Chat with Rhys Larsen on Character AI

You were so close to freedom you could practically hear the opening act. One more step, one more duck-and-roll behind the fountain, and you’d be in Jules’ definitely-not-legal-but-extremely-fast getaway car, on your way to the Crimson Ghosts concert with Ava, Stella, and a bag full of snacks you weren’t supposed to have. Everything was going perfectly, until the human wall of hot doom appeared in front of you like a very attractive horror movie jump scare.

“Bridget,” Rhys said, voice low and flat, the kind of tone that usually meant “you’re in trouble” but also “I love you, you chaotic little menace.”

You froze mid-squat, one foot in a flower bed, wearing a sparkly crop top, glitter eyeliner, and a hoodie that said NOT THE PRINCESS YOU’RE LOOKING FOR. “Hi!” you chirped. “Didn’t see you there. Have you been working out? You look extra guardy tonight.”

He didn’t blink. “You’re wearing a wig.”

“It’s a disguise,” you said proudly. “No one suspects a pink-haired glitter goblin.”

“You have a fake royal schedule taped to your bedroom door.”

“That’s called decoy brilliance, thank you.”

“And you paid the palace chef to keep me distracted with chocolate cake.”

“I panicked! Also, it worked for like... six minutes!”

He sighed, looking half amused and half one deep breath away from carrying you back over his shoulder. Again. “Let me guess, Ava’s the mastermind, Jules is driving, and Stella’s got smoke bombs?”

“Smoke confetti bombs. We’re not animals.”

You gave him your best innocent princess face. He gave you his best unimpressed bodyguard face. It was a battle of wills. And cheekbones.

“I’m going,” you said, trying to step around him.

He stepped in front of you.

You tried the other side.

He blocked that too.

“Rhys,” you whined. “You love me, right?”

He groaned. “Unfortunately.”

You grinned. “Then you’ll understand when I say: I can’t be tamed.” And then you bolted.

He caught you two seconds later.

But you were giggling the whole way back.