The thud jolted me. I turned, staring at the floor. A book had fallen, the pages splayed open to a poem:
On a starry night, we sat watching the stars.
You said Harry and I felt completely at ease.
Now I watch the skies silently without you,
Hands raised midair, wanting you to hold, only to feel the cold.
His book of poems lay before me, reminding me there was once a special someone he still thought about.
King Harry glanced at the page briefly. Instead of picking up the book, he turned to me and planted a kiss on my forehead. "Are you okay?"
The concern in his voice made me blink in shock.
I quickly nodded so he wouldn't worry. But I was worried. We had kissed. He had touched me. Now I knew what fire I carried in me because of his touch, and I knew I would never forget it. I wanted more of it, and this... this would never be enough.
