The Thrill Is Gone

It was nearly two in the morning when Harry came to. He’d passed out hours earlier, halfway through the second film of the night. The film had been some concert from an Icelandic band he’d never heard of and although he’d fallen asleep during it, he couldn’t say that the music had been awful. In fact, the opposite rang true. It was soothing, like something out of a dream, and it was because of that that he’d ended up falling asleep on the couch. He’d fallen asleep with his head resting against the back of the couch, but somehow throughout the course of the night, he’d ended up repositioning himself so that his head rested on her lap and his arm dangled off the side of the couch. When he woke, that was the position he found himself in. At first, he didn’t know where he was. His eyes were closed, his senses barely returning to him. The only thing he knew was that he was comfortable, so he instinctively nestled into her, relishing in the warmth radiating from her being.

If his phone hadn’t started vibrating, he would’ve probably fallen back asleep and stayed there until morning. But his phone did vibrate, it vibrated and vibrated until he was so annoyed with the thing that he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. The glowing screen blinded his sleep filled eyes, forcing them to blink in retaliation and after a few passing seconds, they managed to adjust to the light and read the name on the screen. Alistair. A slew of profanity left his thin lips. Alistair was going to tell him off for not having told him where he was going. He could already hear the scolding that would be delivered by his trusted security officer. Not wanting to wake his host from her slumber, he ignored the call and began the search for his shoes, which had been taking off at some point during the night.

He found his shoes a few feet away from him, in front of the teli. They were quickly slipped on. As was his coat and scarf. He needed to bundle up if he didn’t want anyone recognizing him as he left the flat. The last thing he needed was some idiot snapping pictures of him with their mobile and sending it to a tabloid magazine. They’d get him with a surprised expression and the damn magazine would run wild with it. They’d print a bunch of lies. Say he was shagging someone in the complex. And if they spotted him leaving her flat, they’d pester her about it. He didn’t want that to happen to her. He hated dealing with the press. And to have someone deal with it because of him wasn’t something he wanted. So he pulled on his beanie, making sure to tuck all his fiery red hair underneath and then began to scope out the apartment, to check if anything had been left behind.

The moonlight aided him in his quest, there wasn’t much of it, but there was enough to make it so that if he strained his eyes a bit, he’d be able to make things out. There wasn’t anything in her room, nothing in the kitchen. Only place left to check was the living room. He checked the floor, in case he’d dropped something. He hadn’t. Then he checked the coffee table. Nothing there either. His eyes then went over to the couch and slowly . . . slowly they began to make their way towards his host, going up her sleeping figure before settling on her face.

And for a moment, he just stood there, contemplating her features. There was a beauty to her. It wasn’t an ostentatious beauty like he was used to. It was more of an understated beauty, the sort that could very easily be overlooked, but when one stopped – when one actually focused in on her face, her beauty became more prominent. Her beauty shone.

He was taken from his silent contemplation when his pesky mobile vibrated. He needed to answer or else Alistair would track him down, throw him in the back of the Land Rover and tell him off. He was almost at the door when he realized that leaving, without saying anything would be rude. He’d done it before, so many times before, but he didn’t want to leave her there, not after she’d been so great to him. So he wandered over to her little desk area and scribbled a quick note before leaving the flat.

The note was short, only a few scribbled words and it lay unread until a half past seven, when Paulina finally woke up. She’d found it on accident, having stumbled across it when she walked to the fridge to grab some cold water. It was after she closed the refrigerator door that she found it. It was just there, tucked behind the TARDIS shaped magnet. Her right hand instinctively reached out for it, taking it in its possession and holding the note up to eyelevel. She hadn’t expected a note. To be honest, she’d thought he’d just run off at some point without saying anything. That’s what he’d done to Charlotte and Charlotte had put out. So Paulina wasn’t expecting any special sort of attention to be paid to her, but there was the note. There was his messy writing



“Snow white?” she laughed to herself. “Can’t believe he put that,” she whispered as she placed the note back onto the fridge like some sort of certificate or term paper that she’d gotten a perfect score on.

She stared at the note a little while longer, wondering why he’d taken the trouble to write her note. Surely, he must have known that she hadn’t expected one from him. She’d seen him sneak out after a one night stand. She knew how he worked and she expected to wake up without a trace of him, but he’d surprised her. He’d left a note, and brief as it was, it mad her a bit . . . giddy. It was idiotic. Really it was. But she’d been called ace! He thought she was awesome and exciting. With that one word he’d fed her vanity. She’d always thought she was awesome and now that a Prince had said it as well, that meant that it was an irrefutable fact . . . or something along those lines.

Eventually she tore her thoughts from the note and turned on her laptop. It was 7:39 on Monday morning which meant that it was 11:39, Sunday night in California. Her brother, Luis, would still be awake. He always stayed up late on Sundays, watching the shows he’d missed while he was at the hospital. It was the perfect time to talk to him, so she invited him to video chat on Skype. Luis was seven years older than her, but although he was nearly a decade older, they were very close. Paulina considered him to be her best friend, and although he’d never admit it in public, she was his.

“Chunky butt!” he greeted her, his hazel eyes lighting up in excitement.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He’d been calling her chunky butt since she was two years old but she still hadn’t gotten used to the term of endearment that her brothers were so keen on calling her.

“Do you have to call me that?” she mumbled, much like a child.

“It is your name, isn’t it?” he said. “So where’ve you been? Mom’s been all worried because you haven’t called.” By called, he meant Skyped.

“I told her I wasn’t gonna be able to talk this weekend because I had all that stuff to do with the foundation. You were there when I told her.”

“Was I? Hmm, don’t remember.”

“You were eating that bacon wrapped chilidog.”

“Ahhh,” he nodded in understanding.

“Do you remember?”

“The deliciousness?” he asked. “Yes. You talking? Not so much.”

“Ugh. Why are you so useless?”

“Hey, don’t talk to me like that. Don’t you know you’ve got to respect your elders?” he joked.

“Hmm . . . don’t feel like it.” Paulina tucked her hair behind her ear. “So how’s everyone doing?”

“Everyone’s good.”

“That all you’re saying?” she huffed.

Luis nodded. “You asked how everyone’s doing and I said everyone’s good. That’s a response, if I ever heard one.”

“A two word response isn’t a response.”

“Au contraire,” he shot her one of his annoying little smirks he was so famous for. “So what are you doing up this early? It’s like eight over there. Isn’t it? Shouldn’t you be passed out?”

“Went to sleep early last night,” she explained. “So I'm pretty well rested and I'm gonna start making some cupcakes soon.”

“Cupcakes?” he was a fan of the cupcakes his sister made, especially the double chocolate ones.

“Yeah, I'm making a bunch so that I can take them over to the hospital today.”

He shot her a questioning look.

“It’s this little girl’s birthday. I’ve told you about her, her names Rhiannon, and since it’s her birthday, I figured I’d make some cupcakes so the kids can have some sweets instead of that nasty hospital food.”

“Isn’t that against hospital policy?”

“It’s not and they like me so they don’t care.”

“Hah. They only like you because they don’t know you.”

“If I could pinch you, I would.”

“But you can’t. Can you?” he then did some strange victory dance.

A sigh left her lips as she watched her brother dance like an idiot. She missed him. She missed bickering with him, fighting with him, laughing with him. She missed going out to concerts and out to their favorite Italian buffet.

“I miss you,” she blurted.

His dancing calmed down and for a split second, his smile vanished and a slight frown took its place. “Yeah, me to,” he said. “But we’re gonna be there in a few months.”

“You better remember to bring me that food I ask for and Tapatio! Fuck! It’s been ages since I’ve had Tapatio. The other day I was eating some crisps and I just started crying because I was like, if I were at home, I’d have some Tapatio with this.”

“If you were at home, mom would be nagging at you for eating that. The other day, I got off work and picked up some Doritos so I could munch on them while I watched the UFC fight and then, right as I'm opening the bag, mom snatched them from me and said she’d make me something to eat. Can you believe that? She’s not letting anyone eat junk food. She even stopped taking sodas home!”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nah, she said that if we want a soda we have to walk the two blocks to the store to buy one. Don’t usually feel like doing that so we end up drinking cranberry juice. But there’s also this nasty fucking herbal tea she’s trying to make us drink all the time. I don’t care if it’s good for me. It tastes like crap.”

“You’re a doctor!”

“And I'm pretty fucking healthy, so I don’t have to be taking nasty herbal tea. Ah . . . hold on, got a text.” Luis grabbed his phone off the desk. “Back for more,” he muttered, a self satisfied smirk forming on his face. “Hey chunky butt, it seems like I'm going to have to step out. You gonna be on later on?”

“Around what time?” she asked.

“How about four am, your time?” he said. “I should be back from work by then and that way mom and dad can talk to you.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be on. And be safe.”

“You to, remember not to go off with anyone.”

“I know.”

“And just because someone says that you’re beautiful that doesn’t mean that you should –”

“Luis!” she nearly shrieked.

“Ay no te enojes. Y pórtate bien. ¡Por que si nos sales panzona te va andar! (Ah don’t get mad. And behave yourself. Because if you end up getting pregnant, shit’s gonna go down.)”

Paulina rolled her eyes at him. That was a warning he always gave her. “Go bang your lady friend and leave me be.”

“I know that’s not how you’re going to say goodbye to me.”

“That’s exactly how I'm gonna say bye.”

“Paulin . . .”

“Go bang your lady friend and leave me be. Love you, feo (ugly).”

“Love you to chunky butt and remember to be careful! Oh and before I go, Adrian told me to tell you that he wants to talk to you. That reminds me. Have you talked to Rafa lately?” Adrian and Rafa were their older brothers.

“Mhm, talked to him last week.”

“Good, because he always gets mad that you talk to me more than him.”

“That’s because he’s got a wife and kids. He can’t just Skype with me whenever.”

“That’s what I tell him, but you know Rafa. Es necio, pero necio a lo mero, mero. (He’s stubborn, and I'm talking real fucking stubborn.) Alright I’ll let you go now. Have fun with the kids.”

And just like that, her brother signed off, leaving her sitting alone in the small flat, thousands of miles from home. She felt like crying . . . like curling up on her bed and having a good sob. A childish thing to do, but she missed him. Talking about her family with her brother made her feel lonely. She missed them. She missed the Sundays spent in the backyard with the family. The Saturday morning trips to the local swap meet. She missed all of it and so she curled up on her bed, clutching a picture of her family and cried for a bit. She cried until the tears refused to fall. When that happened, she just stared up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on the familiar botched paint job so that she could steady her breathing.

“Relax,” she whispered to herself. “Just relax.”

She soon composed herself enough to go make the cupcakes and by the time the clock struck one, they were all neatly decorated and she had finished getting ready. Alfred arrived just as she was slipping on her shoes. He was going to go to the hospital with her. He’d been meaning to start volunteering and a mini birthday party was a perfect time to start. They soon piled the cupcakes into his car and drove off to the hospital where the children would be waiting for them in the playroom.

“You alright?” asked Alfred, taking his friend’s silence as a sign that something was troubling her.

“Huh?” she turned to look at him, her eyes holding an absentminded expression.

Alfred pulled into a parking spot, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?” he repeated slowly. “You’ve been awfully quiet. Not like you to be so quiet.”

“I'm fine,” she reassured him. “I just lost myself for a moment. Was thinking of home,” she explained.

Alfred, having never been particularly close with his family, was always puzzled by her longing for home. He personally relished in being far from his pompous father, vain mother and sex driven sister. Whenever he was home, he felt that he was there just out of duty and not out of want. And it was true. In his family, there was not a member with whom he felt at ease. The only person whom he had cared for in that house, had been the elderly housekeeper, but since she passed away last summer, he’d lost the only person with whom he could chat and have a laugh with.

“Ah . . . well, it’s normal to long for home. Quite normal,” he stated awkwardly. “But your mum’s visiting soon? Isn’t she? With your brother . . . the doctor, was it?”

“Yeah, they’re visiting in late June.”

“That’s not to far from now. Only a few months,” he commented. “Before you know it, they’ll be here.”

“And you guys will meet them!” she opened her door and stepped out of the car, her left hand clutching the boxes filled with cupcakes and her right hand closing the car door behind her. “You’ll love them. My mom has a pretty thick accent so you’ll have to pay close attention when she talks, but she’s a real sweetheart and she’ll probably start fussing over you the moment I introduce you.”

“Seriously?” he asked and took two of the boxes from her.

She nodded. “My mom’s always really attentive to my friends. Treats them like her own kids. I remember when I was in high school, she’d go with my friends and me to the movies and she’d take a purse filled with sweets and drinks. And then she’d pass them out to us right before the movie started, that way no one had to spend money.”

“Wait, wait, wait . . . you mean to say your mum went to the movies with you?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Until what age?” it seemed odd to him.

“Eighteen,” she muttered.

“You just say eighteen?”

“Yes.” Paulina knew he was going to tease her about it.

“That’s too old for your mum to be following you to the movies. Thirteen and fourteen, I understand. But eighteen?”

“She stopped when I was eighteen.”

“So through all of high school, she went to the movies with you?”

“I don’t get why this is so fascinating to you.”

“Because it’s weird,” he nearly laughed.

“It’s not weird. She was just . . . just a little protective.”

“So did she sit next to you?”

“Behind us . . .”

That was it. Alfred started to laugh.

“Quit laughing, jerk!”

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that’s so weird. I never thought your parents would be so overprotective of you. Not with the way you drink and all.”

“Well they don’t know I drink or smoke. They just think I study a lot. One time I got home pretty drunk. Fuck. Never again, I learned not to drink while at home.”

“How old were you? And what’d they do?”

“I’d just turned twenty one and they smacked me with a shoe.”

Alfred doubled over from laughter. “T-they hit you with a bloody shoe? Hah! That . . . oh hell . . . that’s hilarious! And at twenty-one! This is too funny! I can’t! I can’t!”

“It’s not that funny.” Paulina grumbled.

“You’re right, it’s not funny . . . it’s bloody hilarious!” he tried to contain his laughter to better speak. “I can imagine it, you know. Your mum sitting behind you, she’s holding a purse, and then there’s some bloke, and just as he’s leaning in to get some of the candy you’re holding, your mum grabs her purse and smacks him with it! Hah! Did that ever happen?”

Something similar to that had happened. Except the guy wasn’t leaning in to grab a candy, he was trying to peck her cheek, but her mother – upon seeing the proximity in which he was to her daughter – smacked him before he ever had the chance to kiss her. Paulina had never been more mortified in her life. She really liked the guy. He was an awkwardly endearing mess that she’d spent most of her high school years crushing on. And with one smack to the shoulder, her mom had ruined any chance of her daughter dating him. What happened that night was never spoken of. Not by her, not by him. And she wasn’t about to tell Alfred that it had happened. He’d spend the rest of the afternoon, perhaps week, teasing her about it.

“She wasn’t that bad,” she lied.

“Right . . .” a sly smile adorned his freshly shaven face. “What time are they expecting us again?”

“I told them around two.”

“And are you sure they’re not gonna mind my being there?”

“Why would they mind?”

“Never been there before, maybe they won’t want me around the kids.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll be fine with you there.”

“How can you be so sure of that? What if they think I'm some sort of pedo?”

“They’re not going to think you’re a pedo! They won’t care, because you’re with me. And they trust me, so they’ll be alright with you being there. But please, please remember not to be negative or to make any snarky comments. The kids need to smile and giggly at silly things and if you’re going to provide negative commentary, I’ll grab you by the ear and drag you outside. Understood?”

“Geez . . . what’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Alfie –”

“Something’s on your mind.” Alfred declared. “Not your family though. It’s . . . it’s something else. Isn’t it?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I'm just really protective of those kids. They’re going through a lot.”

“You sure that’s it?”

Paulina nodded.

“Right then,” he muttered to himself. “Well I suppose we should pick up our pace. Don’t want to keep the little ones waiting.”

By the time they got to the playroom, the little ones were already there, eagerly awaiting their arrival. Their eyes lit up at the sight of her. The ones that could walk rushed over to her, taking her skirt in their small hands. They tugged at it excitedly and began talking about how much fun they were all going to have. She offered them a motherly smile and promised that they’d dance and laugh.

“Where’s the birthday girl?” she asked the children. “We’ve got all these cupcakes to help celebrate but we can’t have any until we sing her happy birthday!”

“Over here, Paula!” exclaimed Rhiannon from her seat on the couch, she was recovering from being hit by a car so both her legs were in casts.

“There you are,” she walked over to her. “How old are you today, sweetie?”

“Six.” Rhiannon proudly declared.

“Six?” gasped Paulina. “Well you’re a big girl now. Aren’t you? I don’t think you’re gonna like what I brought you.”

“What is it?”

“A friend,” Paulina pulled out a stuffed teddy bear. “Her name’s Lucy and she said she wanted to come, play.”

“Lucy’s beautiful!”

“Hear that Lucy? Rhi likes you!” she handed the stuffed bear to the golden haired child. “Take good care of her. Alright?”

Rhiannon hugged the bear tightly, her face nestling against its own. “I will!” she promised. “And thank you, Paula.”

“You’re welcome Rhi.” Paulina turned to face the other children. “I want you all to meet my friend, his name is Alfie and he’s going to be our special guest today. So be nice to him!” she clapped her hands together. “Now, who wants to sing happy birthday?”

Their singing echoed throughout the corridors, causing nurses and doctors alike to smile brightly. The guests that walked through the corridors were confused as to why children were singing and among those guests were the two royal princes whom Lord Fellowes had dragged to the hospital. They’d thought that they were going to get away with simply going to the unveiling on Tuesday, but apparently Lord Fellowes had told the hospital’s director that the princes were going to stop by on Monday for a tour and there they were, wandering the corridors with a middle aged nurse by the name of Gretchen, as their guide.

“Might I inquire what the singing is for?” inquired William.

“I'm not exactly certain, Sir.” Gretchen spoke. “It seems to be coming from the children’s playroom. They might be having a birthday party.”

“A birthday party?” repeated Harry.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied. “If the schedule permits, the children are allowed to have a birthday party in the playroom. Nothing grand, just sweets brought by the child’s family but it does the dears good to act their age. Makes them forget that they’re in a stuffy hospital. They’re in there. You can have a look through the windows if you like.”

Curious to see the singing children, Harry peered into the playroom. He expected to see two exhausted looking parents in there, but his eyes did not behold such a sight. Instead they landed on a familiar dark haired brunette whom was balancing a small child on her left hip. Her face was adorned with a bright smile – an infectious smile that ended up making its way onto his face. The sight before him was a sight that made him think of his mother, his dear mother whom had been so fond and adamant about children’s welfare.

“Sir,” Gretchen called to him. “Would you care to visit with them?”

“Tomorrow,” replied Harry, his eyes never leaving the dancing brunette. “We wouldn’t want to intrude on their festivities.”