Hot Damn. This woman is a work of art. Even with all this chaos around her she is still so strong. I could see she was still in a state of shock from all that has happened in the last 18 hours. But she is a trooper. She can handle it. And I can feel she is asleep now. I swear as I was walking away I could hear her say sweet dreams to me and it warmed my insides. My imagination is running wild, and it can only be explained by her prolonged close proximity. I am going to have to work really hard to keep myself under control.
It is taking everything in me not to be a creep and sit outside her door in the hopes of hearing her steady breaths as she sleep. Or worse, going inside her room. She called me a pervert, and I am not sure how to take that. I have never made a move on her that she did not seem to return and enjoy. But maybe those are solely physical responses and mentally she is regretting them. Does she truly think me a perverse man? I ponder these things as I make my way to the control room.
On a secure line I video call the Queen, hoping for an update. "Your Highness, we have left the Boston Harbour, and are enroute to the rendezvous point."
"Excellent, we will be there at 1800 hours, as agreed. Thank you for sharing the location with my guardian. It has been very unnerving to not know where my girl will be. You have truly lifted a weight from my chest. How does it feel to be back below the water Admiral?"
"Almost like I never left, Your Highness. Honestly, I would not have needed to tell my father the location, he and grandfather helped to spell not only Dahlia'as safehouse but also this vessel. If he truly wanted to know he would easily be able to find it."
The Queen smiled, "Even still, I appreciate it. At this point, what does Dahlia know?"
"I have shared my age, and my appointment as her guardian with her. She knows the boring details of BAMBI 1, and that is about it. I feared she was overwhelmed by everything that has occurred in the last 24 hours, so I thought it best she have an opportunity to rest before any more was put on her. I will fill her in on everything in the morning, including the fact we will be meeting your team at the safehouse."
"Very well. Thank you Admiral for all you do, and have done. We will see you tomorrow." The Queen ends the call at that point and I ensure all the autopilot controls are set and ready for me to retire. This vessel is endowed with magic, so I have no fear of sleeping while the control room is left empty. I make my way to my quarters, which are very near to the control room. As I shower and prepare to sleep I decide I am going to sleep tonight in the hope of dreaming of her. I whisper 'Sweet Dreams, Princess' rather than go to her, like I so desire. As I fall asleep I imagine what it would feel like to hold her in my arms, and I swear I can feel that warmth through out my body as the dreams of her take over my consciousness.
My dreams are a mixture of the best and the worst. Going from the memories of our few kisses, and thoughts of what the future could be to the extreme of her death due to my own ineptitude. Unable to stand another moment of the bad, I get out of bed and dressed for the day. There are still nearly 3 hours until I need to retrieve Dahlia from her quarters, so I make my way to the control room. I am surprised to see her sitting in what I consider MY chair, but this is technically her vessel, so I try not to become territorial over the seat.
"Good morning, I didn't expect to see you awake this early, much less out of your room. Did you find the control room alright?" I ask in an attempt to hide my shock.
"I did get turned around a few times but once I got the hand of which way the map goes I think I figured it out. I had trouble sleeping in so I figured we could just get started with the day early if that's is alright with you."
"Of course, let me show you around the control panel, since you're in the captain's chair." I wink as I pull a seat up next to her. I go through all the settings and controls and explaining everything from navigation to artillery controls. Her eyes are beginning to glaze over, so I decide to have a little fun, adding "And this is how we control the toilets…"
She's brought out of her stupor then, playfully smacking my arm, scoffing at me as I chuckle.
"So. About yesterday…" she says, looking everywhere but at me. I wait for her to continue, not sure which events of the day she's referring to, but she is interrupted by an incoming video call.
I answer it, greeting the Queen, "Good morning Your Highness."
"OH DAHLIA! I'm so relieved to see you are safe! No offense intended to Avery, I know he has kept you safe but it is one thing to know and another to see it." She says, barely breathing between words. "What has Avery filled you in on?"
"Nothing yet, other than how to flush the toilets…" she states with a smile, both of us laughing at the confusion painted on both her mother's and my father's faces.
"I'm sorry, the toilets?" The Queen asks, confused.
"Never mind those, we have no had the chance to talk about anything yet, Avery was just about to cook me breakfast when you called. He can fill me in as we eat." She states, a slight blush warming her cheeks.
It takes every bit of restraint I possess not to reach out and stroke that cheek as her pigmentation changes, not to test the temperature to see if her cheek is as warm and inviting as it looks.
"Ah, then I'll leave you to it. When Avery has brought you up to speed he will know how to reach me." And just like that the Queen is off the screen and we are alone once again.
Not sure what to say, since our previous conversation was awkward before it was interrupted, I simply ask, "SO! What do you want for breakfast?!"
Smiling she stands and says "Surprise me", gesturing for me to lead the way.
When we arrive in the kitchen area, I look around. It has been close to a century since my last time cooking in a submarine. Once I have a feel for the area, I begin working on a quiche. I remember Dahlia mentioning once that her favorite things about France were croissants and quiche. I do not have the time necessary to make a proper croissant, so 3 meat and cheese quiche it is.
I get to work preparing what will be the flaky crust as she asks, "How can I help?"
I point to a pile of ingredients I have gathered, "You could chop some onions, and maybe shred the cheese. Once this dough is ready to rest I will begin precooking the meats Prepare your tastebuds Princess, they're about to explode!"
"Excuse me sir, are you making me a meat and cheese quiche?!" she asks, feigning flattery, fanning her face.
"Not just a meat and cheese quiche- this is going to be the best damn thing I have ever put in your mouth…" I pause, my face reddening as I look up at her realizing how derogatory that sounded. I try to back pedal, unsuccessfully, claiming "That's not what I meant…"
She cackles, clearly amused by my embarrassment. "Sure it's not… And I'll have you know, I have never had anything but food and your tongue in my mouth, thank you very much." She clarifies, blushing as her laughing tone settles down into a more serious one.
I look at her again with shock, because there is just no way this woman is as innocent as she claims. I share as much with her and she scoffs in response. "OH please, not everyone is out here throwing themselves at every man who tries to get into their pants. Some of us have class."
"So, just not in your mouth then." I wink, continuing to work on the crust- setting it aside to rise- half joking but fully invested in whatever her response will be.
All trace of amusement leaves her face, the joke clearly over and I start to feel the guilt again, and her words from yesterday come back. Pervert. Pervert. Pervert. It's all I can think as I hang my head in shame, not daring to look at her as I await the onslaught of insults.
Gently, she corrects me, "Avery, I am a virgin. I am saving myself for my husband. In fact, you are the only person I have even made out with. No other man has gotten any more than a peck on the lips from me."
I am completely shocked by this news. I keep trying to speak but everytime I open my mouth no words come out. I stand there looking like a goldfish long enough for her to surmise that she has broken my ability to make coherent thoughts. Smiling, she continues on, "Sure many tried and thought they would be able to get me to break. And it was the topic of many disputes. But I knew from the moment you kissed me at 16 that intimacy would be difficult due to my blood lust, so I just avoided it. And by the time I felt in control I was in college and still a virgin, so I figured why give up the cow now… There were a few times it was difficult and I thought I would have to use compulsion to get the point across, but I decided to just end those relationships. If a guy can't respect me and my values then why does he deserve my time and attention?" She says. While her words display confidence, her body language does not. She seems ashamed, or embarrassed by this.
"You say that like its a bad thing. As though your purity were something to be ashamed of, why is that?" I ask, my eyes searching hers, seeing her in a new light. All this time I have just assumed she was sleeping with all these guys she has dated, or atleast kissing them the way she has kissed me nearly every night in my dreams. This makes me feel a little bad about that one tool I had black listed. Just a little. When I process this, it makes perfect sense. She is the type of women who very rarely curses, she is always kind to everyone (apart from me) and she doesn't even squish spiders! This woman actually stops people from squishing them, picks them up and relocates them to a safer location. Why is it so surprising me that this beautiful creature is just as pure as she has always acted.
"Well, when society says a girl is supposed to spread her legs everywhere to everyone…." rolling her eyes she glaces at me briefly, but barely.
We continue our food prep in silence. As I begin building the quiche she takes a seat on a nearby stool. She watches as I make my way around the kitchen, lost in my own thoughts, putting the quiche in the oven and cleaning all the mess. I shouldn't be as surprised as I am, but I am truly dumbfounded by this. My perspective of this woman has changed completely. For years I have been pissed off any any guy she dares look at, imagining them all in her bed where I know I will never have the pleasure of being. I can picture their hands on her, where my hands once briefly roamed. I am experiencing an array of emotion, ranging from grief to anger to relief and then circling back to guilt. I am still at guilt when she speaks again.
"Avery, please look at me."
I turn toward her, nearly knocking her over, having not even noticed she had left her chair and was standing inches from me. Clenching and unclenching my fists, with a scowl on my face I look down at her. My expression softens as I search her eyes, seeing the tears that are beginning to breach her eyelids and make their way down her face. Delicately, I lift both hands to her cheeks, wiping the tears away with my thumbs. As my thumbs stroke the smooth crest of her cheeks her head tilts and rests in my hand, a sob escaping her. My eyes are racing across her face, trying to understand this wave of emotions I am feeling on her- confusion, grief, remorse, joy, arousal? I am can't tell if that is my own arousal I feel, or if it is coming from us both. I have never experienced this amount of emotional overload before, and I am having a hard time figuring out where my emotions and desire end and hers begin. I exhale deeply, about to admit that I don't know what is happening when the timer goes off.
We are both jolted back to normalcy, me removing my hands from her face, and her wiping her tears. "Breakfast is ready." I say, because I don't what the fuck else to say in this moment.
We eat in silence, the only sounds are forks scraping plates and the small sounds of enjoyment I hear as she devours 4 hearty portions. I finish before her, so I sit and just watch her enjoy her meal. When she finishes, she wipes her mouth and hands, and smiles at me- all previous thoughts and emotions long gone from her face.
"Thank you Avery, that was amazing! Definitely the best thing you have ever put in my mouth…" she remarks, grinning wildly, humor sparkling in her eyes.
"Yet. The best thing I have put in your mouth, YET." I say, not entirely sure myself what context I intended that to be.