new girl your queen. You already call her princess, that can’t be a coincidence.
