Her Runaway Prince

Chapter 7

One of Amanda’s favorite activities was admiring the colors of daybreak. The reason behind this intense love for something so ordinary was just as simple: daybreak always brought along the start of a new day.

Amanda had experienced a lot of pain, endured a lot of heartache, and at times she felt like morning would never come again, like things would never get better. However, it never mattered how dark things got, because somehow daybreak eventually arrived. The sun would shine again, and everything would be all right.

Amanda was standing by the window of her room, wearing only her bathrobe, enjoying the sight of the rising sun. The sky was being painted so many different shades of pink and orange and yellow, she was barely able to place most of the colors. She loved the way the blue and orange mixed together, which was supposed to be an impossible mix of colors, yet there it was. Nature defied logic before her very eyes. It felt like she could reach her finger out and drag it over the sky, taking with it a wad of paint which she could have used to paint her own life a softer color.

That’s when she was suddenly reminded of the man asleep in her bed, elegantly spread out over her bedsheet. She looked over her shoulder and saw him laying in the same position as before, cuddled up with her pillow—which she’d been forced to place there because she couldn’t escape his powerful grip any other way—with his lips slightly pouted as his face was pressed against the pillow. His pale curls were in disarray, a complete blond hurricane on his head. She’d spent about ten minutes that morning just playing with the soft, silky locks, styling it every which way before standing up.

She turned her attention back to the world outside, towards the sunrise, and thought about Peter as the embodiment of her sunrise. For a split second, she imagined his face as the rising sun, and she had to giggle behind her hand. She brushed her silliness aside and thought about the symbolic meaning instead. He was her new morning, her new sunrise, her dawn after a very, very long and very, very, very dark night. He was painting her world in so many different colors, so many different shades of the prettiest and softest pinks and yellows and oranges. She wasn’t able to place many of the feelings he was causing her to feel, and most of the time she was a bit overwhelmed by what exactly he was making her feel, but it was a nice kind of being overwhelmed.

In fact, she welcomed the feeling with open arms.

And maybe it was okay for her to not know everything about him, or where he was from, or his past. The only thing that was supposed to matter was their future, the world that awaited them outside. He certainly was a phenomena, an enigma. He came in like a hurricane and swept her off her feet. He turned her world completely upside down and left her suspended in the intense feelings of her overwhelming emotions.

The warmth that she felt in her heart, right there between her lungs, the electricity that shot up her spine with each kiss, the tingle in her toes when he said her name, the high of being close to him: sometimes it felt too good to be true. She was scared that he was a passing feeling, a fleeting emotion, her most beautiful moment in life, but the stubbornness with which he presented himself told her otherwise.

Once again, she was smiling like an idiot.

Were her feelings inappropriate? Was it too soon for her to love again?

No, and no.

She was certain about this. She was certain about her Peter, she was certain about her feelings. She’d never felt such a fierce certainty before.

“Amanda…?” Peter’s slight whine sounded from behind her and drew her attention back to reality. “Come back to bed,” he sighed, and she turned to see him sitting with wide open arms. She smiled widely and leaned against the wall by the window.

“The sunrise is so beautiful, Peter. The world is so pretty at daybreak. Come look.” She wiggled her index finger in a come-hither motion, and he lifted his eyebrow before he fell back down on the bed, with the pillow pressed to his face.

“You’re much more beautiful than the sunrise, and you’re denying me the chance to appreciate your beauty. You are a cruel woman.” He lifted the pillow a bit to look at her, and smirked when he saw her walking over. He propped himself up on his elbows, grinning when she straddled his hips. He ran his large hands up her back, admiring the way the ebony skin of her neck broke out in goosebumps beneath his touch.

“You’re cheesy. Like, high-quality-melted-cheese-on-nachos cheesy,” she whispered, laying her head down on his shoulder. His body shook slightly with chuckles and he pulled her closer against him, their bodies’ warmth becoming one source.

“I’ve never had nachos before, so I plead innocent.”

She huffed and pressed him down into the bed, pinning his hands above him. “On what grounds?”

“On the grounds of you staying quiet and kissing me.”

“Overruled,” she laughed as he pulled her head down to kiss her anyways.

*****

The two of them had finally gotten together, they were finally enjoying their love for each other and, with that, the sudden well-up of emotion and passion that came from months of suppressing said feelings. Yet they weren’t able to fully indulge in their emotions as they would have liked.

Peter had taken to sleeping in Amanda’s bed with her, making himself quite comfy there. His presence in her room in the morning, his husky voice and his messy hair and his sleepy smile, were a welcome change to Amanda’s usually cold and lonely routine. He was her very own personal sunrise, lighting up any room when he smiled.

He’d gotten more used to helping out around the BnB, and what a good thing it was, because with New Year’s came the rush. The sudden influx of familiar faces. Amanda always warmly welcomed the old friends. Some were even faces that Amanda recognized from her childhood days of spending time with her grandma, back when it was still known as “Maple’s Retirement Home”.

She remembered asking her grandmother why she had called it a retirement home when it was really a Bed and Breakfast.

“Well, my little dove, that’s because it’s so much more than that,” her nana had replied ever so warmly. “The souls who come here aren’t looking just for a place to sleep. They come here to retire from the hardships of the world outside, and Nana will always welcome them here.”

Oh Nana, you truly were too good for this world.

It was the morning after Boxing Day. Amanda and Peter had been preparing the rooms for visitors. The town’s folk made use of the cosy cottage to take their lunches and breakfasts there, so while Peter was cleaning around the cottage, Amanda was working in the kitchen to serve every patron a hearty meal. Peter appeared every now and again, trying to steal a bite of whatever Amanda was cooking, but she managed to chase him off with the threat of being the victim of her fearsome wet-dishcloth-attack.

She walked into the dining room, serving two plates for an older couple who seemed to be bickering among themselves. At first glance, they seemed to be arguing, but Amanda knew the couple and she knew that they were very much still in love. They smiled at her when she placed the plates down.