let me guess, someone stole your sweetroll?

“sylus!” you cry to your boyfriend for at least the seventh time. he can hear your pained voice echoing from the living room, but he’s a bit preoccupied with the task you’d already given him. on his hands and knees. searching for your eye drops. 

“i'm still looking sweetie!” he calls, finally giving up the ground search. standing up and turning toward the sink, he grimaces as he opens and stares at a full medicine cabinet. everything from painkillers, energy boosters, supplements, and allergy meds, to face masks, acne treatments, and hair products. and yet, not a single bottle of eyedrops. 

your eyes feel drier than the fucking sahara but somehow, as you rub at them futilely with your knuckles, they’re still spilling pained tears. finally, unable to take it anymore, you blindly get up off the sofa and make your way to the bathroom. shoving in behind sylus, you throw the tap on, and pull up to turn on the shower head. 

with a gracious sigh of relief, you sag against the side of the tub. cold water rushes past your eyes, soothing the intense burn with ease. you're almost scared to turn the water off. 

sylus turns around slowly, an incredulous look on his face as he watches you basically waterboard yourself.  “sweetie?” he chuckles, long finger tapping gently at your shoulder. 

already feeling the onslaught of jokes, you hiss, “hush, sylus.”

“i found the drops, though.” it had taken some moving stuff around but finally he’d come across the tiny bottle, tucked behind his hair pomade and your shaving oil. 

“oh,” you groan, dropping the shower head a bit so you can look at the bottle he’s tapping against your arm, “yes, thank you!”

“of course.” moving to your other side, he switches the tap off again, and takes the shower head from you, hanging it back up. “come on, i'll help you.”

you follow sylus back out to the living room, surprisingly pleased with the lasting effects of the cold water. to make the whole ordeal as easy as possibly, you opt to lay back on the sofa. already your eyes are blinking apprehensively. 

sylus is grinning as he twists the cap off the bottle, leaning over, poised to dose you. 

you can’t help it though. you've never been good at taking eyedrops, even through this itchy-horrible-pain is something you go through almost regularly. 

sylus misses the first drop because he’s laughing too hard. the cold solution drips onto your cheek as you blink wildly, your face pressed back into the arm of the sofa in an incredibly amusing manner. 

you fight the urge to laugh along with him, instead pushing at his arm. “what?!” you cry, eyes beginning to burn again. 

“i’ve not even touched you yet!” he wheezes. 

“well i'm sorry i don't want you taking my eyeballs out!”

“oh dont be so dramatic, kitten.” sylus pouts.

“i'm not!” you insist, genuinely doing your best to keep your eyes still this time. 

“your face is all screwed up like you’ve sucked on a lemon.” it’s happening all over again. he can't stop giggling, thumb pulling at the skin under your eye. he holds you there, timing the dose perfectly this time. 

“my eyes don’t like being invaded.” you reason, sighing as he does the second eye just as quickly. 

“you need to close them.” he orders, reading the back of the bottle, “for one minute.”

“yes sir.”

“i know you’re not telling me everything.” the young man standing in your yard demands, shaking his finger at you. past that frustrated scrunch in his nose, you swear you see a familiar face.

standing at the threshold of your father’s farm getting reprimanded by some “envoy of sir radzig kobyla” though, you can’t help but get a little indignant.

“listen, sir, I don’t have time for all of your riddles. come back when you know what you’re looking for.” swiftly, with as much pressure as you can muster, you move to slam the door shut.

a knight can take a little bruise to the foot though. he steps forward just as quickly, his jaw setting as the door smashes against the side of his boot. In one smooth motion, and with a lot more strength than you, he’s throwing the door open and walking inside of your little cottage uninvited.

“no, you listen, lass. I don’t have time for your attitude.” your back thuds against the wall, the knight’s forearm resting heavy against your chest to keep you in place. the man leans down, nose a breath away from yours. “talk.”

now that he’s this close, you recognize him immediately.

the last time you saw henry was fifteen years ago, totting along behind his father on the way to his smithy. he was a lot scrawnier then, those dorky features resembling more of a sloth than a human. in the cutest way possible, of course.

now though, his arm holds you back against the wall, heavy with muscle you never imagined he could grow. he’s even stepped into those awkward features, handsome face still scrunched with anger. nostalgia washes over you and you can’t help but smile, fingers tightening around his forearm where you’d been trying to push him away.

“hi, hal.” the greeting comes out wheezy as your breath grows shallower.