I flipped through the classic comics looking for Batman (You can never go wrong with Batman)
I was alone. Ok, my friends didn’t abandon me we just subconsciously separated and spread throughout the venue. Frankie and Lori where looking at costumes…I think. Pip had taken Mel for food. Danny was with Fran and Lori. And Charlie. I looked up from the comics thinking to myself, ~where is Charlie? ~
I glanced around; nothing. I took out my phone and texted.
PrincessofDarkness :- Heya! Where are you? Xx
IsSOCool :- Busy ;) xx
Quietly laughing to myself I put my phone away. She must be behind a wall somewhere most likely ‘Busy’ meant ‘I’m sorry but I’m getting the shift; do without me.’
I went back to flipping comics.
I reached for the only Batman I found but dropped it. I bent down to pick it up. I put my hand on the cover only for another hand to land on mine. I snatched my hand away quickly trying to calm the face my face was heating up. “I-I’m sorry...emm…I was just...” I stood up and straightened my floor length red dress. I let my side fringe fall into my face and hid behind it.
“Oh no, it’s fine.” The boy on the floor smiled at me. I held out my hand and he took it. I cased out is outfit as I helped him to his feet.
He wore a black linen top under a chainmail vest and leather waist coat. He wore black studded riding boots and had a sword at his side. I recognized his costume immediately.
“You-you are a son of Rohan.” I stated wide eyed and blushed at my Lord of the Ring choice style of wording.
“Oh course.” He smiled again. He had a cute smile and beautiful blue eyes that shone from behind a shoulder length mop of peroxide blonde hair. He was a foot taller than me and was slim; not slim as in skinny I mean slim as in fit, drop dead hotness.
He bowed. “I am Agrathorn, Son of Aragon.” he took my hand and kissed it. ~FLIRT ALERT! ~
“And what, my fair maiden shall call you?”
I laughed a little; he was speaking as a Rohan, as an actual person from Middle Earth and naturally I was doing the same.
I held my head high and ‘gracefully’ flipped my fringe from my face careful not to let my crown fall.
“You, Son of Aragon, shall call me Nephlida, (nef-lee-da), Princess of the Woodland Elves.” I smiled back because it was hard not to. My smile disappeared when I remembered. “You are the son of Aragon?!” suddenly perplexed.