chapel hill. evening

3

Friday 11.25.16

I took the Greyhound to Chapel Hill, UNC Wednesday evening and arrived yesterday morning. Then, D and I had two really nice Thanksgiving “dinners”: one at the UNC’s alumni center and the other one at his friend’s house with some of his cohorts.

After the fun of yesterday, we had to buckle down and study today since I have an exam on Monday and he has a paper due early next week. Since this is his turf, D took me to a cute, hipster place by his apartment in Carrboro. This whole area is like the Berkeley of the East Coast.

Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving :)

Kitten update!

We found a place to board the kitten until Sunday! Hurray!

We’re heading back to Chapel Hill on Sunday. Please message us if you are genuinely interested in him and could meet us along the route from Morehead City to Chapel Hill, or in Chapel Hill proper, on Sunday evening.

Again, please only message me or Ash if you have a GENUINE INTEREST in adopting this kitten and meeting us on Sunday.

28. Royal Court Part 3

Please send in any requests you have!

Part 1 

Part 2

Liam:
Prince/Maid
You’re sitting on a bench, basking in the summer sun that fills the courtyard; next to you is one of the stable boys, William. He’s making you laugh and smile and for the first time since Liam broke it off, he makes you feel valuable.  “…And before he knew, the pony had tipped him off” he finishes his story, making you laugh, “What’s so funny?”  A voice behind you startles the two of you. Turning you see Liam accompanied by the Italian Countess, Giselle. “Your Majesty” the boy stands quickly bowing to the two of them,  “I was just telling Y/N a story about the French diplomat” the boy looks down at you with a fond smile, something you endeavour to return. Liam continues to look between the two of you, expression unreadable as the woman takes a step closer to him, capturing his attention.
“The stable boy seems nice” Liam comments as you enter his chambers, tray balancing on your hands.  “So does Giselle” you can’t help the bitter comment and you know it’s out of line, but with everything that had happened between you and Liam, you don’t think you care anymore. “She is… Does that bother you?” he asks and you consider turning and leaving but for once you want to fight a battle, so you ignore his question, “Does it bother you that William is nice?” you ask and he’s thoughtful for a moment before breathing out a simple “Yes”. “Why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest. “Because I want you” he says truthfully and you realise just how much you weren’t ready for this confrontation. “You had me” your confident facade gone. “And I lost you” he steps towards you, sadness evident in his voice. “Because I can’t give you everything” you tell him, “because I can’t give you everything” he counters, “I would do anything to trade positions with him. To be able to marry you because all that matters is our love, to have children, live our lives out together” and you can imagine that life, it seems so close.  “Why can’t you do that?” you ask, this time stepping towards him, reaching out to break the distance between the two of you. To feel the touch you’ve been craving.  “Because I have to do what’s right for my country” but he moves a little closer again, as if his words mean nothing. “And how do you know I’m not right” you ask. “I don’t” the words ghost over your lips.

Harry:
Kitchen Worker/Princess
You endeavour to push all thoughts of Harry from your mind, ignoring the perfect crunch of the bread served at breakfast that you’re sure he helped with, or the fruits lining the long table. After a few days it appears to be working well, the boy vanishing into nothing but a “one time I made friends with the kitchen hand”. Until you find the wicker basket sitting in front of your door; The contents being three shining apples and a short written note.  These three are without imperfections… made me think of you. Enjoy your majesty, Harry. The handwriting is smooth, more elegant that you would have expected for someone of his status. You pick up the first apple and examine it and he’s right, it’s perfect. You take a bite; feel a pang of guilt over Harry before trying to push the boy from you mind.
The extravagant hall makes you feel a little dizzy, the lights a little too bright, the laughter a little too loud, yet you let the man spin you around in his arms. “Of course our gardens aren’t as extravagant over in Denmark” the man continues with the conversation you’re only pretending to listen to, mind on the note Harry had left you. “Excuse me” you tell the man, pushing away form him and hurrying towards the closest door. You hold your dress up as you run down the stairs of the courtyard, pushing the door to the kitchen open. But it’s empty, the workers having retired for the night. Still, you’re in no mood to return to the party so you take a set at the wooden bench. “Y/N” the voice asks, and you trun to see harry, his face worried, “I heard the door shut, thought maybe the goats got in again. What are you doing here?” he asks. Suddenly all words are gone, You’re not sure why you’re here, you’re not sure why you even wanted to see him, you just know that you did. “ I was wondering if you wanted to go for a walk?” you ask. You’re standing in the middle of a kitchen, in a dress worth your weight in gold, asking the boy who works in the kitchen for a walk and his smile makes you forget it all.  

Louis:
Prince/Princess
“But I don’t love him!” You’re standing in front of your father in his quarters, his face is passive as tears stream down yours. “Y/N we don’t marry for love, we marry for our countries” he tells you and you’ve heard it all before, but somehow it just doesn’t seem believable put into practice. “Let me stay here, let me marry Louis! Make an ally of Wales and England!” you beg, tears spilling down your cheeks. Your father watches you with an eyebrow raised, you had just openly admitted your relationship with Louis. You’re so hopeful as indecision flashes across his face before his stony demeanour returns; “it’s too late Y/N.” And you want to scream at him, tell him you hate him, make him change his mind but you know that will get you nowhere so you run, you run down the winding corridors, through the heavy doors and you don’t stop until you’re shoving open the heavy door to Louis’ room. The slamming startles Louis but it seems to be forgotten the second he see’s your tears, dropping the book he was reading and taking you into his arms, allowing you to bury your face in his chest. His hand gently rubbing your back; “Hush love” he tries to calm you, “It’ll be alright”. “It won’t be alright though,” you cry, pulling back to look up at him, “how could it possible be alright” he wipes away a tear before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, “We’ll elope, we’ll go to the chapel over the hill this evening and elope” He says it like it’s the simplest idea in the world, like it doesn’t involve deception and lying, like it’s the only option you’ve got and it is. “You’d do that for me?” you ask, aware that elopement wasn’t necessarily held in the highest regard. Shaking his head he smiles down at you, “ I would do anything for you Y/N, anything” and it breaks your heart a little more, because how could you lose this. “Tonight?” you ask. “Tonight, We’ll ride out on horse back” he takes your hands in his, “all I need is you, forever”.

Niall:
Betrothed
Morning seems to take forever to arrive and when it does you feel no better rested than you had the night before. The little sleep you got intertwined with dreams of Niall with faceless women and a loveless marriage. Those images alone enough to encourage you to talk to your father and Niall’s this morning about the impending marriage. You take your time getting dressed, watching yourself in the mirror and imagining a simpler existence than future heir to the throne. Before you can enter the dining hall a hand catches on to yours, spinning you around. “ A dishevelled Niall stands there, face pained, “Please don’t Y/N” he begs as if he knows exactly what you were going to do, “please don’t until I have the chance to explain myself” and even though his soft eyes make your heart melt you know that you have to do it. “ I told you last night Niall, I couldn’t marry someone who won’t even attempt to love me”. “Just take a walk outside with me first, I beg of you” and against your better judgement you nod and follow the blond into the courtyard. The silence that hangs between you is as heavy as the grey clouds overhead and he must sense that because it takes only a moment for him to break the silence. “I wasn’t ready for this, and I don’t know if I am.” you assume he’s talking about marriage, about being joined to you. “I cant promise I will love you Y/N, I can’t promise that until I do, if I do. But you’re right. I need to give us a chance. And I can’t honestly do that unless I am faithful and one hundred percent yours” the words falling out of his mouth makes your heart skip a beat or two, but they also scare you. “So what are you saying?” you ask, stopping in your tracks and searching his eyes for some evidence of deception. “What I am saying is that I am yours, I cannot promise to love you, but I will try” he says, voice sincere and he extends a hand to you, offering you everything, a non-spoken promise. You stare at is as you join you slip your hand into his, noting how they fit together perfectly.

 Zayn:
Soldier/Lady in waiting
“Any word?” you ask your Queen, but she simply dismisses your question with a role of the eyes, sick of you asking everyday. It had been weeks since you’d had word of the battle, and in those weeks you weren’t sure if Zayn was still alive, each day the uncertainty and possibility eating away at you.
You walk through the grounds, something you had done a lot of since Zayn had left. Aimless wandering when you weren’t needed by the queens side, you found it soothed the worrying and now, as word of soldiers returning had arrived this morning you needed to distract yourself. Upon entering the stables to feed he horses apples, you spot the familiar black pony standing in its usually vacant stable. The thoughts don’t quite click, if Zayn’s horse was here where was he?You don’t notice the apples you’re holding hit the ground, you don’t notice the buckling of your knees until you’ve hit the ground, but you don’t feel it, all you feel is the stop of your heart. You knew that the first thing Zayn would do when he arrived was see you, but he hadn’t and his horse was here now and that only meant one thing. The unthinkable entered your mind so you get up and begin your sprint back up the castle steps to find the queen and demand why his horse was back and not Zayn.  “His… his pony is here” you say breathlessly, tears blurring your vision,  “why is his horse here and he’s not!” you demand, feeling your legs shake. You wait for your queen to speak but she doesn’t, instead you are startled by the voice in the corner of the room. “I was coming to find you but I guess you beat me too it” and the voice alone is enough for the relief to come crashing in. you turn and see him, unscathed and smiling, arms held out for you. You waste no time falling into them, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding on tighter than you thought possible. “Can’t believe you thought I could just leave you like that” he chuckles and you give him a particularly hard shove to the chest. “Please don’t leave me again” you cry and he smiles before placing a kiss on your lips. “Don’t think I could even if I tried” he tells you. 

An old man who was standing next to me on the train leaned in and told me he heard about the chapel hill shooting and “even if it doesn’t mean much from a random guy on the train” said he wishes the best for my family and the Muslim community.

He even told me he likes to go to the ISBCC (our mosque in Boston) just to sit down at the cafe there because the people were so nice and welcoming.

That was nice. That was really nice.