нєαтнєя & Aηgєℓєηα :)

[E M M A]

Hallelujah!! Haha okay! You think you are staying up if i do anotjer reply?

[angelena.]

I'm not really sure. Work was really tiring today, so if I don't reply it means I fell asleep, lol. xP

[E M M A]

Okay thats fine xD

[angelena.]

It was strange, Liva thought, being so near to Hugh. It felt different, for some reason. Different from her encounters with other men throughout her life. It wasn’t like she had never sat beside a boy before, or held someone’s hand or put her head on someone’s shoulder. If she were being truly honest, Liva was pretty much a veteran at all of this. She was no stranger to dating, afterall… but it wasn’t like her and Hugh were dating - Oh God, where did that thought come from? Liva was thankful that Hugh’s gaze was locked on the screen of the television so that he couldn’t see the mad blush that crept up her cheeks. She had never had a friend, really. Yes, there were those upperclass ladies who seemed to follow her around everywhere back home, but she would never confide in them or anything. And Liva had most certainly never had a male friend, unless her brother counted… and even then, it wasn’t like they were close anymore. Most of the men Liva had been associated with had been…more than friends. And most of them had been after her for either her looks, her money, or her position. Sometimes all three. No, Liva had never had a real, honest-to-God friend, so she wasn’t sure if this sort of behavior was normal or not. Probably, right? She had seen things like this in movies, where girls would sit close to their guy friends and hold hands on rollercoasters and share deep secrets over hot chocolate. But usually in those movies the friends ended up falling in love - Holy Hell, why couldn’t she stop?

There wasn’t anything to worry about with them, nothing deeper to their relationship. They were just two people stuck in a house together and that was all they were. So, Liva unashamedly let herself think it was nice, let herself stay there seated against him with her head on her shoulder and her hand in his, smiling a little too herself when he squeezed it at certain parts of the movie. She had been to see a horror flick with Silas once, she remembered… No, that thoughts even worse! No more thinking. None whatsoever. Liva just needed to lose herself in the cheesy gore and lame jump scares of a scary blockbuster. Then, as one of the girls on screen was killed in a gruesome, vile way, when Liva ducked her head into Hugh’s side as though he could offer her protection from the fictional dangers, he joked at her expense. She wasn’t going to say how happy it made her to hear him tease her, to hear a lighter edge to his tone after such darkness had entered his voice before. “It’s still gross, fake or not!” She protested, peeking out and then seeking shelter from him once more when it appeared the scene was not yet finished. Liva held onto his arm, appreciating somewhere in the back of her mind how his muscles felt through his shirt….

Okay, maybe she was tired…. Yeah, that was a logical explanation as to why she kept thinking this weird stuff…right?

“Ew, I think I’m gonna be sick.” Liva swallowed, making a face as she peeled slightly away from Hugh in order to fix her eyes on the screen again. She loved scary movies, loved the way they made her heart lurch in her chest and adrenaline course throughout her, but she could do without some of the unnecessary gore. Blood was just so… ew. Seeing Hugh’s near-teasing expression at her display of disgust, Liva stuck out her tongue at him indignantly retracting her arm from his in order to cross her arms over her chest languidly. But she kept her head on his shoulder, for some reason needing that little bit of connection. “Well, she kind of deserved that, I think. That’s what you get for trying to hook up with someone in a scary movie - those people are always the first to go. And there always blonde - which I find a little offensive.” She slitted her eyes at the screen, irked at the stereotype. And then Liva sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. The strands tickled her bare skin. “If I was in a horror movie, I’m pretty certain I’d make it out alive. You on the other hand, would be history.” She looked up at him, that challenging little gleam in her eyes again. “The, uh, sweet and inexperienced boys usually die, too.”

She liked this, making jests at one another and watching movies and being with someone without having to worry about responsibilities and her image and her safety… Well, they weren’t completely alone, were they? Liva caught something then - Hugh’s eyes flash towards the camera. Had he been looking over there the whole time? She frowned then, for a moment wishing that he would focus on her and her alone… But she didn’t say that she wanted his attention, would never consider voicing that thought. “Stop that.” She said, very used to uttering commands and having them followed. It was force of habit to not ask for things. Liva let her arms fall from their crossed positioning, sidling a little closer to Hugh. She then reached up, flicking his chin playfully. “How am I supposed to tease you if you aren’t even paying attention, hm?”

[E M M A]

Hugh only rolled his blue eyes and snorted at Liva's retort, amused at her reaction to the typical gory scene. Even sitting there now, he could easily tell the blood and wounds were fake not only because it was a movie, but because blood didn't have the sort of consistency it did in the movie, oozing, and it wasn't the right shade, either. Liva, being the sheltered princess she was, would never know that. That's why he was there, to make up for the fact that Liva was totally clueless. "We could always switch the movie, if it's too much for you," Hugh drawled, the faint jesting mood detectable in the way he spoke. His attitude had done a 180 since Liva had started the movie, beginning with when she had apologized, then invited him to watch with her on the couch. Together. It made Hugh feel... important. Wanted.

It was so unrealistic for someone to have forgiven him whole heartedly after he was at fault for something, and so easily. Liva had even said sorry. From what he could tell, she didn't say it often, if at all! The Danish princess hid her face behind his arm for protection against the terror on the screen, and Hugh just hoped he remembered deodorant. He had applied some that morning, right? If there was one thing that Hugh could be peckish about, it was his personal hygiene. Though he had no one to impress, he always had hated looking like how he felt. If he kept up a fresh business look, Hugh could forget that his outfit costed one paycheck and do what really mattered; his job. He may or may not have been extra observant these past two days of himself around Liva.

Her thick accent rolled off her lips as she complained, her hand still clutching him like her life depended on it. Okay, maybe she wasn't that clingy, but it was more than Hugh had ever experienced. Turning his head to examine Liva, he was pleasantly surprised to see that her cheeks had turned pale, and the whites of her eyes had grown larger. "Are you serious...?" Hugh gawked, hesitant of being so close to Liva for any longer. If she was going to be sick, he didn't want to be there when she was. He hated vomit, everything about it made him want to do the same. The sound, the sight, the smell... all of it. If Liva threw up, she was on her own. She stuck her tongue out at him, and to his dismay, removed her arm from around his bicep. Was she going to scoot back to her normal space? Was that all he would get of what he considered to be cuddling, even if it had only been two minutes?

Luckily, Liva only adjusted herself on the couch, before laying her blonde head on his shoulder. Hugh kept his arm relaxed between them, as if to serve as a sort of barrier against physical contact otherwise. As much as Hugh enjoyed being so close to her, she was his client, and her father was technically also his boss. If the camera he had suspected was indeed live, and the king witnessed things he didn't like, Hugh was done for. Besides, it wasn't as if he liked her. Liked hearing her laugh. Liked seeing her beautiful, taunting smile. Liked the way she made him feel when she actually talked to him, when no one else would... Hugh caught himself staring, realizing that Liva was talking about someone always being blonde, and it being offensive. What was she going on ahout? Blinking and almost choking with embarassment, Hugh shifted in his seat, careful not to remove Liva from her close proximity on his shoulder.

Didn't the guy always usually wrap his arm around the girl's waist? Wasn't that how this sort of scene was supposed to go? Violently shoving the thought from his mind, Hugh's eyes flashed back to the television screen with mortification. He didn't like that thought , he didn't even understand why he had had it in the first place. Hugh was no romantic. He wasn't even friendly. He refocused on Liva's voice right next to him, her blonde hair tickling his forearm. In protest and outright incredulity, Hugh scoffed at her claim to being able to make it out of a haunted movie. "I'm not sweet, so I don't think dying in horror movies really applies to me. You can't even watch the movie without cowering behind my arm," Hugh rolled his eyes again, a brief, faint smile flickering over his lips before it disappeared again for his usual straight expression. The only way Liva would make it out of there would be if Hugh guarded her the whole time, which he was sure could be her intentions.

Over the course of the morning, Hugh and Liva had become awfully friendly compared to last night, when he yelled at her for nearly every single thing and couldn't trust her at all. Now, Hugh found hismelf being vulnerable to Liva, helpless under her enticing touch. He would blush every now and then, beginning with the tips of his ears, his neck, to then his cheeks whenever Liva touched him. He couldn't believe that a princess was on his arm right now. If only she knew what he was really like, Hugh thought with disappointment, glimpsing often back to the cameras by habit. He kept thinking he heard a message noise from his boss at the headquarters, but it was never the case. "Stop what?" Hugh balked, flinching when a sharp voice demanded him to stop. There could be so many things she could have been talking about, but it happened to be about his lack of focus on the movie she had selected. He had such big things to worry about! Why was he even here?

She then closed the space between them, sidling up to his side with those irresistible, begging blue eyes. "I- I am paying attention, what are you talking about? The girl just died, and now the other guy is looking for her," Hugh summarized, although he had missed a vital point of the plot. "Don't worry about me. Just watch your little horror movie." Hugh hardly spoke now with any trace or hint of bitterness, his body language seeming much more relaxed and comfortable as opposed to being stiff and unsmiling. The weirdest part of it all? Hugh didn't mind the way he felt.

[angelena.]

Was this what it felt like to have friends? Were friends supposed to make you feel all jittery and uncertain, make you blush even when it was completely unlike you? There was no way for Liva to be sure, considering her lack of experience in this area. But she wouldn’t allow herself to consider that there could be anything more between them. Liva would just keep lying to herself about everything, as she always did. Just like she was going to lie about how nice it felt to be pressed up against Hugh, stealing his warmth for her own. But he was so… so stiff. Not that Liva wanted him to put his arm around anything, but that would make her feel a little less awkward and forceful about the connection. And it would probably be a little more comfortable. And it would probably feel nice to have someone hold her who wasn’t out for something else, who wasn’t after her crown or her money or…the other thing boys were after. Liva vaguely remembered Hugh carrying her up the stairs last night when she had been intoxicated, remembered him putting his arm around her to steady her as they stood by the door and he faced down his boss. Why was it easy for him to touch her then but not now? What was the difference? Just sitting on the couch together wouldn’t start the apocalypse, for crying out loud!

But as Liva cast a glance towards the camera, she understood that it could mean a lot more. Even if there was nothing wrong with either of their intentions, they could be misread by the agents on the other side of that lens. And this was something her father would definitely not be happy about… Part of her wanted to kiss Hugh right now just for that reason, just for the act of rebellion… Just kidding. She was definitely not doing that. She just needed to draw a line, line, line. Joking around was one thing and joking was all she would allow. So, Liva re-focused herself on the television, cringing as the camera zoomed in on the injury before switching frames again, showing another person in the woods. It looked like their group had been separated and were now being slaughtered one by one. Liva assumed that the couple in the cabin would soon suffer next by the hands of the beasts in the forests. And then Liva smiled, despite herself, despite her little vows to herself about boundaries. “Oh, yes you are!” She protested, smirking up at Hugh. “Just the sweetest little thing, aren’t you?” She teased. Maybe Hugh wasn’t the nicest guy - Hell, maybe he was downright rude sometimes - but Liva thought he was…good. Maybe sweet was the right word for a guy who would take care of a drunk girl he couldn’t stand and fight a guy who tried to take advantage of her. For someone like him.

“I’m not cowering!” Liva looked indignant at the notion. “I don’t cower. It’s just gross!” Liva’s tone held none of it’s animosity from the day before. No, they were just two friends teasing one another. Liva would talk to her brother the same way… Or at least she would have a year ago, when they had still been close. “Watching a movie isn’t the same as being in one, Hugh, and I don’t think I’d cower in a real situation.” She argued, which seemed kind of silly considering she was speaking with a person who had been in real, dangerous situations. But Liva had been groomed to be a queen and she could - wait, what was she doing? Insisting she could handle dangers and take on any foe? Using her queenly training to support her argument? Liva frowned slightly, averting her eyes from Hugh. She wasn’t going to accept things like that, wasn’t going to embrace her “true potential” as her father always said. Aiming to keep things light, she quickly composed herself, adding, “What? You don’t think I could make it without you there to keep me safe?” She challenged.

Liva wouldn’t make it. Part of her realized that she would probably be dead already if it wasn’t for Hugh’s every-watchful presence, if it wasn’t for the way he kept her from doing anything reckless and putting herself straight in harm’s way. Presently, she frowned at her bodyguard. “You are not paying attention.” She crossed her arms once more, lifting her head slightly in order to look at him. “You missed the part where they showed the guy in the mask - now none of it is going to make sense. Hugh, this is important.” But it wasn’t. Not really. It was more important that he stayed present in that moment with her, that he paid attention to her like no one else really did, that she had…a friend. Liva would never admit quite how lonely she was. “Fine. If you don’t want to watch the movie with me, you don’t have to. Just wanted you to relax for once in your life.” She grumbled, pouting slightly as she turned her attention back to the screen. Liva stayed like that for a moment but then sighed, resting her head against him once more though she kept her troubled eyes straight ahead. "Just please pay attention." She pleaded in a whiny voice.

[E M M A]

Hugh wasn't sweet, he never had been. It was one word that could not, in any apsect, describe his personality. Even the word felt foreign and nasty in his mouth, his lips curling and his nose wrinkling at the sound of it coming out of his mouth. Hugh didn't like being too friendly all the time, not only because of his past experiences, but because it was plenty of effort he wasn't going to give. He almost vomited onto the couch beside him when Liva began to croon about how sweet he was, just like grandmother's pinch their grandchildren ' s cheeks and tell them how handsome or beautiful they've gotten. Sweetest little thing. "I dont think the alcohol has worn off yet," Hugh frowned, giving Liva a disgusted look. Maybe she didn't know what the word meant exactly, maybe it had a different connotation in her native tongue than it did here. Or maybe, maybe she had simply gotten the wrong adjective. Yes, that was it.

She liked challenging him, he'd learned, so it was no surprise that Liva automatically questioned him as to if he really doubted her. Of course he doubted her. She could hardly cook a meal, let alone escape from the terrors inside the horror movie that they now weren't paying attention to. In response to her confident claim that she would be just peachy in a horror situation, Hugh rolled his blue eyes and sighed. Of course she could. By herself. Without any knowledge of any defense. Maybe he could be wrong and the scene in the training room was nothing, that she was secretly trained in 8 different martial arts and a skilled marksman, but as of now, he would have liked to say that he was right in his opinion. "Precisely, princess," Hugh reminded her, raising a cocky eyebrow with candor.

He wasn't really interested in the movie, having not developed that association with watching television and relaxation due to his own routines of staying up and active. This was undeniably dull. To sit there, through two hours? Hugh wasn't so sure he could take it. Especially with Liva right next to him, leaning on him. Did he need to remind anyone that she wasn't wearing a shirt? He worried. Liva would get him into trouble! A demanding voice in his head kept commanding him to push her away, to get up to go to the "bathroom", anything to get out of there. Anything. However, he couldnt pull himself together for it, continuously exchanging fretful glances to the camera and it's beady eye and Liva's head of blonde hair. She was warm, was all he could take out of it. Tearing his solemn eyes away from the princess, he refocused on the screen. Unevitably, he was called out for not paying attention, and Liva griped about his in capability to even watch a movie. He didn't know what was wrong with him. "Important?" Hugh snorted, merely amused by her word choice. To humor her, he agreed then to pay attention to the movie that had already become obscenely graphic. "I'll pay attention."

The movie had not been all that bad, if not a little cheesy. He could tolerate it, and that's all that mattered. Over time, Hugh had melted into the couch, the knots in his neck unraveling as he decided to loosen up again. Liva's presence had become natural, and as his eyes narrowed at a dark scene on the flat screen worth more than his apartment, Hugh had discreetly begun to enjoy being here. With Liva. He didn't feel so... upset. He wasn't sad, he wasn't depressed, he wasn't hating his life like was per the norm. Everything was actually... acceptable. Unfortunately , his boss didn't think so. Back at the agency, the pudgy man and two of the men who had been monitoring Mr. Miles and Princess Liva of Denmark sat grumpy at a wide desk panel. Wall to wall were the diagnostics of the house, and monitors that had several boxes to signify each camera around the house. They listened now through a desk speaker as Liva commented on something in the movie, while their dark eyes glowered at the central square footage. "Hugh, " the man snarled through grit teeth with loathing, spit frothing at his lips.

Hugh managed something that looked like attempts at a smile at Liva's comment, when his work cell phone vibrated violently in his pocket. It had been given to him by the agency due to his lack of... wealth, but of course, everything on it was monitored, and Hugh was certain he was being tracked with it. He didn't really care, but it did give him a reminder that he was never alone, that someone was always watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. "Hello?" Hugh's smile vanished, his expression stoic as he immediately left the couch without any explanation. He had seen the name on the caller screen, and had an unsettled sensation in his stomach. This wasn't going to be good, he already knew. "Miles! Lovely to hear from you," his boss' raspy voice came through the speaker, filled with rude harsh sarcasm and bitterness. Immediately, Hugh grew defensive, his dark eyebrows deepening in a crease on his forehead. In the hallway, Hugh had his hand on his hip, doing his best to take the call as angrily as he could. He was already brewing, his lips pursed. "What do you want? Liva's fine," Hugh snapped with equal retaliation, sensing the accusation in his boss's tone.

"Oh yes, I know. We all know. How is the movie? Just wait until Jeremy comes back alive, you'll see it in the next little bit of the movie. Or... wait a minute," his boss paused in his forced, snippy enthusiasm. "You won't, Liva will. Alone. You signed a contract, Miles, does it not mean anything to you? Does this job not mean anything to you-?!" The man had become hysterical, and Hugh could jsut envision those red fat cheeks trembling as spit frothed at the corners of his mouth. Hugh curled his fist, growling under his breath. "We were just watching a movie," Hugh's voice dropped dangerously low, his back to where the living room was. What was the guys problem? To make him miserable any oppurtunity he had? Was this all that Hugh was cut out for, humiliation and hatred? He could bet that his boss was watching him pace and grow angry through another pathetic camera, and mocking him for it.

"I've stated my warning," his boss hissed, enunciating every word with vile. "Your job is to protect the princess, you miserable littls sh*t, so you better take your job more seriously-!" The line went dead before Hugh could properly react, the ring echoing in Hugh's ears. Squeezing his cell phone in his hand, Hugh refrained from hurling the device at the ground. Instead, he slammed his palm into the wall with a furious shout, his blood throttling in his ears. He wasn't even allowed to have friends, without having his life on the line, his job threatened, his future on a dangerous tipping scale.

Outside in the backyard sunshine, Hugh was anything but sunny. In fact, he was a storm, darkened and gloomy, frightening and ominous. A series of angered and frustrated sounds escaped his clenched jaw as he kicked over a new poolside chair, the metal making an unsettling scraping noise against the concrete. Swearing became audible as Hugh threw a tantrum of his own, pissed that he was being manipulated and blackmailed for something he had liked, for being close to Liva. He knew it would have happened! Friendship was impossible in this client relationship, and Hugh was in mild despair. Major despair. Tremendous agony ripped through his soul as the realisation of how infuriating his boss was came to mind, Hugh's fists beating the stupid tree branches that hung low over some walkway into the flower garden. His profane language echoed in the quiet afternoon air, his skin growing uncomfortably warm. The gun in the back of his waistband was scorching his skin, his fingers itching to pull the trigger on that sorry excuse of a boss, that fat man, that jerk, that pig, that traitor-

Three shots rung out, the echoes of them resounding throughout the peaceful garden. A statue that had been set in a corner of the garden of some Greek baby without pupils and draped in fabric had three holes through its forehead, and Hugh's handgun had a trifle of smoke rising from the barrel. His chest heaved heavily, his bottom lip trembling as he his shoulders rose and fell rapidly. A whimper escaped his lips as grief overcame him, helplessness engulfing his entire being. He had been several feet away from the statue, and yet it had been so simple to put holes into the only spot that mattered. Refusing to cry even as that familiar sensation burned in his pupils, Hugh sunk to his knees. His face contorted in emotional unrest, as he drew back his arm and hurled his armed gun at a flower bush buzzing with bees. "It's not fair!" He blurted, his voice wavering as he sat lifelessly, his head in his knees. He almost could laugh at how pathetic he looked, but nobody knew half the struggle he endured. Nobody, but the one person he specifically detested. And that man knew, and would make Hugh's life a living hell for the fun of it.

[angelena.]

((I'm so sorry it's taking forever! I promise I'll have a reply up within the next couple hours!
And I kind of like Bujo for Hugh better. He looks a little more brooding, lol. xD ))

[angelena.]

((Lol, okay! I'm almost done! ^.^))

[angelena.]

Liva stuck her tongue out at Hugh in response to his jeering, finding that a small smile had come to her lips during their little back-and-forth. She sighed, resting against Hugh as they watched the movie. Strange that they could be so peaceful while watching a horror flick, but that’s how it was. His warmth was comforting, the steady beat of his heart reassuring. Her headache had died down, thankfully, but she still reached for her cup of coffee every once in awhile as though it were medicine. Liva had never liked peace, had never let herself imagine what a normal, boring existence might be like. She liked the fast-paced city life, liked to loose herself in lights and sound and chaos. Even her “normal” life was a little chaotic, full of meetings and nationwide crisis. While every giant one in awhile, she would let herself indulge in fantasies of suburban homes and normal families that didn’t place country above relation, a part of her had always wandered if she would even like that, if she could simply sit still for her entire life… But this - this was nice, sitting here with Hugh in a normal house in LA, watching a normal horror movie. To be honest, at one point she stopped paying attention to the movie all together, focused more on the way Hugh’s breathing tickled her hair. When she caught herself, she had missed a major point in the plot and scorned herself for it. Focus. Focus was important, even on something so trivial…

She had been so wrapped up in the moment that the sound of Hugh’s phone going off startled her, making her separate from him immediately. A soft blush colored her cheeks as she tried to take in what had happened, what that annoying sound had been. Hugh was moving immediately and the removal of his body beside hers felt like a chunk being ripped out of her very being. She frowned, reaching for the remote in order to pause the movie. The princess looked again to Hugh, but he was already leaving, hurrying away to the hall without any explanation. She frowned after him, not understanding what was so important… Work… Must be a call from work. Liva’s eyes flitted to the camera across the room and she could have sworn she heard a little shift, as if it were refocusing on her. She was on her feet in the next instant, inching quietly across the floor until she was pressed up against the wall, trying to listen to Hugh’s conversation in the hall. She could almost swear she heard him pacing, heard the scowl on his lips. “We were just watching a movie.” She heard Hugh protested. His boss’s reply couldn’t be made out by her ears, but she knew it must have been awful.

This was about her. Liva backed up from the wall a bit, staring at it as nothing but silence came from the hall on the other end. And then there was a loud sound that seemed to shake the wall, making her jump at the impact. Liva heard Hugh’s stomping footsteps fade down the hall and for a moment all she could do was stare at that wall. This was her fault. Hugh had said he was afraid of losing his job because of all the provoking she did, but she hadn’t really taken it seriously, hadn’t understood how serious that was. But it wasn’t like they had been doing anything! They were - they were just watching a movie!

Slowly, Liva turned to see the camera. She could hear the steady thrum of it’s battery and without thinking, she stalked over to it. Liva stood before the camera, staring straight into it’s lens for a moment. And then she reached for her hair, sliding out a bobby pin that kept the wispy ends in front back. Liva lifted the bobby pin to the camera, biting her lip in concentration as she slid the little accessory into the tiny circuitry. With a little tug, the camera was disabled.

Liva sat on the couch for a few moments, staring at the still movie screen and contemplating whether or not she should go after Hugh, find him and try to comfort him. Would it just make things worse if she were to track him down and wrap her arms around him, tell him that she was sorry and that his boss was a total tool again. She heard banging from the backyard and with a start she realized what it was. Gunshots. She stood up abruptly, not quite sure what to do. Was that Hugh? Or someone else? Had someone broken in? Oh god, if Hugh was dead… Liva was running before she even realized it, the beat of her heart calm due to it’s denial. For a moment, there was no sound. She followed the sound, finding herself in the back gardens. She froze, staring at a disheveled Hugh sitting on the ground. She stared at him a few minutes more, registering the fact that he was safe and unharmed…and then recognizing that he was hurting. Liva took a moment to catch her breath before announcing her presence, letting relief come to her in waves. He was fine…

Not that she had been worried or anything.

She felt like she was intruded on something very, very private as watched him. Should she leave? But then, remembering all the times she had cried alone in her room, her shoulders shaking with the effort to keep her tears silent….she realized that a force larger than herself wouldn’t allow her to abandon him right now. Her eyes traveled to the baby angel statue, to the three very close holes in it’s head. Deadly and accurate shots. It took her a moment to find, but Liva’s eyes soon discovered Hugh’s handgun peeking out of the bushes. She moved over there, saying nothing as she reached for it. The metal felt warm in her hand and she held it reluctantly, her whole arm stretched out as though she was afraid the slightest movement would make it go off. She knew nothing about guns. “I’m by no means an expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure leaving firearms in bushes is against some safety code.” She said gently, walking back over to where Hugh was. She plopped down beside him, turning the gun over in her hands. “You said you wanted to teach me some self defense. Shouldn’t I learn how to shoot one of these things then…?” She nudged his shoulder softly.

[E M M A]

He heard her footsteps. He heard them, that familiar pattern of one foot sounding heavier than the other, and they came fast, in his direction. Hugh could have decided to get up, conceal his anger, and greet Liva, telling her that he'd be up in his room sleeping, yet he decided to stay here. The hot sun blazed the back of his neck and sunk into his dark clothes, a thin layer of perspiration developing on his forehead and his underarms. His shirt seemed to suffocate him, the buzzing of the bees seemed to grow agonizingly louder, and his world fell in on itself again. Just when things had begun to look a little more decent for him with the aspiration of a friendship in mind, his whole happiness was wiped clear from the table. It hurt Hugh. He was never a man too keen of emotion and displaying it, but here he was, crippled on the warm pavement with his head in his knees. If Liva hadn't come, Hugh was certain a single tear would have found its path of destruction down his hollow cheeks.

Her presence slowed into the flower garden, Hugh's back to her as he refused to lift his head and look at her. He couldnt face her now, and was even quite disgusted with himself and how he sat here. Her bodyguard, the one who was supposed to be strong, for the both of them. On top of it all, Hugh knew his childish reaction was being recorded and replayed in the office. He could hear it now, their menacing laughter, their hysterical shrieks as they patted their stomachs in good fun. Miles, the laughing stock of the agency, even if he was one of their most diligent, best men. Miles, the poor, little, useless orphan boy. It wasn't hard for his boss to dissect Hugh's confidence and self esteem, especially with the sort of baggage that Hugh carried with him in not letting things go so easily. He held grudges, he never could forgive, and he couldnt break away from his past. It would always be a little reminder in his head that scorned him for not being enough. Hugh was never enough, for anybody. Not even for Liva. For his parents.

Through the gap between his side and his thigh, he could glimpse Liva's bare feet quietly padding past his right. He held his shaky, uneven breaths, his warm fists curled at his kneecaps. A pulsing throbbed his head forward and backwards due to the blood rushing at his skull, and his uneven blood pressure was beginning to have him all out of sorts again. He didn't address her, and she didn't him either. Silence filled the garden save for the cheerful chirps of the swallows flitting between the bushes. His chest squeezed tighter as he heard the scrap of metal against pavement, the undeniable click of his gun in someone's hands bringing dread into his equation. Liva certainly was quiet and seemed to not have anything to say, but in his mind, he was just waiting for her to ask him questions, to ask him what his problem was and why he did these things, why the statue had three bullet holes.

He'd always had an anger problem, and in some ways, could react like the Hulk. Destroy anything in sight, snap at the people closest, or a popular one in Hugh's favor- running away. His heart ached to have the friendship that he and Liva had shared over the past two days, even if it had been the most excrutiatingly boring and mundane task he'd been given. Liva... had been nice to him. Now to hear his boss dangle the aspect of his job being jeapordized over his head, Hugh couldn't bear having another moment of thought to himself. If he so much as talked to Liva, he was convinced his boss would confiscate his privileges, and either demote him to the custodian job of the agency, or altogether, kick him out and send a list of slanders around to go with him, to follow Hugh wherever he went. It would probably boil down to him working at McDonald's or some sort, chipping his life away in an endless cycle of pain.

Or would he... make it that far? Would Hugh even make it to age thirty? He was aware that he kept weapons ample at home. Who was keeping him from using them on himself? He had no parents to mourn over his grave, he had no friends to come check on him at his apartment because he hadn't been seen in a while. These thoughts mangled in Hugh's mind, distorting him in indescribable ways that tore at his tender and fragile heart. Liva's voice tore through his mind, but it only made things worse. His short fingernails sunk into the flesh of his skin, his eyes squeezing shut as he tensed. She had attempted to make a slight joke out of his hurling the weapon at some shrubbery, retrieving the thing that had been lost and returning to his side. He saw her feet through bleary eyes when she was immediately next to him, soon her entire lower body becoming visible as she crossed her legs and sat beside him on the floor.

Why was she here? What did he matter? Why had she been concerned when the gunshots had rattled off? He was just Miles. He wasn't even Hugh anymore. Feeling like the lifeless shell of the person he used to be not more than ten minutes ago, Hugh reluctantly sat up, his cheek pink from the pressure of his knee into it and his eyes being those of someone who was prepared to spill tears. His eyes wouldn't leave the floor, a sudden interest seeming to overwhelm him of how appealing the sidewalk was as opposed to the princess who had sunk literally to his level to console him. Sullen, he at first made no more than a dejected grunt to answer her. Until it really registered that she was holding a live weapon in her hand, her, someone who was actually inexperienced and innocent of bloodshed. She touched his shoulder in that gentle manner that she always had with him, and the knots in his stomach only worsened. With his boss's threat still fresh in mind, Hugh half heartedly shrugged her hand away from him, instantly regretting it and craving her touch even more.

"Put it down!" Came Hugh's stern, alarmed voice, panic having leapt to his throat as he seized the weapon from Liva immediately. He still wouldn't look to her eyes, afraid of what he'd find in them. "It's a gun, Liva, I don't want you to get hurt," Hugh frowned, inspecting the item in his hand with blurred vision as he bit his tongue. His voice seemed to waver too much now, and it became Hugh's desperate wish to have a space to himself where no one could hurt him anymore. He hated being... weak. Feeling slightly guilty for how he had snarled at her despite how timid and sensitive she was being with him, Hugh made sure another round was available in the handgun, lifting it then to the very same baby statue. "Its just... point, shoot," he mumbled, his blue eyes solely focused on the chipped forehead of the stone statue. Another rattle echoed in the air ad the bullet met it's mark, a slab of stone marble crumbling off of the artwork. Four. Four accurate shots.

[angelena.]

Liva flinched at Hugh’s sharp tone and she probably would have dropped the gun if Hugh hadn’t swiped it from her hands. She swallowed thickly, her cheeks burning in embarrassment at the prospect of being scorned like a child. Liva seemed to shrink at Hugh’s voice, each word chipping away part of her resolve. Maybe…maybe she should just go, she thought. Liva didn’t know how to provide friendly comfort and it was obvious that Hugh… didn’t want her there. But he also didn’t want her to get hurt. It was those words that caused the most hesitation for her, those words that echoed throughout her skull long after her bodyguard said them. Liva wondered whether he cared about her or cared because it was his job to… She wanted to tell him that she didn’t want him to get hurt either, wanted to convey a deeper meaning with those words. She wanted to put a hand on his arm or hug him or tell him something soothing… But Liva didn’t know the first thing about being compassionate. No, Liva was a princess, raised in luxury and loneliness. She didn’t have friends and even if she did… Well, Liva wasn’t exactly the caring type. But she did care about Hugh. She hadn’t been lying when she said that earlier…

A silence settled on them, one that was far more uncomfortable than the quiet that had enveloped them during their movie watching session. Liva again debated leaving, debated whether or not her coming here had been a mistake. It wasn’t like her and Hugh were friends or anything. He was her bodyguard, someone who was supposed to do what she said just like every other human being she’d ever known. That’s why he had watched that stupid horror movie with her, why he had endured a trivial game of Battleship, why he put up with her constant teasing and provocation… And because of her, he had gotten scolded by his tool of a boss. Liva wouldn’t blame him for hating her at this point… Though she wasn’t sure why that hurt so much. Liva normally didn’t care what people thought of her. She could easily lift her middle finger to any negative article or disgusted glance her way just as easily as she could flash a charming smile to an admirer. But she didn’t want Hugh to hate her and the idea that he might… It hurt more than she would have liked to admit.

Liva stayed where she was seated beside him, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she waited. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for, exactly, but she didn’t think it was what Hugh did next. Liva blinked as Hugh raised the handgun, pointing it towards the angelic statue it seemed he had shot before. She blew a wispy strand of hair from her eyes. It’s just point…shoot. Well, how could it be that easy to -- She yelped, actually yelped. Liva saw it happen in slow motion: Hugh pulling the trigger, the bullet whizzing through the air, a piece of the shatter crumbling to the cobblestone walkway beneath. The sound of the shot made everything ring for a moment, made the world become nothing but a steady stream of sound until it all came crashing down around her a second later. She blinked at the ruined statue, with part of it’s head and it’s left eye missing now, and realized that Hugh had hit the same spot four times. It was easy to forget, she supposed, that she was living with a trained killer.

The princess swallowed thickly, glancing between her bodyguard and the statue as she re-gathered her conscious thought. “Teach me.” She said suddenly, softly. Liva had never had much interest in learning to defend herself, as she had proved earlier that morning, but right now… Liva didn’t even give it a second thought. She just wanted to cheer Hugh up, to distract him, to… stay here with him. She couldn’t even consider going back into the house alone and both of them being alone and feeling empty all over again… The princess stood up, brushing off imaginary dirt and dust from her pants. It was a little after noon now, she thought, and the midday sun was high in the sky and hot on her skin. She just hoped she didn’t get weird tan lines because of her sports bra… “How do I… you know, hold it?” She asked a bit awkwardly, feeling entirely out of her element as she reached out a hand for him to take hold of and use to help him to his feet. Another gesture that felt strange to her. But she had seen people do it on movies so she figured it was right. Liva glanced around the garden, thankful for the high fencing and the abundance of trees and bushes - strategic, she knew, so that spying would be more difficult. But for now, it served as a barrier between them and all things real and ensured that none of their bullets would stray anywhere they shouldn’t.

[E M M A]

Liva shrieked in Hugh's ear in response to his unexpected actions, a wince settling in on his weary face. A cloud of dust had risen off the statue where pieces of beautiful, expensive marble had been disintegrated. The shot had echoed and rattled in Hugh's skull, but it didn't have that same effect as it did when he had shot a real breathing person. He didn't even feel bad for defacing the statue. It had helped with some of his anger as some sort of outlet, just thinking the ridiculous overgrown baby statue being his large and pudgy excuse for a boss. The man probably couldn't save himself from a life threatening situation, he could bet. What would it be like to pull the trigger against his head? What would it be like to see- Hugh was startled at his thoughts, blinking rapidly then as his eyes were brought back to reality and could focus.

Teach me. Had Hugh heard her correctly? Had the gun shot gone to his head, demolished whatever was left of his hearing? At first, Hugh hardly reacted. Then his thought process poured in, all at once- and hard. "You want to learn-!" He blurted forcefully, astonishment flashing across his high eyebrows and shocked expression. The delicate princess, who had thrown his gun away from her in the car just two days ago, wanted to learn how to shoot a gun? How to shoot someone, kill them? She wanted him to train her in the intricate art of murder? A thick lump developed in the back of his throat as his thoughts battled back and forth, debating what was the right thing to do. Glancing habitually back at the house, Hugh tried in vain to conceal how nervous he was about Liva's request.

Although he didn't realize it, Liva had successfully (for now) vied his attention away from the bigger issue, although it still resonated in the back of his mind. He still heard that ominous threat, but it was only a faint cry of warning. If Liva learned how to shoot a gun, he figured it would be somewhat useful in dangerous situations, and maybe she would save someone. The princess was better off knowing what to do than not, right? Hugh couldn't think of any rules he could be breaking then, justifying heavily as he gnawed the inside of his cheek. Nobody had ever asked for his help to learn something before, he wasn't even sure how he'd teach her. Hugh's eyes meandered to the decrepit statue, hefting the weight of the heavy metal in the palm of his hand. Liva could shoot just a few. It wouldn't hurt, would it? Besides, it would draw Liva's focus away from his own meltdown- and perhaps evade questions he didn't want to answer.

"Fine. I'll teach you," Hugh mumbled, exchanging a reluctant look with his new student. He had promised to teach her how to defend herself, but this hadn't been what he had in mind. Granted, knowing her weapons would always be a valuable asset to have in her back pocket- in case of emergency. He'd just have to lock up his supplies a little better. She stood while Hugh gained his bearings, trying to process the words that had tumbled carelessly from his mouth. Was he really going to allow hismelf this? To grant someone else the power to kill, to hurt, to harm? Someone so... inncoent? Hugh's stomach twisted viciously in half, his pulse quickening. It felt exceedingly warm outside, and had Liva not been present, he would have removed his shirt and leapt into the magnificent pool. He would regret this, he knew he would.

Squinting an eye to look up at her, Hugh turned his head towards the sound of Liva's voice. "It's not complicated Liva," Hugh rolled his eyes, switching the safety of the gun on and tucking it into a palm. He braced himself to stand, until a shadow fell across his face. Liva's hand appeared, the delicate, unscathed fingers outstretched towards him. Slowly lifting his head as if confused, Hugh stared at the hand for a few moments, before he understood what it meant. She was helping him up. It seldom, of ever, happened, and it had Hugh distracted. Grasping her hand firmly and offering a weak nod, he carefully shifted his weight to stand. He was clearly heavier than she was, tugging her body towards him as she leaned her own weight back to help him up. "S-sorry," Hugh muttered, releasing Liva's hand as quickly as he could once he was on his own two feet, reminded of his pig faced boss seeing Liva's beautiful blue eyes blinking at him expectingly.

Rubbing his face with his free hand, Hugh jerked his head for Liva to follow, headed off into the direction of the statue. There was no way Liva could get lucky with a head shot from that far. They would start out as he did: easy. Even then, being a beginner shooter, Hugh had never been bad with accuracy and precision. If Liva was anything like that wily redhead thar had been in his training division, they would be here long after the sun set teaching her how to pull a trigger. "Come, stand here," Hugh instructed softly, the harsh edge from.his voice having for the most part disappeared when he talked to the princess. He grasped her arm lightly and led her towards a crack on the concrete he was standing on, aware of how close he was to her - and his threat. "I want you to try shooting... the stomach," he speculated slowly, narrowing his eyes at the statue as he made the decision.

"Here," he took her right hand in his own, positioning her fingers properly. It was difficult with the amount of space he attempted to put between them, paranoid with the conflict inside his head. "Safety is off," he murmured with concentration, switching the button from where he stood at Liva's side. He then released her, only to move behind her to her right shoulder. "Your arm has to be straight, Liva- to the left more, no, down- you'll put it straight through the roses," Hugh commented, hovering over Liva's shoulder, attempting to accrualtey gauge how Liva's aim was. "Pull the trigger, when you're ready- and keep your arm straight," he emphasized, reaching forward to fix the bend in her elbows with with a gentle touch of his fingers.

[angelena.]

Liva cleared her throat a tad awkwardly. “It’s, uh, fine.” She brushed invisible dirt from her pants, if only to distract herself from the warmth of Hugh’s hand and the way pulling him to his feet had resulting in him pulling her closer. She retreated back a few steps, wondering if this was normal. She felt silly for questioning something so simple as offering a hand to help a friend up, but Liva had never had a friend. Even such mundane gestures felt foreign and unusual to her. She couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to go home, too. Back to that old stone castle and it’s cold, empty rooms. Back to the people who cared only about their appearances and their standing in society. Back to loneliness, because for all her power and beauty, the princess was little more than a shell. But that was a silly thing to think about now. It wasn’t like things were different here, wasn’t like Hugh was something new and valuable and…nice. Liva didn’t need Hugh and she wasn’t sure why she would ever think otherwise. Her life at the castle was fine, and she would go back to her pretty dresses and her council meetings and her lessons and her parties. And everything would be fine. And Liva would keep pretending that being here with Hugh didn’t feel nice and normal, that she wouldn’t be content to just stay here with her bodyguard forever. Maybe if she shook herself the thoughts would tumble away and never be seen again.

“Yes, sir.” Liva muttered, moving as Hugh instructed her to. She stared straight ahead at the baby angel statue for a moment, studying the jagged edges where stone had broken off from Hugh’s shots. A trained killer, that’s what her bodyguard was. And he could easily put a bullet straight through her forehead if he wanted to. Or into the head’s of anyone who tried to trifle with her. Liva forgot how dangerous some of the people around her were. She was constantly surrounded by guards who weren’t much different than Hugh, who wore stony faces and the blood of hundreds on their hands. Her brother was a fighter, a soldier, a general. And she… Well, Liva was supposed to start training in self defense when she became a teenager. It had been her father’s request that she learn how to protect herself, considering the lifestyle she led and what she would one day be to the country. And Liva had went at first, had punched bags with her thirteen year-old fists and complained every time her legs got sore from running. But then she went less regularly, and then she stopped entirely, much to her father’s dismay. Her brother had continued on, had made himself a weapon and an honorable, disciplined young man… A man who would have made a great King.

Liva had never necessarily felt defenseless, for she had always had a wall of armed men guarding her every move. She had never been forced to fight for anything and she… hadn’t wanted to. It was easier to be weak and pretend there was no reason to be strong. It was easier to pretend she had no potential. It was easier to hate herself for her shortcomings than to try and remedy them. Her mother would have went to those self defense lessons, she knew. Her mother was a great queen… But she was not here to scorn Liva for the failure she had become. Sometimes the princess wondered if she might find the fulfillment she sought through embracing her potential, maybe she would stop feeling less empty if she became the queen she was meant to be… But Liva didn’t think that was the case. She couldn’t imagine sitting in meetings for the rest of her life, couldn’t imagine going to public events and smiling and keeping herself composed. But she wanted something, and she supposed she might as well keep destroying herself until she found what she was looking for, that missing piece that would make everything clear and good.

Safety is off. The words seemed to echo through her whole being. She felt the cool steel of the handgun beneath her fingers and she let him fix her hold on it. There was something about the feel of the metal that was so…certain. Life or death, that’s what this type of weapon met. Strange… How very, very peculiar. When Hugh stepped back, she pointed the barrel of the gun towards the angel statue, towards the stomach of the being like Hugh had instructed. But then her bodyguard was there again, fixing her arm and instructing, instructing, instructing… But she didn’t expect him to touch her, to reach forward and fix her arm himself, his callused hands so…gentle. Liva was struck suddenly by how close they were, by the way she could feel Hugh’s warm breath against her neck and shoulder. Her thoughts became muddled and she fired the gun, knowing that she was expected to do so when Hugh dropped his hand away. The shot rattled through her skull… but it didn’t seem to hit the statue at all. “I was - distracted.” She mumbled in apology, blinking as she tried to clear her head. Liva focused again on the statue, holding the handgun as Hugh had instructed her to. She focused on the stomach of the baby, on one certain point. There. Right there, Liva. And she pulled the trigger - only to have the bullet just graze the shoulder of the cherub. Liva’s posture sagged and she heaved a sigh. “It’s not working, Hugh.” She complained. “Why isn’t it working?” She half-turned her head in order to look at him.

[angelena.]

Most likely. I'm going to be up for a few more hours. xD

[angelena.]

I don't think so. ^.^

[E M M A]

There was something about how willing Liva was to be around him, to learn from him- something about her that was definitely different. Hugh had never been around someone who was ever interested in what services, besides dirty work, he could do. He'd always been the brute force that would risk his life for someone, as an occupation, and he was never thought of more than a walking shield. It didn't help that he was antisocial and always irritated, either. However, Hugh was finding it difficult to be mad at the princess that afternoon, the two of them standing in the flower garden shooting bullets through a marble baby statue. Nobody had ever wanted to learn, or spend any extra time more than necessary around his brooding and snippy figure, let alone ask for his help like this. Liva was someone who had been raised to be heavily dependent on others, but he couldnt have anticipated this much.

Perhaps that was why his boss had kept jerking Hugh away from the princess, even if the King had hired Hugh due to his experience and statistics in the field. It was strange, too- he found himself wanting to be around her now. Maybe it was just to prove something to his boss, maybe it was just to show the CIA that he was capable of carrying out an important duty without his temper cracking first. Maybe it was because she was the first "friend" he'd ever had, the first person who had bothered to come approach him and apologize genuinely for something that they weren't even guilty of. Liva had even invited him to watch a movie with her. Regardless of the fact that he was the only other person she could have as company, it only mattered that she was tolerating him. Accepting him, almost. Were they possibly... friends...?

Of course not, Hugh thought to himself as he blinked to the sound of the bullet whizzing through the air and rattling a rose bush. "You need to focus when using a gun, princess," Hugh reprimanded sternly, although he was strained with worry. Was this a good idea? Why did he have such a nervous feeling about this, like something would go wrong? Hugh was mindful of how close he allowed himself to get to Liva, which, by his standards, were alot closer than normal. He tried to ignore the fact that Liva still was in her sports bra, her bare arms extended in front of her with the gun tenaciously clutched in her fingers. "Try again, focus this time," Hugh instructed, his eyes flashing between the target and his student. Liva's first miss had been so terrible that he had doubted that she could shoot the next one, especially with the target he had set being so far away. This was how he had self taught, with a difficult target to begin with. None of that close up shooting, taking steps back when he hit the target properly. That was for the weak, and he was training Liva to be a queen. Queens didn't go easy.

Hugh folded his arms as he stood back from Liva now, glimpsing back to the house habitually. Come on, just shoot. Focus. observing Liva's stance, he noticed she didn't keep her posture locked, that she was unsteady, and that her fingers gripped the weapon too tightly. Another ricochet rattled off, a sharp chipping sound piercing his ears. A cloud of dust briefly wafted from the spot where she had grazed the cherub, but it wasnt good enough. In Hugh's eyes, she had failed. And until she succeeded, he wasn't going to let her up on her goal. If it took weeks, it would take weeks. He would train her to the best of his ability- even if it was partly just an excuse to be around her and rub it into his boss's face. He wasn't doing anything wrong, there was no way his boss would be able to justify firing him in court. Hugh was sure of it.

Then another thought came to mind. Would he be here in a few weeks? Would he be replaced for "misconduct"? Would he snap and lose his sanity, and be removed from his position? Would Liva get bored with him, and request someone else? He wouldn't doubt it. He wasn't exactly someone ideal to keep a posh princess company. Would his boss just get rid of him all together? Or would the crisis in Denmark die down by next weekend, and Liva would be flown back to her native land? Would he ever have a chance to prove to at least one person that he could be decent sometimes? Was making a friendship even worth it? Why experience something he never would again? What was the point in that. He'd just be hurting himself for the rest of his life. Hugh didn't know happiness, appreciation- love. He didn't know what it felt like to be accepted, so why would he let himself feel it now so he could dwell on how he'd never experience it again once Liva was gone? What was he even doing teaching her how to use a gun, for crying out loud?

The blonde turned over her shoulder and complained about the gun not working, to which he could only sigh heavily at and move his hands to his hips. He had to patient. It didn't matter that he had held his first airsoft gun when he had stolen one from the pawn shop at age 13, and spent his afternoons shooting cans off a ledge down by the city drainage system. "Feet, first," Hugh murmured, mostly to himself as he nudged her bare feet with his sock covered ones to be readjusted in a better stance. "Posture," he continued, pressing a hand halfway up her back to straighten her slouched shoulders. "Confidence," a finger nudged her arms to be raised straighter. "Are you aiming? You hit his shoulder- it's a start," Hugh promised, looking over Liva's overall stature with a satisfied look.

He didn't realize that Liva was in decentl atheltic shape, although on the dainty side of the scale. She was well proportioned, small but strong for her size, and- what was he even thinking-! Hugh blinked rapidly, sharply inhaling as he moved from her side to behind her so as to avoid any bloody accidents. After some hesitation, Hugh peeked over her shoulder, eyeing the end of the barrel from her point of view. It was aimed too high-! "Allow me," Hugh murmured, reaching past her waist to grasp her arm, leveling it so the gun barrel would face closer to their target. "Now, shoot," he whispered encouragingly, slowly releasing her arm. "Now shoot as if your life depends on it. Kill him- or he kills you, or me," Hugh demanded. He was only being truthfully and realistic. Out there, it was either shoot, or be shot. He had learned that the hard way.

[E M M A]

We can rp over this where they leanr how to shoot or whatever and maybe they talk a little but then we should probs ff to when they go inside and eat dinner, talk, etc the dramaticstuff

[angelena.]

Princess… Just another thing to make her loose focus. The way Hugh called her princess always seemed to ruffle Liva’s feathers, unsettle her in ways she had trouble describing. Princess was an important title and she was used to being addressed in that manner. It was always your highness this or your majesty that, or, her personal favorite, my lady. But when Hugh called her a princess, it wasn’t necessarily in a respectful way. He said it so easily, said it as though it were a nickname he had coined for a friend. Granted, when he called her a princess he was usually mocking her, challenging her in ways she didn’t like to be challenged. But she…she kind of liked the way he called her princess, even though she knew she shouldn’t. Liva should have said something about it by now, should have corrected him and demand he address her with more respect. But maybe this was part of friendship, pretending that they were equals. Liva wasn’t quite sure if it was friendship or mere tolerance that she wanted out of this relationship, but she knew that she wasn’t ready to make the decision about how he was to address her. For now, she would secretly relish in the way he called her a princess, though she wouldn’t even admit to herself the pleasure she took in that word when it rolled from his tongue.

She couldn’t do this. There was absolutely no way that Liva was going to land any of her shots. She had never held a gun before, even in those early days of basic self defense lessons with her father’s favorite guardsman. Seeing as she was thirteen at the time, they had decided against putting such a dangerous weapon in her hands. So, she had absolutely no knowledge of them, aside from what she had seen on television - and she was sure none of that was accurate. But this wasn’t about her, even if missing her target did come as a sting to her pride. She was just here to take Hugh’s mind off of his boss, to make him happy… Wow, when did she start caring about the happiness of others? The thought was a little shocking, to say the least. Liva thought of Hugh’s voice when he had spoken to his boss earlier, thought of the way it had shaken with anger. Then she thought of the way he had the wall of the corridor. The way the steady mechanical sound of the camera had sounded like breathing to her in that moment, a reminder that they weren’t truly alone… Liva didn’t care about his happiness. No, she wouldn’t go that far. But Liva didn’t like to see shadows in his eyes, didn’t like the feeling that she was looking in a mirror.

Wait, were they talking about? Liva blinked, beginning to pay attention once more. She needed to focus, needed to stop thinking about her bodyguard and put all her attention into the task at hand, into the weapon that seemed to thrum with life and power in her hands. Presently, Hugh was moving her again, prodding at her and poking so that she would bend into a textbook gun-holding position. God, she felt like she was at one of her etiquette lessons with Madame Dostoevsky. The old woman would pinch her when she let her posture slip and scold her every time the books fell off her head. Those lessons were arguably the worst part of Liva’s childhood - Ugh! She shuddered just to think of all those hours spent learning about eating utensils and different ways to greet noble families! How tedious those lessons were! But lessons with Hugh weren’t as bad as her ones at the castle… He wasn’t some old man teaching her about history in a monotone voice, nor was he a plump old woman hitting her with a ruler whenever she sat slumped in a chair. She trusted Hugh a bit more and she… Well, she trusted that he was giving her the right information, trusted that he wasn’t going to laugh at her or scream at her or - Why would she even feel that way to begin with? Why did she feel so comfortable around him? She was a fool, wasn’t she?

Liva focused her gaze straight ahead, staring at a fixed point on the cherub’s stomach as she gathered her courage to squeeze the trigger once more, oblivious to Hugh’s eyes on her. He said something then, but before she could register his words he was reaching forward again, his hand encircling her arm gently as he repositioned her. Liva gasped at the sudden contact, surprised. She forced all traitorous thought from her mind before looking again at her target. Hugh was talking again, and his whisper tickled her hair, his voice filled with command and power, just as it had been earlier when he had urged her to hit him in the fitness room. A challenge. She could feel it then, that same overwhelming fire in her core, the thrum of life and power that also came from the gun. Because she could be a weapon in her own right. She could be the fiercest queen the world had ever known. She could end a man with the pull of a trigger or breathe life into any person she deemed worthy. She could wage war and move mountains and be -

Kill him - or he kills you, or me…

A cold hand seized her heart. The cold rushed through her veins, taking over every part of her. “I - I don’t want to shoot anymore.” Liva said suddenly, her voice shaky and… far more vulnerable than she had ever allowed it to be. She let her arms fall, still holding the gun in one hand as she stared at the cherub for another few moments. Then, Liva shook her head, wanting to run, wanting to escape from this all like she always did. She knelt down long enough to lay the gun softly on the cobblestones, and then straightened up. “We’re done for today.” She mumbled, not meeting his eyes as she took a shaky breath, running her hands over her face as she walked about, near-pacing as she tried to stop the humming in her bones. No. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t… No. She wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t let herself be that person. This had started out as little more than a game, just another silly game in order to lift Hugh’s spirits… But it had turned into something far more than that when Hugh had told her to kill an imaginary man, when he had reminded her of her situation and the lifestyle she led. No.

[E M M A]

Of course i fell asleep sorry xD

[E M M A]

Hugh could see some sort of determination that flared in the eyes that locked onto the statue, fierce confidence evident in the way she held herself now. After having adjusted her posture to now mirror the correct way, Hugh trusted that she would be able to be on target, or at least close to it. Any thoughts of his boss's menacing phone call from half an hour earlier had fizzled out of his immediate thoughts, instead his focus becoming on what was really important: Liva. When she had agreed to let him train her earlier in the gym, this hadn't been exactly what he had had in mind, but it was progress. If she knew how to shoot a gun, even if physical training failed her, at least she'd have somewhat of a chance against anyone if she was in danger. Particularly after his boss offered to replace him with someone else, Hugh didn't trust that Liva would always be guaranteed her safety, if he were to be removed.

Some of the other guards could become neglecting, lustful, or distracted easily. The CIA also wasn't always too reliable in rescue missions as of lately, but the king didn't know that. With the division inside the agency that was apparent when Hugh flipped off the other guards or argued with his employer, it was an underlying cause for the agency to be unsuccessful and hardly capable of doing what needed to get done. Howeveer, they were handy with crafting all sorts of lies and rumors, so as to cover their dirty tracks if something went sour, if someone got into a "car accident", when really, they were kidnapped and the CIA refused a ransom. The government was a dirty place, and Hugh was smart enough to mistrust it and take his own actions in defending Liva. Assassinations weren't anything to take lightly. They couldn't afford another tyrannical dictatorship operating on violence and fear to coerce it's people.

The moment his truthful statement left his lips, Liva changed. At first he didn't notice how she seemed to curl inside of herself, aghast at what he had just said. It was shoot, or be shot, kill or be killed in the world that Liva was involved in, the one that he was involved in. There was no way to escape it, or put it nicely. Hugh had thought that Liva would know this by now, as it was a phrase he had always known even when he was younger. If you let anyone have the upper hand of you, you suffered. Sometimes your life would depend on it, jsut because you wanted to do "the right thing". When you had an armed terrorist in front of you waving around a weapon, there was no negotiating. There were no bribes. If you hesitated even in the slightest, someone would get hurt- and it would be all on you. Hugh had learned that during training as well, and saw that it was an abundant situation in his field of work. If Liva wanted to handle a gun, she had to know.

Her trembling voice broke into Hugh's expectant stare into the distance, his eyes locked on to the cherub's belly. "You what?" Hugh turned, surprised if not disappointed at what she had said. She didn't want to shoot anymore? Why the sudden change? Hugh was disturbed to see how unsettled Liva looked, an urgency having washed over her to remove that sinful , dirty weapon from her sight. He hadn't exactly registered what had wiped all of the princess ' s determination from her, what had swept the rug from under her steady posture and willingness. Liva was... scared. Frightened. He'd never seen her behave so oddly, and such a contrasting sight made him question her. "Liva? What's wrong?" Hugh demanded, apprehensive as he returned his hands to his hips, watching in shock as she set the gun down on the ground.

She had shot the statue twice (or attempted anyway), and she had been fine. Why was she acting so strange? It was a step backward into their progress, although there weren't thst many steps that had been taken anyway. But what would this mean? Would she let her princess instincts get to her and refuse to defend herself again? Would he be trying to train her in vain? Was it even worth it? He shouldnt have been so surprised. Why would someone so innocent want to shoot an angelic statue, something that resembled a saintly child? It had taken a dark turn, but Hugh had been able to easily shoot the marble without a doubt in his mind. He was corrupted with bloodshed and forgot what it was like to be naive, to have that little conscience to question him if shooting it was the right thing.

There was no sympathy or sense of what was right and wrong anymore, Hugh just acted purely on instinct. "It's fine," he sighed, squatting to pick up the gun from the cobblestones at her feet just as she disposed of it there. The gun was returned to safety mode, and Hugh tucked it out of sight into his waistband. She wouldn't look at him, but he didn't have to see her eyes to know that something troubled her, that something was terribly wrong. Hugh felt... guilty. He felt like it was his fault again. It most likely was, because he usually upset people. Liva shivered and took small shuffling steps back and forth the cobblestones while Hugh looked on, her unhinged behavior starting to concern him. He couldn't watch her for more than a few seconds. He had to put an end to her anxious activity, before it took over him too.

"Stop. Liva," Hugh reached out an arm, grasping her arm and pulling her to a stop. "What's going on? I need to know that you're okay," Hugh implored carefully, as if anything could trigger a whole different set of odd reactions he had no idea of. This had been the first time Liva had acted up, and he wasn't too eager to find out what else would sponsor this type of reaction from her. He didn't care that Liva had been unable to shoot the statue, he was now more perturbed about the princess. Maybe she just hadn't been mentally ready for the responsibility of something so weighty as a gun, something that could end anyones life in an instant. He stood before Liva with a hand still resting on her arm, his chin dipped so he could see Liva over his height. He stood in a way so that any cameras attatched to the back of the house would be blocked by the broad of his back, to perhaps aid his already risky situation. "Let's go back inside first, maybe air conditioning will clear your head. Just relax, please," Hugh almost pleaded with her, although there failed to be any animosity or anger in his tone.

[angelena.]

Liva blinked, hearing Hugh for the first time when he said her name. He gave her the soft command to stop, grasped her arm with a gentle hand. No one demanded anything of her, ever… nor did anyone speak to her in such tones. It was the affection and concern in his touch and his words that made her take pause. “I - I’m fine.” She mumbled, not sounding convincing in the least. She didn’t know how to tell him what she was feeling - Hell, she wasn’t even sure what she was feeling at all! But there had been a strange sense of control that had come over her when she held the gun, when she stared at the defenseless baby statue with it’s head already half blown off. Power had sang in her veins and fire - that fierce, clever, dastardly fire that plagued her constantly - had come to meet some unspoken challenge. Liva had spent her whole life hiding from that power, from the responsibility that came with it. You’ll be a great Queen one day, my little princess, her mother had said to her once, as the former Queen had held her little girl in the nighttime, lulling her to sleep with stories of her ancestors. Liva closed her eyes for a moment, trying to bury that voice, the gentle caress of her mother’s hands, the sense of pride in her smiles…

When Liva opened her eyes, she was still staring at Hugh. Plain old Hugh, the bodyguard who had played battleship with her and let her rest against him during a horror movie viewing. And she was still here, in the back gardens of her temporary house in LA, still here waiting for her father to make the decree that it was safe for them all to go home, still here and still herself. Nothing had changed between last second and this one and Liva took comfort in the weightlessness of a head without a crown atop it. Liva nodded wordlessly, though the notion of going inside was all she had grasped from Hugh’s words. She shrugged away from him then, easily escaping his gentle hold on her. No, she couldn’t feel such a touch right now, not while her mother’s voice was still ringing in her subconscious and Hugh’s eyes were lit with such concern for her well-being. Wordlessly, Liva started for the back door, praying to God that her hands weren’t shaking the way she suspected they were. She slipped through the entrance and let the coolness of the air inside seep into her bones, cool her frantic heart.

The princess walked straight through the hall, straight through the living room, straight to the stairs, not looking back once. Her expression was unreadable. “I - I’m going to take a shower.” She said, as Liva had always considered hot water to be a cure-all. “Hugh,” She said suddenly, turning slightly to look at him, bracing a hand on the lowest baluster of the staircase. “If your boss calls you again, you can inform him that the princess of Denmark wants her bodyguard focused on his job and not distracted by unnecessary stress. If he wishes to distract you with these phone calls, he can expect to hear from my father.” Her voice was quiet, almost emotionless. And then she turned and headed upstairs, taking her hair out it’s ponytail as she went. She said not a word about what had happened outside. Liva wouldn’t tell him how she was really feeling or why she couldn’t seem to pull the trigger on that stupid statue. Liva didn’t show those emotions, not as easily as her bodyguard seemed to. Because though she had trouble claiming the title, she was still raised to be a Queen. And a Queen was raised to suffer in silence. Liva kept emotions bottled up, buried them deep and pretending she didn’t have any. She smiled and acted like a bimbo, she ordered people around and her smiles were ones of cruelty and carelessness. She did not let people in.

I need to know that you’re okay…

Once she was in her room, Liva leaned against the closed door, taking shaky breaths to get herself under control. Everything she did after that was very routine, very numbing. She stripped away her workout clothes and climbed into a scolding shower, let the water wash away her troubles and empty her mind, and she stayed there until her fingertips were pruny looking. When she got out, Liva took longer than necessary to dress in clothes that were way too nice for a night in. And then she took to long to do her hair, to straighten out her golden locks until she was sure not a strand was out of place. And then she took to long to apply her makeup. And then she took to long to leave her room. Fashion was a comfort to her in times of trouble. Appearances lie, as her father had always said, and she was the best liar of them all. She could easily put on something nice and make herself look beautiful, easily hide behind a mask of her own making. But now, that confidence seemed frail at best. She dreaded going back downstairs, facing Hugh and all the questions that he was sure to ask her about earlier… But she was getting hungry, unfortunately. So, Liva swallowed her fear and forced her hands to be steady as she headed back downstairs, towards the kitchen.

[E M M A]

Hugh wasn't an idiot. He'd been deprived of normal human emotions and being around others in a regular human environment for the most part, but he was no idiot. When Liva tried to tell him she was fine, he bristled at her response, frustrated of being in the unknown. She was nowhere near "fine", Hugh understood that far into her words. But why was she lying to him? Why wouldn't she jsut tell him that she was scared, or not ready for such a mentally demanding task? Moreover, why was she shutting down now, of all times? She'd always been a fairly confident young lady from what he had seen so far. Fierce, brilliant, bold. Now she cowered, avoiding sight of that ugly statue he despised so much enough to put bullets through its stone visage. Liva could push his boundaries, she could make him uncomfortable, but when he did the same to her in pressing her limits of ease, everything had shut down.

Her eyes were closed tightly, and Hugh was left in the silence, birds chirping and the bees buzzing, while she gathered her wild thoughts. He didn't know what to take of her, gnawing his bottom lip. He was left answerless, having no choice but to stand at her side and hope that the princess felt well again to tell him what it was that had disturbed her. Hugh didn't get that lucky, it turned out, and she only took up his offer to go inside with an unstable head nod. His hand was brushed away then as Liva turned away from him, her pace exceeding his as she hurried towards the house. Something in his chest sunk, his stomach churning with dismay. Hugh had tried to be nice and comforting like she had been earlier, but he clearly didn't know what he was doing. He didn't know the first thing about comforting girls.

It was in vain that he attempted to avoid the hopelessness that developed in his gut as he trailed behind the blonde, remorse returning as they reentered the house. It was also a good reminder from Liva that he wasn't supposed to be so close to her, although the touch had been unintentional to calm her down, to get her to stop pacing as she had been. Now Hugh just felt like the biggest loser, but that was nothing new. So why did he feel so upset? So angry? To give her the space she needed, Hugh made sure that he was several feet behind her as they wove through the hallway and passed the living room, where the horror movie was still on pause. He lingered in the elegant front parlor, watching Liva with undeniable consternation as she hurried up the staircase. As she ran away from him. She didn't even look back at him as she announced that she'd be taking a shower, to which he could only silently dip his head solemnly in a heartless nod.

Just as Hugh dismissed himself, she called on his name sharply. "Yes?" He answered wearily, searching her face for some kind of answer when he turned. Her voice had taken on an odd strict quality, tight and emotionless. Who was this girl? Where was that sassy, bossy princess who didn't know the first thing about grilled cheese? Was this how it would begin, her no longer regarding him in that friendly manner? It would be done. Accepting his future fate of losing Liva as something that he had forseen, Hugh struggled to let it go and not take it personally. It was none of his business if she didn't want to tell him things, he wasn't her therapist. He was a bodyguard. "Yes, princess," Hugh managed to say, although she had nearly disappeared from view by the time he'd formed the words on his speechless tongue.

She had known? Had she eavesdropped into his conversation with his boss? Although he appreciated that she defended him, he knew his boss would find other ways to twist his arm behind his back, and destroy what was left of him. Or they'd ship him off on some assignment in the Carribean or Russia, and make it impossible for the King to bring him back for Liva. They'd just have to settle for someone else. Hugh trudged with his shoulders slouched towards the living room, half heartedly turning off the television and sinking into the couch with a blank expression. What had even happened? How had he managed to ruin yet another, another peaceful moment between them? Why did he even bother trying anymore. Why try when the universe would just destroy whatever they had anyway?

He couldn't sit there and dwell in his thoughts for more than five minutes before they consumed him, his brain hyperactive as he considered what had happened in the past half hour. He found that his steps took him back outside, back to that statue. He peeled off his socks as nuisances, pocketing them as he padded barefoot on the warm concrete towards the cherub. He'd never been as close before, his calloused fingertips reaching out to touch the hot marble as he speculated the object. Almost hypnotized, Hugh stroked the broken jagged edges that had been victims of his crude bullets, where the eye had been. Why hadn't Liva been able to shoot this stupid baby? After what felt like hours, Hugh wandered back inside, feeling lost and disoriented. He wasn't so sure what to do anymore.

He sat at the kitchen counter stools, he filed through his laptop's emails, he returned the movie cd back to its case, he rearranged the ottoman back to its original space, and yet he couldnt get rid of that unsettled feeling. Energy hummed in his bones as he paced the floors of the house, taking note of where cameras were positioned. He'd recieved a few texts from his boss within this time frame that read, The king can't protect you. It only verified Hugh's speculations that Liva's authoritative command was not only witnessed via camera, but also ineffective. Just as he'd speculated. Another number, one he'd suspected was someone from the agency, taunted him, getting into Hugh's nerves as his blue eyes skimmed over them. What's the matter? A little girl trouble? Forget it, Hugh. He could make a guess that it had been either Elliot or Sean, assuming that they were the ones who were in charge of protecting the house with all those fancy spy gadgets, watching Hugh sleep through their awful cameras. He wanted to be left alone.

He'd lost track of time, and of Liva, but Hugh had also felt like he'd lost his mind. Not in an insanity sense, but it had become difficult, impossible almost, to think. He had returned to perch atop a bar stool by the kitchen island, his head in his hands. His energy was depleted, more so than when he actually went overseas to do overnight missions that could last straight 20 hour shifts. He felt useless now, upset at how Liva had walked away from him. This was it, she didn't want to talk to him anymore, she didn't want him anywhere near her. He had seen how she'd looked briefly at him, how she had sped up when he got close walking back into the house, how she had brushed off his hand. If there had been any aspiration to not end up miserable after all, and humor himself with becoming acquainted with the princess, it had been snatched out of his outstretched hands. He couldn't face her again.

The mindset that he wasn't good enough for yet another reason had overwhelmed Hugh as he sat by the counter, the only sounds being the hum of the large refrigerator as his blank blue eyes stared down at a dark phone screen. He didn't even hear Liva descending the staircase, nor entering into the kitchen, until he caught her in his peripheral. Rather than being surprised, Hugh averted his eyes, sliding his cell phone into his pocket and rising from the stool. It made an obnoxious screech as it scraped the kitchen tiled floors, his bare feet against its cold surface. He dared to look up at his client, his heart leaping to his throat when he saw that she was dressed up. Her makeup and hair had been carefully deisgned, her clothing impeccably stylish, complete with shoes. "Where... where are you going?" Hugh asked weakly, more anxious that she was leaving him rather than she was going to try another night on the town.

He'd become rather attatched to the princess, but... that was his fault. He knew he shouldn't have believed in his assignment lasting a long time. "Your father doesn't want you being in public right now, I can't let you leave," he added hoarsely, eyeing her makeup with a knotted pit in his stomach. He was forcing her to stay with him, because it was his job. Not because he wanted her to stay. Right? She looked alot different from when he'd last seen her, sweaty and in clothes that were fit for the gym. Now, her flawless blonde locks had been straightened, long cascades of it flowing down her back, and she dressed as if she were in a magazine shoot for some expensive clothing brand. He shouldnt have been alarmed that Liva would want to leave after the incidents that occured, the way he frightened her with his temper and the shooting. He wished more than ever that he could have controlled his impulsive behavior, that he could have spared that stupid, stupid baby.

[angelena.]

Aww xD I'm going to try to have a reply up in just a bit!

[angelena.]

Same xD I'm really excited to get to the whole thing with his parents and all... I think maybe we could narrate passed dinner, like it was just kind of tense and uncomfortable, but then afterwards they could have a really emotional chat. And I think it would be cute if Liva had a bad dream about Hugh being shot or something and then she could go to his room and be all like "I can't sleep" so he can let her stay in his room, but she won't tell him what the dream was about... Idk, I just thought of that scene. xD

[E M M A]

ME TOO. especially bc its hugh. You want to narrate through dinner, the two of them sitting quietly and stuff? Maybe she makes them grilled cheese xD hahaha okay and then ill pick up on narrating hughs point of view of the whole dinner, and then they talk? I dont want to draw it out. Maybe the chat is when she comes to his room for the nightmare? Or better yet shes having her jightmare and making all this noise and he wakes her up and tries to calm her down ♡.♡ and then they talk???

[angelena.]

Okay, I'll narrate through that!
Aww, that's even cuter with the nightmare thing! And I think it's time for Liva to kind of reveal a bit more about herself, so that will be a good way to do it... Let's do that - and plus, there aren't any cameras in her room cause Hugh disabled them all. xD

[E M M A]

Yassss. So dinner and going to bed and nightmare, then hugh goes in and "saves her", and then they talk ♡♡♡ okay!!!! Excited afff

[angelena.]

As soon as the princess exited the room, her mind was made up. She was going to just move on, let herself go numb and forget all about the feel of power and fire. She would look Hugh in the eyes and not say one word about guns or killing. She would lie and lie and lie until those lies became the truth. But she was so, so tired. Something about the idea of keeping up her composure in front of Hugh was exhausting. Liva couldn’t let down her walls, she knew, and wouldn’t dare try it with a near stranger like her bodyguard was… But there was something about his eyes, about his vulnerabilities he had already shown her, that made her want to trust him, that made her want to just… just sleep. She just wanted to let it all go and stop faking smiles. She just wanted to collapse in on herself until there was nothing left of her… She just wanted to disappear, to become a wisp of smoke and dissipate into the air. And that would be the last of Liva Nicoline Nordskov. And no one would be able to force a crown over her head once she was air. Maybe it would be better to be air, she thought, then to be a flame.

Liva managed to keep her head up and her expression light enough as she entered the kitchen, though her composure slipped for the briefest of moments when she caught sight of her bodyguard. He stood up when she entered the room, shoving his phone into his pocket and hurriedly facing her. She blinked, remembering her plan, trying not to think about the sound of gunfire and crumbling statues. Tried not to think of the concern in his voice and the gentleness of his touch. Tried not to think about his words. I need to know that you’re okay… Well, she wasn’t. But she would act like she was until there could be no question of it. So, she raised her chin and forced herself to look confused… And she was, when he asked where she was going. Liva blinked in surprise, unsure of what he meant by the question. Hugh was looking at her outfit, she realized with a start, and shifted on her feet. It wasn’t like her to be timid and self-conscious, to squirm under the scrutiny of men, but… she was feeling a little uneasy right now, a little out-of-her-element due to the vulnerability she had revealed to Hugh earlier.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Liva countered, slightly confused as to where that idea came from. For Liva, it wasn’t unusual to where several different outfits throughout the day, to wear extravagant attire even if she just planned to laze around all day. She liked fashion, liked looking nice, and because she lived at the castle, one could never know who might be visiting, who might be wondering the halls. A princess always had to look her best. Liva shrugged, moving farther into the kitchen. She slipped past Hugh, straightening out the stool that he had so hastily pushed himself off of. Once she was satisfied with it’s alignment to the counter, she seated herself atop it with ease. “If I were to run,” She muttered, cocking her head to the side as she watched him. “would you stop me? What, would you tackle me to the ground? Point that little gun of yours at me?” She gave a weak little chuckle, not allowing herself to look at him. No, Liva kept her gaze focused on the counter in front of her, tracing the patterns in the marble with a lazy finger. She wondered if he would ask her directly about the incident outside, or if she just pretended nothing happened he would play along with her… “Do you think I look nice, at least?” Her heart wasn’t really in the teasing, but it also wasn’t in having deep, emotional, touchy-feely conversations…

She was dreading that conversation, truly, but with the weight of the silence on her shoulders, she knew he would begin to question her soon. “I’m hungry.” She said suddenly, content to keep up her calm, composed act. There was an ease in her movements, a lightness to her step, that made it seem like everything was normal. Nevermind that her eyes looked haunted… That was the one thing, it seemed, that Liva had no power over. Most people never noticed. Maybe it was because they were too nervous to look her in the eye or were more focused on other parts of her. Maybe it was because no one knew her well enough or no one cared to pay enough attention… But no one ever noticed how her eyes would look tired or sad or full of longing. She could smile and nod along and pretend to be the happiest, most spoiled little princess on the Earth, but she could never make control the emotion in her eyes - those deceitful eyes! “What’s for dinner?” She could pretend, though, she could always pretend that she wasn’t dying on the inside even if her eyes looked shadowed and tired and timeless.

Hugh was quiet for a moment, so she finally looked at him, though she was careful not to look at those startling eyes of his. “Fine, then.” She said, her determination also not sounding very convincing as she hopped down from the stool. Wordlessly, Liva moved to the refrigerator and pulled out two slices of cheese, just as she had watched Hugh do before. She sat them on the counter, moving to grab bread from one of the cabinets. The princess then tossed a glance at her bodyguard over her shoulder. “I’m making dinner.” She informed him, her tone making it clear that there was to be no negotiation. This was good for her, she thought. Making dinner was a distraction. So long as she was completing silly little tasks, she couldn’t think about things like life and death and crowns. And as long as she was concentrating on this, maybe Hugh wouldn’t try to talk to her. She was careful not to look at him again, careful to focus only on her cooking - and it did take a lot of focus for her, considering she had only done this once before and Hugh had done most of the work then.

A few minutes later, Liva emerged from the kitchen, holding two plates, each with a decent looking grilled cheese sandwich dawning it. “Here.” She said, her voice light but revealing nothing about what she was feeling. She sat the two plates down at seats across from one another and then slid into her own seat. Again, Liva said nothing before she began to eat her dinner. A fork and knife were placed on the napkin beside her and she used those to eat, looking quite odd and out of place. A princess in the real world, doing mundane things and not complaining about them. If this had been any other time and Liva had not been so conflicted, she would have been beaming right now. Look at her - making sandwiches all by herself! She should be boasting about her capabilities… but that was another thing her heart just wasn’t in. The dining room, now dim due to the darkness on the other side of the tall windows, was silent save for the clink of her silverware on her plate.

[E M M A]

There was definitely an odd air about her as she entered the kitchen, and Hugh could feel the tension roll off her in waves. Neither dared to bring up the elephant in the room, instead, avoiding each other's eyes like children. Hugh couldn't understand how he had messed up so badly, and why it was always so difficult to impress even one person, to make them happy for once. At least not make them miserable, make them want to run away and lick themselves into their room because of him. Liva pretended on top of it all to be oblivious to his question, when he asked about her intentions. He was no moron! Hugh grit his teeth, fighting the urge to throw accusations at her left and right about how she was dressed to go out and how she was acting so differently now.

"Not going anywhere?" Hugh repeated in disapproval, clearly hinting at her lying words. He thought she was lying, anyway. Why else would Liva dress up so much if she were just going to stay here with him in this miserable golden prison? Why would she go through the trouble of applying layers of makeup and straightening her hair to just sit in her new temporary home, with him as her only acquaintance? Hugh knew that her reason wasn't to impress him with her beauty, because that was simply never the case in anything. Troubled, Hugh shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck as his face warmed with embarassment. What she said stung like a slap on the cheek, burned and ingrained into his skull as those hateful, dry words were uttered from her glossy lips. When she had makeup on and was dressed so elegantly, Hugh couldn't look at her as an equal anymore, but as someone who was much higher than him.

Granted, she was a princess, and he was an orphan rat, but the lines had been blurred between social classes earlier when the two of them had just played battleship, casually lounging in the living room. Would you stop me? Point that little gun of yours at me? Was it about that now? About the gun? Hugh was at a loss for words as he inhaled sharply, taken aback by her tone. She sat where he had been sitting, her finger making figure eights and other meaningless patterns atop the cool granite. Hugh felt out of place, his feet rooted into the floor from where he stood by the oven. "I would never point a gun at an innocent person," Hugh's voice fell, his tone lacking any humor or casual air like Liva spoke to him. He hoped she understood that he wouldn't betray who he was loyal to, but he would do whatever means it took to protect them. Even if it meant a personal cost. It wasn't as if he had much else to lose, anyway, except for his sanity- and even that was losing its bearings.

Feeling sick of looking at Liva's hair all the time instead if her eyes now, he tore his gaze away from the girl, instead peeking at the phone that vibrated in his pocket. He didn't even have to read the message preview to know that it was another slur directed at him, meant to insult Hugh's incapability of talking to someone as regal as Liva. He was just too low on the food chain. He didn't deserve to talk to her. He didn't deserve to be her friend. What could he even offer to her? He didn't even know how friendships worked! With the impeding pressure from outside sources as well as the unease he experienced while standing in the kitchen, Hugh hardly had any appetite. He couldn't even look at his client, and quite frankly, he couldnt stand being here anymore. Liva never brought up the incident outside, and neither did he. The two of them were quiet, and inside Hugh's head, a war raged.

He was tempted to slip away from the kitchen away hide in his locked room, offering shelter for his bruised, misguided, and abandoned heart, yet his occupational calling wouldn't allow him to release himself into safety. He couldn't afford to let Liva sneak out again, not two nights in a row. Liva declared her hunger, then asking him what dinner was, but Hugh hardly had the energy to even lift his head for her. His pale eyes had lost its vibrance, seemingly on the dull, milky blue side of the eye color spectrum. His posture was poor, unconfident and half hearted, and his lips had fallen silent. Practically mute, Hugh wasn't in much of a mood for talking to someone who had denied him. It made him question what remained of them, if he was even allowed to talk to her in a casual manner anymore. Hugh felt as if he were treading on eggs, the shells crushed beneath his feet with every step he took.

He couldn't avoid trouble no matter how hard he tried, no matter how quickly he walked away from his problems or how cautious he was about tiptoing over the supposed eggs. "I don't know," Hugh had muttered gruffly, not even allowing himself time to think about what dinner was. He'd never cooked for more than one person, one person being himself, and usually, his meals were redundant and cheap. Nothing quality enough for a princess, anyway. He didn't want to disappoint her again and exhaust his mediocre cooking skills either, so he was somewhat relieved when she took over control in the kitchen. Hugh sunk back into the shadows, leaning his tall frame against a kitchen pantry door with his arms folded. He said nothing at all as she brandished the ingredients for a grilled cheese. For two grilled cheese. If he hadn't felt so awful, maybe he would have puffed his chest in pride as she toasted the bread to perfection.

He had no objections when she reported that she would be making dinner, allowing her to move about in the kitchen freely without disturbing her. He had put his phone into silent mode, and kept his distant eyes on a single spot on the floor a majority of the time. Within minutes, he could smell the butter and cheese, his stomach rumbling for the enticing little dinner Liva had whipped up for them. He only knew that she had bothered herself into making a second grilled cheese for him because she had set two plates onto the counter, and had handed one to him when they were done. "Thank you," Hugh murmured curtly, taking up the dish himself as Liva pranced past him to the dining table in her silly designer clothes. He wanted to smile at how perfectly Liva had accomplished the task, how she had taken in every detail he had told her in the recipe and applied it to their dinner flawlessly, but he could hardly even part his lips to take a bite.

Despite having a questionable stomach situation in being able to keep what he ate down where it belonged, Hugh forced himself to finish every bite of his grilled cheese. His teeth ground the bread mechanically, no emotion or reaction as he ate across the large table from the princess. The sun had fallen behind the horizons, and now, shadows were cast about the room. The sound of Liva's knife and fork as she cut the grilled cheese to bite size pieces happened to be the only other sound beside the crunch of the toast. No conversation made its way across the table, and Hugh didn't force any. The entire time Liva had been downstairs, neither of them had dared to look each other in the eye. They avoided the ominous subject as if they were afraid of something terrible happening if they uttered a single syllable of it, and Hugh felt himself grow more distanced as time progressed.

He scarfed down his sandwich with ease, brushing the crumbs off his palms on his pants. He didn't even care about the grease making stains on them, he just wanted to get out of there. "I'll do the dishes," Hugh insisted, as soon as he stood, wasting no time to rinse off his own plate and the pan while Liva finished her own meal in silence. When the dishes made it to the dishwasher and the pan was left to dry, Hugh immediately dismissed hismelf from the thickening air, convinced that if he had stayed any longer that he would have choked. He didn't care if Liva snuck out. He wasn't even sure if his assignment was worth keeping. He didn't even say goodnight.

Upstairs, Hugh changed out of his clothes into a pair of gym shorts, his skin still hot from how poorly dinner had gone. He was humiliated. He felt trashed. He felt betrayed, in a sense, that Liva didnt want to talk to him about what had happened outside, even when he had trusted her with more than anyone. He brushed his teeth roughly with disinterest and slapped water across his face, not even caring to neatly dispose of his clothes into his laundry hamper. The gun was set into his bedside drawer, the drawer that was then slammed shut with such violence that the nightstand had toppled backwards into the wall. Hugh's phone lay on the floor of his bedroom, littered with rude messages and a friendly calendar reminder that his bills were due in two days. With a harsh attitude and a squeezing sensation in his chest, Hugh curled up on his mattress, wide awake as he brewed.

[angelena.]

Ooh, I'm excited to write this post and get the drama started! xD I'll have a reply up soon!!!

[angelena.]

I would never point a gun at an innocent person. Liva frowned slightly and she almost said something then, almost cut through the tension in order to question him. Instead, their eyes connected briefly before she quickly looked away, moving onto the tasks of making sandwiches for the both of them. He thought she was angry with him, didn’t he? Or perhaps he suspected that she thought him a monster for being able to shoot a defenseless baby statue in a garden? While it was true that she did have a healthy amount of fear for what he was capable of, that wasn’t the issue at all… Or maybe it was. Hell, Liva wasn’t entirely sure what her issue was at all. But she knew Hugh was not the reason for her being upset. It was her. Liva was unsettled by her own capabilities, by her own life and where she was headed, by the crown that loomed over her head, by the target that seemed to be constantly pinned to her chest, by her desire to confide in Hugh about it all… Distance. Distance was the key here, it seemed. She needed to stay away from her bodyguard with his entrancing eyes and his ability to challenge that fire within her. She couldn’t take those challenges, couldn’t let herself rise to them. She feared the fire, feared what it could do. Liva Nordskov, princess of Denmark, did not want to be a Queen, did not want this life and could find no other one that would suit her.

Dinner was uncomfortable, to say the least… But Liva felt fairly numb anyway, so it wasn’t unbearable. Maybe things were awkward and quiet and stiff, but that was better, she knew. This was what she did in the castle all the time. Something would happen and she would shut down, would go numb to everything and just go through the motions. Yes, she would smile and laugh and tease… But it wasn’t the same as it had been with Hugh earlier, when the whole of her had actually been present in the moment. It was no way to live, through these personas she put on through the rest of the world, but it was better than the alternative. And she had been wearing these masks for so, so long… She wasn’t sure if she remembered what her true face looked like or what it would mean to remove every layer of falseness and uncover the soul beneath. She couldn’t let Hugh in, even if she really, really wanted to…

And she did. That was why she needed to go numb to it all, to ensure that she wouldn’t feel that sting of pain every time their eyes met and neither of them said anything. As terrifying as Liva’s experiences with Hugh had been, there had also been an underlying warmth beneath it all, something steady and contenting. She had liked the way it felt when she had curled up next to him to watch a scary movie, liked the way it felt when he had humored her through a board game and squeezed her hand when something scary jumped out on screen… She had liked the way it felt to have someone genuine at her side, because though Hugh seemed to hide his self just as much as she did, nothing seemed false about him. He didn’t put up masks, aside from a stony expression to mask his emotions. He didn’t have a million personalities, didn’t lie and cheat and scheme, not like those people in her father’s castle. And this place was so…cozy. Liva was used to big, empty feeling rooms and millions of people rushing about once the sun rose. But it was calm here. Strange that she would like something calm, considering how much she strived for danger and risk in the heart of the city. There were no adrenaline rushes to be found here, something that was a little disheartening… but it was still very, very nice.

Liva was happy to leave her dirty plate with him and hurry back upstairs, to escape before she could betray herself by asking him how her sandwich had tasted and if she had done it right. She didn’t need his praise, didn’t need his attention… She didn’t need Hugh Miles. Period. And she couldn’t - couldn’t be around him without losing herself, without losing those carefully constructed boundaries and falsities. Distance. Distance was key. So, Liva hurried back up to her room and changed once more, for what seemed like the millionth time today. Liva slipped on silk pajama shorts and a tank top, letting herself climb into her warm bed without feeling a thing. No feelings for her. She reached for the book at her bedside table before deciding against it. And then, after turning off her bedside lamp and burrowing deep into the covers, Liva closed her eyes. Don’t think. Don’t think. She was very good at not thinking now. It wasn’t long until she drifted off into dreamland…

And it wasn’t long before the dream began.

Liva thrashed in her sleep, seeing the image over and over. “Kill him… Kill him…. Kill him… Liva moved around on her bed, tossing her head and turning over and over. “Hugh… Hugh…” She mumbled in her sleep. Kill him… Kill him… In her dream, she was running towards something, running and running and running… And there were shots ringing out all around. Gun shots. The dream was nothingness and gunfire, until she saw her bodyguard standing in front of her. She ran to him without getting any closer. And then everything froze as another gun shot broke through her thoughts. Silence. Hugh looked down, blood pooling at his abdomen. “No… No…” Another shot and Hugh fell in her dream. The dream Liva rushed forward, running and running and going nowhere, running without a clear destination. She did not realize that her screams went beyond dreamland, that they came from her physical body as well, breaking through the ever-still air of the temporary home in LA.

[E M M A]

Oh dang

[E M M A]

The evening was unbearably silent, and not once did Liva come to his door like she had the first time. Seconds, minutes, hours ticked by obnoxiously on the analog clock on his dresser drawer across the dark room, it's glowing arms jerking routinely with every passing moment. Hugh's blue-eyed gaze had long since checked out of its habitual blinking, and now, he had sunken into a completely dazed mind frame. It was impossible to dig himself out of this endless pit, with dark walls to match the ones of his temporary bedroom. Not even the pale moonlight that flitted through his shutters could illuminate his hand in front of his face, as he was shrouded in darkness. All he could do was lie there, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing- almost as if he were in some sort of trance, or comatose. The exhaust and wear of the days' turn of events had finally destroyed his strong resolve to be better. He just... gave up.

He could never be good enough. He could never satisfy anyone, not for long anyway. Liva had attested to that. He had proven to himself that every person, royalty and beauty included, could not tolerate his quirky personality or his capability to be so violent. To scare, to frighten, to upset. He was so good at that. Too good. So good that here he was, once again alone after not even more than 24 hours of someone's friendship. The evening had disappointed him, but moreover, he had been the source of disappointment and anguish. He wished to close his eyes, but sleep never came as midnight neared on that analog clock. From feeling heated and frustrated initially, to now being careless and unrepsonsive, Hugh had calmed down considerably. His body felt limp and that nervous buzz in his bones had disappeared with his moods.

Glum, Hugh continued to lie there, with lack of any other tasks to accomplish or any energy to lift a single finger. So this was it. He'd crippled the relationship he'd had with his client. It wasn't worth fixing, not for the fiftieth time in two days, he supposed. It wasn't meant to work this way, and that was alright with him. Liva didn't see eye to eye with her bodyguard, and that was alright with him. Hugh would probably lose his job in the next few hours, and that was alright with him. He didn't care. All this free time had forced him to think, where his future was going. It wasn't progressing, and in fact, he felt as if he were taking big steps backwards, instead of the other way around. Debt piled up, work became more demanding and more dangerous with the experience and skill sets he developed, his body was injured more often than not, and he was seeing a decline in his mental health. All the stress from work couldn't be good for him.

Finally, at around one in the morning, Hugh's eyelids fell heavy over pale irises, his soft snores hardly audible to anyone who could be listening. He was a light sleeper when it came down to it, and perhaps that was why he was so handy for overnight shifts. It wasn't more than twenty minutes into his deep sleep when a faint voice was heard in his subconscious, a female's voice calling his name. Urgently. Hugh? Wasn't that his name? Where was he? Rolling on his side, Hugh smacked his dry lips, tucking an arm under his head to sleep still. Again, the girls voice. Whose voice was it? Why was she shrieking...? Crying now, mixed with desperate shouts of his name, propelled Hugh upright, his puffy eyes snapping open with a wild look on his face. It took a moment to adjust to his surroundings, but by then, Hugh was throwing the covers aside and snatching that awful gun from his tipped bedside drawer.

His hair stuck up on a wild mess on one side, and he forgot to grab an acceptable shirt to cover his torso in his haste, sneaking down the hallway to the source of the maddening sounds. This was an intruder! It had to be! How had this surpassed the surveillance system the CIA so boasted? Pressing his ear to Liva's bedroom door, his chest rising and falling rapidly with adrenaline, Hugh found it difficult to gauge where Liva's attacker could be. A gut wrenching scream finally encouraged Hugh to bust open the door with a startling bang, his gun barrel pointed at the bed as he took a defensive stance halfway behind the door. His heavy breathing and Liva's screaming seemed to be the only sounds that he could hear while his alert eyes scanned the room, until he realized that Liva's eyes hadn't even been open, that she was thrashing around in her sheets and mumbling things between her cries.

A flick of the light switch and a flood of illumination proved his speculations, confirming that Liva had been asleep the entire time. Overwhelmed yet relieved, Hugh caught his breath, leaning against the door frame as he recovered. Just a stupid nightmare. Nobody had attacked in the middle of the night, and the princess was fine. In his delirious, half asleep state, Hugh gained a pounding headache in his forehead, and fast. Liva's out cries had become unbearable, but he didn't know how to stop her from making those awful noises. They sounded familiar, but he didn't like to think of why. "Liva? Liva! Princess, wake up!" Hugh hissed at first in vain from the doorway, hesitant to physically shake her from her sleep. This was fruitless, as her cries only seemed to get louder, a series of "No!" erupting forcefully from her lips.

"Princess!" Hugh sat on the edge of her bed, his gun tucked into his waist band. He grasped her shoulders, allowing for a brief nudge to do the job to lure her out of her nightmare. It didn't do much justice, and he hardly avoided a claw to the face as she wriggled violently. "Liva, for the love of God-! Wake up! It's just a dream! I'm here, stop screaming-!" Hugh complained under his breath, stroking Liva's tangled and matted hair off of her forehead, at a loss for what to do. "Wake up, wake up-!" Hugh attempted at last, jostling the girl in her bed as he sat beside her, rather concerned and curious as to what her problem was. Had she really thought of him in her dream? Who was he in her dream? The awful killer? The big bad guy? He wouldn't doubt it.

[angelena.]

In her dream, Liva could have sworn she heard a voice. Everything seemed to freeze for her as her legs stopped moving, as a male’s shouts surrounded her. And then her dream world quaked. The earthquake shattered everything around her; even the body of her fallen guard erupted into shards of glass. “Liva!“ Her eyes flew open, one last scream escaping her lips as she shot up in bed. Her breathing was ragged and a cold sweat broke across her brow. Shivers raked all over her spine. It took her a few moments of blinking rapidly and trying desperately to calm her racing pulse to realize that there were hands on her shoulders and…. Those hands belonged to a man who should have been dead. Liva stared at Hugh, drinking in the sight of his worried eyes, his hair tousled from sleep, his startled expression, the rise and fall of his chest that stood as proof that he was alive. Alive. No blood stained his shirt, no gunshots sounded in the distance. It was just… a dream.

A nightmare. It had been awhile since Liva had had such a realistic nightmare. And even longer since someone had been at her side when she woke from it. When she was a little girl, there had been her mother, who would bring her hot tea and sit by her while she got everything under control. Her mother would brush the hair from her forward and murmur sweet little lullabies. She would rock the little princess back and forth, back and forth, until Liva fell into a more peaceful slumber, and then the Queen would hold her even after her eyes had shut, even after morning came and she had gotten no sleep herself. After her mother had passed, Liva had nightmares for a month afterwards and woke up with no one to hold her. She had been too old to have a nanny looking after her every minute then, and her father was much too distant, her brother still a child himself… She had just a dark room and darkness to keep her company. It was strange, Hugh being here, worry clear across his features. For a brief moment, Liva wondered if she was still dreaming.

Hugh… Liva let herself rest against him, bypassing his arms and allowing herself to lay against his chest, her head near his beating heart. Was she trembling? Liva couldn’t really tell. Rational thought had yet to reach her as she came down from the high of the night terrors… She needed Hugh, and she felt more vulnerable with him now than she had earlier, when she had pointed that stupid gun at that stupid baby statue. So, she let herself clutch him for a moment, still not completely sure that he was real. Shot… He had been shot in her dream. And he had been dead. It took her a second too long to come back to Earth, to really register that she was in her bedroom and the body she was moving belonged to her and wasn’t just some dream-like, metaphysical form. She took deep breaths, finally pulling away from her bodyguard. “Sorry…” She mumbled, though the word barely made sense to even her own ears. She slowly began to straighten herself, feeling her heart rate finally even out. Now everything seemed so…so quiet.

Still struggling to calm herself, Liva pulled free of Hugh, pulling her knees up to her chest, her back against her headboard. She created more distance between herself and Hugh, letting the cold air of her room embrace her instead. The princess stared forward, her gaze locked on nothing in particular, and went unnaturally still. The air didn’t seem too heavy, though. There were secrets looming in it, truths she wasn’t ready to face… But the silence was comforting in a whole different way to her. Her bodyguard must have turned her bedroom light on, she realized, for too-bright light flooded her vision. She blinked against it and then settled for closing her eyes to block it out. “Turn the light off.” Liva commanded softly, her voice small and barely a whisper. She needed the darkness, needed that old friend now more than ever. That stupid dream… “But don’t - don’t leave…” Liva opened her eyes then, hugging her knees a little tighter as she glanced Hugh’s way. Those words were even quieter and as soon as they were uttered, Liva wished she hadn’t said anything. But in that moment… she felt vulnerable, and she knew she couldn’t just avoid Hugh forever…

[E M M A]

ILL HAVE A REPLY UP IN AN HOUR OR LESSSSS ♡

[E M M A]

The princess bolted out of her sleep with a final jostle of her shivering body tangled amongst the sheets. She was damp with sweat, her skin cold to the touch and her face paled as her blue eyes shot wide open in panic with a scream flying from her chapped lips. For a moment, neither said a single word, Liva trembling in his hands. She could crumble in the palms of his hands if he so much as gave her a little more of a squeeze, he was certain. Having never witnessed such fear in someone before, Hugh was equally stunned. Liva seemed to stare right through him, ghost - like as she panted unsteadily through ragged panting. Her bones rattled in her petite frame with every gulp of air she inhaled, his firm grip perhaps being the only thing that was keeping her in one piece. He couldn't shake the unsettled sensation between them. He didn't like the way she was looking at him... like that. As if he were a ghost or something.

"Liva?" Hugh questioned quietly, although he knew he shouldn't have expected an immediate answer. Relief flashed behind her vacant eyes, and Liva slipped forward into his arms. Initially, Hugh froze, tense with his arms awkwardly rigid against the small of her sweaty back. Her breathing was still filled with adrenaline, his own having settled down somewhat after he'd discovered the safety of the situation. Ensuring that his gun was kept well out of sight, Hugh uncomfortably shifted on the bed, disapproving of the fact that her face was against his skin. His own pulse quickened and skipped beats, his conscience conflicting and screaming at him to push her away from him and to leave her before he got into some irreversible devastation regarding his position as Liva's bodyguard, but a little voice told him no.

No. Stay there, Hugh, it told him. Didn't he remember when he'd been just a toddler, just an infant, shaken by the night terrors he experienced as an orphan in that awful shelter? Didn't he remember waking up crying and upset, with nobody there to console him, rub his back, sing him back to sleep? Softening, Hugh slowly found himself resting his palm against her back, rythmically stroking circles. He didn't know if it helped any, but it was the only thing he'd seen others due to comfort each other. "It was just a dream, Princess," Hugh stifled a yawn, ignoring the fact that she resembled a complete teenage mess without her hair neatly kempt, her clothes being wrinkled and rumpled by her thrashing. "Just... a nightmare," he whispered in the quiet room, his groggy blue eyes shutting for but a moment. He'd never held someone... like this before. It was... different.

"Don't apologize," Hugh reprimanded immediately, stern as he narrowed his eyes at the blonde head of matted hair that had disappeared into his chest. He could clearly recall when he had always been scolded for making too much noise when he had anxiety attacks in the middle of the night, let alone little nightmares every now and then. If he had been sharing a room with others, they'd hush him, or drag his screeching body out into the commons room and leave him there, locked out of his own room for the sake of their own sleep. He could remember saying sorry, just all the time. He hated being sorry. The phrase just sounded disgusting in his mouth, he didn't want to hear it from Liva ever again. "Focus and breathe, relax," Hugh murmured, patting her back with an air of finality as she withdrew from his embrace.

Although it had been brief, his mind was exploding with the intimacy of hugging Liva. To him, it was something entirely new, foreign to his naiveté. The only bodies he'd been that close to were dead or unconsious ones, when he carried them out of harms way in the field simply because he was usually the brawny one of the team. Nothing new, really, but it was nice feeling warm breaths of life instead of a limp corpse. Sitting back, Hugh studied Liva carefully. Was she awake now? Did she realize that everything would be alright? For some reason, Hugh was more concerned with the princess than he had been when she had left the house, his priority becoming to make certain that the princess would be okay when he left, that she wouldn't be scared, or loose sleep over plagues of horror that flashed behind closed eyelids. Liva, as difficult as she could be, didn't deserve to be put through the same thing he had, alone.

Liva now squinted against the bright lights as she straightened, her hands cupped around her face to avoid the harsh lamp lighting in the bedroom. Hugh didn't think it awfully bright, but he considered turning the light back off or dimming them so that Liva could open her eyes and regain her bearings. Being disoriented, he knew, was one of the worst things to endure after a nightmare. "Off?" Hugh repeated, rising to his feet without much second thought. She was sending him out already, but he wasn't going to complain. He could have used the shut eye, to perhaps be in a better mood the next day. His weight, as it was lifted off the mattress, caused the bed to squeak loudly, Liva left behind in her mound of misarranged blankets. He couldn't have been more shocked to catch a little whisper behind him, though, one that asked him to... stay. To not leave. Hugh, incredulous as always that Liva would say such thing, questioned her.

Reaching out to the wall and turning off the lights once more in the peaceful house, Hugh found Liva's silhouette in the dark. "You... you want me to stay?" He restated softly, although he was already sinking himself once more into her matress' edge. In no more than a groggy mumble, Hugh promised. "I'll... I'll stay, until you can fall asleep." The words were exactly the words he'd always wished someone would say to him, regardless of when he was a child to when he was a grown man. From time to time, trauma acted up with pressure, stress, and amxiety, to which he could anticipate a full blown night terror that would keep him awake for the rest of the morning. Surely Liva's couldn't be ad bad as his sometimes could be, but Hugh didn't believe that their thoughts were the same. They didn't want to be alone... They wanted a friend. "Your nightmare... what was it about?" Hugh tried in the silence, sitting apart from the princess although cameras lacked a presence in the room. In the dark, he felt comfortable talking to Liva more than he would in broad daylight, perhaps because nothing divided them except for the darkness. There was no worry of social image, of appearance, or of pressure of behaving properly. In the dark, rules seemed to disappear, and Hugh could relax.

[angelena.]

Liva wished she could remember that lullaby her mother used to hum to her. Maybe if she could just remember the melody everything would…everything would be okay. The princess watched silently as Hugh got up to turn the light off, watched his startled expression when she asked him to stay with her. But she didn’t show any emotion - it wasn’t like he could see her expressions anyway in the darkness. The darkness… That cold peace. Liva’s eyes were adjusting when Hugh came back to her bed so the slight lift of the mattress on her side was the only sign that he had rejoined her, that he had complied with her wishes. “Thank you…” She murmured, her voice barely audible. For a few moments everything was quiet, and Liva’s thoughts kept going from gunshots to peaceful embraces. Back and forth, back and forth. She was cold without Hugh’s arms around her, as she always kept her room freezing to remind her of home. She hugged her knees a little tighter. Liva…God, she probably looked like a mess. With her hair wild from sleep and her clothes rumpled from her movement. Her legs were still tangled in sheets, but she kicked them away, needing the cold to clear her head.

When he asked about her nightmare, Liva could merely shake her head. “Just…just shut up for a minute, Hugh.” She didn’t say it with hostility or anything, which was unusual for her. Instead of telling him about her nightmare, for she didn’t think she could bring herself to say those words aloud, Liva let herself lay against him, eliminating any space he had tried to create between them. She lay her head on his shoulder as she had done earlier that day, when they had sat beside each other to watch that crappy horror movie. As Liva rested against him, she closed her eyes, even though the lights had already been turned off and calm darkness flooded her bedroom. She took steadying breaths. Eventually, Liva had no choice but to open her eyes, because behind her eyelids she was reliving the scene from her dream. She could still hear that gunshot, still see Hugh’s lifeless body falling to the ground in a pool of his own blood… No, she couldn’t think about that. Hugh was right here beside her, alive and breathing and completely free of bullet wounds. Just…just a dream. It was all just a terrible dream.

A silence settled over the room, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one like the quiet at dinner had been. This was a contenting sort of silence, the kind where someone’s mere presence was calming enough to fill it. But Liva’s thoughts were chaotic, swarming around like mad in her skull like bullets ricocheting. Bullets… Guns… God, why couldn’t she have just shot that stupid baby statue and not put them through all this? Would that fix the problems, if she were to march out there right this second and place a bullet through that stupid angel’s eyes? “I’m not afraid of you, Hugh…” She said suddenly, her voice soft and quiet in the darkness. Speaking too loud seemed wrong for this moment, and Liva wasn’t exactly sure why she had said it to begin with. But what he had said earlier, about not killing innocent people… As if he thought she had needed reassurance. Yes, Liva was well aware of the fact that he was a trained killer and she knew that his skills with a gun just stood as proof of that. “I… It wasn’t about that…”

The words seemed to come a little easier now than they might have earlier. Maybe that was because Liva felt so tired, so drained. The thought of holding them back any longer exhausted her. And she… she needed someone to talk to about it all, needed to talk and let someone here her. Waking up to find Hugh’s worried eyes had come as quite the shock. Knowing that someone was there to wake her up from her nightmares and to hold her until she stopped shaking… It was very, very strange. “Guns make people powerful, don’t they?” She whispered, staring straight ahead at the opposite wall. “I don’t want power… none at all….” Because she could be powerful, because Liva had the capacity to become a brilliant queen, and she knew that by rising to her full potential she would be accepting all the responsibilities that came with it. “What right do I have, Hugh… To choose who lives and who dies?”

[E M M A]

Although Hugh attempted to convince Liva to tell him what had happened, he was unsuccessful, and instead, was told to shut up. He obliged, in fact relief that she didn't expect conversation from him. It made it easier on his foggy mind to have its time to start to wake up, as it was still geared in panic mode. He hated that disorienting jolting feeling when he was startled out of his sleep, as it seemed to remain for several minutes until it faded somehow. Hugh readjusted himself on Liva's bed, gingerly pressing his bare back against the cold edge of her headboard amongst a smorgasbord of fluffy, elegant down pillows. One long leg stretched out on the mattress, while the other hung over the edge and stabilized him from falling off the bed. His large hands fumbled with the gun in his lap, safety being switched on immediately before it was put aside on her nightstand to prevent any accidents. He hoped that he had disabled every last camera that remained in her bedroom, although he was still too groggy to remove himself from Liva's presence. He was technically obeying her orders, right?

The bed shifted and he detected the princess' movement towards him. Before he could protest, she had situated herself snuggled up against his shoulder again, Hugh's arm casually draped over her petite frame. Just for comfort. Her skin was cold, clammy, and bristled with chills, while his was warm and steady, strong. He faltered when she touched him, growing weary and anxious about her being so close to him. He wasn't so comfortable, but in that situation, he couldnt bring himself to leave her, reject her while she was so unstable. Hugh didn't know what to do with his hand as it dangled off her shoulder, his inexperience around girls becoming clearly evident. He eventually settled for sliding his strong arm behind her back, engulfing her in a hug - like embrace.

His blue eyes had begun to flutter shut, when her timid voice interrupted. "Afraid of me?" Hugh restated, uncertain what the declaration had to do with anything. She promised him that "It wasn't about that", but Hugh was clueless as to what she was referencing. His eyebrows knit iver his bright irises, his head tilted to glimpse Liva's eyes looking right back at him. He didn't interject to clarify what it was that they were talking about, and it was good that he hadn't. The princess continued, and when guns were mentioned, Hugh understood. Liva was referring to earlier, in the garden. When he had told her to shoot the cherub, and she was mute, immobile, frozen to the spot. "I suppose," Hugh answered, his deep voice rumbling in his chest in the quiet room despite his attempts to keep his voice down.

She posed a rhetorical question to him, the words hanging over his head in the silence. It made him feel guilty, yet, angry at the same time. It wasn't fair, for anyone to choose someone else's fate, to end their life with a simple flex of their finger. "Sometimes you don't have a choice. Sometimes... its either you, or them," Hugh mumbled. It was either you shoot them, or they shoot you. Or worse, they take your companions life. Hugh had experienced this when he had hesitated to shoot a man in his earlier career years, and that had cost Hugh his field partner. "You get used to it, after a while," he supposed. Killing. It got easier once you had been put through enough trauma, and seen so much heartless bloodshed. It then plagued, invaded your mind without warning, it took over until you were driven crazy.

"I won't make you touch another gun again," Hugh promised after speculation, shaking his head as he averted his eyes in the dark from liva. Had that caused her her nightmare? The horrifying thoughts of hurting someone else with such ease? Was that why she had disappesred, refused to talk to him? Hugh was beginning to read Liva better, understanding that although she displayed a tough and indistructable character for everyone to see, she was tender, innocent, sheltered inside. "It's not safe, anyway. Try to get some sleep, princess," Hugh sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He didn't want to talk about guns, killing, fighting, death. He saw enough of that on a daily basis, thought about it too often.

[angelena.]

(view spoiler)[I'm so sorry! I haven't had a lot of time recently and I know this is kind of an important moment in this roleplay, so I didn't just want to half-ass my reply or anything cause I was in a hurry. I just got back from rehearsal and I'll actually have some time to think on this, so I promise I'll have a reply up later tonight!!! I LOVE YOU! DON'T HATE ME!!! :( :( :( (hide spoiler)]

[angelena.]

Aww! I swear I'm still here! I just want don't want to mess up this moment in the RP. O.O

[angelena.]

Liva had stopped shaking by the time he slid a strong arm around her, and she would be eternally grateful for that fact. Just as she was grateful for his comforting embrace now. It felt…natural, being here with him at such a time and allowing him to comfort her. The warmth of his skin seemed to drive out the chill in her bones and reassurance in his touch was enough to rid her of darkness and fears. It was different now than it had been earlier, when they had watched that stupid horror movie together. Then she had rested against his side and he had not moved an inch. Then there had been the camera in the corner, the man on the other side criticizing every move he made. Then it had been simple for Liva to lay her head on his shoulder and convince herself that the action meant next to nothing. Here, in the darkness with no eyes upon them, Liva didn’t feel that restlessness she had felt in the living room, didn’t feel that…fear, that fear that Hugh seemed to extract so easily from her just because the thought of caring for another human being terrified her…almost as much as the thought of another human being caring for her did.

Perhaps the silence would have been more comforted if she didn’t add weight to it, if her own conscience didn’t force her to speak of the terrors of earlier… And yet, she found it easier to talk of those things here with him, felt the words pour out of her with barely any strain. For a moment, Liva was worried that she had upset Hugh with her question. She hadn’t meant to do that, of course, nor had she meant to make him out to be some villain for his ability to shoot a living being. She understood the necessity of it all, understood everything that he said and agreed thusly… But it was different for her, she supposed. Or maybe Liva wasn’t just talking about guns anymore. Maybe this whole issue was something else entirely, something bigger, monumental. A queen had the power to decide the fates of so many… Just as, when he had a gun between his hands, Hugh had that ability. Liva was not the type of person who should have that power. She had never asked to be a queen, just as she had told him early that morning in the training room. Sometimes you don’t have a choice, Hugh said presently. “Believe me,” Liva whispered in reply. “I know…”

Liva knew the world was a dark, dreadful place. She knew it deep down, even if she put on a cheerful expression and acted as though she couldn’t care less about politics or even the feelings of an individual she might pass on the street. If she ignored it all long enough, she thought, perhaps it would all just disappear and she could wake up in a world where she didn’t have to worry about thousands of people relying on the guidance of her, a troubled young woman who had nearly went home drunk with a stranger last night, who couldn’t hold a gun without having a panic attack, who flirted shamelessly with young men and drank until she puked and spent thousands on clothes each month while plenty of people couldn’t afford them. She wasn’t her mother, wasn’t worthy of her father’s crown… Strange, how Liva could be so arrogant and yet so full of self-hate. She was a walking contradiction. She wanted to play things safe when it came to the crown and politics, and yet she craved adrenaline like a dying man would water. She flirted and teased and felt loneliness as a dull, constant ache, yet the thought of letting anyone near her heart terrified her.

“Is that what you did?” Liva asked softly, daring a glance up at his face. She wasn’t sure whether or not she was grateful that his expression was clouded in darkness. There was a brief silence and Liva felt a chill rake over her body, making her sidle closer to her bodyguard. She pulled the sheet her legs had been tangled in up, though it did little to keep out the constant cold of her room. She had never really noticed how low the temperature was until now. Liva closed her eyes, taking deep breaths again as visions of her nightmare came to her again. This was the type of life Hugh had always led, wasn’t it? Maybe she had reason to be terrified of…something going wrong. “It’s…it’s not about the stupid guns. I - I still want to learn.” Liva amended quietly, set in her resolve. She could handle firing a gun or learning self defense because truth be told…these were things she needed to know. She just needed to keep herself in check, keep her mask securely in place. There was another moment of dark and quiet… And then she heard his deep, rumbling voice again and let it wash over every inch of her. Princess… It took her a moment to understand what all he had said because that word was a bit of a distraction. She really liked how he called her that. “I don’t know if I can sleep, Hugh…” She murmured. “Or if I want to.” She didn’t want those disturbing nightmares again, that was for certain. Liva suddenly gripped his arm a little tighter. “S-stay, though… Would you stay here with me?” She asked, her voice far too quiet and timid to be her own. But she couldn’t stand the thought of being all alone in this darkness…in this dreadful, dreadful world.

[E M M A]

YAS OMG

[E M M A]

Hugh felt Liva's soft blonde locks tickle his shoulder as she tilted her head up at him, if only briefly, to question him in a timid whisper. Is that what you did? He supposed he could tell her that yes, ending lives got easier and easier with practiced hands, but he would just be lying. Even if Hugh was seen as some heartless being, something still irked him every time he pulled that trigger, or used his bare hands to choke someone until their eyes rolled back into their heads grotesquely. "Maybe," Hugh murmured vaguely, choosing to not answer Liva's questions directly. Perhaps it was better that way. Safer. It wasn't something Hugh was keen on explaining the technicalities of, and Liva was better off not knowing anyway how he really functioned. How killers functioned. All he was responsible was for her safety, not filling her with these dark ideas.

Her small frame had sidled into the side of his lean torso, pressed close to his skin as if it were the most natural thing. For once, Hugh wasn't complaining. He was content. Despite the harsh ruling he had always kept himself under, as well as the terms of the contract he had signed with his illegible scrawl of a signature not more than three days prior, Hugh didn't want to part from that Danish, blonde princess. He liked the weight her head had on his chest, the way she fit under his arm like the perfectly carved piece to a puzzle. In his delirious and muddled phase of thought process, Hugh had even readjusted himself to better accomodate her position. In the cold, breezy room, veiled in black with eerie shadows in the corners, it was understandable why Liva might have been curled so close to him. She trusted him to protect her from the evils of the world for the time being, and Hugh was dedicated to even dispelled the terrible nightmares, the looming immorality of her pursuers, on top of his other responsibilities.

Had Liva not been who she was, personality speaking, Hugh would not have obliged to stay behind in her room to comfort her. In fact, he wouldn't have even bothered to leave his bedroom at the sound of her screams, but he would have checked the cameras he wouldn't have disabled earlier, from the simplicity of his own bedroom. Liva... she was... special. In Hugh's eyes, she had held a high position on his pedestal, had been someone who had been of great influence even in three days. It wasn't often that certain people, particularly clients, had dwelt in his memory, been turned over in his thoughts, or had aggravated his stony emotions to be aroused into something that was much different. Since his boss had proven himself to be a vengeful psychopath with only one aim to torture an employee, Hugh had been rather removed from society more so than he originally had been to begin with. Liva could uplift him, she could support him, she accepted his help, she listened. Not in just the command aspect, but Liva could hear his complaints, or would regard his troubled words with compassionate ones of her own.

For someone who had been mocked and kicked aside his entire life, Liva wasn't so bad, despite her bothersome attitude and flares of mood swings. Hormonal? He wasn't so sure. He couldn't tell. All he knew was that Liva was someone he associated with the word safe in his mind, although it often was reminded to him that no one was to be trusted. For now, Liva was his "safe". While he provided physical shelter, she protected his emotions- all the while disrupting them in a way that seemed... human. He felt like something more than just a shell, just a walking shield. Hugh had somewhat more of a purpose. In other circumstances, maybe Liva would prove him wrong and foolish, but for the given moment, while he sat beside the princess, he could believe it. Friendship had never seemed so tangible, within his grasp. If he'd only reach out and take it, it was his. He would have, if Liva hadn't reached out first.

Sighing with uncertainy, Hugh gave Liva a sideways glance in the dark, chewing the dry insides of his cheek that felt thick with sleep. It had been about the guns, he was certain of it! What else could it have been? Puzzled and perplexed, Hugh narrowed his eyes. "I can't force you," Hugh began to say, hesitation evident in his slow words. "But guns, Liva..." he trailed off. Did she really know what they did? What its mechanisms were capable of? Of how detrimental and permanent its effects were? She was still so innocent. Hugh knew that weapons were damaging, evil, and not for the use of everyone. He shouldnt have ever brought it up, or considered allowing her to lay a finger on that black metal object. Hugh knew how damaging gun usage could be mentally and emotionally, and if he were to be responsible for corrupting Liva's mind... He'd never forgive himself. Ever.

"I'll decide tomorrow," Hugh muttered with dismissal, although the decision had already been finalized in his stubborn mind. No, as the answer always was. He couldn't let her get hurt by opening a door to disaster and destruction. On top of that, it was untold how spontaneous he could be with Liva around, keeping in mind that the entire premise was monitored 24-7 by those who wished to see him cripple. Liva's sleepy response came, her soft accent heavy with trouble. "You should try, sleep will come easy," Hugh lied, attempting to close the matter with his usual empty air of rejection. Her fingers dug into his forearm then, her plea echoing in his head. Stay... would you stay here with me? The phrase sounded all too familiar. It was a vulnerable one, one that he had uttered to the workers at the orphanage, to the older boys at the home when he had begged them to keep him safe from the clowns under his rickety bed.

It reminisced too many memories of loneliness, of being abandoned by someone who was selfish, rude, someone who he had looked up to. Naturally, Hugh hesitated. Who cared? She was just Liva, right? Why did he care about what she felt, why did he want to make her happy at all when she constantly put him through so much trouble and anguish? "O-of course, of course I'll stay," Hugh found himself saying tenderly to her, his head spinning. The words just sounded foreign off his tongue. What was he thinking? Was he thinking at all? Why was he so distracted and unsettled by how her voice wavered, how it had pleaded with him? He cursed her feminine charm, her natural uncanny ability to persuade. "But not for long," he huffed in compromise to his own dysfunctional thoughts. His weight shifted on the bed as he moved the pillows behind his back for better support, his body sinking into their plush fabrics.

With Liva curled somewhat against his chest, tucked under his armpit, his eyes had begun to feel heavy. He blinked frequently in the dark, often stealing stares at the blonde. He could barely make out her features, the eyelashes, the faint glimmer in her eyes if she tilted her head a certain way towards the window. "You aren't scared of monsters, are you?" Hugh's voice came in the silence, his head tilted towards the ceiling fan as he searched the endless black for some sort of image. He had asked her in a teasing manner, although he had been curious as to what her nightmare had been about. Why she'd been yelling his name in the first place, if she was still asleep when he had kicked down the door. He knew, though, how bad dreams functioned. He'd had them before, although they had been far more traumatizing than Liva's seemed to be. If Liva was afraid of monsters, so be it.

[angelena.]

“Easy?” Liva echoed, voice a little raspy with sleep deprivation. “I suppose your right… I think it’s the waking up part that’s truly hard.” She didn’t mean the physical act of regaining consciousness, really. No, Liva, for a moment, spoke of a different sort of awakening, the kind that took place in the mind or the heart or the soul. For a second, her tone was wistful, eyes far away as though she could see worlds within the darkness. And for a second, she could. Liva felt quite small in comparison of that vastness, even as her mind created a replacement for it. Rather than this dark bedroom, she envisioned her home, a castle of stone and legacy. She thought of it’s winding corridors and grand ballrooms, of it’s stuffy meeting spaces with their long tables, of it’s deceitful people and those rare few that Liva had admired in her life. She thought of her mother gliding gracefully through the halls, radiating power and authority and kindness and otherworldliness. Her mother, the former Queen of Denmark, had spoken with such grace and eloquence, had walked with her head held proudly but her feet firmly tethered to the ground. She was everything Liva had once aspired to be… And everything she had not become, everything she was afraid to be and afraid of not being. Queen…

Liva moved slightly and the bed that she could not call her own groaned softly against the wooden floor. Her bed back home never made sounds like that… Perhaps it was the change in atmosphere that had resulted in her restless sleep, in her chaotic dreams. It was a combination of the groaning bed and the dry air and the view outside her window being different. Her madness was nothing but misplacement, a homesickness that plagued her mind and distorted her thoughts… Because why would she have dreamed of Hugh? Why should she care about him one way or another? Bodyguards of her family had died before, been killed while fulfilling their duty to the crown, and Liva had barely given them a thought. Then again, she had never really thought of them as people. Just nameless, faceless shadows. Hugh, on the other hand, was a living, breathing individual. He was flesh and blood and emotion, and Liva knew him better now than she would have liked to, even though she hardly knew the man at all. “I’m fine, Hugh… I swear I’m fine. I can handle shooting a stupid statue just fine. And besides, I kind of need to learn this stuff in case you do something stupid…” There was a bit of bitterness in her voice as she said that, as though she cursed him already for the reckless choices he might make in the future that would harm himself.

When Hugh vowed to stay with her, even though her nightmare had passed and sleep would soon take her again, Liva felt relief wash over her. She sagged against him and against her pillows, finding infinite comfort in his presence. Liva nearly laid down now, glad for the darkness that surrounded her and kept at bay the lines that would divide her and Hugh now. She didn’t want divisions, didn’t want to worry about appearances or statuses or her own philosophies. All she wanted from this moment was that warmth, that contenting warmth, that seemed to flow from Hugh into her. After such an exhausting day, after everything that had happened in her world… God, for once, Liva just wanted to be held. She relaxed into his arms, curling into him with natural ease. She could hear his heartbeat from her position, steady and strong and reassuring. Alive, unlike he had been in that dreadful dream of hers. She could still here the shot pounding in her skull, but the sound had become a dull sort of ache, falling as background noise against the steady beating of Hugh’s heart in her ear.

“Not of monsters…” Liva let out a dull, humorless chuckle. “I fear no monsters, Hugh, aside from the ones that dwell inside me, that dwell inside us all.” She hadn’t meant to say it, but the words had come easily and more truthfully than anything she had said to Hugh within the past few days. The root of every problem of hers was that fear. Fear of not monsters or scary things lurking in the dark, not guns or death or pain… But fear of herself, of every human being and their capabilities. Liva thought this over for a moment, staring into the dark of the room and feeling as though she stared at the shadows that existed within her. And then she let out a soft sigh, adjusting herself into a more comfortable position against Hugh. The sheets whispered against her skin like a gentle caress. “Thank you, Hugh… for everything.” She craned her neck up then in order to place a gentle kiss on his cheeks, her lips lingering against his skin for perhaps a second too long. When she pulled back, she simply closed her eyes, laying her head against his chest. “Even if you are at times insufferable.” She mumbled in addition, which wasn’t an uncommon thing for her to say. Always balancing out the dark and the light, searching for cheerful, careless things to say to hide the terror of her situation. "I hope you're right... that sleep will come easy. Being awake gets more and more difficult all the time..."

[E M M A]

((AHHHHHHH ♡ should i ff to morning? What kind of day do we have planned next? Should we skip a few days before theyre given grief again from hughs boss? Or shall we have them go out adventuring :3))

[angelena.]

((Um... I'm not sure, really. xD I kind of think it should be the next day cause they can be kind of awkward and cute around each other after last night and all, but what should we have them do???))

[E M M A]

((I dont know!!! We could get bavk into training, like hugh wakes her up at nine and forces her to get ready and go on a run and practice her punching and they end up wrestling Dx hahaha or they could finally go out for errands, like maybe she starts her period and needs tampons xD lots of awkward there. OR maybe liva teaches him something for once, forces him to open up a little more. Still holding back on his history tho for like a few weeks into his job.

OR his boss comes over for an inspection or whatever, tensions there

And we could also start narratinf her brother working rogether with hughs actual dad, the head of the terrorists or whatever he was))

[angelena.]

((UGH I LIKE ALL OF THOSE IDEAS WHAT DO WE DO?!!!! I think... Hm, I think the training thing would make the most sense - and then maybe they could go into the errands and stuff??? We can just have all that you said be the whole day. So, training, errands/period, and then boss???))

[E M M A]

Sure! I xan get on it afrer i shower and give my phone a little charge. When are you gettinf off??? I love them so much