20. Prince Cole
Chapter 20
Prince Cole
“There is never a time or place for true love.
It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat,
in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”
— Sarah Dessen
I ’ve been watching her sleep for hours. On any other occasion, I might worry that I was being a total creep, but I can’t physically bring myself to take my eyes off her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
It’s a special kind of suffering, holding her like this. The kind that’s both exquisite and agonizing.
Davina’s chest rises and falls in a slow rhythm, and I find myself matching my breath to hers as if it will somehow ease the knot in my chest. But it doesn’t. If anything, it only makes it worse. Seeing her collapse was one thing, but watching her for days, waiting for her to open her defiant eyes? That’s a different torment altogether.
I’d love to deny it, but knowing one’s own weaknesses is an ability only a few can wield, and Davina becoming a weakness of mine is painstakingly obvious.
There’s no escaping it, no pretending otherwise.
She has become a crack in the armor I’ve spent years perfecting. And once that crack appears, it’s only a matter of time before the whole thing shatters.
Every time I close my eyes, I see her collapsing all over again. The image of her like this haunts me, and a wave of horror rolls through me, clawing up my throat until I can hardly breathe.
Slowly and carefully, I slip away from her, even though every instinct tells me to hold her tighter. I gently place her head on one of my pillows, my fingers lingering in her hair longer than they should.
Reluctantly, I step away and open the window, desperate for a breath of cool air to clear my head. With a sigh, I run a hand through my hair, doing little to tame it. Moonlight spills through the window, casting a gentle glow over her features, and I wonder how someone so fierce could look so fragile.
I’m torn between the urge to leave the room and protect myself from vulnerability, and the desire to lie down beside her and feel her warmth once more.
There’s something about her that makes it nearly impossible for me to think of anything other than being close to her.
“Who would have thought,” she breaks the silence, her eyes soft and half-lidded, “that you’re almost tolerable when you’re not trying to ruin my life.”
“Why, the highest praise I’ve received all week.”
Her lips curve slightly—not quite a smile, but something close. Her eyes linger on me, and for once, there’s no hostility in them. She looks surprisingly sweet when she’s not glaring daggers at me.
But just as quickly as the softness comes, it fades, replaced by that familiar glint in her eyes. “Don’t get used to it,” she says, her voice stronger now. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to annoy me before the night is over.”
“Lucky for you, I’ve decided to spare you tonight. Consider it a rare act of mercy.”
“Sorry,” she mutters. “I’m being a burden. Can’t believe you’re stuck with this mess. Must be so exhausting for you.”
“You wouldn’t know how to be a burden if your life depended on it.”
“Well, thanks for looking after me, though I know I’m only worth your trouble as long as I’m still breathing. I’m useless to you if I’m dead.”
What am I supposed to say to this?
“How do you feel?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
“Better,” she replies and pauses. “Good, actually. How did you?—”
“You should still get some rest,” I cut in, trying to avoid any questions about how I was able to take her pain away.
I’m too tired to explain myself.
“Oh, I see. Is this your way of telling me to shut up?”
“Pretty much,” I say, reaching out to close the window.
The cool night air is starting to seep into the room, and I don’t want her to catch a chill.
“Leave it open.”
“Why?” I ask, glancing at her. “It’s getting chilly in here.”
“I like the smell that comes from outside.”
“What smell?”
“The scent of flowers—” she trails off, her eyes closing.
“Still hate me?”
“Always,” she mutters, her voice barely audible as she drifts back to sleep again.
“We’ll see about that.”