"You can cry if you want..." Xhemin asked, her voice shaking as she was still crying under the prince's arms. She was resting her head in between his shoulder and neck and she could clearly feel his throat shaking as if he was withholding his own cries.
"Shut up," Huzey was in denial. He will not shed a tear in front of her, never. "You are the only cry baby in all of grandad's children"
"Ziggy cries more than me," She reminded him. "It was a settled fact when we were young that he cries the most,"
"Looks like the spot had been taken by you now,"
Xhemin pushed him away and looked at him. "Stop teasing me. I'm already leaving and yet you are not giving me a break. Also—"
Xhemin was about to say something more when she noticed the painting Huzey was working on when she came. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment and eventually dragged it back to the prince.
"It's her again," Xhemin noted. "You are painting her again,"