Chapter 17 : gala

Drake's fine.

His family and he had a row which led to him being grounded for a while. He's still the same obnoxious sadist I've grown to adore as he was two months ago.

It'll be my birthday in a few days.

The palace wants to make a big deal out of it and apparently I have no say in the matter since I'm not an adult!

And my bastard of a tutor just gave his approval and patted my shoulder saying, "you could do with a break; a party is the perfect way to go about it!"

I mean, it's true but I don't want that bubbly fool to be right!

Gah.

They made me get a tailor made suit but the top is like a dress in the back. Like a tail coat.

Why can't I just wear my usual garb of goddess gifted robes?

Geh.

Drake is getting a kick out of my discomfort.

Has been for days.

Sadistic butthole.

His whole family is here; mother, father, sister... Dayan is interesting.

Just like her brother.

She's pretty too, with the same golden hair but she has blue eyes. Very blue eyes. Vixen.

I like her.

Ahh, I'm dancing now.

I hate dancing.

And I haven't even gotten to dance with drake yet.

I danced with Sheri and Irene before being carted off into a jungle of people vying for my attention.

I hate it.

They push and pull, voices overlap, perfumes that certainly don't mesh together make me feel sick, and I can feel hands brushing against me.

I need air.

I start actively trying to get away from the mob I've found myself in; breath quickening when Drake appears and grabs my hand,

Leading me towards the terrace.

Like a knight in shining armor...or well, in a suit.

My hero.

My golden sun.

My golden boy.

I think I love him.

Goddess, I've become cheesy in my old age.

I blush as I realized We've stopped. We're outside. The air is chilly but I don't want to let go of his hand, not yet.

Drake sighs and I flinch.

Don't leave me.

And suddenly my vision is obscured by a body; drake's body. He's done something I never thought he would...he hugged me.

On my goddess.

Are his muscles really this firm?

We spend too much time together for him to have more muscle mass than I! Damn golden person. I'm not jealous. Nope.

"Are you pouting?" Drake asks, seemingly amused?

"Nope," I tell him, popping the "P".

"You are." He states, grinning cockily at me.

"Are you going senile in your old age, Drake?" I ask him seriously...in a jeering voice.

What even IS a jeering voice? Goddess, I miss googling.

He laughs and clutched his heart.

"Harsh. I'm wounded, Antonio," he jokes, his voice, strange. Accented.

How odd.

"You'll live," I scoff, crossing my arms.

"Yes, I will."

He laughs when I pout—not pout, I don't pout.

When I...scowl. Yes, scowl.

That's better. More mature. I am mature. I am a mature fourteen-year-old. Yeah.

...Or am I thirteen?

Twelve?

Ten?

FIfteen?

Meh.

"...wanna dance?" I asked him long after he stopped laughing, simply enjoying the mirth dancing in his eyes.

He raises an eyebrow before grabbing my arms and spinning me around—garnering a feminine Yelp to escape my mouth.

Damn. Wait, darn. Darn. Innocent baby teen.

No cursing.

"I hate you," I mutter once I get my bearings.

"No, you don't." He rebutted.

No, I don't. I...love you, golden boy.

"Yes," I reply, a false conviction in my voice.

He merely raises an eyebrow.

I can't do that yet. Damn him. No, darn him.

Goddess, I hate censoring myself. And these are my thoughts.

Oh, we're spinning again...I might be getting sick. Fuck.

Gah! Wait! Fudge! My Brian and I meant fudge! ...Brian? I guess I've named my brain, Brian. Brian the brain. Heh. Off topic.

...What was the topic again?

Oh, right-- Fudge it! I am a thirteen to fourteen (I don't remember my age anymore,) almost thirty-two years old! I can very well curse if I want to! The goddess even allows it!

So. Damn him!

"I love you," he says suddenly into the silent night, jarring me from my erratic thoughts.

...

What?

"...Huh?" My voice cracks. And squeaks. And, literally every other awkward and surprising sound a voice can do in adolescence.

"You heard me." He smiles, but it's a hesitant smile, full of nervousness.

He's not joking.

"...You love me?"

He huffs and gives me a real smile, a happy smile, and nods whilst making an affirmative sound.

"I want to hear you say it again,"

And so he did.

He said three little words, three simple words that strung together make one of the greatest sentences a human can say.

'I love you'.

And my heart bursts, from joy, from surprise. My eyes fail me, as they cloud with tears, and I can feel them falling, and I can see Drake wiping my cheeks with his stupidly perfect thumbs. Seriously, who is so perfect that even their hands could make a beautiful goddess jealous?!

I made a distressed sound in the back of my throat, and gripped his collar, raising my body up to meet his height, because he's a stupidly tall person.

And I did the one thing I could think of in response to this sudden gift; this blessing he had given me.

I kissed him, and it was wonderful.

His lips were chapped, and hesitant, but so were mine. This was my first kiss, and It was perfect.

There was no tongue, and it was a closed mouth kiss, but it was sweet, and the start to something new, something precious.

I kissed him, and I knew, I knew, I love him.

I love my golden boy.