Chapter Two: In the back pocket of her jeans

The smell of apple and vanilla filled my nostrils and I inhaled deeply, basking in the sun. The people hustled and bustled around, tears in the eyes of some. It had been two months since there was life in the Kingdom. Two months since the death of the former king, King Macauley Dirk, my grandfather.

Half of the time I knew him he was smoking from a large brown pipe, as loony as one can be, but he was a good king. A great king, in fact. The Kingdom mourned for a lot longer than usual, and this was the first time in two months that the local market was open and honestly... it was a breath of fresh air.

Literally.

The Souths' last attack was what killed my grandfather, and father was extremely paranoid. So we couldn't leave the house or walk around the Castle without a walkie talkie in our hands. Father had begged me before I even considered it, with death knocking on his door, I decided to humor him by listening to him. I hated the Kingdom, but I knew I had responsibilities. Fortunately for me, I didn't have to prove myself to anyone to be respected.

They all feared me.

As I entered the commoners' graveyard, my nose turned up. Grandfather decided he wanted to be buried with the commoners for reasons unknown to me, to be honest, but we had to respect his wishes. I waked up to the grave, reading the tombstone, and I sighed.

The good ones always leave too early.

My eyes noticed movement and snapped to see a girl sitting in front of a grave. Her head was tilted up and her eyes were tightened like she was physically in pain. I was transfixed, for some reason. She wasn't short, but she wasn't as tall as I was. She was wearing a white floral crop top and blue jeans and from the way she sat on her legs, every single curve she had was outlined, and believe me, she had a good number. I could only see a part of her face, and something about her screamed power.

I liked that.

I liked that very much.

I stepped on a branch when I unknowingly moved forward, and she shot up, her eyes still on the grave. Then slowly, like a movie scene, she moved her head, and our eyes met. Her eyes shone in the sun, a bewitching green. The eyes that dominated my dreams. For a moment I was seven again, in the park with my best friend in the world.

I was happy. I was good. I was perfect. Not the monster I had become. Tears stung my eyes as I fought to maintain a stoic expression. Don't be a sissy. I could literally hear her words in my head, so loud and clear. She looked at me with distaste and what looked like disappointment, but I didn't look away.

I was drawn to her. There is no other explanation for the reason why it felt like a magnetic pull, like I needed to get closer to her. Her lips stretched into a sardonically sadistic smile, and she tilted her head, amusement and hatred dancing around in her eyes.

Why Elianna, why?

It had to be a hallucination, a coping mechanism of some sort. There was no was she was here. Spending so much time in the house must have been making me see things.

After all these years... Elianna. No.

I couldn't let her leave this time. I took a step forward, and she took one back, despite the distance between us. A flash of fear crossed her eyes as quickly as it came, and my scowl deepened was she scared of me too?

I snapped out of my thoughts when I finally realized I was standing in front of my grandfather's tombstone, and that guards were intently staring at me. Carefully, I placed the bouquet of flowers down, and had my moment well, second, of silence. I hope you're happy wherever you are Grandfather. Memories washed past me as I remembered the days where he would sit me down while my siblings played and teach me how to be a king.

By the time I stood up properly, all I could see was her retreating form. The pain was unbearable.

Elianna.

Elianna.

Elianna.

"Elianna." My voice wasn't even above a whisper, and the wind carried her name with it. I stared at the spot she was for a few seconds, then read the tombstone.

Damon Willis- A beloved father, friend, brother and husband.

Damon Willis? I racked my brain, looking for recognition of the name, but I couldn't figure it out. Damon Willis. I'd heard the name before, but I couldn't quite get it.

Elianna had to give me answers. She couldn't disappear into this air. No, not again. I walked on the Royal pathway that led straight to where the cars were parked, glad I didn't have to touch noisy and sweaty people, then I saw a figure in my peripheral vision.

I turned my head to stare at her properly, noticing the tortured look in her face. She was just standing there.

Unmoving.

My feet stopped, and I watched her. Then I saw the head lights. A truck raced down the road, headed a way and my feet moved on their own. I bolted towards her like my life depended on it, because to some extent, it did. Her name sang like a broken record in my head, over and over again.

Elianna.

Elianna

ELIANNA!!!

"Elianna!" I yelled her name, inched away from her. I pushed her away from the road, falling along with her. Her skin pressed against mine. Her head was tilted to the side, as she watched the truck race past where she was standing a few moments before. She slowly turned her head and met my eyes. All I could hear was my harsh breathing, and I could see her chest moving up and down. I supported myself with on my arms with her caged in between them. I stared at her and immediately saw it.

The emptiness.

It wasn't Elianna.

Not my Elianna.

I stood up quickly, dusting off my jeans, and I looked at her. She got up too, not even wincing- considering her back was forcefully pushed against the floor. I urged myself to move but I couldn't. She lifted her head to look me in the eyes, but the anger had taken over. I hated her. I hated her for what she did to me, who she was, and how beautiful she'd become.

I hate you, Elianna.

People were staring at us, and the damage finally dawned on me. I had to leave. So I did exactly that, knowing she would find exactly what I wanted her to.

In the back pocket of her jeans.