"I'm alright! I don't want to sleep," Olivia muttered, angrily. She did not understand why I continued refusing to take her on a drive.

I kept hissing with pain every time she pulled herself out of my grip. She even tried pushing me and running down the huge corridors, like a lunatic had been unleashed onto the castle.

Through it all, I chased her, caught hold of her, and pulled her along. She kept staggering and giggling all the way over, and to be honest, it had started to get on my nerves.

But I did not want to be alone and I sure as hell was not going to let her go in her condition. Especially not if Olivia was going to keep tripping and kissing the walls. I bit back the nausea as she jerked my hand. Planting my feet roughly on the floor, I pulled her back.

It might have been the alcohol-induced strength or my dumb assumption that I had stopped her, but her hand ricocheted out of mine. She nearly stumbled back on the floor from the impact, when I grabbed her, quicker than a bolt of lightning.

"No, nuh, mhm, I'm okay," she mumbled, her eyelids closing upon themselves. If I had expected her to resist, I was sorely mistaken.

I held her up, trying to figure out a way to get her steady on her feet. She giggled all over again and it annoyed the living shit out of me.

"What? What's so funny?" I snapped, letting my arms fall.

Olivia immediately drooped against a wall and I placed my arm underneath hers to stop her from slipping. "You."

I was so done.

Pushing her against the corridor wall, I closed the space between us dangerously. I could feel her lavender scent engulfing me and I had to keep reminding myself that we were only strangers. I gripped her hands above her head, trapping her effectively.

Olivia sighed under my touch, stepping close but never crossing a line. It was what I admired most about her. She was always the picture of calm, not a single hair out of place.

"Olivet, listen to me." I shook her a little, as she started to doze off. "Do you know what getting drunk means?"

A small giggle left her throat. "Drunk does not exist," she said, a series of hiccups following wildly. Olivia trembled slightly, before slouching against my chest. "There are only illusions and attachments."

I sighed, beyond exasperated. I tilted her head slightly, taking in her face. Olivia was suddenly a thousand feet smaller than me, and I had trouble focusing on her face. She was gorgeous. Even with drool on her face, she stole my breath.

Olivia yawned against me. I held her straight, wiping the drool of her face with the sleeve of my coat. "Let's get you to bed, come on."

"But I don't wanna go!" She whined, exactly like a five year old would.

I ran a hand through my hair, rolling my eyes at her tone. I desperately wanted to kiss her mouth shut in that moment but she was drunk. And I was not going to do anything that we both might regret later.

Hell, I might be drunk myself. I hadn't exactly been a saint back in the ballroom with the drinking.

"Okay, okay," I said, raising my hands in placating gesture. She relaxed and wobbled on her feet, making me catch her all over again. "How about we play a game? If I win, you go to bed."

Her eyes closed upon themselves but that oversmart brain of hers wouldn't stop decoding things. "Aaaand, what if I win?" 

Olivia giggled like she had caught on to something very useful. "Tell me," she prodded, her worlds slurring.

"I'll do whatever you ask me to do, okay?"

"Ooookay," she stretched the word out, making it ring in the empty corridor. 

"Alright, if you can tell me how many fingers I am holding up, you win. Is that understood?" I ask her, tilting her chin upwards to face me. 

She snorted, her eyes crinkling adorably at the corners. "Why counting f-fingers? Are you an opthomopthologist?"

This time I couldn't stop the smile that captured my face. I threw my head back, laughing, while still holding on to her. "I am pretty sure I am not an opthomopthologist."

Nodding gravely at that, Olivia remarked, "Yes, you are not. You are a Barbie racer."

Uncontrollable laughter shook my body, as I leaned over her, unable to stand straight any longer. I felt free for the first time since the accident and boy, did it feel liberating. 

I coughed, turning my head sideways, before taking hold of Olivia's hand. "Okay, that's enough, mojito girl. Let's get you tucked in for some sleep."

"You said we would play a game!" She yelled, planting her feet stubbornly on the floor. 

I pulled her ahead, gentler than before, a permanent smile now marking my face. "We did," I lied. It was not that I didn't want to listen to her drunk ramble on, but it was getting late. Olivia would have a splitting headache if she didn't rest soon.

"We did?" She asked innocently. I turned to look at her, watching as her eyes became wide with confusion. "I didn't hear--"

"You forgot, silly. Remember how I asked you what number I had held up and you said Barbie?" I hoped and prayed to the gods above that Olivia would let it go.

The cloud of confusion seemed to clear from her face. Nodding, she finally relaxed and let me walk her towards her room. "I did say Barbie."

And then, Olivia fell silent. I mentally thanked all the gods known to mankind for their blessings. Grateful for the few seconds of respite, I trudged her along, stopping every now and then. 

Olivia would jump at the slightest sounds, point at shadows, or simply start dancing whenever she heard music drifting from the ballroom. I watched her fascination and exasperation, a pure soul like no other. 

She really did make me heart come alive with the smallest of smiles or the dumbest of discussions. Maybe we could learn to get along. But that would have to wait until tomorrow because we had reached her room.

I reached out my hand for her room card but instead, she dumped her purse on me. Her push felt like a punch to the gut and my arm throbbed from where she had hit me. Immediately, her sleepy, dark eyes, turned to pools of concern.

"What's wrong?"

It was a simple question; nothing fancy, nothing over the top. And yet, I couldn't stop smiling at the obvious worry she was showing for me. 

I plucked out the key card from her bag, zipped it up, and drew it over my shoulder. While I swiped the card on the sensor, I threw her a mischievous look.

"Is someone concerned about me?"

I obviously expected her to blow away my comment, or just simply scrunch up her face. Either way, I never thought in my wildest dreams that Olivia would walk closer to me, place her arms around my neck, and pull me down just to kiss me on my cheek.

I blinked once, and twice, and again, before she hugged me tighter. "I hope you're okay, Daniel. You're a nice guy."

My shoulders slumped, my body relaxed, and I hugged her back. It had been a while since someone had said I was a good person after everything that had happened to me. And even though Olivia would barely remember this conversation the next morning, I was going to treasure that moment.

"Thank you," I said, breathing in the lavender and coconut scent of her shampoo. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

She rubbed my back before pulling herself away. My arms suddenly felt a lot less empty but I thought no more of it. "It's okay, Barbie boy. I'm here for you."

I laughed quietly and pushed the heavy oak door open for her. She curtsied and skipped her way inside, giggling all the while. I smiled at Olivia and waved before beginning to close the door.

"Wait!" She called and I raised my eyebrows. 

"Mhm?" I mumbled, as she rushed over to stop me. 

"I'm not ready to sleep," Olivia said, pouting and batting her eyelashes.

"Olivet, we went over this. You need sleep, or you'll regret it tomorrow morning."

She looked down at her heels, wringing her fingers together. Refusing to look at me, she swayed on her feet and mumbled, "I've always watched the moon alone. I don't want to be alone, again."

My heart broke for her. At the way she admitted to being lonely underneath that armour she so carefully puts on every day. I remembered feeling that, too. As thankful I had been for my grandfather, I sorely missed my parents and my older brother.

I knew what alone felt like. It was not pretty. 

So, I made up my mind.

"Alright, Olivet. Go, change into comfortable clothes and we'll watch the moon tonight," I said. "Together."

The smile that lit up her face warmed my heart and I tried to bite back the huge grin on my face. I realised it was useless so, I stopped trying. I took off my coat and stepped into her room.

Olivia ran to the washroom to change and I found my way over to the balcony. Standing on the balcony and reading poetry under the night sky had become a routine for me.

I was glad I wasn't going to be alone tonight.

Hearing Olivia come up behind me, I soundlessly stepped back to stand next to her. A fresh gust of salty wind flipped my hair around and my churning mind relaxed. The sea stretched out in front of us, the moon lighting up every ripple in the water.

"It's g-gorgeous," she said between mild hiccups, her eyes turning glassy. I was sure she was thinking about the ocean being connected to her past but I didn't ask. I knew she wouldn't appreciate my asking her about something personal, especially when she was drunk.

Turning back around, I was now facing her. She looked radiant in the moonshine, her soft pink, silk gown ruffling around her ankles. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, her face devoid of any makeup.

She was breathtaking. Even better than the sea on a moonlit night. Even better than poetry under the stars. She was beautiful and she was here. I couldn't think of anything to say to her so, I just mumbled my assent. "It really is."

Olivia smiled at me, causing my heart to beat a thousand times faster. I gulped, not trusting myself so close around her. What was happening to me? I inhaled sharply and tore my eyes away from her.

Behind her the balcony was huge, with potted plants and ornamental leaves decorating every available space. I walked over to one of the plants, the one with the beautiful, papery, white flowers I had seen in my room. The petals were wide and soft, but bunched together. In the night, it looked like someone had woven the moon into flowers.

"Rhododendron mucronatum," Olivia said suddenly, without skipping a beat.

"What?" I looked up at her, momentarily forgetting to admire the flowers. My hands stilled on the petals as she walked over to run her fingers gently over them. Her hand brushed over mine, sending electricity jolting through my veins.

"White azalea," she said, her eyes capturing mine in a trance. "They're very delicate. Just like you."