zyrix

nsfw ahead !!

astrophstudent!ellie  who fucks you how you wanted her to be. Her fingers are right where you want it to be, on that sweet spot that makes you spill her name out of your mouth, her tongue practically making out with your pussy.

astrophstudent!ellie  who admitted that she was a virgin when you both had sex for the first time.

You're flabbergasted of course, the girl made you come twice, and you just learned that it was the first time she did that? Unbelievable. Unbelievably good.

When you asked her where she learned to do that, her answer was short. She just read about it.

astrophstudent!ellie who loses all cognitive functioning for five minutes straight when you first took your shirt off. She was a sucker for boobs, and likes to take her time with them, pinching and licking your nipples. Gives you goosebumps every time.

astrophstudent!ellie who literally perished when you offered to scissor for the first time. You were bored and wanted to fuck her this time.

The soft, dominant girl is long gone when her soaking pussy finally comes into contact with yours. She's panting and gasping after you've finished.

After she caught her breath, all she said was “I wanna do it again.”

astrophstudent!ellie who finally fucked you with her strap on spring break at her house. Where, she quotes, is soundproof and you can scream however loud you like.

You met her parents the next day deliciously sore.

When the break was over, she took the strap with her, unbeknownst to you. You then proceeded to have the best spring break ever.

astrophstudent!ellie who's the queen of aftercare, she doesn't leave you soaking wet and she cleans every drop of your release. She then plops beside you to tell you how great you took her and how amazing you are. She orders take out and makes sure that you are fully hydrated.

In the end, after you're full and satiated, she asks,

It started with your first table, a group of rowdy college students who complained about every aspect of their meal. They had you running back and forth to the kitchen for the better part of an hour, catering to their every ridiculous demand only to be left with a total of ten cents as your tip. But to add insult to injury, one of them scrawled his phone number across the back of the receipt as if that would somehow make up for it.

Things only seemed to spiral out of control from there.

You forgot to ring in an appetizer and were subsequently berated by a soccer mom with a bad Karen cut and chunky highlights. Then the new host triple sat you while you were refilling the ice bucket in the back, and somewhere in the middle of it all, you ran out of silverware and ended up rolling majority of it on your own.

Every new table that walked through the door seemed to bring with it some kind of mistake: a late greeting, a missed refill, a forgotten ranch. You had honestly lost count of how many times Abby had to re-make something for you but she was still being so incredibly patient throughout it all, which only made you feel worse.

You'd been far too preoccupied to realize just how closely she’d been watching you all night. That she noticed how your smile faltered every time you entered the kitchen, saw the renewed tension in your shoulders whenever you rang in another order, and the way your composure seemed to crack a little more with each new setback you faced.

But the final straw came in the form of your apron.

The stupid thing had been giving you trouble all night, the strings somehow working themselves loose no matter how tightly you managed to tie them. While you’d been able to laugh it off the first few times, after everything else that had gone wrong, the feeling of the fabric slipping down your hips might be enough to break you completely.

You’d just barely rounded the corner with a tray full of dirty dishes when you felt it happen—that familiar slackening at your waist as the knot came loose.

“No, no no…” you whisper, fumbling to try and catch it before it could slide any further over your hips. But the strings slip right through your fingers and your apron lands in a small heap on the floor.

You just stand there for a moment, tears of frustration beginning to blur your vision as you glare down at the pile of fabric pooled at your feet. Your hands start to tremble as your fingers grip tighter onto the edge of the tray and your breath releases in short, quick huffs.

A pair of warm hands reaches out to steady your own as the first traitorous tear slips down your cheek, and the stack of heavy dishes suddenly disappears from your grasp as the tray is carefully lifted away. Before you can even try to argue, to assure that you’re fine—you’re being guided away from the chaos of the expo line and back toward the dish pit.

“Easy, now,” Abby murmurs and the sound of her voice has your head snapping up.

Her eyes are impossibly soft as she meets your gaze and any traces of her usual sarcasm are nowhere to be found. You’d been so frazzled and panicked the entire night that you’d barely looked at her. But now that she’s so close, it’s too hard for you to look away.

Because fuck, she’s gorgeous.

Her dark blonde locks are thrown up in a messy bun, a few strands falling loose to frame her overly flushed cheeks. Sweat dampens the curve of her brow and the collar of her t-shirt from hours of working the grill. The sleeves of it pushed up well past her shoulders, exposing the tatted, freckled skin of her biceps.

On the surface, she looks every bit like the gruff, intimidating line cook that you were warned about weeks ago. But the way she’s looking at you right now speaks of something else entirely. There’s a gentleness in her expression that you’ve never seen before, laced with a kind of genuine concern that makes your throat tighten.

“You okay?” she asks, and a flash of maroon suddenly catches your eye.

It’s then that you finally notice the folded heap of fabric in her hands. Your apron. When she goes to hand it back to you, her thumb lightly brushes the inside of your wrist and somehow, that subtle touch unravels you completely.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you choke out, attempting to wipe away the fresh onslaught of tears that spill down your cheeks. “God, I feel so fucking stupid right now.”

“Hey,” she says soft but firm, a wrinkle appearing between her brows as she frowns. “You’re overwhelmed, that’s not stupid.”

She sounds so sincere that it makes your chest ache.

“I should be able to handle it though,” you argue with a sniffle, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as your gaze drops to the floor. “But I keep fucking everything up, and this stupid apron just won’t stay tied…”

You completely lose your train of thought when Abby reaches out, placing both hands on your shoulders. The warmth of her palms seeps through the thin cotton of your shirt, her touch instantly grounding you.

“Take a breath for me, yeah?”

You nod, inhaling deeply before releasing a slow, shaky breath. But your hands feel stiff as you start to unfold your apron, your fingers fumbling with the tangled strings as you sling it around your hips.

“Here, I got it.” Abby’s voice is soft as she turns you around, her warm breath tickling the nape of your neck when she exhales.

You’re acutely aware of where her hands rest at curve of your waist, adjusting the apron until it lays flush against your middle and a tingle races down your spine when her palms smooth over the rumbled fabric. You can practically feel the heat radiating from her chest as she takes her time to secure the knot and your breath catches when her knuckles graze the small of your back.

“There,” she says after a beat, giving the knot one final tug. “That’s not going anywhere.”

You quickly turn to thank her, the movement causing your shoulder to graze over the curve of her left breast and your entire body tenses at the contact. A strange combination of mortification and need begins to lick up the curve of your spine as your eyes meet. But Abby makes no move to pull away, in fact she leans in closer as her tongue wets her lower lip. And part of you can't help but wonder if maybe she'll close that remaining distance and kiss you. 

A loud clatter of dishes erupts behind you, immediately breaking the spell and you stumble back a step.

“Sorry,” you blurt. 

“It's okay,” she replies, her voice low but filled with mirth. 

When you dare another glance at her, a rosy flush has begun to bloom across the apples of her cheeks, but the intensity of her gaze hasn't wavered. 

“Hey, Abs?” Manny’s voice suddenly calls from across the kitchen. “If you’re done flirting with the new girl, can you get your ass back on the line? We’re getting smoked back here!”

Abby barely spares him a glance. “Sounds like more of a skill issue, cabrón,” she calls over her shoulder.

A giggle bubbles past your lips before you can stop it and the corner of her mouth curls up into a subtle smirk when Manny flips her the bird. 

“Well, I better get back,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you mumble. “Thanks for…you know…” You gesture vaguely toward your apron. 

She grins. “Anytime.”

You watch as she turns to walk away, unable to hide the soft smile from tugging at your lips when she glances back at you one last time before disappearing behind the expo line. You release a small, content sigh as you slump against the door of the walk-in, taking a moment to fully collect yourself before you to head back out on the floor.

“She’s never done something like that before you know,” a quiet voice breaks through your thoughts and your eyes flick up to find Lev, whose wearing an all too knowing look on his face.

“Done what?” you ask curiously.

“Left the line,” he continues, rather matter-of-factly. “Especially not during a dinner rush, she's practically married to that grill.”

You fall silent but Lev doesn’t give you a chance to reply before he turns, slipping his earbuds in and going back to rinsing the stack of dirty dishes. But his words settle deep in your chest, effectively warming you from the inside-out.

You find yourself glancing back toward the kitchen, to where Abby's fallen back into the chaos of the dinner rush with startling ease. Like she hadn't just dropped everything to come piece you back together again.

As if she can feel your eyes on her, Abby glances back up from the grill, raising a brow in a silent question. You good?

And for the first time all night, you think you just might be. 

POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who truly, wholeheartedly, hates the attention she gets. she used to like it, back when she was single and hooked up with some girl every weekend, but not anymore. many of her friends from the soccer team often tease her for how little she goes out, but the truth is, ellie loves nothing more than to stay cooped up in your dorm, binge watch the series you two promise not to watch without the other present, and cuddle.

POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who really, really likes to be praised and kissed at the same time. there's nothing more ellie enjoys than to arrive at your dorm, freshly showered after practice, and cuddle on your bed. she whines, shamelessly, when you give her kisses on the forehead, ask her about her day, and praise her for doing good. it's easy to ignore the worries in her mind when she's around you.

"coach basically said im carrying the team to nationals,” ellie’s words are muttered into your chest, her cheek smushed against your breast. she doesn’t have to say what she wants to hear from you, and yet— “will you come, if we do make it?”

“of course,” you run your fingers through her hair, pushing back her bangs to kiss her freckled forehead. “i’m proud of you, baby.”

POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who most people, including yourself in the beginning, expect to be this rough, smug, and dominant woman in the bedroom. she is, with strangers and one-night stands, that is… but not relationships. she certainly didn’t open up about one of her kinks on purpose; you simply figured it out.

“fuck, els…” you gasp against her ear, curling your fingers into the base of her skull to give a gentle pull to her hair. her breaths mingle with yours, and she watches with rapt attention as your face twists the longer her thumb circles your clit for.

it’s maddening, watching a woman lose herself in pleasure thanks to her. but ellie always aches for more than just moans and simple praise like ‘that’s so good’. she needs more.

“right there, baby. ‘m so close, just press a little— there!” you’re thankful the parking lot of the uni’s residence is empty in this particular area. cars are an uncomfortable place to fuck in, but they make-do for quickies. ellie knows what she’s doing, at least, but even so, the words slip. “good girl, baby. you did so good for me.”

ellie’s hips bucked against nothing, and she whimpered. that was a topic for another time, though.

POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who eventually does open up about her kinks a few months into the relationship. not the basic ones; who the fuck isn’t into being praised, or getting told they eat pussy well? no, she means the ones that only one other girl — her ex — knows. she’s awfully embarrassed about it, even if it doesn’t go anything beyond wanting to be called puppy, being “petted”, getting called ‘good girl’, and being occasionally slipped into a collar.

POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who whimpers as you ride her. she stretches you out so very well, and you’re not sure what’s more satisfying— the feeling, or watching ellie’s breath stutter every time you roll your hips down on her strap. if she tries to buck her hips to meet you halfway, you give a tug to the leash wrapped around your hand. she can only watch, wet and aroused and useless on her back, as you move to your own rhythm, balancing yourself with one hand on one of her small breasts.

POPULAR!ELLIE ♡ who loves to get marked up. leave scratches on her back and red indents on her hips, please. but most of all, she loves hickeys. the second your lips come into contact with her throat, she’s tipping her head back and holding back whimpers. her hands grip onto your shoulders as you bring her flesh into your mouth to suckle, and though she expects it every time, still shudders when you top it all off with a nip and kiss.

“do you like that, els?” you croon against her ear, running a fingertip down the path of blooming marks on her nape. ellie nods, leaning back against the headboard to pull you on top of her.

but you stop just short of, instead shifting to sit between her knees. your finger trails down her sternum, passing by the many freckles that could pass as constellations, until you reach her abdomen. it’s a lean area, yet would be just as easy to mark up.

“want me to leave a few here, puppy?” you press your thumb down against her navel, grinning when ellie groans and bucks her hips with a nod. “yeah? use your words for me.”

“yes,” ellie croaks, eyes squeezed shut. “please.”

If only Ellie’s teammates could see her like this; flushed from the tips of her ears all the way down to her toes, knees reddened from how long she’s been knelt before you for.

Not that she’d have it any other way, though.

"I didn't mean to make you upset," Ellie breathes against your thigh, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft flesh before resting her chin over it. She whines as your fingers curl tighter into her hair, though doesn't make a move to pull away. "She came up to me. You know I'd never do such a thing."

You do, but even so, it doesn't make it any less frustrating when bold — and stupid — girls try to make a move on your woman. Ellie used to like parties, and though rarely attends any these days, had no option but to go since it was a friend's birthday. You'd left her alone for three minutes to fetch you both a drink.

Three.

That had been just enough time for a gal to slink in, press up against Ellie, and try to get her number. Ellie had done her part of backing up and saying she had a girlfriend and was happily taken, and owned, but the other had only left once you showed up.

You weren't angry, honestly. Annoyed, sure, but you've never been the jealous type. Ellie clearly wanted you to be, though.

"Was I bad?" She whispers right against your ear, ensuring you'd hear her through the beat of the music and chatter in the background. "I should've followed you, don't you think? Maybe that way she wouldn't have flirted with me."

Back to the present, Ellie remains knelt at the foot of the bed. She's restless, you can tell. Her eyes keep flickering down to the hem of your nightgown, as though her stare would will it to be lifted on its own. She whimpers as you raise it, but remains painfully still, and watches as the length of your thighs is revealed. From the soft flesh she itches to squeeze the sides of her head, to the pretty stretch marks that hug your hips like her hands often do.

And Ellie can't hold back a whine when your knees part fully, showing her was she salivates for; your cunt, free of undergarments, with slick already pressed to the inner and plush parts of your thighs. Your fingers untangle themselves from her hair, yet, Ellie waits. Until—

"Go on."

She doesn't jump you. She knows better. Instead, Ellie works her way up your legs with slow, open-mouthed kisses. Her hands hook themselves under your knees, guiding them over her shoulders before she grasps your hips to carefully scoot you closer to the edge of the bed. Her fingers part you open, and the first press of her tongue over your slit has your toes curling. You reward her with a groan, which only excites Ellie further. She buries her face against you, nose nestled over your mound, and sucks your clit into her mouth.

"Good girl, Ellie."

The praise from your lips earns you an eager whine against your sex. Ellie pulls away, but replaces her mouth with her hand instead and slips two fingers into your warmth with ease. She stands just enough to seal her mouth over yours, allowing for your lungs to take in every breath, groan, and whimper from her throat.

A silly idea enters your head, watching Abby sit there, fidgeting listlessly with the hem of her swimshorts. You run and grab your phone off of the bed then prance back to the window, opening your camera. You steal a couple shots, giggling like a toddler. The brightness of your phone blinds your eyes as you scroll to find Abby's contact. You choose your favorite picture and send it to her. She texts back immediately.

Abby | you stalking me?

You | maybeeee…

You bite your lip, teething at the peeling layers of your bottom lip as you wait for a response. Yet, one never comes. You throw your phone across the bed, annoyed and trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment festering in your stomach.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

2:00 am. The metallic pink clock on the wall ticks repeatedly, the pool lights from outside the only source illuminating your room. You haven't gotten an ounce of sleep, tossing and turning in bed for the past 3 hours. It seems when you pull the comforter off, you become cold, but every time you pull them on, you're hot again.

A firm knock on the door pulls out of your fake sleep. You tumble out of bed, slowly pulling the door open.

"Did I wake you?" Abby rasps. You shake your head, dumbstruck by her unexpected appearance. You spend a good second studying her sleepwear— a wifepleaser and shorts. How does she manage to make that look sexy? She pushes her way in past you, softly closing the door behind her.

"I can't sleep," she sighs. You stare at her, wondering why the solution to her restlessness was coming to see you. "Me neither," you reply. Abby grins at your response, allowing herself to take a quick peek around the room before settling on the edge of your bed. "C'mere," she offers, patting her thigh.

You oblige and walk over, standing in front of her. The right corner of her mouth twitches — amused by your sudden timidiness. "Did you need something?" you ask, refusing to look in Abby's direction. She chuckles, pulling you down on her lap. "I can't just hang out with you?"

"N-No, of course you can," you correct. She tilts her head and it feels like she's staring into you, reading the not so wholesome thoughts you're having. "Good." The glare of the teal light outside highlights her blonde locks; her usually kempt braid was now disheveled.

"You looked real pretty in that bikini today," Abby breathes. Your face suddenly feels warm, reaching up to palm at your face. "Thank you," you smile, nervously biting at the skin of your lip. Abby reaches her hand out and drags her thumb over your bottom lip, stopping you. "You do that a lot," she murmurs.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all day," she confesses. Your heart beats loud in your ears and the only thing registering to you is how close Abby is. She nudges her nose in your neck, taking in a deep breath, the specific smell of you comforting her. She places a small kiss on your neck, and another one lower and lower.

Abby bites your neck hard, causing you to cry out loudly. "You have to be quiet. Don't want him to hear us, do you?" You shake your head frantically. "Words, baby," she commands. You whisper a shy "no," avoiding her gaze by playing with the the hair tie on her wrist.

Abby taps your leg twice, signaling for you to stand up. She follows suit, grabbing your waist as she turns you around and pushes you on the bed. You bounce against the mattress, not getting one moment to rest before Abby grabs your ankles and drags you to the end of the bed. She leans over you, kissing you slowly. Her cold hands reach under your shirt, groping your breasts roughly. You inhale sharply, trying not to make noise; the walls of your house were paper thin.

Abby's calloused hands drag down your body until they reach the waistband of your shorts.

"This okay, pretty?" she asks, face so close to yours that her lips brush yours when she talks. You assure her with a soft, "yes," and she kisses your eye before gingerly pulling them down. Abby leaves open-mouth kisses down your stomach, her strong nose dragging against your warm skin.

Thick fingers slide under your panties, groping and feeling everywhere except where you want her the most. "Abby, please," you plead, hand grabbing her wrist. Abby would usually tease you until you were begging, however, seeing the desperation in your eyes, she decides to indulge you this once.

Abby moves your panties to the slide revealing your puffy cunt, running two fingers through your slick folds. "Shit, you're this wet already?" she scoffs. Abby grabs your thighs, spreading you open. She circles your clit lightly before plunging her index finger inside you. You rest the back of your hand against your lips, fighting against the moans that want to spill out of you. "Want another one?" she smirks, amused by your efforts to stay silent.

She takes your panting and hushed squeals, as a yes, thrusting a second finger inside you. Her thumb comes up to play with your clit, your back arching off of the bed from the added stimulation. "Mm—ngh p-please," you plead, barely able to get a word out with how foggy your brain is. "You probably don't even know what you’re begging for, hm? Too fucked out, yeah?" You nod, not even processing what Abby's saying, only agreeing so she'll give you what you want.

"God, you take me so well," Abby praises, pressing a chaste kiss against your thigh. "Made just for me, baby," she breathes, ploughing her fingers faster and curling them harder into you. "Hah—'m so close Abby, s-so close please," you gasp. Abby leans over you, slipping her toungue in your mouth, swallowing your loud moans and cries.

"Come on, sweetness. I've got you," she reassures, massaging your clit in just the right way to push you over the edge. The squelching from your soaked cunt echoes through the room as you reach your climax, gushing all over Abby's thick fingers.

Abby slows down her pace, letting you ride out your high completely before pulling away. "You okay?" Her face is slightly flushed, eyeing you with worry. "Yeah," you exhale. She cups your cheek, spending a moment admiring you, before standing up.

Abby runs to grab a wet rag, cleaning you up gently. "You did so good for me," she coos, kissing your forehead. Your stomach does summersaults hearing her smooth, soft voice. Abby gets in bed next to you, pulling you close and pulling the covers over your bodies. She whispers sweet nothings in your ear until you fall asleep.

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© 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋 - do not steal or copy my works. reblogs and likes greatly appreciated!

Abby was sitting quietly under the spotted shade of a tree, the shadows occasionally shifting across her face as the branches swayed. Her hair was adorned with flowers woven into her braid that cascaded over her shoulder and into her lap, the wind only barely moved the loose strands by her face, her fingers occasionally leaving the yellowed pages of the book in front of her to sweep her hair from her eyes. 

Days like this you are grateful for the cold armour you wear to give you something to hide behind. The steel helmet concealing the way your eyes trail over her or the deep flush in your cheeks.

You blink at her suddenly slamming the book closed, her eyes rolling over to where you stand guard. 

-shit- did she see me? You think to yourself, adjusting your stance.

She lets out a sigh, dropping her shoulders as her back hits the trunk of the tree behind her.

“I’m bored,” she groaned.

You remain still.

She sighs again, louder and the clink of your armour shifting snags her attention back to you. A grin grows slowly across her lips.

“I said… I am bored” 

“You are free to do any activity you wish, your highness” You respond, straightening again, hoping you don’t appear as flustered as you feel.

“I told you to call me Abby” she mumbles, folding her arms across her chest.

“My apologies… your highness,” you tease lightly.

Her expression deadpans, eyes piercing through you. 

She sighs again and with a groan, stands, dusting blades of grass from her gown, shaking out the long fabric that drapes around her. 

Although her kingdom was small, her father -the King- always pushed for the finest grade of textiles and seamstress for her. She always looked beautiful. 

“Okay then…” she paces closer, your eyes follow her movements while your head remains forward.

“I wish for you to take me somewhere” 

“Of course” you respond immediately.

She beams, her smile colouring her face and unbeknownst to her, colouring yours too. 

“Where shall I take you, your highness?”

“Anywhere” her gaze traces the horizon.

“The woods to the west of here, the paddocks, the vineyard, the town by the -“

“Your highness you must know I am not to take you into town” you interrupt and her shoulders drop once more. 

“My apologies” with a hand across your chest you dip your head in a bow.

She blinks, her gaze faltering. 

“Fine” she turns on her heels, hitching her gown up enough to reach for her book laying in the grass.

“We’ll just go back inside” she mumbles low. 

“Shall I send for the maid to prepare your chambers?” you ask and her head turns to yours with a flicker of confusion on her face. “In case you wish to retire early tonight, your highness,” you add.

“No.” She turns back towards the horizon in the distance. The sun illuminating the colours across the fields, painting everything in pink and gold, a world all kept locked outside the confines of the cold stone castle walls, “However, do inform my fathe- the King… that I seek an audience with him”

Without another word she whips her head around to leave, tracking wilted petals across the courtyard behind her.

The throne room was grand, tall arching pillars that hold up the impossibly high ceilings. From the doorway, all the way up to the steps where the King's throne sat upon was lined with a thick lush carpet. It was about the only thing in this room that didn't reflect the loud bellowing sound of him arguing again with Abby. 

“I’ve told you why we must stay put! I cannot risk losing more men out there!” He shouted, Abby standing her ground. 

“But we could make allies! The neighboring kingdoms could protect us if you just let me-” 

“No!” His words snap Abby back, her stance faltering. 

“I will not allow you to danger yourself out there where I cannot protect you.” He paces back and forth, a hand pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“And so you'd rather I'd waste away behind these walls!?” 

“At least you would be safe!” The words echo a finality across the room, it almost rings through your armour. You catch the eyes of the other guards in the room, the king's guards, all standing still, unmoving. You wonder if their hearts are beating as loud as yours was right now.

Abby’s chest rises heavy and falls with even more weight as she grounds herself in front of her father. With a swallow of the knot building in her throat she straightens herself upright once more, her eyes locking on to him with a firm demeanor. 

“Dad” She starts, her voice carried strong without raising her tone, “we. need. allies.” He shakes his head, already dismissive but she continues anyway, “We can’t defend ourselves on our own, our numbers are too small, if something happens-”

“Abigail!” He bellows whipping around, his incessant pacing coming to a sudden halt. 

“Enough.” His voice scrapes out this throat like gravel. 

Abby’s frustrations finally come to a head, her chest rising and falling faster till she groans in anger, whipping around and taking off back towards the central courtyard. She fights even though she knows it’s fruitless.

Her dad calls out after her but her pace picks up, disappearing out of sight.

You stand frozen for just a moment, just blinking into the empty space where she just stood, the strength in her voice sticking with you long after the sound of her footsteps fade. 

Once you leave your post to follow her, you only just catch the flicker of her gown as she rounds the corner.

You didn't run, you knew where she was going. So you walked without hurry or urgency, following a trail of discarded roses all the way to her bedchambers door.

“Your highness?” You called, knocking lightly on the door. 

“Go away,” her voice was muffled through the door though it sounded tired, frayed. 

“You know I am not to leave your side” You respond simply. 

You lean your ear gently against the door, only for your heart to ache at the quiet sobs you can hear from the other side. For months you’ve watched her fight against her fathers orders to keep her from leaving the castle grounds. Other princesses were commanding courts, they had roles within their kingdoms, responsibilities. The king had done everything to keep Abby away from it all, even going so far as to dismiss her ladies in waiting after they informed her about roles that other princesses take part in.

The only person left by her side to keep her safe was you.

You slump against the wall, the cold stone scraped against the metal of your armour. Slowly, you pull off your helmet, running your hands through your hair. The rest of your armour followed, clattering to the ground next to you while you waited.

Hours. It was hours before the sound of the latch on her door unlocking shot your eyes to attention. 

With the sun now dipping past the horizon the hallway had darkened, save from the flickering candle light glowing through the crack in the slightly ajar door. You stand fast, moving to grab your armor again. 

“Leave it” Abby’s voice comes from deeper in her room. You blink through the gap, slowly pushing the door open wider. 

“Your highness?” 

She sat at the edge of the windowsill, her braid now untangled, already dressed in her night gown that draped loosely over her body. Your footsteps turn her attention back to you for a moment, looking you up and down slowly before gazing out the window again, her head leaning against the frame. 

“Your hair’s a mess” She mumbled. 

“Oh- Yeah uhh…” You start to nervously tousle with your hair, trying to push it down and out of your face. 

“Don’t-” 

She pushes herself up, pacing over to her dressing table. You almost forget you don't have your helmet to hide behind when you let your eyes follow her movements, watching like she could vanish at a moments notice and you needed to memorise each and every detail about her. 

“Sit” She motions towards the edge of her bed, a comb in hand. 

“You’re too kind but-” 

“I said-” she starts, almost raising her voice before taking a single deep breath, “-sit. Please” she finishes softer, waiting with her eyes wide for you to step further inside. 

You oblige with a nod, the mattress sinking under your weight while you wait for her to sit just behind you. 

Your breaths become louder in your ears, each one feeling more and more obvious that your whole body is screaming at her proximity. Her fingers run through your hair first, collecting strays from around your face, then moving lower brushing softly against the skin at your neck. 

She can hear it right? How loud your heart is beating? You think surely by sunrise you’ll be dismissed just like all the others that had sworn to protect her in the past. This was improper. 

You are her guard, not her friend.

But still, you don't move. You let her comb through your tangled hair, you sit patiently while she gently teases out each knot till the brush runs smooth and when she's done, her hands don't leave you. 

She lingers, twirling strands around her fingers, softly brushing her fingers through your scalp. 

You try to focus on something else; the flickering shadows, the detail in the woven tapestries on the walls, the curtains softly swaying in the gentle breeze but nothing is enough to distract you, not now that you can hear her breathing behind you too. 

“Why do you need to wear all that armour anyway?” Her voice breaks the silence. 

“It’s my job to be prepared for anything, your highness” 

She sighs, her hands dropping to her lap. 

“Will you ever just call me Abby?” 

“I-” You start but as you turn, your heart seizes for a moment. Her lashes are damp as they blink, the candles offering just enough light to see it. 

“Abby…”

Her eyes snap to yours and you shift on the edge of the bed, facing her now. Your hands reach for hers, taking them with a gentle stroke of your thumb against her skin. 

“... I’m sorry for how your father speaks to you” 

Abby turns her head away, pulling in slow, deep breaths. Her eyes flutter closed, just sitting with you, with her hands resting in yours. 

“Would you stay tonight?” She asks while still facing away, her eyes looking towards the world outside the window again, as though the answer to her question would float in with the wind. 

You ponder it; her warmth, the smell of her hair, how she might hold you when the cold settles in through the night. “I shouldn't,” you whisper, “The maids would notice in the morning.”

She exhales a long breath out her nose, lips pressed together tight. Her hands sip out of your grasp as she stands again, pacing away with her back turned. 

“Fine. Then you should go.”

“Of course” You stand without hesitation, the room already darkening before you reach the door as Abby extinguishes the candles one by one. 

Your feet pause at the door, one hand already leaning against it to pull it shut. In the dim light of just one single flickering candle by her bedside you peer over your shoulder as she pulls the blankets back, slipping underneath into the warmth you're choosing to leave behind.

“Goodnight… Abby”

Next Chapter …

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