22| Defeat

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Defeat

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Chapter 22: Defeat (Ronan's POV)

We walked into the house with me holding both our bags in one hand as I unlocked the door. "Welcome to your home for the next few days. You're free to take a look around," I said, closing the door behind me. "There's a small library, it's more of a study, near the staircase. The bedroom downstairs is locked up, that used to be my grandparents' so only my grandma goes there. We're upstairs. The backyard is pretty small but you can still use it for your daily strolls that you haven't been doing in a while." 

She turned to me, surprised that I noticed. 

"Not that you've had the time. And the kitchen is right there to the left, the living room to the right, there's a basement through the door under the stairs. It's a storage space but you can use it for hiding, just in case, hmm?" 

She nodded numbly, watching me talk. 

"So, let's go upstairs, you can see your room and mine." 

She followed me upstairs, looking down the left and right hall. 

"My room is to the left, it's at the end of the hallway. You can stay in the guestroom right next to me. The other end of the hallway has the other guestroom, a bunch of paintings and photos on the wall, and my dad's old room." I pushed the door open to her room. "Here you go. You have everything you might need, spare toiletries included." I set my bags down and then took a look around because even I hadn't been here in a little while, especially in this room. 

"Can I see your room?" 

I blinked, turning to her. "What?" 

"Your room," she repeated. "Can I see it?" 

I hesitated because in no world should she be asking to see my room. That could lead to such a huge forbidden disaster. It's already difficult enough for me when every nerve in my body has learned to want something I can't have. 

Her. In every way possible, in every position possible. 

I swear to god, if anyone finds out, the king will have my head. "Okay," I nodded. She trailed behind me as we left her room for the time being and headed to my room. It's been my room ever since I lived here as a kid, it's extremely personalized, it's not something I should be showing her. Letting her see my room would bring us closer without even trying, I'm letting her into the place nobody except my grandparents have ever seen. Even growing up, I would never bring a friend home, I would always go to their house. It just felt weird. 

I also didn't tell most people that my parents were dead and I lived with my grandparents. It was a triggering subject and it made people look at me weird. I pushed the door open and then stepped aside. 

She walked in behind me, her eyes scanning the room. 

The black walls, the oakwood desk under the window, the king-sized bed smack dab in the middle, the dresser that was to the right of the door, the closet to the bed's right, the bathroom was near the closet. I had a few pictures sitting up here, some on my desk, some on the nightstands. Mostly childhood pictures, some with my parents, others with my grandparents. I had books stacked on the shelf. I know for a fact I had my things put away in an organized manner but it was my room, there are little pieces of me everywhere. 

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