Miriallia was on the verge of tears when she entered the bathroom.

"Where in the world are the rooms?" She cried to herself in frustration banging her fist on the bathroom wall. Since they arrived she managed to see the kitchen, dining room, backtracked and found the study and drawing room, managed to find a flight of stairs only to find herself discover a stupid bathroom. All Miriallia wanted to do was rip her wedding dress off, and perferably burn it, climb into bed and sleep forever. "Get a grip, Mir, there are four more doors and they can't ALL be bathrooms."

She left the bathroom and looked down the hall. She hadn't seen Dearka since she left him at the entrance. Maybe he left. Yeah, right, fat chance he would do that. She thought to herself while she chose the door across the bathroom. I am seriously going to kill whoever made this dress. She was still wearing the wedding dress. She couldn't even say it was her wedding dress because she didn't pick it out. It was uncomfortable, tight, and itchy. Tears welled up in her eyes as she thought of how she had always thought her wedding day would be the happiest day of her life, and here she was living in a nightmare.

She held the tears in as she opened the door, in case Dearka happened to be in the room. He wasn't, much to her relief. She found herself in a badly decorated room, that looked almost gothic, neither the Goth black nor Goth romantic feel, but everything was medieval and not very comforting. It didn't blend, but at this moment she didn't care. She shut the door and leaned on it. Falling to her knees and allowing herself to cry for the first time since the whole arranged marriage started. She dragged herself to the bed, sobbing but trying not to make any noise and laid herself on it.

(30 minutes later)

Dearka waited till he didn't hear her crying. He had heard her in the bathroom yelling and when he walked into the hall he heard her crying from what his dad had said to be the guest room. He leaned against the door that lead to the guest room and listened as she sobbed. Everything had been quiet for a while. He ever so gently turned the door knob and waited; nothing happened and he found the door to be unlocked, he opened it gently and quietly. He didn't realize that he had held his breath when he saw her sleeping soundly on the bed. The train of her dress was hanging off the side and she was curled in a ball hugging a pillow. He had to admit the dress wasn't all that pretty. It was lacy and looked as if it was going to strangle the life out of her, but, to his surprise, it didn't. She was still as fiery as ever. He moved toward the bed and sat at the end of it. He just sat there against the post of the bed and watched her sleep.

(Hour later)

Miriallia started to open her eyes. They felt like a ton of bricks, due to the crying. She hugged the pillow tighter to her and cuddled into the warmth of it, until she realized that it was moving. She opened her eyes, forcing them to examine the pillow. She saw white and black, but she could have sworn the pillow was an ugly red/orange color. She squinted her eyes, closed them and refocused to find that the white and black was the tux that Dearka was wearing. In fact, her whole pillow turned into Dearka. She looked up scared and then started to relax to see that he was asleep. She smoothly looked around and saw that he didn't have his arms around her but had them under his head. She, on the other hand, was resting her right arm across his torso, as she laid on her side and had been nuzzling the side of his torso, right beneath the underarm, while she had been asleep. Immediately she started to blush as she registered all this.

I can't believe I didn't even realize that I'd been hugging him. She started to gently ease away from him. Please, don't wake up. Please don't wake up.

"Don't want to sleep next to a coordinator, huh? You really hate me that much?" Dearka asked without moving or opening his eyes.

Dang it! Miriallia thought to herself.

"I…no…it's…" Miriallia was blushing and shocked that she didn't know how to respond.

"Forget it." He said sitting up. "Our room is the next door over on the left. You'll find your clothes in there." Dearka got up and started to leave.

"Oh." Was all Miriallia could respond with. How lame, oh? What is wrong with you? "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to lay on you. I didn't even realize my pillow…where is my pillow?"

"What, that ugly thing?" He said pointing to the pillow on the ground. Miriallia turned red as she tried to think of how it came to be on the ground and how he came to be the pillow. "While you were sleeping you nudged it off the bed and started crying. I tried putting it back but you just tossed it on the floor while you slept and cried."

"So, how came you to be 'my' pillow?" Miriallia asked skeptically, while she tried to hide her blushing cheeks as she couldn't hold eye contact with him.

"Are you claiming me?" Dearka teased, Miriallia turned beat red as she looked up in shock at him and then anger filled her eyes. Dearka raised his arms in surrender as he nonchalantly answered her question. "You started to hyperventilate, so I tried to calm you down. I started stroking your forehead and after a while, I just laid down next to you. When you finally stopped the water works you held onto me." Dearka shrugged his shoulders and put his hands in his pockets, and looked at her with a devilish smile. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"YOU!" Miriallia tried to formulate her thoughts but it wasn't happening at this moment. She was still tired, her head ached so much she felt like throwing up, and she was hungry.

"Look, the way I see it, we're going to be in this situation for a while." Dearka let out a huge sigh. "We might want to try to keep our arguments to a minimum."

"Stop pestering me and I will." Miriallia said through gritted teeth. Her stomach than felt like embarrassing her even more by rumbling. She placed her hand over her stomach, cursing it in her head, and didn't dare look up.

"I'm hungry too; you like stir fry?"