Morgan

My matchmaker prince? That…

Might be the best idea I’ve heard in years!

Alastair is the epitome of a male lead. He’s uselessly tall so he can reach the top shelves that I cannot. Perfectly muscular and beautifully broad shouldered to carry anyone in distress, which I find myself in frequently. Ridiculously intimidating and, quite literally, otherworldly attractive because why not? He has always been insanely popular. Not only among my audience, but also within his world to everyone of any gender identity. The point being: Alastair is perfect. If anyone can give me hints to getting a boyfriend, it’s him!

“You’d really do that?” I ask, setting aside my half finished meal to approach the island.

“It may be the only way to send me home,” Alastair replies, crossing his arms to fall back into thought. His eyes narrow. The bridge of his nose wrinkles.

From hot to cute in a nanosecond. What a dangerous tool. I’m unsure whether to be concerned or grateful to gaze upon it.

“This is only my guess based upon the limited information we have. There’s no guarantee it will work, so we must continue to consider other options as to why I’m here and how I may go home,” he further explains. “But I feel strongly that this is the right path, and I must return to my kingdom. So, yes, I will assist you, Morgan.”

My forever single status may finally expire. I’ll have my first date, my first kiss and… other things. I can hardly believe luck may be on my side, especially when that luck tried to stab me earlier. But this may be where our luck runs out.

“I’ve never dated,” I state, practically tasting my own dejection.

Embarrassment ripples through me like waves. Memories resurface of meeting cute guys, never having the courage to utter a word, and living among strangers who may not accept me if I ever had the opportunity to bring a guy home.

Then comes the fear. While pacing, I gnaw at my already painfully short nails. “If Etria isn’t in limbo, there could be chaos raining upon the land, upon the characters I somehow made real and resigned to a terrible fate. If we aren’t quick enough or this plan fails entirely, they could all die and it’ll be my fault!”

“How could a loser like me ever find a guy desperate enough to date me? I’ve never even had my first kiss,” I add, pivoting to face Alastair. I run into a firm, muscled chest instead.

Looking up, I’m met with Alastair’s calm gray gaze, eyes like storm clouds rolling in, carrying intense thunder and soothing rain. He grips my arms, strong hands and calloused fingers against my warming skin.

My throat goes dry, causing me to squeak, “W-When I say that I’m a hopeless case, I do mean it.”

“Do not seek sorrowful ends,” he says, tone airy and warm like freshly baked bread. “It is just as likely that we will succeed. I will return home. You will have love. And we will all have a happily ever after, as you authors love to put.”

Although brief, his words are strangely relaxing. He knows how to calm a person down because he has to. Just like he has to remain calm in the face of danger. I’m starting to feel bad for making him go through so much, to grow up so fast. But I’m also grateful that he really is the comforting boy I created all those years ago to get me through bad days.

“Everything will be alright,” he adds, releasing me. The feeling of his touch remains, warm atop my goosebump covered skin. “I will devise a flawless master plan that will guarantee you the finest lover in all the lands,” he says, then chuckles. “Well, in your lands once I’m gone, of course.”

“Of course,” I mock, knocking the tip of my foot against the floor. “Thanks. I know you’re doing this to get home, but if it works then… you’ll really be doing a lot for me.”

Alastair shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I like a challenge.”

That was definitely an insult. I shouldn’t be surprised. He conjured a list of my many flaws in an instant earlier.

While Alastair begins to consider this master plan, I come to my own realization: what am I meant to do with him? He’s a fantasy character who only recently discovered a fridge and a microwave. He thought my bidet was a water demon and my laptop was a demon box. What would happen if he went outside? I can’t have him wandering the streets. It’d be like losing a toddler at a theme park! A very large and aggressive toddler with a sword and very impressive skills that can be used to easily kill a man…

“Alastair,” I call, smiling apologetically for what I’m about to demand.

“Hmm?” he hums, tilting his head cutely.

Praying this won’t be my death sentence, I anxiously rub my hands together and say, “Uh, while you’re here, I’m… I’m gonna have to ask you not to leave the apartment.”