WARMTH ━ bradley james

WARMTH
( bradley james )

15 | real life

          The wind tears through Heather's hair and slaps her cheeks as she stands, in just a flimsy white dress, outside the steps to the chateau — two dozen camera crew barking orders for her to obey.

          Any other scene, and Heather would feel fine — but this is no ordinary scene. A brutal reminder of that fact stands barely ten steps away, shivering in his own thin, red, cotton shirt and black pants.

          Someone guides her to her spot, though she's too lost in her own thoughts to notice who, and soon comes the countdown and John's voice as he prepares to run the cameras. "Hey, you'll be fine," Bradley says, noticing her nervousness.

          All she can do is nod, (either that or throw up on him right there and then) and soon enough the dreaded word ACTION! comes flying out of John's mouth and hits Heather square in the face. The words from her script fly round her head and she desperately tries to clutch at them and get through the scene without a single mistake.

          "Jules!" Bradley calls, and Heather turns on cue, smiling wide at the sight of her prince.

          "Arthur! Is all well?"

          "Yes, fine, I just wanted to check that you were alright." Heather inwardly smiles as she recognises the parallels between Bradley and his character in this moment.

          "I'm alright, you could say," Heather replies, as the two walk up the steps to the chateau, several cameras following. "Just worried about the Lady Morgana, that's all."

          Bradley frowns. "She'll pull through, I know she will. You have to have faith."

          "And do you? How are you coping with all of this?"

          He sighs. "As well as I can be, I suppose." They begin to walk through the halls, one or two extras passing them as is written in the script. So far, so good. "I just feel as if I've let her down in some way; like it's my fault that this has happened in the first place."

          Heather places a hand on his arm, and warmth floods through her. "You cannot place blame on yourself, Arthur. Morgana's fall was not your fault. It was just a terrible accident."

          "But that's just it, Jules. Morgana is like a sister to me, and I'm supposed to prevent accidents like this happening. I'm supposed to protect her, like my father has always done."

          "Arthur, listen to me," Heather commands and the two stop. "You are not your father, and you will never be. You are more than twice the man your father is; you hold more honour, mercy, compassion and kindness in your heart from your twenty three years on this earth than Uther has ever shown in his entire life. You are destined to be a great king, Arthur Pendragon, and to do great things." She looks up, and sees that she is standing far too close to Bradley for her to concentrate, his kind eyes doing nothing to ease the fluttering in her stomach. "Morgana would not want you to punish yourself like this..." Her tone grows softer and the hallways are empty, but she suddenly can't breathe. The pillars are closing in and the cameras are too close, too watchful. "And... and-"

          CUT! John calls and Heather's shoulders slump in defeat. It was all going so well. She blushes in embarrassment and Bradley rubs her shoulder as he offers her words of encouragement.

          "Don't stress about it, H." They go back to the beginning and the cameras roll as soon as they get in place. Heather assures John that she does know the script (of course she knows it, she's been fretting over it ever since she got it two days ago) — that this time she'll get it right.

          They run from the beginning, the words passing two and fro smoothly until they reach the inside of the castle.

          "You are destined to be a great king, Arthur Pendragon, and to do great things." She looks up, and forces herself to continue. "Morgana would not want you to punish yourself like this." Bradley gazes at her with a look full of surprise, admiration, and most of all, love. He's playing a character, she tells herself. "I can't stand to see you worry, Arthur. You mean too much to me..." She leans closer, and her hand on his arm is gripping the sleeve a little too tightly, but Heather doesn't care, and neither does he.

When her lips touch his at long last, the moment can't be described as anything except euphoria; a part of her longs to cry out in unrestrained joy at the realisation that this has been a long time coming — she's wanted this for a while now. The script said 'deep and full of longing' and oh boy does it feel that way.

In this moment, the camera crew, the extras, the castle — all of it falls away until there's just Heather and Bradley, two souls who have unknowingly become connected and entangled beyond their comprehension. Bradley moves his left hand to rest on her waist, the other supporting her back and sending sparks shooting like fire through her veins as Heather slides her hand to the back of his neck, tugging lightly on strands of his blond hair.

They're no longer Jules and Arthur, those characters are long forgotten as Heather smiles into the kiss — almost losing herself as her surroundings fade to nothing. Is this what heaven feels like? She wonders. Surely, it must be.

What was merely seconds felt like a lifetime to the two parties, yet it's still too soon before they are pulling away from each other, cheeks flushed and eyes shining, as Bradley leans his forehead against hers. John shouts SCENE! and the moment is lost. Bradley pulls away, turning the warmth in her bones to a chill. She forces down a smile and the heat that rises to her cheeks when several members of the crew start whistling and cheering in the background.

Bradley simply laughs the noises off before turning to Heather. "Not bad," he winks. "I was almost tempted to mess up just so we'd have to run it again." Before she can even muster a ghost of a reply, he walks off in the direction of his trailer, leaving Heather blushing furiously and kicking herself for even enjoying one second of the stupid kiss.

She'll come to regret it later, she knows it; but for now she lets her cheeks flame red and her heart beat wildly — for she doesn't think she's ever known a better feeling than Bradley James' lips on hers.

Only hours later, in the comfort and privacy of her hotel room does she replay the kiss one last time and realise what a fool she's been.

Oh Bradley, what the hell you done to me?

a/n.                      confession time; i've never kissed a guy before so i have no idea how tf it's supposed to go. sorry that this was cringy and ew, but with no experience to base this chapter off, it will have to do for now :/