The mere sight of her from a distance always had his heart slamming even faster, and now that she was right in front of him words couldn’t describe how he felt. His body simply kept shaking like he was gonna go off anytime soon.
"Well, well, well... If it isn’t his Majesty," The love of his life said drunkenly. Her breath reeked of alcohol, but her spicy scent was still thick, if not thicker now. It filled his lungs with satisfaction and longing, telling him how much he had missed it.
How much he had missed her. And yet, he couldn’t seem to raise a hand and touch her. He was too anxious, too nervous. Touching her might be too much for him right now. He was afraid he might burst into tears if he even tries to touch her.
Raziah blinked several times as if trying to make out a figure she could comprehend. Some part of her couldn’t believe it was Aragon, and she was thinking she was losing her mind and starting to hallucinate. But the drunken part of her kept smiling as she struggled to keep her balance on her feet.
"What?" She smiled lazily, pointing at him, "You look exactly like him. Do you know what that means?!" She murmured sadly, pouting while pressing her fist against her chest, "Do you, hm, hmm?"
Aragon breathed, a heavy feeling on his chest, "What...does it mean?"1
"It means you...," And she stumbled on her feet, reeling backward when his hands came up and held her steady by the waist. He couldn’t believe how much he trembled harder when he touched her. It felt like he was spinning at first, and he was completely vulnerable and weak against it. Raziah smiled again, "You’re touching me...You...you..."
With that, he glanced at the bottle she had almost finished and back at her. It looks like she can’t hold her liquor, and she was very drunk. Through her silly smiles, he could see something so heartbreaking and shattering in her eyes that he almost gulped at the sight. The Cold that usually filled her eyes had lessened greatly.
"I hate you!" She exclaimed, not glaring at him.
"I know," He remarked softly, smiling at her.
"No..." And she smiled again like a child, "I don’t hate you...No, no no..." She shook her head and rolled her index finger as if to make her statement stronger with the action involved, "I don’t hate Aragon..." Her lips formed a thin line, and you could see a small smile but a hidden pain behind it all, "Not at all. I can’t..."
"Why... don’t you hate him anymore?"
"Because I like him!" She grinned from ear to ear, "He’s very likable you see... I want to go and see him, but... that would be stupid of me. Look at me! I’m a divorced ill woman with nothing to do but cling to my hallucinations!" She giggled lightly, hurt and cracks lacing her tone. She could already feel her throat burning up from the pain.
Aragon’s eyes narrowed. What did she mean by ill? Even though she was looking fine on the outside, he started looking around for body for any sign of where the illness was coming from. That was when he noticed how many layers of Gown she was wearing. At first, he thought they might have made her wear it to keep her warm since she’s always cold, but then he focused properly...and heard something.
"Come..." She took his hand and pulled him with her. She walked in front, feeling saturated, "You’re here...I’m here...hmm hmmm," She hummed in a feathery voice as they headed somewhere and found themselves inside the royal kitchen.
"Look at those!" She refused to let go of his hand, dragging them to the line of utensils and cutlery, "When I was a child, Savannah would always warn me not to touch those." Raziah giggled like a little child and whispered cunningly back at Aragon, "I never listened to her!"
"Who is Savannah?"
Raziah paused, then whirled her head backward, "My beautiful, wonderful, Lovely, brave..." She was slurring and dragging every word she said, then suddenly burped.
A loud burp.
A loud silence ensured between them, and Raziah’s face transformed from that of shock to laughter. She burst out heavily, laughing like someone had turned on her laughing buttons. Her teeth were in full display, and a beautiful sound kept emitting out of her throat.
When he tried to smile at her, he could only see tears building up. His body was shaking almost to the point where he was about to start shuddering in extreme anxiety. The Joy that filled her eyes touched him so hard he was finding it hard to stand. Tears rolled down his eyes effortlessly.
"Raziah..." He managed to call her name, and she stopped laughing when she saw the tears.
"Olive?" She cupped his head with worry swirling in her eyes, "You...Was it something I did?" And she hugged him tight, her hands running into his thick hair and feeling his scalp.
It shook with so much fear, some much pain, emotions surging from within as he raised both hands and softly touched her back with each finger fearing she might just disappear, fearing he might suddenly wake up and see that he hadn’t yet mustered to courage to come and see her and it was all a dream. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎
As she welcomed his touch, he gently wrapped his hands around her waist and buried his watery eyes into the cocoon, the embrace and sweet fragrance of her neck, crying even harder.
"I’m here... Don’t cry... But cry, you can cry...I can cry too. We can both cry, it’s fine to cry." She held onto him, feeling his distress slowly and surely reducing gradually. She rubbed his back, massaged his scalp softly, and hugged him tighter till she was sure he was breathing properly again and there was no sound of him crying any longer.
He had scared her. Him crying wasn’t a good thing for her. His pain was her pain.
"I would do anything to ease it," She whispered, "Anything..." And she pressed a cold kiss to his neck.
"You’re...drunk..." He told her.
"Am I?" She asked, still feeling a little tipsy.
He nodded, "Yes, you’re drunk and... Pregnant,"
She rolled her eyes, not believing him at all, "You’re funny, Olive." Raziah pulled back to look into his eyes, praying not to wake up from the beautiful dream she was having. If her drunkenness had caused her to fall asleep and dream about him, she would like to have a drink or two from now on any time she was going to bed.
"Even if I were pregnant, it’s not like I’ve slept with Any other man apart from you." She slurred again, grinning like she was very proud of herself.
Aragon who had been holding a breath back released it when he heard those words. With how much her stomach was looking through the clothes and the steady heartbeat he could bear coming from it, he was very sure that pregnancy must be about seven months if he were to calculate it using the number of months humans use to reproduce.
He thought someone might have somehow gotten through to her even before they had gotten married, but then...how was he just noticing it now? It made no sense!
Wait a minute, Who then owned the baby?!
"You’re looking blue..." She cocked her head to one side, studying him, "Shall I make you blush so you can turn red?" She sounded so serious that it wiped away his distress for a moment and made him smile.
"It’s working..." She drawled, looking happy, "Did I ever tell you how handsome you’re? When I first saw you, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. You’re unbelievably perfect for a man, I feel for other men, I try not to pity them but I can’t help it. Your eyes not only tell a beautiful story but their radiance and warmth would have everything around it trapped in them. Your lashes are like dusty glistening curled carpets, welcoming, that lead to those eyes. Your lips are full, beautiful, and pitch with a sexy heart shape. You have extremely alluring long hair, a well-defined chiseled face, and strong jaws with the perfect set of teeth. Your skin is flawless, strong, and rigid. You’re an embodiment of something beyond perfect. And your heart...From what I’ve seen...it’s brutal, it’s traumatized, it’s scarred heavily, it’s haunted...and it still beats just fine. It’s no one else’s to control but you. You didn’t let them define it, you defined it in your own devious ways. Your Own Way. Good or bad, I do not think there are hearts out there more beautiful than that,"
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