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Before I can even switch on the light, Sophia is pushing past me. There’s zero hesitancy in her. It’s like she can smell the pages too.
I have to admit, it is a comforting scent.
“How many can I take?” Sophia asks, finding the ancient bookshelf before I can even point it out to her. She’s like a fucking truffle pig.
“As many as you can carry,” I shrug. I haven’t exactly thought this through.
“Will you help me bring some up?”
“Sure. But hurry, I have to leave soon.”
“Okay. Okay. I’ll take this one. And this one… oh, I haven’t read this one before…”
“Are you a princess or a bookworm?” I tease, as she rummages through the creaky shelves.
“Why can’t a lady be both?” Sophia mumbles, not bothering to look back at me. Her attention is fixed squarely on the books. “… And I thought I told you to stop calling me princess.”
Stepping forward, I get a better look at the covers she’s pulling out. “You’re choosing a lot of fairy tales for someone who doesn’t like to be called princess,” I note.
“If my life we’re anything like these stories, I would have no problem with being called a princess,” Sophia responds, her frenzied voice slowing momentarily. “But I’m no princess. And you’re no prince charming.”
“I can’t argue with you there,” I mumble, shrugging again. “Come on, hurry up.”
Before I can check my phone to see how much time I’ve already wasted down here, Sophia throws a book at me and I have to use both hands to keep it from smacking against the nearby wall.
“Hey, careful, some of these are heirlooms…”
“Sorry…” she mutters, before throwing another one at me. And then another. “Here. Take these.”
When the fourth book comes flying at my face, I’ve had enough. “That’s it. Take your books and start walking up those stairs now, or I swear to god…”
“Alright. Alright. I think I have enough.”
“I’d say so,” I mumble. Looking over the stack of books piled in my hand, I search for my captive. I can’t even see her anymore.
Her skinny arms hold up an Eiffel Tower’s worth of reading material. She must not be sore enough. I’m almost insulted. I’ll have to make sure to change that when I get back.
I don’t want her walking right for a week—at least now, she’ll have something to keep her occupied when she’s bedbound.
“Lead the way,” Sophia says. But I can barely hear her tiny voice behind the mountain of books. Still, I head back for the stairs, expecting her to collapse in a sea of pages at any moment.
But she’s tougher than she looks, and even more determined.
Somehow, we make it all the way back to her room with only a few casualties.
“… I think I dropped some,” Sophia notes, the moment she empties her arms onto the bed.
She’s already turning around to retrieve her fallen comrades when I drop my pile and raise a palm to stop her. “You have enough for now. Read until I get back. I’ll bring the others when I return.
“Fine, but–“
“Enough!” I blare. It’s like the strong, fiery princess I’ve gone crazy for has turned back into a hyperactive little girl. “Don’t forget what this is. What you are. Who I am.”
A captive and her captor. It should be as simple as that.
Then why do I feel better now that she almost looks… well, fuck. She almost looks happy.
“Alright. Alright,” Sophia mumbles, turning back to her pile of books.
