The first place James took me was the guest receptionist desk. Though, instead of a person manning the desk, there was a silver laptop with a lit screen, showing a list of guest names and their corresponding room number.

James scrolled through a variety of names before turning to me. Apparently I wasn't the only Elena in the system.

"What's your number?" He asked casually, as if having a number instead of a last name is normal.

"Zero," I said with a smirk.

James quickly scrolled through names until he reached a string of Elenas with zeros as their starting number.

"This would go much quicker if you told me your entire number," he reminded me with a frown.

I couldn't contain my laughter. Boys, I thought as a smug expression took over my face.

"What?" James frowned, genuinely confused by my behavior.

"I don't have a number," I stated as if it was obvious. "Why else would I suggest the 'ludicrous' idea of last names?" I said, imitating his previous tone perfectly, if I do say so myself.

James furrowed his eyebrows and glanced over his shoulder as if someone would jump out and attack us.

"You're an Earth Human?!" He whispered in a tone of shock and hurt.

I twisted my lips downward and stared into his grey eyes.

"I am from Earth, if that is what you were asking," I said curtly, annoyed by his changed tone.

Why should it matter if I'm from Earth? It's not like I judged him for being not from Earth. Boys, I internally groaned.

James nearly jumped backwards to the wall facing me, and leaned his head back against the silver panels, staring up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and hesitantly turned to face me.

"You didn't tell me." He said in a firm voice with zero accusation.

I shrugged and shifted so I faced the wide window behind me. It revealed thousands of white speckles that reflected against the brilliant deep blue and smoky purple clouds in the dark sky.

"You didn't ask," I stated very matter-of-factly. "And it's not as if we exactly know each other"

"But we're supposed to," James hissed under his breath in a tone of frustration and annoyance.

"What do you mean?" I asked, perking my eyebrow in both interest and confusion.

James adjusted himself against the wall panels so he was in a more comfortable position, casually leaning against the silver panels; before he raised an eyebrow towards me with a restrained expression.

"My parents claim to have found me the perfect girl. Her name is Elena, and they informed me that she isn't in the system so I shouldn't bother looking in it for her. Per family...tradition, the soul mate of my...line is usually from a different planet. You mean to tell me this girl isn't you?" He said accusingly, raising an eyebrow as if I should have any idea about what he was talking about.

"Don't ask me," I snapped, crossing my arms angrily across my body. "I would say I know as little about this as you do, but you seem to know more about this than me, so don't you dare get mad at me for your parents' lack of information."

James mirrored my actions, crossing his arms angrily against his muscular body after pushing himself away from the walls. He combed his hands repeatedly through his messy, unkempt hair, as he paced frantically in front of me.

"I feel so stupid," he muttered, reprimanding himself, while running a troubled hand across his forehead.

"You feel stupid?" My voice cracked as hurt broke through my usually controlled voice. "For the first time since I walked onto this ship, someone treated me like I was normal. But I guess that was all a front, huh? As soon as you find out that I'm different, you feel the need to treat me differently, just like everyone else." I paused, the puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. "You're the prince, aren't you?" I said softly with tears in my eyes. "That's why the King and Queen brought me here, isn't it? It was to marry...you," I choked out with a fresh set of tears streaming down my cheeks.

James appeared very taken aback, almost in a state of shock. His eyes searched desperately along every inch of my body, almost as if he was looking for a lie, some hidden secret that I was purposely keeping from him to hurt him. When he came up short, finally realizing I was far more clueless than he was on the whole "marriage" subject, he strode over and wrapped his arms around my body into a warm hug.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against my ear, pulling my sobbing form closer to his chest.

I wanted to tell him to go away. I wanted to tell him that I was fine and I didn't need his comfort let alone his help. But that was a lie.

I needed James' comfort and help far more than I cared to admit. And worst of all, I didn't even realize how much I needed him until I was curled up on the tile floor, sobbing into his white t-shirt.

***

I didn't keep track of the time. For all I know I could've been sobbing for hours on end; I wouldn't have known the difference

James let me sob into his shirt, rubbing small circles against my back, as I clung to him for dear life.

All the pain that I've felt since my parents died and I was separated from my sister and only friend came gushing out like a broken water dam. I couldn't contain it inside and I couldn't stop it from spreading throughout every crevice of my body.

A small, desperate part of me didn't want the crying to ever stop because it was strangely comforting. But the more sensible part of me pleaded for the tears to go away. If I didn't feel the pain of losing my loved ones, I couldn't miss them, which would make life infinitely easier than getting purposefully drunk to forget the pain.

If someone asked me this morning if I ever intended to get drunk again, my answer would have been a simple no. I wouldn't have been able to understand the pull of getting drunk again. Though I didn't mention it to James, after several glasses of bourbon, my head hurt and I felt just nauseous enough to not vomit, which wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world. And as much as I hate to admit it, James actually did make me temporarily forget my problems; even more so than all of the alcohol I drank combined. But that was all it was; temporary.

Now, puffy-eyed with tear tracks and snot running down my face, I wanted nothing more than to grab a large bottle of bourbon and drink until I felt so sick that I couldn't even stand. Something about the idea of physically punishing myself to make the suffocating pain nearly unbearable, comforted me. I deserve to feel this pain. I deserve to be punished and sob until my chest aches; because my parents aren't here, but I still am.

"No," James says firmly, still holding me tightly against his chest. "You don't deserve the pain of losing your parents, and you most certainly do not deserve to be punished for it. I won't allow it. This isn't your fault, Elena," he soothed, rubbing my back as a few final whimpers escaped from my lips.

Eventually, James and I settled into a somewhat comfortable silence after I finished sobbing. He still cradled my body against his chest, aiding the fading ache inside my chest.

There was some unspoken agreement between us, an understanding, that hung in the silence, and I was grateful for it.

After wiping away any remaining tears with the backs of my hands, I pulled away from where my head was nested into James' shirt, and I shifted my gaze down to stare at my hands.

"Are you alright?" James asked softly with a great amount of concern present in his voice.

I stared blankly at my hands, as if I hadn't heard him, and frowned amidst the sadness that filled my lungs.

"I don't know anymore," I whispered helplessly against the tile.

"It's okay if you're not," James soothed. "No one expects you to be. Especially after what you've been through."

I groaned and pulled away from his touch.

"That's exactly why I have to be alright," I stubbornly argued. "Everyone expects me to be weak. I want to be strong."

"That's where you're wrong," James corrected me with an amused smile playing on his lips. "There is strength in allowing yourself to feel pain because not only does it make you feel better," he said with a reassuring smile, "But it also makes you a stronger person."

I peered up at his striking grey eyes and allowed myself to share an impressed smile with him.

"I didn't realize you were so philosophical," I said amused.

"I try," James said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, and sighed as I finally felt the weight lift off of my chest.

"It must be a prince thing."

"That's offensive."

"Really?" I asked curiously, pushing myself off the ground so I was standing over James. "I meant for it to be a compliment more than an insult."

"You complimented me?" James asked in mock shock, as he mirrored my actions so he was standing beside me. "I thought you hated me an hour ago?"

"I did," I reassured him with a light laugh. "But in my defense, you hated me first."

"I did not!" James passionately challenged me, though I could tell he wasn't being serious.

"Why else would you insult my intelligence?"

James cupped his fingers around his chin and glanced over me curiously.

"When did I insult your intelligence?"

"When you called me an 'Earth Human"," I reminded him, giving him an expectant look.

"I never said I thought Earth Humans were unintelligent," James said casually with a hint of a smile.

"You implied it."

"How?"

"'Naming a child twice surely falls under the realm of Earth Humans?'" I said, mocking his overexcited and confident tone.

James shook his head at me and laughed.

"That is not insulting your intelligence. It is merely stating a fact," he said with a smug twist to his lips.

"You're impossible," I groaned, shifting my eyes towards the ceiling.

"Only sometimes," he said with a smirk.

"I suppose you'll make me stick around for those few times when you aren't?" I said with a sigh. I got the feeling that after my breakdown today, James had zero intention of leaving me alone, and I had no doubt that it had nothing to do with his parents or marriage.

"You would be correct. Who else will save you from your drunkenness?" James teased with an unyielding and very annoying smirk.

"My liver?" I suggested, turning my back so I could walk back the way we came hours ago.

James ran to catch up to me, matching my pace perfectly so we were side-by-side.

"You're not wrong. Though, there comes a point where your liver can only do so much...."

That was the end of my self-control. I playfully hit his arm and childishly groaned.

"It was one time! And you were there too!" I nearly shouted.

"I know- I know, touchy...remind me not to make you angry," James shook his head as if the idea was truly a frightening thought.

"You are utterly exhausting," I sighed. "I'm returning to my room."

"What about lunch?" James said with a disappointed frown.

"Rain Check?" I offered with a sheepish grin. As much as I wanted to show my gratitude towards James, I didn't have the physical or mental energy to do much of anything but sleep. Having a meltdown in the middle of a room tends to suck the energy out of you, quite literally.

"For tomorrow?" James asked; his eyebrows lifted questioningly.

"If you insist," I sighed.

I was about to turn away to head back to my room, but that was before I remembered I didn't technically have a room.

James was already halfway across the room when I called his name.

"James? What about my room?"

He smirked and shook his head.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't bring it up sooner, but it doesn't really matter anyway. You get to keep the room you stayed in last night. After all, it is quite literally yours."

I desperately wanted to ask him what he meant about the room being mine, but the drowsiness pressing against the back of my mind reminded me that I had all day tomorrow to ask him, or I had lunch, at the very least.

So instead of bothering James with my ever-growing list of questions, I thanked him, and turned away to head back toward my room, where I could receive some much needed rest after a rather long and accusatory morning.