·Jesse didn’t talk much with his biological father. He didn’t talk much with any of the men that at one point called themselves his father. But with the holidays quickly approaching, Jesse knew he had to try to at least reach out to the man. Christmas, father’s day, and Jesse’s birthday being the three chances he gave his father to actually make an attempt to be a dad. More often than not, the Swedish business magnet didn’t even answer the phone when Jesse called. A few days later Jesse receiving some sort of text or e-mail apologizing for not being available and some short sentiment on how ‘proud’ he was of the boy. Ending the whole ordeal with paying Jesse some large amount to buy his affection. Which worked when Jesse was young. Now? It was just sad. The money was a pointless gift when the man’s bank account rivaled the national treasury of a small country’s. He didn’t want cash or a new car. All he wanted was to have some sort of relationship with his father.
He prepared himself for disappointment once again. Standing on his balcony, one of the few places he had service, he made sure to triple check his math with the differing time zones and call at an appropriate time for the man to hopefully pick up. No luck. He waited a few minutes, called again. No answer again. Another break. Third time is not the charm, as the man once again didn’t pick up. Defeated, Jesse gave up. Didn’t even bother leaving a message. Not like he would listen to it anyway.
Walking back into the room, Jesse threw his phone onto the bed. He knew he was maybe a little too old to be waiting for Daddy to return his call. But Jesse couldn’t help it. He, for once, wanted to have that man to man talk like in the movies. Get advice from someone other than his mother, who approved of Jesse no matter what he did. His father hadn’t even spoken to him since he’s been crowned. Not even so much as a text. He was to be king someday. He was completely lost. About to run the country he loved so much, married to someone he might not even love. It was a huge blip on the nearly easy road he had been going on since he was born.
The frustration caught up with him suddenly. As he stared at the phone amongst the sheets. Still a dark screen, he felt his eyes begin to well up. It wasn’t very often Jesse cried. He rarely had a reason to. And honestly, the feeling in itself felt foolish. He much rather live his life worry and care free. As the first tear fell down his cheek, he quickly wiped it away. Annoyed with himself for letting it get this bad. Crying over his father who was only doing exactly as Jesse expected him to be, was just not worth the effort. He shouldn’t care this much if his father wants nothing to do with him. It wasn’t like the man was ever really a presence in his life. He was merely a sperm donor, not a father. Not to Jesse at least. And yet he couldn’t shake the disappointment from his head. He wanted to so badly to have that connection. And it broke his heart that he would never get it.
Two measly tears now had escaped. Despite how much Jesse was trying to fight it. Then, the kick while he was already down - he heard the knock of the door. It was Thursday. Jesse had invited Eden over to have tea on Thursday. Shit. He had completely forgot. Time going by at a different rate so far from society. But it was Eden. Sweet, perfect Eden. He couldn’t just cancel. Not now. The duchess was too innocent to say no to. She was a beaming, shining light and Jesse would forever be grateful to have the woman in his life. She didn’t deserve to have to deal with his grumpy ass today.
So Jesse composed himself. Quickly wiping his tear stained cheeks dry and hoping it wasn’t too noticeable, as he made his way over to the door. He took a deep breath and painted on the charming smile the duchess was used to, before opening the door. “Eden! My love! Don’t think I forgot about our tea date!”
Even after what was now a few months, Thailand was, well...still Thailand. It was warm, it was humid, and fresh sea air filled Eden's lungs with every breath she took. And yet, something was changing....maybe? The transition into winter was the only tangible explanation the duchess had for the inexplicable feeling which seemed to surround and permeate her since...well, she didn't quite know when. The inevitable 'rainy season', as it seemed to be called, should have stirred a certain dread within her, what with the wind and storms that the island was sure to face in the coming months, but this mystery feeling wasn't heavy or cold or confining. It was light, warm, free, hopeful.
Eden had shoved aside any and all ponderings that morning, while she arguably over-prepared to make the trek of about three minutes (tops) across the palace to Jesse’s suite. The ever-charming prince had deigned to call the friendly get-together a tea 'date' from the moment they'd made their plans, which was equally as on-brand for the Swede as it would be wounding to Eden's rather fragile heart, if she allowed herself to dwell on it. She did not. And so, instead of being wounded, Eden was simply excited. Any chance to spend time with Jesse was one the duchess looked forward to, and the promise of spending time with him alone never failed to have her losing sleep out of giddiness. The previous night being no exception.
Jesse would have tea of his own in his rooms, no doubt, but Eden knew that coffee was his default...and that had her questioning the variety he possessed. The simple solution was to bring along a sampling of her own collection—pared down from the one she had back home, but ultimately, not by much—but simple solutions and Eden Galatas didn't often jive with one another. Thus, instead of one or two teas...or four, or five...Eden left her suite with a tote bag full of twelve different teas. Then, in her excitement to get to Jesse's door, she nearly forgot to stop by the kitchens to pick up the batch of pastries she'd asked the very witchy-looking, very scary chef to make for her—a request which had taken Eden a solid three days to work up the courage to make. But, alas, with her bag full of tea, her plastic-wrapped plate full of pastries, and her awareness of anything she might've actually forgotten lost to the aether, Eden finally came to a halt in front of Jesse's door.
It took a bit longer than expected for Eden to hear any sign of life on the other side after she had knocked, but just as she was beginning to feel worry creep in, she heard the tell-tale click of the handle turning. The smile which greeted her was as dazzling as ever, but the requisite evaporation of breath from her lungs stopped itself short this time. There was something different about Jesse's face. Something not quite right—enough so that Eden barely felt the sting of the endearment he used in greeting her. Her hazel eyes scanned over his features over the course of a fleeting second, noting firstly that they were as breathtaking as ever, but secondly, that the smile he wore was far less effortless than it always seemed. As if instead of merely flipping it on with a switch, he was having to manually crank the generator which powered it. She tried not to let on her suspicion right away, instead playfully narrowing her eyes in response to his words as she stepped past him into his sitting area. But once she was there, she set down the plate on the coffee table, and turned to face the prince with a much-softened expression.
"No use trying to hide from me, J." she began, tilting her head towards the couch. "Have a seat."
