I start dragging Mickey along as he chuckles at all my huffing. He isn’t moving fast enough. “Come on!”
He smiles at me. “It isn’t even open yet.”
I snarl. “We need to get to the front of the line.”
With a relenting sigh and a knowing smirk, we jog the rest of the way until we get to the queue. Once we’re inside, he tags along behind me without question, going from ride to ride and feeding me copious amounts of ridiculously over-priced food.
“Those gloves would be perfect for you if you ever fight again.” I giggle, loving the grumpy look on his face because of how ridiculous he looks with sleeve tattoos, wearing an orange-and-black tie-dyed Mickey Mouse t-shirt—we’re matching—black jeans, combat boots, murderous gunmetal eyes, a Daisy Duck backpack, mouse ears, and the big four-fingered Mickey gloves.
He’s my own personal homicidal Mickey Mouse. He’s all mine.
“The material is itchy,” he grumbles.
My sloppy, curled fist hits his chest half-heartedly. “Extra padding for when you punch people.”
“It’s uncomfortable.”
Grabbing a creepy Mickey Mouse mask from off the shelf, I put it against his head and tip my head to the side. “Mmm, no. I prefer your other mask.” I return it to the shelf just as the alarm on his phone goes off.
He doesn’t move a muscle as I strip him of the gloves, light-up lanyard, and the feather scarf I wrapped around his neck. I barely notice his burning stare, too excited for the grand finale. Shifting my weight, I wince from the pain radiating down my legs and up my back. I could really use a massage.
Turning his head to give me his non-face-painted cheek, I give him a big, fat kiss before pulling him out into the night. During the day, the park is stunning and otherworldly. It’s nothing short of magical at night, from the twinkling lights and the music streaming through the warm air.
“Come on!” I squeal when Roman slows.
He sighs dramatically, but his lips are drawn in a menacing grin when I snap my attention toward him and his negative attitude. I don’t see him moving until I’m pressed against his chest, feet dangling in the air, and arms automatically locked around his neck.
“Put me down!” Please, don’t put me down. I’ve been running from ride to ride and standing all damn day. My feet hurt, my muscles ache, and there’s a pinch in my lower back. I’m not going to let my pain ruin our night, though.
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been able to hold you all day.”
Lie. “You hug me every time we wait in line.”
“Not enough.”
“Fine,” I relent, trying to hide my smile in the crook of his neck. Mickey always knows what I need without me needing to say it. “You can carry me, as long as you walk faster.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Princess.”
“We’re going to miss it!”
“Maybe if I throw you over my shoulder, I won’t hear you complaining.”
My jaw drops. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Oops. Did I say that out loud?”
My gaze narrows. “Prick.”
“You love me for it.”
The only certainty in life is death. But that rule doesn’t apply to me. I love Roman Riviera, and that’s the only truth I know beyond a shadow of a doubt.
My feet don’t hit the ground until banners swing on either side of the bridge and the palace is close enough to touch. A mirage of colors lights up the castle: blue spires and pink walls, and an ethereal hue covering the fortress bricks.
With Mickey’s hand clutched in mine, he weaves us through the throngs of families, staring people down （yes, he’s glaring at kids with no shame） until we reach the very front, where he folds up a jersey for me to sit on.
A band marches past and dancers and gymnasts twirl and smile as their gowns ripple and sway. I glance up at Roman behind me to find him already looking down at me.
Averting my attention back to the show, a blush heats my cheeks. His eyes belong to me, even in a place with colors and music. I peek another look and giggle silently at his crossed arms and unamused stare as he watches the performance. When he catches me looking, his face softens, lips curling up into a soft smile.
He holds out his hand, and I take it without hesitation, leading us away from the crowd until we reach a secluded spot by the front of the castle. Light colors the contours of his face, glimmering against his hypnotic eyes.
“Dance with me, Princess.”
“I can’t dance,” I breathe, holding on to his hand because I never want to let go of him.