Once Upon A Time [BxB]

Chapter Eighteen: Comfort

If you told me from five months ago that I would be waking up in the crown prince's sheets, I would have called you insane. But here I was, snuggling in the silk with a smile on my face, and finally away from the people I was supposed to call family.

"You're awake."

I slowly opened my eyes to find Christopher sitting beside me with a smile. His hair was a mess, sticking up in different directions. There were dark circles under his eyes, but it was no match to the joyful and content glimmer in his eyes.

"Mhm," I hummed, inching closer to him.

"The doctors healed you while you were asleep," Christopher said.

"Magic?"

"Yes. Our kingdom only uses it for healing, and sometimes at battle," he explained. "It was wonderful watching the streams of gold heal all of your wounds. You have no idea how worried I was."

"You were worried?" I asked.

Christopher kissed my forehead before sighing. "Of course I was. I looked all over the kingdom for you."

I smiled, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," he replied.

I sat up and leaned against the gold headboard, turning towards the prince. My dirty rags were replaced by a soft nightshirt. I had no pants.

I blushed at the realization.

Christopher must have noticed because he chuckled, "Do not worry. The doctors used magic to change your clothes. Especially since it was sticking to your open wounds."

"Oh," I replied.

"What is it?" he asked.

I shook my head, "It's nothing. It's just... how long have I been asleep?"

"Two days," Christopher answered. I nodded and cleared my throat before the rest of my questions poured out.

"And what about the animals?"

"They have their own room," Christopher said. I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. "Yes, even the mice."

"That's good," I replied after a minute.

My eyes darted around the prince's bedroom. Candles were lit around the spacious room, making the gold on the walls shine. They were clean, not a speck of dust present, and the reflection of the furniture close-by was clear as day. I looked above me and gasped.

The roof of Christopher's bedroom was a painting. There were angels and heroes and plants of all sorts. The fine details of the painting were my favorite, like the carefully painted petals of the hydrangeas in one of the corners and the fluffy feathers so intricate I could see the stems.

"Do you like it?"

My focus switched to Christopher, who was staring at the roof. The flames of the candles reflected on his eyes. He looked back at me with a small smile.

"Yeah. It's very beautiful," I replied.

"My grandparents designed it," he explained. "It was a welcome home gift when I returned from boarding school."

"You must have loved each other very much," I said.

"I did."

Christopher and I took another few minutes to stare at the painted roof. It was silent, but it was the kind of silence that expressed our happiness in a way that the simple words 'I love you' could not.

My smile grew when I felt the prince's fingers intertwine in mine. The familiar warmth traveled up my arm, like the streams of fire on gasoline. I squeezed Christopher's hand and he squeezed back, a reassurance that we were together again, and this time I would not leave.