Right Now I'll Stay with You

Michael

Michael chuckled nervously as his mother straightened the tie that she had tied, deeming his previous efforts not acceptable. Even though it should have been perceived as an insult, he smiled, kissing his mom on the cheek, "Thanks."

She gave him a hug. "I know, I'm fussing too much. But this is the last dance in high school you will ever go to and I want it to be perfect when you ask her to the dance. It is only three weeks away and you need to plan your gown and suit accordingly and the flowers and—"

"I know mom," he said with a smile, "She will love it. I worked very hard on this and your help only perfected it. Even if I called her over the phone she'd be happy." Well… maybe that wasn't true, but the point was, "Mom, I think Annabelle and I will just be happy going with each other. That's all."

She smiled, "Well, the car is waiting for you. Louis confirmed that the dinner was all ready in the pavilion. They have the heaters there so that you could eat outside because even with the screens down, it is a little chilly. When you get there, tell her I said hello."

Michael thanked his mother one more time before leaving his father's private office at the school, and walking a few steps through the lazily drifting snow to the car. His driver cordially opened the door for him before he realized… "Jamison?"

"Hey prince," He chuckled. "Sorry I didn't tell you before. I was just looking for a way to earn some cash so I'm driving limos now after school and on weekends."

"I— I didn't know you had a license to drive…" Michael simply said. He was more impressed than anything however, knowing of the extensive tests the drivers had to pass in order to be hired.

"Are you kidding? Driver's course was the first class I signed up for when we got here. I had my license easily. Within a month and a half. This job is something I really enjoy." he smiled. Michael believed him.

"The uniform looks good on you." Michael said, unable to help himself as he teased.

Jamison rolled his eyes, "Whatever, let's just get you to your princess, prince." He shut the door when Michael had climbed in. His not-so-secretive guards climbed into a car behind Michael, one guard climbing into the passenger seat beside Jamison.

"Whatever happened to Damien?" Jamison asked, "I kinda liked him."

Michael frowned, "Well, the fact that Gisa knocked him out cold so easily and left me unguarded against an attacker didn't bode well for his career."

"Oh." Jamison was silent for a moment. "Do you know what happened to him after that?"

"No. I don't think he will be able to be a hired guard anymore. Many of the articles that came out around that time also included the fact that my father hired an incompitent guard. Unfortunately, Damien was named in every single one I read."

"Yikes," Jamison said as the GPS instructed him to turn. "What a way to end his career. I can't imagine how hard he must have worked to get to that position."

Michael fell silent, nodding. It was a shame. He really had liked Damien. Ever since then his father had doubled the guards and increased security both in the school and in the entire castle that lay only a few miles from the school. Michael didn't doubt that his father had installed cameras in their summer home for the coming season next year.

He sighed heavily and they rode in silence for a few minutes longer. Michael watched as Jamison periodically and discreetly looked back at Michael. Was he worried?

"So, are you going to ask Jules to the dance?" Michael asked, easing the awkwards silence.

"I already did, you didn't hear?" Jamison asked. "Two nights ago."

"What?" Michael smiled, sitting up straighter, "I want to hear about it."

"Well, one of the bonuses of having a job is that I can afford to do cute things like this for her, so I saved up enough to purchase this bear we pass by in the shopping mall all the time. Every time we would shop together she'd exclaim how cute it was with the scarf and hat. Anyway, I enlisted her friends' help. After I presented the bear and asked her to come with me, she said she would love to go. Her friends had gotten her to get all dressed up and one of those friends who is taking a photography class, did a fun photo shoot for us with the bear. Nothing super extravagant, but—"

"What? No! That was super cute Jamison!"

"So I hear you're going to ask Annabelle tonight. What's the plan?" Jamison asked, his eyes staying on the road as they turned up a sharp corner.

"Well I had one of our chefs cook her favorite meal. We're going to eat dinner at the pavilions by Crescent lake. I was hoping there wouldn't be clouds, it makes the stars reflect off the water, but it will be pretty in this light snow anyway. After that, I have a bunch of pictures from when we were little until now that I made into a slideshow and I'll ask her after that."

"I like it." Jamison said. "The slideshow is a cute idea. Do you have music to go with it?"

"I do. But I don't know if I should use it. It is a song she actually wrote and sang with some of her friends a year ago. She decided not to publish it at the last second, but I still have a copy."

"Can I hear it?" Jamison asked.

Michael hesitated as he looked down at his phone. "I don't know, she hasn't shared it with anyone lightly."

"No, I get it." Jamison said, stopping at a red light. The sky was beginning to darken. "Though I wouldn't be able to tell anyone really," he chuckled.

Michael nodded, "Well, just don't tell her I showed you."

"No problem, honestly, that girl scares me. I don't need to talk to her in the first place."

"Scares you?"Michael asked, slightly amused as he grabbed the cord to plug his phone into the car.

"She just has that presence. She's very confident, which is good, but her facial expressions always promise me some horrible end when I look." Jamison laughed at Michael's returning glare, "No, she's really pretty, and I'm sure she is a nice person when you get to know her. She just has an icy first impression I suppose."

Michael couldn't argue with that. He hit play on the song.

Memories flooded him as the piano played the intro. She'd written it last year during her spring semester.

A lilting, feminine voice softly sang a duet with the piano. "Like I can't always remember the feeling of that ember. But the sparks I felt have blazed, and we still have a few days…" her voice lifted, the notes holding before a few more instruments joined, and she sprang into the chorus, more voices joining and adding a harmony.

Jamison raised an eyebrow, meeting Michael's gaze in the mirror. "Wow." He blinked, "Michael, she is really talented. This song is really good."

Michael smiled, listening to her voice, "Maybe it was better, maybe it was worse. But I can't say that I'm sorry that I've fallen in this curse. 'Cause there's me and you, and we're in this together. There's me and you, and I'll hold your hand forever."

He sighed, closing his eyes as her music washed over him, reminding him of the simpler times. Back when they didn't argue all the time, when she had been so honest and open. When they had truly begun to fall in love.

"Just tell me that you love me, Just tell me that you care. Just hug me like I matter and wipe away my tears. 'Cause there's me and you, and we're in this together. There's me and you, and I'll hold your hand forever." The other instruments died down, the piano playing by itself before Annabelle joined it once more, "I may not always remember the feeling of that ember, but I know I will remember the words you said In December… I love you, and I know you love me too. I love you, and so hold my hands and kiss me sweet and I'll love you until all that's left is the feeling of our heartbeats."

And as the song ended, Jamison turned onto the gravel drive that led to the pavilion. He didn't say anything, and Michael was glad of it. He blinked back the tears that had appeared out of nowhere. The last words of the song was what he'd confessed to her on the winter solstice two years ago when she had been too sick to go to the dance. He'd skipped it and brought over some takeout food to her dorm. He wished they could feel that way again.

Jamison opened the door for Michael, still silent. He nodded his thanks before walking towards the pavilion where the food was set up. Hopefully Annabelle would be there soon enough. He settled down to wait, checking over his plans once, twice, a third time he checked before he decided to call her. They had ended on a good note and hadn't fought in a while. She had to know this was his proposal for the dance. She wouldn't stand him up, right?

He called her phone. It rang until he hit voicemail. Frowning, he called his mom.

"Hey Michael, shouldn't you be eating dinner?" She responded after saying hello.

"She um… isn't here mom." Michael sighed, hiding his frustration, "Do you think something is wrong?"

His mother sighed, "Well, I can always call her father if you would like. He seems to be closer to Annabelle than her mother. He might know if something was up. Did you call Annabelle first?"

"She didn't pick up. It went to her voicemail." Michael answered.

"Hmm. Well, I'll call her father and let you know if I find something out."

They said their goodbyes, and Michael trudged back to the limo where it was warmer. The heaters weren't as good as he had hoped. Plus, he could use company.

"What time did you say?" Jamison asked as they sat facing each other in the back. "Six-thirty." Michael answered. It was nearly ten minutes past then. "She didn't answer her phone. I'm waiting for my mother to call me back to see if she found anything out. I'm a little worried that Annabelle didn't answer. I sent her a message as well, but she hasn't read it."

"Well, I'm sure there is an explanation. You two have been together so long that I can't imagine you would be stood up." Jamison offered. "Trust me, I think there is an explanation for this. A good one."

A few minutes later, his mother's contact showed up on his screen. "Mom?"

He could hear a muffled cry on the other side, "Baby I think you should come home."

"Mom. Mom, what's wrong?" Michael motioned for Jamison to go. "Take me to the castle please." Jamison hastily obliged, jumping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. "Mom, why are you crying."

"Can it wait until you get home?"

"Mom, I'm really worried now." Jamison peeled onto the main road, undoubtedly driving as fast as he could on the snowy roads.

"Honey it's Annabelle."

"Mom, tell me." His pulse quickened, his body shaking with anticipation.

His mother choked back a sob, "Her handmaid walked in this morning in her suite and found her on the floor." she paused, Michael's head swum.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice surprisingly clear through the blind panic he was enduring.

"There was a bottle of pills all over the ground. She was rushed to the hospital, they aren't sure… aren't sure." his mom couldn't finish. And he didn't need her to.

"Which hospital?" he swallowed hard. He looked at Jamsion who nodded and headed towards the hospital which was closest to the school. "We'll be there soon mom." He said before they hung up.

He ran a hand through his hair after his mom promised to meet him there. Pills. Had she really been… Why hadn't she told him something was wrong? "Annabelle…" he mumbled, resting his head in his hands. Why didn't she say something? She'd seemed fine… she had gone out with her friends twice this week. She'd had a performance playing piano that she had absolutely nailed. He'd thought she'd been doing better…

It had happened once before. Their first year of high school. She told him she didn't feel like living, and he hadn't quite believed her. But he had promised to do better after that time, and she had forgiven him. She'd healed…

The hospital came into view over the hills.

He didn't remember bursting into the hospital and being shown to her room in a private wing of the hospital. The long trek up to that section left his mind empty, his heart a void of emotion.

As the door to the wing opened, a woman stood up to see who it was. Annabelle's grandmother. When she saw him, her face crumpled, and Michael embraced her tightly. She may as well have been his own grandmother. He spent more time with her than he did with his own anyway.

"I know," he whispered as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I thought she was done with this. Why didn't she tell any of us?" She spoke over her tears.

"Can I see her?" Michael asked.

She shook her head. "The doctors are inside with her right now. They said she is stable enough, but they don't want anyone there for now."

They didn't even want people looking in it seemed. The window was shaded and the door shut tightly. Not even a sound escaped the room.

"Where's her dad?" Michael asked, swiveling to scan the waiting room, empty besides the two of them. Even Michael's guards politely waited outside.

"He's flying home right now." Annabelle's grandmother responded. "He was on a trip to discuss some other trade deal with another country. He left as soon as he was notified."

Michael shook his head as the two of them took a seat. "I know that neither of us want to talk about this at the moment," he began, this indeed being the subject he least wanted to broach, "But has anyone found out about her being here? Doctors and nurses are being kept quiet? The maid that found her?"

She wiped her eyes, "The maid that found her has been with our family for nearly thirty years. She found Annabelle the… the first time this happened. She'd never say anything. She loves Annabelle as much as she loves her own children. The doctor's of course won't say anything. Even to work in this wing they have to have a high clearance."

Michael nodded. They had a private wing for royalty for a reason in the large hospital. "So you think this won't get out? The ambulance that took her?"

She set her mouth into a line, "I didn't think about that."

Sighing, Michael stood, walking outside, promising to take care of it for her. He tasked one of his guards with finding the information and trying to tame it. It was dark outside, and they possibly may not have seen who it was, but they didn't want to take any chances. They had somehow miraculously kept the other incident their freshman year from the press. Very few people knew about it.

He remembered seeing her in the hospital after the first time. She was so quiet, even when she was awake. She never said a word the whole time in the hospital. And after she'd gotten out she'd been berated with questions.

"What do you mean you're quitting the dance team?"

"You aren't going to publish your songs anymore?"

"Why'd you give up the violin?"

"You aren't taking advanced classes? You're smrt enough be top of the class!"

"They're your friends, they just want to talk to you."

Not his questions, but questions he heard three hundred times over as he stood by her side throughout her recovery.

He visited her every day before their classes started over break. She didn't feel well enough to go to the Spring semester the first few weeks. He took her books and materials to her suite every day and studied with her. She never smiled, but when she took his hands gently, it made him smile. It was her own way of saying thanks, even if she still hadn't yet spoken more than a few words at the same time. Simple "no" or "yes" was all she could manage before her eyes would fill with tears.

He wished she would let them fall. "Annabelle, you're so strong. And I'm proud of you." He whispered one Friday afternoon. She looked up at him, whispering a "thank you."

And Monday she went back to class. She told everyone that she'd had the flu and didn't want to get anyone sick. Michael didn't want to smother her, but he couldn't help checking in with her after every class. Would this time be the same way?

"Did you want to see her?"

Michael opened his eyes. He'd fallen asleep in the plush chair he chose. Annabelle's grandmother was standing by a bed in the room whose curtains had been drawn back. He nodded his thanks to the doctor, rising to his feet and walking to the door.

His heart jolted as he thought through the painful healing process of last time. He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling a sharp breath. He took another step into the room, closing his eyes.

It took him a moment, but he opened his eyes. Annabelle was laying down, her eyes open, her grandmother holding both of her hands, kissing them gently. Annabelle stared at her grandmother with a gentle stare. Almost an apology?

She saw Michael entering the room. "Hey," he whispered awkwardly. His chest was tight. She was so small, her eyes underlined with deep purple. He didn't know when she'd lost weight.

He was surprised when she whispered back hoarsely, "Hey,"

He walked over, avoiding the IV and other things scattered about her bedside. Brushing a hand through her limp hair, he kissed her forehead. He didn't say anything further. He'd learned that sometimes she preferred him to just be there. To be there with her.

"I'll be back okay?" her grandmother said, standing up. "Do you want anything? Water? Something to eat?"

"Just a water, thanks Mammi." She responded. She turned her head to Michael. "I'm sorry." her voice broke.

"No, no, no no." Michael said, still brushing through her hair with his fingers. "You don't have to apologize."

A few tears dripped down her cheeks. "I should have told you," her voice wavered slightly.

He sat down on her bed, looking her in the eyes, "You don't have to tell me anything. I just want to help you, okay?" she nodded, biting her lip to keep herself calm, "Whatever you need I will give it to you, okay?"

"Sometimes I just don't want to be here. There's no point. I'm living a life I don't want." He waited for the sting to come, but it didn't. He knew she didn't want all of this. He knew that she threw up before they tried to make their engagement public twice now. She had no choices of her own. She couldn't go to college because after high school she'd marry Michael and be thrusted into court to play queen. To play trophy wife. To be nothing more than a pretty face who could play a few musical instruments, bear little heirs and hold useless parties. She wasn't meant for it. Too much strain. "I love you Michael, I really do," she continued, "But I love you as a brother. I don't— I can't marry you and I'm sorry."

"Annabelle, I will call off the engagement. I will take the brunt of the impacts for you. I will take responsibility for that. I just want you to be happy." He said. And he would.

She looked up at him, "I don't deserve you. I hope you find someone who's strong. Someone who isn't broken. Someone who can stand beside you and be your queen. I— I want you to be happy too."

He smiled. Sadly. Maybe disheartedly. He loved her. He did. He would have loved to spend his life with her, and maybe if he wasn't destined to be king she would have wanted that too. But she couldn't have him without having his kingship come with him. And because of that… "I'll tell my mother that we won't be getting married. But later. Right now… right now I'll stay with you however long you need."