The Lap Pillow

LIBRARIES WERE MEANT to be silent. That was the golden rule Alice had grown up knowing. As a result of this rule, she had seen people napping on the public library's couches and at their tables one too many times. It had become such a norm for the world that Alice had forgotten that sleep was meant to be enjoyed in one's private bedroom instead of in the public's eye where the tables served other purposes.

"Wyatt?" Alice called out, inwardly debating with herself on whether she should wake him up.

The youth had woken up early in the morning, a usual for him, as Alice had come to realize. Wyatt always rose early in the morning to complete his work, keeping himself locked and busy in his personal study before grabbing a quick lunch with Charlie and her. For breakfast, he would always eat no more than a sandwich or a few slices of fruit, preferring to use the time spent eating on his work than on leisure. That afternoon, he had rushed his work extra quickly so as to squeeze some time to head out into town with Alice. As a result, he must've been behind schedule to have been kept so late in the palace by the crown prince.

On the table, Wyatt was blissfully asleep. His eyelids were closed, snowy white lashes fluttered shut and resting on the skin right beneath his eye. As he slept, his shoulders rose and fell with each tranquil breath, not even a single snore could be heard from him. Even when slumped over a desk with work piled all around him and books scattered on the floor by his chair, Wyatt Ragan was still the picture of perfect elegance like he was raised to be.

If Alice had to put a name to his appearance, Wyatt looked like an ice prince with his snowy white hair and fair skin. However, his personality was furthest from that. From what Alice could infer, Wyatt was as warm as a fire, always bursting with sparkling light and igniting heat on young maidens' cheeks with his flirtatious words.

She was sure that there was more to Wyatt than what meets the eye but she wasn't able to put it into words. Was Wyatt suspicious? Was he secretly nefarious? Should Alice fully trust him? Those were all questions she couldn't answer at the moment.

In the flickering orange glow of the lighted lamp, Wyatt's hair took on a faint yellowish-gold hue. As the fine strands of hair reflected the fire's light like strings of gossamer from a delicately woven web, Alice felt her hand gravitating towards him. An unexplainable feeling washed over her, flooding her with the temptation of reaching out and just running her fingers through those silky tresses.

"My, is my dear Alice being awfully daring for once?"

A voice jolted Alice out of her daydream, her hand quickly retracting in shock. Reflexively, she took a step back, moving away from Wyatt. Unfortunately, as she had stepped back without looking at where she was headed, her feet landed on a book that was carelessly strewn on the floor, causing her to lose her balance. She landed on the floor before she even realized she was falling, a resounding thud echoing through the quiet library.

"Ah…" Alice groaned, rubbing at her no doubt bruised behind. "That hurt."

"Surely it did." Looking up, Alice's face reddened as her gaze crashed into that of a pair of ruby-colored eyes. Wyatt observed her with a faint amused smile, his head still resting on his folded arms on the table. When their line of sight finally connected with each other's, he raised his head from the table, stretching a hand out for Alice to take. "Are you quite alright?"

Embarrassment colored her cheeks in saturated tones of red. The more Wyatt smiled at her, the more she wanted to dig a hole right through the floors to bury her head under.

"Yes." Placing her hand in Wyatt's, she allowed herself to be pulled up by him. Once she was steady on her feet again, she patted down her skirt, combing her tousled hair back. The book that she had tripped over was now safely in her hands, no longer the danger hazard it once was. "Sorry you had to see that."

"There's no need to apologize when you've done nothing wrong." Wyatt's index finger was against his lips, touching them slightly as he chuckled at her words. "You're absolutely adorable, Alice."

Leaning back against his seat, Wyatt's eyes followed Alice as she settled down in the nearest chair adjacent to him. She had placed the book back on the table, careful to make a distinct separation between those owned by the palace and those owned by the Ragans.

"You jest again, Wyatt." Alice wrinkled her nose, fine lines appearing on her nose bridge. "What are you doing here so late? Wouldn't it be better for you to rest in your own room?"

"Ah." Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish all of a sudden. "That… Actually, I fell asleep by accident. I was supposed to be finishing up on a report that I didn't manage to complete in the palace. I didn't feel like working in the office so I came to the library instead."

"Did you just return?"

Wyatt nodded. "About an hour ago, perhaps? But my work is far from done," he confessed. Sighing, he idly rearranged the scattered documents on the desk. Thankfully, the ink had long dried before he had fallen asleep. If not, blotches of ink would no doubt already be spotted on his face. "What are you doing here then, Alice? Unable to fall asleep?"

"The day had been rather eventful." Scratching her cheek, looking slightly abashed.

"Oh, yes. I heard that Prince Spade, of all people, asked you out for dinner. My, I had to admit that I was rather stupefied when I received the news from one of the palace guards that our poor Alice had been kidnapped into town with an unknown time of return." Wyatt pouted. "But the crown prince had assured me that you would return safe and sound. Thankfully, he was right. If not, I would have to report my grievances to the royal court."

"Wyatt…"

"Lighten up a little, Alice." Chortling merrily, Wyatt reached out, his gloved fingers gently grazing Alice's cheek in a feather-light touch. "It's not nice to constantly frown when you have such a beautiful face."

Wyatt's touch lingered longer than it should. His fingers rested against Alice's skin without signs of detaching itself. Alice, on the other hand, wasn't sure if she should move away. A part of her wanted to wait and see what Wyatt would do when left to his own devices.

Ultimately, they still parted, Wyatt being the first to draw back. Even though his skin was pale and the amount of light present was enough to show distinct facial expression changes, Wyatt remained seemingly unmoved other than his usual amorous grin.

"I'm a little tired, actually," he admitted softly, his voice a little hoarse. That coquettish smirk also eased into a simple serene smile. A little careful, even. "Can I be so bold as to request a favor from you?"

Alice gulped. "What can I help you with?"

"Can I borrow your lap to serve as a pillow? I'm in need of a quick nap."

In her chest, Alice's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't a big deal for her since it was something she had done before in her normal time. However, she hadn't thought that a nobleman brought up with the ideals of the eighteenth century would be so bold as to ask such a thing from a lady of unknown origins.

"Alright then." Ultimately, she steeled her nerves, tucking all her unseemly suspicions away to the back of her mind.

"Perfect."

Gently intertwining their fingers together, Wyatt led Alice to one of the couches placed near the tables right in front of a bookshelf. The couch was a three-seater, meant to accommodate more than its smaller counterpart but when Wyatt lied down, it became obvious that even a spacious couch like that wasn't enough for his height. With his head nestled on Alice's lap, Wyatt's legs were bent at the knees so as to fit into the couch comfortably. It looked awfully cramped for him and once again, Alice wondered what was the appeal in sleeping in a library instead of his own comfortable room.

"Are you sure you would rather sleep here instead of going back to your bedroom?" Alice asked. "It looks uncomfortable."

"Are you suggesting that you'll serve as a pillow for me in my bedroom as well?" Wyatt countered.

At his words, Alice's blood boiled hot, her cheeks blooming crimson instantly. With an increased heart rate, she could feel herself getting more and more flustered, suddenly hyper-aware of the ambiguous position they were in.

"No, of course not!" She squeaked out, panicked. "Why would I—"

Before she could even finish her protest, Wyatt was snickering. His shoulders quaked as he did so, shaking the couch cushions a little.

"Then I'd rather be here instead." Shifting himself so as to find a comfortable position, Wyatt sighed under his breath once he was snug. His voice, when used again, was barely even a whisper. Even the winds outside from the storm were louder than him. "Good night, Alice."

As his breathing evened out, Alice could no longer mask the temptation. Her left hand, which had been unable to find an appropriate spot to rest on other than the one armrest on her right, eventually found its way onto Wyatt's head. Her fingers threaded themselves into his silky hair, lightly combing through the fine strands.

"Goodnight, Wyatt."