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common-dace · 6 months

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ep. 113 spoilers

i am so ill about the reveal that price is captain rose’s son. the implications of this are fucking wild.

(tbh i’m not sure if rose is price’s biological dad or his stepdad, but for the purposes of this post, i’m assuming that rose was at least the most significant dad in price’s life.)

it seems that price lived with his mom for most of his childhood, then sometime around/after the hole in the sea, ran away on his own and eventually met chip. and just… holy shit. he was raised by his mom, with his dad basically completely out of the picture because he’s off doing pirate shit. maybe price knew who his father was, maybe he didn’t (i.e., that his mom kept it from him like ollie’s mom did from him). but if he knew, just imagine the resentment. your own dad choosing adventure over you, and constantly being forced to hear about all his excursions in newspapers and through word-of-mouth from travelers. rose was off becoming a literal legend, while price and his mom were left behind. and like, yeah, i’m sure rose visited. he did care for his family, and obviously his wife had to get pregnant again somehow. but each time he came back, it was never for good. he always left again and again and again, because legacy was more important than they were.

and then finally! the day comes in which rose is finally going to retire and settle down with his family. i mean, price and rose’s wife were never enough to convince rose to settle down and it took another child to do it, but hey, at least he’s coming back. until… he’s not. until rose gets swallowed by a hole in the sea - killed by the life he chose over them, killed by the life that they feared would take him, killed by the lifestyle he valued more than them. and it’s not just a tragedy and a loss for them to grieve, either - it becomes a legend, one that keeps getting rubbed in their faces day after day, year after year after year. price cannot escape the fact that his father chose piracy over him, that he was apparently not worth enough to be loved. that shit would fucking fester, enough for price to completely leave behind his life and rid himself of his father’s name.

so price runs away, ditches the last name, and starts a new life - one where he gets to call all the shots instead of being left in the dark. he’s finally in control of who he is. and then, out of nowhere, enters chip. chip, a scrawny orphan who was aboard the black rose, who will not shut up all the adventures, who got to spend more time with his dad than he ever did, who got to live the life he was never allowed to. rose was never chip’s primary caretaker but he was a father figure to him, and it must have stung like hell to meet the kid who was more of a son to your dad than you ever were. chip must have seemed like the physical manifestation of everything price should’ve had but didn’t, because he just wasn’t worth enough.

(i wonder about price’s habit of calling chip his little brother - was that just because of their time spent together or was there a deeper meaning? perhaps price found kinship in chip - another child abandoned by his father putting legacy above all else.)

price spent his entire life in the shadow of his father, feeling like he was never enough, and now that he’s finally escaped it, he finds he never really escaped it at all and he’s face-to-face with yet another scathing reminder. the resentment must have been on another fucking level. what’s interesting, though, is that price does not turn away from chip - instead, he takes him in. rather than run away from this reminder, price sees it as an opportunity - an opportunity to take part of his dad’s precious legacy and mold it into his own. price takes chip and pushes him towards violence, towards gang activity, towards murder, towards all the things rose never stood for. he tried to take a product of rose’s legacy and twist it into something rose would never be proud of. all the while, price, along with chip, is building a legacy of his own - one of power, riches, respect; one constructed without his father; one to rival the great captain rose’s.

until one day, it comes crashing down. betrayed by his pet project, who he spent years rebuilding out of the ashes of rose’s legacy; by his little brother, who he trusted and felt kinship to after both were abandoned by rose; by the reminder of his father, who still bears rose’s influence like a fucking plague. price thought he had moved past his childhood - that he was finally freed of his father’s shadow - only to find himself abandoned once again by somebody who chose a lifestyle over him. stabbed in the back by yet another pirate.

but price is no longer a child. he does not run, he is not helpless, he will not wallow in pity. instead, he lets the betrayal fester and seethe and bubble into anger. he channels it into constructing his own life and legacy - this time, truly on his own. he turns it into an oath for revenge - on chip, on his father, on pirates. he rebuilds in a new place with a new purpose, fighting tooth and nail for whatever footholds he can get, moving into darkport like a parasite, feeding off power from the people around him. he rises in the ranks as a bounty hunter, finally finding a legacy that’s all his own - one that directly fights against those goddamn pirates. they took everything from him, and he’s going to take it back.

then chip shows up in all-port again. despite how the last time went, price cannot help but see another opportunity - an opportunity for revenge, to get back at chip for his betrayal; for power, to crush his insubordination and have him under his thumb again; for legacy, to have one of the black rose pirates bow before him, quake in fear, beg for forgiveness, and recognize him as stronger than his father. the allure was too saccharine. so of course, what does price ask chip to do? to steal from roofus - to betray the black rose pirates and obey him. another shot at rose’s legacy, and another way to show how much better and more powerful he is.

except… that doesn’t happen. price finds himself, yet again, betrayed by chip. his world comes crumbing down around him, and he is forced to watch. in his eyes, chip has taken everything from him - his father, his life, his power, his legacy. he has to watch as chip continues to grow his own legacy, as chip thrives without him, as chip scorns their past and becomes the one thing price resents more than anything. and price finds himself back at the beginning - nothing but a worthless little boy, abandoned and left behind. all the while, one thought races through his head, laced with resentment and anger and pain:

that should have been me.

#i am frothing at the mouth #immensely tempted to write proper fanfic about this #jrwi riptide #jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi spoilers #jrwi reuben price #reuben price #jrwi chip #chip jrwi #jrwi captain rose #dace.txt

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angstymarshmallow · 7 years

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Star Crossed Paths - Drake x MC (A Royal Romance Fanfic)

[A little note: You know I had to write a fic after that Drake diamond scene. This is mostly chapter shenanigans and a bit of extra fluff.]

[Summary: On the night of the prince’s coronation’s ball, Riley (MC) wrestles with the idea of fate and all the adventure she’s had in Cordonia ending. Before the night can turn into dusk Drake and MC confronts their feelings for each other, defying fate or accepting fates intentions.]

Riley has never given fate much thought.

The idea that one’s life is completely set on a path, a specific path. From the beginning to end – ultimately leading to the same place, even before the beginning has ever been written.

Her mother has always taught her differently, taught her the value in where people started. Taught her that it varies from person to person and the most important part of it all is the journey; the rollercoaster of a ride up and not the ending nor its tragic fall. No, fate isn’t supposed exist.

But looking at herself in front of the mirror; Riley has come to the decision that her mother isn’t right. Frankly, she’s never been anymore wrong.

Although her story began in New York, and ultimately her journey takes her across the other side of the world; she thinks what feels as a spur of the moment decision is now the ill-timely conclusion of fate. And as she prepares to attend the coronation ball - she fears the ending.

She fears saying goodbye to it all.

All too quickly everything is beginning to change, to draw its final curtain and the stage they have played so effortlessly on will finally draw to a close. They will all take their last bow and separate. She knows this with certainty; just as simply as she understands that she cannot take a man’s hand in marriage she does not want.

She believes in the cruelty of fate as she slips inside her cherry red dress. She believes that people can’t control it as she adjusts the clasp of it and runs her fingers through the fine material. She believes she’s never been the master of her own fate – rather has spent the last decade deluding herself into thinking otherwise. As she bunches her hair into a familiar bun and paints her lips the proper colour; she believes that fate waits for no one. Listens to no one. Cares for no one.

The knock on her door jolts her from the privacy of her own thoughts. She takes one last glance at the mirror, ignoring tinges of weariness that still lingers before crossing the room briskly. She plasters on a smile. It stretches from one cheek to the other as she opens the door.

Maxwell is there. A radiant grin on his lips as he shoots her an appreciative glance. At his smile of approval, he gestures towards the direction of the hall. “All ready to go little blossom?”

Her smile wavers for a split second before she takes his outstretched arm. “Of course, I’ve been waiting.”

The ballroom floor is packed. That is her first thought as her eyes sweeps the room. Packed with the press, familiar looking faces and of course him. She avoids him first, knowing that if she doesn’t; the faltering smile may drop entirely.

She doesn’t have much time to greet Hana or Bertrand before the suitors are called to formally hand their gifts to Prince Liam. Hers had been a poem, something Maxwell had coerced her into following through. She hadn’t wanted to; she thinks poems can be too intimate. Too personal, and all she wants to do right now is get through the rest of this night.

Riley has gotten good at reading people; something important about her last job in New York but has been nearly imperative here. The nobility has the tendency to hide under cool masks, fake their expressions but their body languages all have different tells, and yet - all needlessly hidden through a veil of masks. They try to keep it all well together, transitioning what they can into smooth demeanours.

The prince is very good at that. She notices as she watches his expression. His smiles are all cordial and he says all the right things to make the other women happy. He’s charming, he’s always has been but she sees through it. She knows it’s all apart of the game.

When he stops in front of her; she sees the first real smile to ever touch his face all night. It makes her blink in surprise and sinks the guilt so far that she nearly drops it. The smile that has been faltering since she has entered the room.

“Lady Riley.” Her name is warm on his tongue, familiar and intimate. Too intimate.

Her cheeks flush as he takes her hand and presses a chaste kiss before straightening for her gift.

She says what is expected; her own way of charming people as she has so often done in bars now comes alive as she speaks. “Greetings Your Highness, I have a gift for you.”

He laughs and smiles – it is all so very genuine, while hers are all so fake.

He seems to enjoy the poem as she reads it, laughs good naturedly when she mentions that Maxwell assisted her in the choice of words. Just in case, she drops her gaze to the note inside his hand. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he shifts a little, almost close enough to raise eyebrows from the other suitors. “You are amazing Riley. You always know how to make me smile.” His voice is soft, an endearment that should make her happy, but it doesn’t.

Her smile freezes in place and she ignores the heaviness inside her chest. She hates lying; it makes her feel like a fraud but it’s only for tonight. Just tonight. She tells herself as she forces a weak smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He chuckles as he steps back, “Immensely, I had no idea you were so talented.” Her eyebrows quirk up until he adds, “so many talents I mean.”

Her shoulders shrug delicately, “I guess there’s still a lot you don’t know about me.”

His smile is dazzling, nearly blinding her. “I look forward to learning everything.”

She winces at his choice of words but he doesn’t seem to notice as he turns to the rest of the party. She is already finished with it all; ready to turn in for the night as he addresses the crowd.

The first dance has already commenced and she quickly drifts away, intending to find a drink when she spots Maxwell.

And he isn’t alone. Hana has her head slightly bowed in his direction and she approaches them quickly.

She stumbles in her heels when she notices him beside them. The man she has been trying to avoid the entire night. She’s almost tempted to turn and flee in the other direction but they’ve already seen her.

Maxwell waves her over and Hana greets her with a bright smile when she’s within earshot.

“You look so beautiful Riley,” Hana mumbles, twiddling her fingers together. “The prince won’t be able to keep his eyes off you.” Her smile dissipates though, turning into a slight frown as she glances inside her glass.

Riley blanches at the thought. Her practiced smile hurts her cheeks, “Nonsense!” She chides her friend, “looking at all the other women here – they look just as radiant as I do.” She gestures to her friend, “Especially you – you must tell me who your tailor is.” Bertrand’s lessons must be rubbing off her because almost immediately Hana sinks into a discussion about high fashion.

She hasn’t looked directly at him, but she can feel Drake’s gaze on her. Feel the intensity in his stare. Just say hi. Her body is insisting her to; but her mind knows better. One look from him is surely enough in causing her to become undone. “Hello Maxwell, Drake.” She mutters when she’s had a moment of pause.

Her eyes meet his then. They are aloof and distant; what she expects in such a public place like this. Still, it hurts to meet those eyes and not see anything but a glance of mild friendliness. Is this better? Is this easier? Her eyes challenge and she notices a flicker of something before it completely disappears from his expression.

Thankfully, the prince has stalked by their small group. His eyes alight with innate warmth as he bows. “Lady Riley, Lady Hana.” He breaks into a grin at the sight of Drake. “I’ve been looking for you all night – where’ve you been?”

“Around.” Drake shrugs but Riley doubts his one word answer is impressing anyone.

“May I have this dance Lady Riley?” Desperate to retrieve herself out of this awkward situation, she gratefully grasps his outstretched palm and follows him to the dance floor.

At first, neither of them speak as another song begins. His hand on her waist feels odd, unfamiliar even though months ago all she could think about was them. It’s funny how months of getting to know someone else has changed so much of what she thinks of him.

They dance close, the Cordonian waltz isn’t known for space. It’s intimate, and she refuses to meet his eyes as they twirl gracefully across the floor.

“You’ve been practicing.”

His comment startles her. “Hmm?”

“I said you’ve been practicing.”

A slight laugh, “Ah yes, we’ve just had so many balls. It would be strange if I haven’t learned simple Cordonian customs by now.” She smiles thinly.

“Of course, you’ll have to excuse me. I forget how long the social season is.”

“No harm done, you are the prince after all. I’m sure you’ve got bigger concerns.” She began conversationally, “And to think – a few short months ago I knew nothing about waltzing or even being a proper lady.” She teases.

“And now, no one would ever know that you weren’t born into this life.”

His comment is meant to make her smile. She’s sure of that but it doesn’t. Instead, her stomach grows anxious and she laughs awkwardly. Guilt pricks at her, like a needle waiting to sting if gripped wrong. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Prince Liam. There are other suitors that are far better at all of this than me.”

His eyes widen in surprise before quickly smoothening over. “Of course,” he draws her closer before extending his arm for her to smoothly go through it. “I just hope you’re having fun.”

“Having fun?” She repeats, brows quirking in surprise.

“Yes, I –” He pauses before his lips presses into a small frown. “I hope you never have cause to regret coming here.”

It’s as if he can finally see through the veil she’s been wearing the entire night. As he studies her expression, she tries to appear shocked by his note of concern. “Why would you think that? What makes you think I’m not having the time of my life?”

“It’s just…so much has happened in so little time, and-” He stops short to search her eyes as the song finally stops.

She hopes her smile will hold. She hopes his words won’t break it. When she tries to step back, she’s aware of his gentle hand by her waist tightening. He wants to say something – she thinks to herself, eyes widening as she glances up to stare at him.

“I need to talk to you.”

The edge of despair in his voice, startles her. It makes her stand a little taller and study him. Has she been wrong this entire time? Can she read him as quickly as she has always been able to read other people? “Is…there something wrong?”

Before he can respond, Olivia has already saddled up next to them. She places her hand on his arm, and shoves herself in the middle of them.

Riley steps back involuntarily as Oliva regards her with a sharp smile. It turns nearly sweet once she sweeps her gaze to Liam. “Prince Liam, may I be so bold as to cut in?”

Whatever sadness twists his face, veils quickly into a surprised smile. “Oh of course.”

Riley can’t help but feel unsettled by the sudden interruption. Even if she doesn’t have the same fondness for Liam, knowing he’s struggling with something compels her better nature to offer help. He’s her friend, even if he doesn’t know it – she wants to lend him comfort that the other women won’t be able to. “We’ll…talk later?” She trails off as Olivia begins to tug him in the opposing direction.

“Uh, yes!” He says simply. He gives her an apologetic smile before allowing Olivia to escort him.

Riley watches a few seconds longer before skimming the room. She has lost sight of the rest of her friends, and as she turns to leave she slams into a hard chest.

Startled, she glances up the same time that he glances down. His hands shot out to steady her. “Riley.”

“Drake,” She mumbles back. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

His eyebrows draws up short before she rambles on, “I mean I saw you here. But what I mean is,” she bites the inside of her cheek. Get it together Tinsely. “I mean here. On the floor.”

He shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “Liam sort of insisted.”

Ah, he wouldn’t have ever won that argument with his friend.

“I guess I should be congratulating you.”

His tone sounds off, more surly than usual. Except there’s pain behind it too. Her eyes widen, “Oh? Why’s that?” Unless she’s mistaken; there’s no winner for Liam’s hand yet.

His eyes are almost bitter as they gaze down at her. “You look exactly like one of them now.” He laughs shortly with not real mirth, “I guess you are one of them now.” His words are cutting, snide.

If his intention is to hurt her, he’s doing a fairly easy job. Her lower lip quivers before she chides herself for it. She hasn’t spent the last several months here to be broken down by a simple jab. She forces a smile, “No matter how long I’m here for Drake. I’m always going to be me. Not them.”

He keeps speaking as if he hasn’t heard her, “And this time tomorrow you’ll be queen. Queen of the whole of Cordonia. If our ancestors were looking down at us right now I can’t exactly say they’d have seen this coming. A foreign ruler.” His lips twists into a sardonic smile. “This place has a way of changing people…and some of us liked the girl you used to be.” His eyes catch hers, they soften a little. “You know that right?”

Her temper rises, threatens the surface as she grabs his hand. “Dance with me?” She takes satisfaction in seeing his sneer turn into a nearly open-mouthed stare. That’s right Drake, I don’t let people get under my skin easily. She thinks to herself as she ushers him to the floor.

Even in the midst of how tense the air is between them, she can’t help but think of how warm his grip is inside hers.

“Me?You know I don’t dance Tinsely.” He grumbles this at her but his words hold paper thin once they are on the floor.

“Then you can follow my lead,” She whispers for only his ears to hear.

His hand hesitates by her waist before she grows impatient. “Is this right?”

She’s never seen such uncertainty from him before. The way his eyes nervously watches her, before darting swiftly away. If she hadn’t still been upset at him, it’s almost endearing. Cute. Nevertheless, her face itches for a genuine smile. “It’s fine. You’re doing everything fine.” Her smile is real when she sees the faint blush on his cheeks. “Just relax, no need to get embarrassed.”

His body visibly relaxes, and she feels the flex of his muscles go slack as he inches a little closer. He spins her inside his arm, visibly growing confident the more she coaxes him. “See? I knew all you needed was a little encouragement.”

“Don’t let anyone hear you. I don’t think my reputation would survive it.”

She chuckles lightly under her breath.

“You’re…you’re actually really good at this. This dancing thing Tinsley.” His gaze is intent, boring into hers as she guides him along the floor.

He follows her movements nearly to a tea. “Is that an honest compliment out of you tonight?” She sees a corner of his mouth lift. “Please don’t stop on my account and besides this isn’t the first time I’ve danced.”

His eyes darken with something she can’t place. “I must’ve not been paying close enough attention. But I am paying attention now.”

His words steal her next breath and she nearly loses her footing by his sudden admission. “Good.” She says abruptly before thinking better of it. “I deserve more than a little credit. I haven’t been here long and yet I’ve impressed nearly everyone I’ve met.”

“Don’t push it Tinsley.” At the sound of her laughter, his lips curve a little. “I do though – it’s just taken me a little while to –”

“You should twirl me now,” She interrupts him. Her eyes drift towards the other couples on the floor, already twisting to the sound of the song’s higher octave.

“Huh?” He seems baffled by the request.

“Twirl me!” She hisses softly under her breath. She rolls his eyes at his hesitance. “Trust me - just lift your arms, and I’ll do the rest.”

He obeys at her insistence and she elegantly twirls, spinning before he draws her into his hard chest.

There is almost no distance between them as her body presses firmly against his. She’s caught inside his penetrating stare and doesn’t move.

Immediately images from a few nights ago inside the Beaumont’s study floods back to her. His breath against her lips, his ardent kisses that sends her heart racing. She remembers it all with almost painful clarity.

And the way he’s looking down at her with fleeting desire inside his eyes, she knows he remembers it too.

“That was…” He trails off.

“Amazing.” She isn’t sure if she’s talking about the dance anymore. Neither does she think he is, as his hand drifts lower; until they are almost resting neatly on her behind, possessive as if she belongs to him.

But she doesn’t belong to him. None of her did, even though she wishes things to be different, she knows they can’t be. She steps away first, dropping her hand quickly and shoots him a shaky smile.

Bewilderment flickers inside his eyes and something else – but she’s already sweeping past him before she’s tempted to read more into it. “Thank you for the dance Drake, but I do believe I need some fresh air. Will you excuse me for a moment?” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, merely turns on her heels before making her grand exit.

Her hands are shaking. They shake so badly that she puts them behind her back before bidding him farewell.

She knows she has to stick around for awhile longer; it’s expected of her since representing the Beaumont family means their needs came before hers. But she doesn’t care, not at this very moment when her carefully crafted smile threatens to turn brittle and shatter.

Just glancing at the fancy finger food is enough to send her stomach lurching as she flits by it. She just needs fresh air and then she’ll be okay. She just needs to get away.

“Tinsley –” She hears his voice but doesn’t stop moving. Her hands have gathered the folds of her dress as she walks faster, nearly stumbling to get out of there.

She’s wrong, so very wrong to have come here. Everything’s wrong. All wrong.

Eyes follow her as she escapes; the press – the king and queen’s disapproving frown, Olivia’s smirk; Hana’s look of dismay and the prince – his is one that she won’t ever forget. It’s close to sinking her entirely, before she’s running.

She races past halls, urgently glancing at every corner for a way out. A way out of the blistering maze of a place. She spots an exit eventually, rushes towards it without thinking.

The cool air hits her cheeks, and draws a soft gasp from her. Tears prickle at the corner of her eyes, and she bends over to catch her breath. The hammering inside her chest is even louder than before as her eyes skim frantically around her. What’s she doing here? What makes her think that any of this would ever give her a happy ending?

Her smile has finally broken.

God she feels so stupid, so naïve for travelling halfway across the world for a man. A man that she doesn’t even care about – not in the same way he obviously cares for her.

She wedges her eyes close, and pinches the bridge of her noes. “Riley-Robyn Tinsley, what the hell are you really doing here?” She sucks in a deep ragged breath before glancing down at her dress.

Some of the lower half of the fine material is all crinkled, in her quick rush to escape. She swears under her breath at the sight and barely resists the urge to scream as she buries her face inside her hands. She’s thought she’s had bad days before, but this coronation ball really takes the cake.

“Tinsley.” She hadn’t heard him come up behind her, but as she whirls around he’s there.

His eyes are careful, but the rest of him seems as if he’s struggling. His body is rigid and his hands are clenched too tightly for it not to hurt.

“What am I doing here Drake?” She asks, throwing her hands in the air. “What am I really doing with my life?”

“You’re…here for an opportunity…” He begins feebly, but she knows by the tone of his voice that even he doesn’t believe that.

“An opportunity?” She scoffs, “is that what I’m supposed to call it right? An opportunity to-to fall in love! To get the good guy, and live happily ever after.” Her voice shakes, trembles as she glances up at him.

He doesn’t flinch, but some of his blank stare wavers. “Spare me the fairytales, Tinsley. Fairytales are for children.”

“They are, aren’t they?” She drags her hands through her hair. “And I can’t believe I allowed myself to be swept by them, to think I could really control everything.”

He doesn’t speak, only waits for her to finish her tirade.

“And you know what’s the worst part of this all is? I wanted to win! I wanted to fall in love with the perfect man, and be swept by his kind words, be swept by him. But I’m not.” Her eyes soften, they blur for a moment as she looks away from him. “Because I fell for someone else.”

When she turns back to him, he’s moved to stand in front of her. He doesn’t say anything at first as she meets his gaze. “Are you done?”

She huffs out a breath.

“Good, because all that yelling isn’t going to solve anything.” He takes her arm before she can muster a witty reply and guides her further down the cemented covered path. “Especially not so close to the ball.”

“Sorry,” She says instantly. She rubs her temples tiredly. “It’s just been a long day that’s all.”

“We’ve all had those. At least once.”

They wander farther away from the castle, until it’s finally enough for Drake to release her arm. He remains silent, and scrutinizes her.

She swears she can almost see the wheels turning inside his head. “Why do you do that?” She asks suddenly, hugging herself as she tries to put distance between them.

An eyebrow lifts. “Do what?”

“Call me by my last name, you’re the only one that does.” At his shrug, she presses further. “And I don’t even know yours.” It’s almost an accusation inside her voice.

“And you consider us to be friends.”

“Are you implying that we aren’t?”

He shrugs nonchalantly.

“So tell me.”

His lips press into a thin frown. “What is it with you and prying into my life?” He blows out an aggravated breath in which she shakes her head at. “Can’t you let a man keep a few walls up?”

She drops her hands to her side as she regards him with a small smile. “I think we’re a little bit beyond these games by now, don’t you?”

Riley doesn’t know how long they stand there, each trying to weigh the other one down with the intensity of their stares. Eventually, Drake concedes. His expression softens as he clears his throat. “If you must know, then I guess it can’t be helped. It’s….Walker.”

Her lips itches to smile. “Walker, like the whiskey?” She chuckles a little. “Well I guess that explains your fascination with drinking.You’re pretty much born to be an alcoholic.”

His scowl is nearly cutting. “I knew it was a mistake telling you.”

“Sorry I just,” she bites her bottom lip. She hadn’t meant to insult him, it’s just always been easy for her, teasing him made her laugh. Made her want to smile. Especially on a night like this, she really needs to smile. Her expression softens at his quiet blush. “Was that really so hard Mr. Walker?”

At the sound of his last name, he hisses. Then, he straightens his shoulders and the scowl is replaced by an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have many secrets left from you, and I’m not used to opening up for people, okay?” A crease so deep forms in his brow that Riley wrestles with the desire to reach up and smoothen it. “And maybe every little bit feels like a stretch.”

They lapse into silence as Riley considers his words. She’s never seen him so frustrated, or so vulnerable before. It’s not only in the way he keeps averting his gaze, it’s in his body language too - as if he’s afraid she’ll say something to shatter his confidence. "It’s a great last name, Drake.”

He grunts in response.

She clasps her hands together, and breaks the silence. “We should probably go back inside now. People might be wondering where we went.” Her breakdown is thankfully over, and he doesn’t have to watch her anymore. She thinks he probably hadn’t even wanted to. Before she steps past him, she can feel his hand before it touches her.

A simple touch on the back of hers and yet it stops her. Freezing her movement, stunning her more than if he’d said something. Warmth shoots up her hand, traveling to the rest of her as she glances up at him. “You’re still you.”

“Hmm?” She blinks at him.

“You’re still you.” He almost sounds as if he quite doesn’t believe it himself. “And I think even with the crown pretty much dangling in between you and nobility – you’re still you.”

She scowls at him then, twisting her hand away. Her earlier anger leaps forward and she tempers it by placing inches between them. “Weren’t you just telling me how much I was like them Drake?”

“I was being an idiot, you know that.”

She isn’t going to argue. Folding her arms, she waits for him to finish. “Look, I shouldn’t have said that.” He sighs in frustration, “I knew as soon as the words were out of my mouth they were wrong.” His brows furrow in concentration then soften. “You didn’t deserve that.”

“I suppose that’s the best apology I’m getting out of you, isn’t it?” She bites her tongue in saying more at the sight of his shoulders slightly slumping. Drake deserves a lot of things, but he doesn’t deserve the brunt of her anger. She’s mostly upset with herself.

“I was out of line, I’m sorry.” He rakes his fingers through his hair. “It’s just…in that moment, when I saw you at the ball…” He looks away from her, jaws clenching. “How beautiful you looked in that dress…you just reminded me of Savannah. And on her last night here, out with the other nobles partying, she was happy too.” His tone has gone bitter and every trace of anything else is gone. His eyes look past her, as if he’s staring through her as he spoke. “She was so happy, in her fancy gown. And her hair had been all done up…She lit up an entire room.”

She knows confessing this is important. Important to him. He’s shifting closer without him even realizing it and as her temper dissipates again, she listens.

“She really believed she made it. That she was one of them, and even after all this time I still don’t know what the hell happened. What caused her to leave and never looked back.” It’s if he’s seeing her again as those eyes slide back to hers and they’re all dark and filled with emotional turmoil. His hands touch her shoulders, grips them roughly as he hurriedly speaks. “But it was bad, bad enough to break her and I’ll never forget how devastated she looked before she disappeared.”

His grip was so tight that his fingernails has bit into her skin. She forces herself not to flinch as he towers over her. “And when I looked at you tonight, I just –” His next words come out into a quick rush. “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the same thing happening to you.”

“Drake –” She has to stop him there, has to let him know that she’s not Savannah. She’s never been one to let something destroy her, not people – and certainly not this place.

“This place seems shiny and wonderful, but the truth is it breaks people Tinsley. I don’t –” He pauses, eyes searching hers. “I don’t ever want to see you broken.”

His words should touch her, they should make her heart bloom – but all she sees inside her head is Savannah. Savannah’s desperation to fit in, to be loved by the people she’s just walked away from. How alone she must’ve felt before she finally disappeared.

Riley can’t imagine why Drake’s sister left, but she knows that the girl isn’t her. She won’t let herself become her. “I’m not Savannah.” She whispers the words slowly at first. Then she says them clearer, more firmly for him to hear. “I’m not Savannah.”

“Believe me, I’m well aware.” His tone is dry, but his eyes sparkle with something akin to admiration. “You’re stronger than her I think. And if anyone can survive this place…it’s probably you.”

Riley doesn’t know what to say. Words seem to fail her as she glances away, a blushing poking from the side of her cheeks. Drake has given her an honest answer, without his snarky comments or witty remarks – and she’s still reeling from it all.

“Hell, Tinsley. My life would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just hated you.” He says it earnestly and without an ounce of surliness.

Her eyes drifts back to his, and to her surprise he’s almost smiling. “Kiss me.” The words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

It’s the first time she’s seen his eyes go so wide. “What?”

Honestly, she surprised herself too, but all she can think about is his words. How much he trusted her tonight when he speaks about his sister.

Then he’s moving, nearly tugging her until their foreheads touch. “If this is the last time I’m going to be alone with you, before you’re an engaged woman-”

She blanches at the thought.

“- I’d be a damned fool not to kiss you.”

In an instant, his lips are on hers. They’re rough and familiar. They surge an unexpected feeling of tenderness as she grips the back of his neck. His kisses taste of whiskey and passion all twisted together.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there, pressed against each other. She only knows that his lips are the only things she wants to remember from this entire night.

“I want to remember this. Right here.” He whispers against her mouth, “I don’t want to know what happens next. I just want to stay in this moment.” His lips deliberately kiss her, nipping gently at her bottom lip. “Right here.”

“Drake…” A sigh escapes her lips as he kisses her again, and this time she has no intention of letting go. Her hands feel heavy in their position, draping across his neck before he gently retrieves them and drops them to his chest.

A laugh bubbles inside her throat.

He coaxes her mouth open, hands drifting to cup her behind only to receive a fistful of giggles until she’s nearly gasping against his mouth. “You’re kind of ruining the mood here.” He grumbles lightly, before pulling back enough to see her earnest smile.

“Sorry it’s just -“ She gasps again, clasping her hand over her mouth before another chuckle can escape.

“Anytime now Tinsley.” He says mildly, brushing stray hairs from her face.

“This morning I kept thinking about how fate sort of dictates everything for us. Everyone for us.” She stares up at him, “how it brought me here. And now that everything is ending - all I can think about now is how fate fate lead me to you. To our moments in between when we don’t have pretend anymore.”

His eyes are dark, almost inscrutable. “What’re you saying Riley?”

She releases the breath she’s been holding when he first kissed her. Maybe she’s wrong. Maybe she’s only been trying to convince herself that fate isn’t pushing her to him - to finding their happiness together. But she’s sick of waiting for things to just happen.

She doesn’t want to stay on the same path anymore, she wants to believe she can change it - that they can change it.

She braces herself for his reaction. “I’m saying let’s stop pretending. Let’s not be star-crossed anymore.”

#drake x mc #i had to write out my frustration with this chapter #because i wanted my happy ending #the royal romance #playchoices #edit later #it's so longgg #and i didn't want to go to sleep without finishing it #choices stories you play

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