~ALISON
It was eight in the morning.
My hands tightened around the edges of the tray upon which, his highness' breakfast sat; an omelette with very hot tea. According to his mother, it'll be good for his health.
Then I drew in a very long breath to ease the anxiety that was slowly creeping up within me.
I reached for the door with one hand and slowly turned the knob. I stepped in and stood there, rigid, like a tree with firm roots planted in the soil.
He strode in casually from his bathroom with one towel hanging low on his thin waist and the other, wrapped around his hair.
He turned in my direction and my heart stopped. Why the hell was I so affected by his presence?
"Are you just going to stand there?" He asked and returned his attention to picking out his clothes for the day.
I pursed my lips and steeled my heart, walked over to the bed side table and put the tray down. Without saying a word, I turned and left.
