The perfect princess.

Violet’s P.O.V

I always hated airplanes.

Ever since I was young, I wanted to fly. As a naive 5 year old girl, I thought I was a complete genius after discovering I could climb atop the barbecue and up the drainpipe to the garage roof. As I sat there looking down on the world. I realised for the first time how small and significant we, as people, were. It seems silly looking back at it now, but as I stood up, I was overcome with this amazing sensation to jump.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I didn’t get to soar through the air among the birds like I thought I would, instead I crashed to the ground, breaking my right arm in the process. My mum called it a bloody miracle that it was all I broke. But since then, I’d been forever chasing that feeling of bliss only falling could bring. It seems though as I grew older, human were destined to keep their feet on the ground.

We always want what we can’t have.

You’d think that I’d like airplanes- they were the closest we had to flying after all. But somehow, being trapped in a 500 tonne metal death trap descended 100000 feet in the air; just didn’t have the same ring to it.

“Violet, stay with your guards!” shouts my father over the chaos and noise the many reporters have created. As he leaves out the back I hear him call something to me over his shoulder. I wonder what he said. To him saying ‘I love you’ is just a waste of breath and it was most likely something constructive like ‘remember to keep your jacket on’. My dad’s like that though. He doesn’t believe in love.

The bright flashes and crowds of people constantly yelling questions at me were becoming a part of the decor now. I almost feel like a ghost wandering along the airport, surrounded by people and yet, completely invisible. You can stare at me all you want, but in the end, I’m just another ghost. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be, transparent...Everyone knows who I am, but nobody knows me.

My right guard, Anthony, makes a path through the crowds yelling things like ‘move it!’ and ‘no questions!’ I try and smile but it’s hard when you’re squinting from the cameras. I honestly have no idea why people are so interested in me. Sure I’m Royal, but I’m nothing like my father. Or my brother, or my mother for that matter, I wasn’t born with their natural leadership and confidence. I’m more of a –hide-behind-the-taller-people- kind of girl. Of course nobody knows this. Having my last name meant living up to many high expectations. I was a Dragomir.

I wasn’t allowed to be shy.

I have to good enough for a country.

Harry’s P.O.V
I shift uneasily in my seat and try to find a comfier position. This is a four hour flight after all. Louis is sitting next to me chatting profusely about the game he’s just brought on his iPhone. After 5 minutes of this I ask him kindly to shut-up. He replies by kicking me painfully in the back of my shin.

Why hadn’t the plane left yet? I’m just about to say that to Louis when three broad men in black suits and tie, walk inside and start talking to the plane attendant. Wow- was Brad Pitt coming on the plane or something? Who else would travel with so much security? I scoot my head up to take a look, when a girl walks inside.

My first thoughts are holy shit- this girl was fit. Not the normal kind of fit though. I was normally into the tanned, curvy, nice rack, Latina type girls. This girl was more delicate, petite, angelic, graceful, even... She had fair skin, the type that looked like it would burn if even spent 5 minutes under the sun. But it wasn’t the smooth skin, or the pretty face, or the pouty lips, or even the blonde hair that got me. It was the eyes, holy crap the eyes. They were the type of eyes that made you want to make sunglasses illegal. You couldn’t even call them blue eyes; they were such a light gentle blue that the closest you could get would be the colour of ice.

She was wearing a lacy white dress with tights, and although it covered more skin then I would have liked, it framed her petite body that was all curves, not angles. I manage to pull my eyes from her and glance around the rest of the plane, they were all as mesmerised by her as I was. She stood by her guard, waiting for him to finish conversation with the stewardess, completely oblivious to the fact she had the room silent upon her entry.

Princess Dragomir.

Everyone knew who she was. I’d seen her on the telly and in a few magazines before, but nothing could prepare me for what she looked like in real life. I don’t know what it is but she has this way about her that draws attention, it’s not just the fact she’s pretty, it’s like, she gives off this powerful poised energy that leaves your eyes stuck to her like some kind of superglue. There are no words to describe her. The closest I could think of was angel, or is that too much? This girl was the definition of beauty.

I quickly dive into action and glance around the plane, spotting an empty seat across the aisle “Louis, be a mate and swap seats will ya, please” I say quickly to him. This plane was for V.I.P’s so it had no arranged seating.

Louis gives me the look. The –you’re-such-a-man-whore- look.

“Oh come on pleeaassee Louis, I’ll let you watch whatever you want on TV for a week” I was practically begging now.

“Make that, two weeks” he mutters before grabbing his bag and walking down the aisle towards the empty seat. Now she has no choice but to sit next to me. I smirk at Louis and by the time I’ve finished my hand signal conversation with him, the princess has taken the seat beside me. I basically have her on her own now... well, minus the 3 guards leant against the wall watching my every move. I smile at the bigger one who was watching me. He doesn’t smile back.

I glance across at the princess- I don’t know her first name so I’m just going to have to keep calling her that. The plane had started moving and she clenched the seat tightly with her small fists, her eyes staring straight ahead as if wishing to be anywhere but here.

“Scared of flying?” I ask her in a hushed tone so that her security wouldn’t hear. Judging from the look on his face, he did.

She turns to look at me, her lips pursed, before turning away and facing the front of the plane again “I’m not scared of anything,” she says softly, her voice as light as air. Okay- stop with the metaphors already, Harry. It’s on the verge of getting gay.

“Everyone’s scared of something” I reply. This time she doesn’t even bother looking at me, but she frowns as if my statement bugged her.

“I love flying” she murmurs “but I hate planes”. Huh, so the girl was complicated, I kinda liked it.

“That’s kind of a tragic love story” I say, causing her face to break out in a smile. She doesn’t even look at me as she tries to hide her laugher but I still felt good about making her laugh. Like Louis always says, once you make a girl laugh, you’re half way in. One of the guards clears his throat and shakes his head at me, she doesn’t see though. Obviously this prick didn’t trust me; he walks towards her and tells her something quietly in her ear. She nods and then looks straight ahead, the smile vanished. “It’s hard to get to know you with these guard around, you know?” I say.

“I think that’s the point,” she says, her voice more spoken this time. The plane suddenly makes a noise and she breaths in deeply, closing her eyes in the process. I ignore the guards glare and grab her hand. Her eyes dart down to our clasped hands and she watches them as if they’re the most fascinating thing in the world, before bringing her eyes up to mine.

“Thanks,” she murmurs quietly, gripping my hand tightly as she breaths in deeply.

“Don’t mention it, Princess,” I reply. After a few moments I add “So explain to me why you’re scared of planes and not flying?”

“I don’t mind heights, I just hate being in closed spaces. It freaks me out feeling trapped somewhere, with no way out...” she shivers at the thought.

“Well, there is a way out, I just wouldn’t recommend it” I say, pointing my head towards the
window. She laughs again and her guards glare at me with stone cold faces. I choose to ignore them.

“I actually love flying,” she says almost dreamily.

“So wait- how did you fly without being in a airplane?” I ask; half curious, half intrigued.

“Okay... fine, it was more falling,” she smirks and I laugh.

“How far did you fall exactly? Because, believe it or not, you can actually get hurt from falling off things, I’ve heard you can even die.”

She laughs “In my defence I was 5! And, well, I did break my arm but it was worth it.”

“Should I be congratulating you or...?”

She catches a look from one of her guards and, just like before, the smile on her face vanishes.

“Why are you talking to me?” she suddenly asks “you don’t even know me.”

“Everyone knows you” I reply “You’re princess Dragomir.”

“Nobody knows me” she says quickly, her face staring straight ahead with a hard expression “you know my name and what I look like. But you don’t know me. I could meet thousands of people and have hundreds of friends and still have nobody truly know me.” I stare at her longing face, suddenly overcome with a need to wrap my arms around her securely, but from the looks on her guard’s faces, I’d probably get my face rearranged.

“So what does it mean to truly know someone?” I ask.

She tilts her head and looks at me curiously as if surveying me “Well, firstly we’d know each other’s names,” she says with amusement before turning away again. I laugh “and then you’d know everything about each other. Every dream... fear.... desire... favourite colours... favourite animals... you’d always know how to make each other feel better... and be able to share anything in the world with them, things you’ve never told anybody before... I think that you’d fit together like missing jigsaw puzzles. ” her eyes light up as she shares another glance with me, before turning away again.

“A two piece puzzle? So a very easy puzzle then” I say and she laughs again. “Well... we’re almost there.” I carry on “You’re names well- I don’t know you’re first name, but you’re last names Dragomir. When you were 5 years old you fell off something and broke your arm which sparked your dream of flying. You hate planes, because you don’t like being in closed spaces. I can tell what kind of music you listen to because of the Radiohead and Nirvana badges on your bag” my eyes dart down to her bag and her lips part with shock as she watches me “Also, now these are just wild guesses... You prefer books over movies...You think everything’s better at night...You love the book Alice in Wonderland, not because it’s cute but because you like the dark meaning behind it... And from what you said before, I’m under the impression that you feel like nobody truly knows you”.

A few moments pass as she takes in everything I just said, before replying with a small smile

“Its violet”.

“Huh?” I arch an eyebrow at her.

“My names Violet...” Violet- it definitely suited her “...and I didn’t fall off, I jumped off the roof”

“Wow- you jumped off a roof? You were one badass 5 year old,” I say and she laughs again, before leaning closer to me in her seat. I don’t even think she realised she had done it.

“That’s probably the most exciting thing I’ve ever done,” she admits sadly. “Anyway, enough about me... The only thing I know about you is that you’re names Harry and you’re in a British Boy band. That’s hardly knowing each other.”Once again she tilts her head, her eyes skimming me up and down. Was she checking me out or was Louis right about my immense ego?

“Well... you know how charming and good looking I am,” I smirk and she rolls her eyes “Don’t worry Violet... we still have plenty of time to get to know each other. This is a four hour flight after all.”

She smiles and bites down on her bottom lip “You start”