#*kristoffer s.

[daliaradziwill]

dalia reminded herself that she loves mimi, that mimi is her friend, that this was a painless favour, but as her eyes drifted off to the windows and her fingers itched for her phone, she could only turn her green eyes back to kristoffer. “i feel like we’re back in the middle ages... when they didn’t have photographs or instagram filters. people back then have no choice to painting each other for fun.” she crossed and uncrossed her legs, fussing needlessly with the hem of her shirt. “you could’ve used a picture, you know - although... i’m not sure if i trust you enough to do this, i didn’t even knew you painted.” ( @krstoffcrs​ ) 

[daliaradziwill]

“so how does this work?” she murmured, more to her glass than the man in front of her. unfortunately the attention from the press stopped when they stepped into the private party, in which the trained eyes of royals hardly held the same satisfaction. “do we stop pretending to be all loved up in front of this lot? or is it still necessary?” ( @krstoffcrs​ ) 

[daliaradziwill]

dalia was done crying. she had left her brother’s presence just as the dam was breaking, and rounded the corner just as a sob exploded from her chest -- that was almost a week ago now, and her wretchedness only had persisted as a dull ache. her eyes lifted to meet his, her fiancé: the crown heir of norway, and she wondered if she had imagined someone more grand. the usual limousine was replaced by something smaller, something bulletproof, an unexpected reminder that dalia had decidedly left the life she once led.

“it’s a james bond movie, by the way.” it was the first words she had said to him after they had been shepherded into the car. “daniel craig’s last one, or so he says.” dalia didn’t laugh, but sighed as she looked outside the window. the glistening red carpet was only a few cars ahead of them. “i’ll only speak to one reporter, the palace had already cleared the questions -- so there wont be any surprises.”  ( krstoffcrs​ )