#chance sutton

[maypearlss]

hey this is chance and here’s week 4’s prompt. how do strangers within the world view your protagonists? how would they describe them? and how does this contrast against how the protagonist views themself?

hi chance!!! i like this question very much hehe so i'm gonna crawl out of my little inactivity cave to answer it for both adriana & the undead and sutton and rockwell's story :) (specifically sutton, for s&r, because rockwell isn't quite as developed yet)

adriana & the undead

adriana is seen as somewhat of a pariah or an outcast by most people she tends to meet (or, at least, she is at first). as one of the only immortals in the world, she tends to draw attention wherever she goes, but because of the nature of her highly unusual circumstances, most people tend to avoid her. to mortals, she is an oddity, borderline subhuman. and the people of tallakeen are not overeager to engage with oddities. most would describe her as a freak, put simply. adriana sees herself in a similar light, whether she's consciously aware of it or not (outwardly, she is a selfish person who only cares about serving herself and couldn't care less about whether she is allowed to be part of society or not), which is why she is seeking a way out of her choice to be immortal. she doesn't truly want to be seen that way by others. she wants to be human again.

sutton & rockwell

sutton is highly desired by most who meet her, both because she is a beautiful and famous woman in a world where beauty and fame is desired, and because she is a vampire who uses her power to attract people (or, as she would refer to them, prey) to her. for many of the more scummy musicians in the rock n roll scene, she is essentially seen as an "achievement"; sleeping with the famous and mysterious groupie sutton quinn is something that will definitely earn you some brownie points in that particular objectifying sphere. but most people's descriptions of her would fall under the category of "confusing." for as famous as she is, the world just can't seem to make sense of her. very few people can say they truly know her—and the few who can say such things are wrong. as for how sutton views herself, she consciously views herself as essentially a goddess (being an immortal creature of the night can have the effect on some people). in her mind, she is the only person truly of consequence. however, beneath that belief, she is lonely. she still sees herself as above humans (to her, humans are mere food sources), but she also craves someone who understands her, because no human truly can.

[missameliep]

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Three: Racing Hearts

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU  Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC) Rating: Teen and Up (there are some swearing) Word count: ~10K

Summary: Hearts are racing faster than the horses at Edgewater. The new day begins and is more eventful than Elizabeth and her friends could have anticipated.

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Luke Harper; Vincent Foredale; Theresa Sutton.

Notes:  * All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. * I want to thank @princess-geek and @noesapphic for being my betas in this chapter. Thank you, girls, you're awesome! * Non-English words at the notes in the end. * Your eyes do not deceive you, after a year without updates, a new chapter dropped. Sorry about the lack of updates, I hope to finish editing the next chapter in the next days. * This is my submission to @choicesjanuarychallenge day 8: Clear | Stormy | Travel.

“Are you telling Hamid?” Briar asked, glancing at Elizabeth lying beside her and staring unblinking at the ceiling.

“I guess that’s not something you just... say...”

“What then? Will you text him?”

“How would I even start a conversation like that through text?”

“Nudes proved to be extremely effective icebreakers.”

Nervously, Elizabeth giggled; not entirely sure her friend was joking.

“I don’t know... If it feels... right, I’ll try to be more assertive next time we’re together...”

“Assertive?” Briar laughed and rolled over to her side, throwing her black hair back and propping her cheek in one hand. “You must flirt back. Be seductive.”

“I have no idea how to do any of that. I’ll embarrass myself if I try.”

“I can teach you.”

“Believe me. I’m unteachable when it comes to these sorts of things,” Elizabeth laughed, remembering her friend Renata’s attempts to get her out of her shell and make a move on one of her first crushes.

“Trust me. My techniques are infallible!” she nudged her friend.

“You sound like a cartoon villain!” she giggled.

“I didn’t hear a no.”

“It’s late. Time to sleep.”

“Can I stay?" Briar curled like a cat nestling over the duvet with her arms around her torso. "I’m so comfortable right now...”

“Sure. But my alarm clock will ring in –” Elizabeth reached the mobile over the nightstand and squinted her eyes to see the time. “– 4 hours.”

“Why?”

“I have to check the horses and the preparations for our picnic before breakfast.”

“Nope... I’m heading out –” Briar rolled out of the bed, put on the slippers and walked to the door. “– But good luck with all of that. Sleep tight.”

“You too.” Elizabeth smiled, going under the duvet while the other closed the door quietly.

As the antique pendulum floor clock at the foyer chimed when the small hand reaches eleven, the soles of the riding boots clicked sharply against the wood when Elizabeth ran down the stairs two steps at a time. Luckily, Lady Dominique was nowhere around to chastise her for such an improper behaviour and remind the rules inside the manor.

The apparent misbehave has a reason: the weather forecast changed, and rainstorms are expected sooner than previous announcements. They must hurry and leave now if they want to go out for a horse ride, have a picnic like planned and be back safely and dry at the manor.

Nevertheless, getting everybody ready is a nearly impossible task. The schedule got delayed by an hour because her friends would not get up at the agreed hour or stop debating in the group chat whether they should or should not go to the pub at Moorfield this evening; even Edmund joined their discussions. Only Hamid remained silent; nobody heard from him since they retreated to their rooms the night before and he vanished from his room early in the morning.

“He will be back in time. Don’t worry, Lizzy,” Briar texted her back, but she can’t help it but worrying.

She wished he had told anyone where he went by himself. The property has many paths through the woods, which can be confusing to those not used to them, and Hamid is the impulsive kind of guy to get too far and lost. Not to mention the boars. If he’s hurt nobody would even know where to start looking for him...

Why am I thinking of all these horrible scenarios?

“That’s ridiculous,” she tells herself. “The universe is not working against me. Right?”

Another message from the group: no news from Hamid, but they are talking about second-breakfast and elevenses now. She deletes the angry cat emoji she was about to send; they are probably messing with her, and she won’t give them the satisfaction.

Finally, she understands why Lady Dominique is so strict about punctuality and is on the verge of forgetting manners and leaving behind whomever is not ready in fifteen minutes… Evidently, she would never be that rude, but the thought crosses her mind anyway.

Dashing into the ground floor while texting Edmund about Hamid’s whereabouts, she collided with a side table on the hallway. Nimbly, she lounged forward; her hands balanced it, and she thanked heavens the white statuette didn’t collapse to the ground. Her grandmother’s wrath is the last thing she needs right now.

“Why so many side tables, grandma? Those are a menace!” she muttered under her breath, tucking the mobile on the coat pocket. Judging by the familiar chuckle, the scene must have been amusing.

“There is a reason your grandmother forbids running inside.”

Whirling around, she met her father standing a few metres away on the hallway coming from the library, a wide teasing grin on his face.

To her surprise, right beside him was Hamid. The sight of him and his ridiculously beautiful face stole her breath and words for a second. Averting her gaze, she focused on her father and what she was supposed to say.

“Would you tell her?” she asked, tilting her head a little bit, and forcing an offended expression.

“It will be our secret,” Vincent stage-whispered. “Mother is yet to forget the incident with the Cordonian crystal apple... It was an irreplaceable gift from late Queen Eleanor.”

“That was not my fault!”

Her father tsked. “Harry used to say the same...”

Smiling, the trio met half-way and she hugged her father, who kissed the top of her head and complimented her elegance sporting the riding attire in navy blue and hair manhandled in one long braid. He looked proud at the sight of Edgewater’s gold crest on her jacket.

Without meeting Hamid’s gaze, she returned his wishes of a good morning and admitted in an almost inaudible tone, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I didn’t know,” he said entirely too pleased.

“You would, if you’ve read my texts...”

Right hand over his chest, he apologised, “Sorry, Liz. The battery died and I didn’t bring the charger...”

“Why didn’t you say so?” she said, taking the mobile from the pocket. “I could’ve lent you my spare one. I’ll text Melinda and ask her to take it to your room.”

Vincent looked amused between them and joined the conversation.

“Do not be mad at him. It is entirely my fault, Eliza. We met by chance, and I insisted he joined me for breakfast. There were some matters I wanted Hamid’s opinions about.”

Her gaze darted from the mobile to her father’s face. “Were you working?”

Hamid laughed at her reproving tone, or possibly at the absurd notion of him working in his free time. “For two seconds. Nothing related to work can compete with more interesting topics of conversation.”

“Poetry and love,” Vincent added, with a grin, trying to appease the curiosity in her eyes. “I wanted to show Hamid a particular book from our collection. It belonged to his namesake.”

“A very interesting tome. I wouldn’t mind taking another look some other time.”

“You are always welcome in our library.”

Observing the exchanges between them and their smiling faces, a warm feeling spread inside of her chest. Her father is always gentle mannered and friendly, mostly due to his personality than his upbringing and lessons to fulfil his duties as the Earl of Edgewater, but there is an undeniable sense of pleasure when he is around Hamid.

“I am glad you were enjoying yourselves...”

“How anyone could not? It’s a privilege to have your father sharing his wise words...”

“Likewise. Our conversations are delightful,” Vincent said and patted Hamid on the shoulder. The other returned the compliment with a sincere smile. “However, I believe I kept you away from your young peers far too long. I am certain Eliza misses your company and will show you a far better time...”

Her cheeks reddened at the words and the knowing smile he directed at her; however, Hamid chose not to acknowledge either with a look or cheeky comment, keeping his attention at the lord, which she was truly grateful for.

“Will you not join us, sir?”

“The last thing you need is some old folk like me following you around and ruining the fun…”

“You would not bother us, dad.”

“You are too kind, my dear. But I have a busy day ahead.”

“It’s Saturday! You promised you’d rest.”

He chuckled at her remark, and it reminded him of when she was much younger and pouted whenever he needed to work during their time together.

“Later,” he said patting her arm. “Now, I am expected at Ledford Park. Enjoy your day and be careful about the rain. The paths become too slippery for the horses.”

“We’ll return before the rain.’’

Using both hands, he cupped her cheek affectionately and kissed the top of her head again.

As soon as the taps of shoe soles faded in the distance, and it was only the two of them, Hamid stepped closer.

“You look gorgeous,” he purred while his hand reached the side of her face, gently curling a long lose curl around his fingers, before tucking it behind her ear. The backs of his fingers softly brushed her skin, causing a hundred butterflies to flutter in her stomach, and moved away. “I told myself you would never look more beautiful than yesterday and yet... You outdid yourself.”

Unnecessary to see her own reflection to know redness was blooming in her face. How she wished to keep her emotions to herself! But a mere touch or a sweet word of his and the rosy of her cheeks give away her emotions, and she hates that about herself. Hamid on the other hand admires exactly that about her: her tongue may not say the words, but the truth emerges each time she blushes. And he dared assume it was not sheer embarrassment of being complimented that pinks her cheeks, but something else entirely.

“Were you actually running after me?” he asked softly, lips stretched in a grin that showed his perfectly lined teeth, expectation glinting in his eyes. “In spite of your grandmother’s prohibition?”

“Actually, I was on my way to check on the others.”

He pouted and his entire face fell in mocking disappointment, and she stuttered.

“Did – Did I say something wrong?”

Smiling, he clicked his tongue and raised his chin in negative, like she learned from the series they watched together is customary in his country and not simply a cute thing he does.

“Your honesty keeps me humble.”

“Oh!” Averting her gaze, she looked downward at her fingers fidgeting with one golden button of her jacket. Before the moment seemed completely over, she forced herself to mumble a simple question, “What if I were?”

“That would heal my wounded ego, and I might say that among many other things, I’d happily take the blame for any bibelot you break. Or, better yet, hide any evidence of its previous existence... Which knowing your grandmother is probably a safer choice.”

She chuckled and looked back at him and how cute he looked with a silly little smile. Perhaps she should’ve let Briar give her a few pointers on being flirty.

“Can you spare a few minutes?” he asked in his most appealing tone, “I was hoping we –”

Before he finished his sentence, voices of their friends echoed from the other hallway and in the blink of an eye they were surrounded by them. Everyone talking at the same time and over each other, inquiring about the picnic and if Briar could ride wearing those high hell boots or not.

“It’s not safe!” Edmund and Annabelle said at once.

“The horse will do the walking, not me,” she insisted.

“Maybe after the picnic?” Hamid whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, one of his warm smiles illuminating his features when she faced him.

“Sure,” she sighed, knowing that between their friends and her family, there wouldn’t be many free moments during the day. Hooking her arm with his, she pleaded, “Now, come and help me. I need to borrow your skills to get everybody out of the house.”

Through the narrowest part of the unpaved path, hooves clopped rhythmically while the horses carried the group onward. With every gust of wind blowing through the crowds of the trees, rained leaves that danced in the air for a beautiful moment before sinking to join the crunchy sunset-coloured blanket covering the ground.

The further they were from the manor, the more the conversations were punctuated by the chirping of birds and more often than not by Briar’s worried remarks.

What started as a little distress at being around horses turned into a quarrel against the animals. Narrowing her eyes at the brown mare Annabelle was riding, Briar’s arms wrapped tightly around Edmund’s waist, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.

“Look at that evil eye!” Briar’s nasal voice resounded from the back of the line, and two of the horses snorted in sequence, swishing their tails. “That beast hates me already… and is telling the others about it!”

Hamid’s silvery voice followed, insisting on explaining the amiable nature of the majestic creatures to no avail.

Smiling, Elizabeth considered how sympathetic he has been with their friend and her fear of horses, despite Briar’s previous threats to kick him in the chin or in a more painful place if a horse bites her.

“I have been around horses long enough to know they can’t talk or plot against you,” Annabelle added, her voice ringing with laughter.

“Wouldn't it be amazing if they could talk?” Hamid mused a recurrent desire of his: since he was a boy, he wished animals could talk to humans, or at least could communicate with him particularly. “I wonder what they would say…”

“Probably they’d complain about ungrateful humans they must carry around on their backs...” Annabelle picked on Briar and this remark earned a formidable string of complaints about her insensitivity...

Luke held a chuckle and gazed at the woman riding by his side on the back of a tan coated thoroughbred mare called Clover, that became her trusted companion in many summer days since she started her equitation lessons at the age of 8, like she told him earlier at the stables.

Today, Elizabeth was quieter than usual, not displeased by the company or the ongoing conversation rather than enraptured by the activity and by seeing the countryside after five long years; besides, like many introverts, she greatly prefers to be surrounded by talkative people who do most of the talking, sparing her the obligation of preventing awkward silences.

“Horses were always my favourites,” he spoke loud enough to be heard by Elizabeth, drawing her attention, “I feel I can understand them...”

She contemplated him for a second and the wide smile curling his full lips, and asked with the most serious tone she could muster, “Luke, are you going to confirm the horses are secretly scheming against Briar?”

Her joke prompted him to chuckle, a soft sound rambling from his chest, and she smiled.

“Hey! Not so loud,” he whispered, failing to keep a serious face. “I sworn secrecy!”

They let out wholehearted laughs, and Elizabeth complimented his riding skills, curious of how a boy raised in a very urban city in the United States could be such an expert around horses.

“Once you spend so much time around horses, you learn a thing or two…”

“How much time are we talking about?”

The question was the cue to Luke tell her about his training in equitation growing up and the prizes earned when he participated in competitions as a teenager that helped him earn a place at the polo team at university.

“Impressive!” she observed. “Maybe we should put your skills to test one of these days… Edgewater breeds some of the finest racehorses in the country.”

He beamed one of those shiny open smiles that crinkle the corners of his green eyes. The suggestion of riding together some other time and of a friendly race was promptly acquiesced, and he was clearly happy.

“A race?” Hamid asked already galloping to approach the two at the front of the group. “That sounds fun!”

“FUN?” Briar cried. “Only if your idea of fun is getting trampled to death by these awful beasts!”

“Don’t worry! Nobody is racing today,” Elizabeth reassured her to no avail. “But we can take the longer path to the ruins and enjoy just a little longer…” She described the track that crossed the meadows in which she used to ride with her brothers and their friends.

The proposition was eagerly accepted by everyone other than Briar. To please her, Edmund suggested they followed the plan and take the shorter route through the woods.

Briar raised a finger to Edmund and said seriously, “Promise me you will not let it dash like a maniac and trample over me!”

The blonde nodded, promising he’d take care of her, and it was enough to appease her. A barely perceptible smirk curled his thin lips when Briar buried her head on his back, hiding her face.

The group eventually parted and after a few minutes, a clearing provided the first glimpse of the ruins standing beyond the meadows peppered by wildflowers.

Hamid’s enthusiastic remarks stole Elizabeth’s attention for a moment. Even though he often says everything is the most beautiful and most extraordinary he’s ever seen, his words were not far from the truth. Despite the grey clouds looming, the countryside could not be more idyllic, and the ruins were impressive. Even considering all the missing parts, like the long-gone stained glasses and fallen tower, their imaginations could rebuild the greatness of the ancient stone building when it was standing tall centuries ago. And for a long moment, that's what they did, while conjecturing about the former inhabitants.

“Some say it’s a magical place...” Annabelle confided, and Hamid couldn’t contain his excitement to learn more about the place while she shared details of an old tale Earl Vincent has told his children countless times.

When a resumed version of the tale reached its end, the horses galloped towards the ruins meandering a field peppered by tiny yellow and white flowers. The hooves clapped against the dirt path, the gentle clip-clop punctuating their conversations, while Elizabeth led the way and Luke remained close, both sharing their tales on equitation classes. Annabelle fell behind, eyes lost in contemplation; and Hamid’s were suddenly inundated by mischief.

The tranquillity of the ride didn’t last long. The sharp sound of hooves resonated when Hamid’s horse trotted increasingly faster past them. The horse’s mane and tail undulated with the wind while they distanced. A flock of birds flew away not without sharp piercing noises that sounded like reprimands against the rude behaviour of the four-legged beast and the noisy human on its back, disturbing the peace in their haven.

Dark hair tousled by the wind and grinning, he announced he’d be the first to arrive at the ruins and defied his friends to join him.

“Come on!” he cried over his shoulders, “It’s fun!”

Annabelle was quick in following his invitation and trotted past Luke and Elizabeth, who smiled at their merriment. When she considered joining them, a loud gasp escaped her mouth. In shock, she watched the scene unfolding. Less experienced and unfamiliar with the route, Hamid misled the horse, missing a curve many metres ahead. His body swayed in the saddle, almost slipping, and her heart skipped a beat. At full speed, the horse galloped, crossing the tall grass, and reaching another path at the opposite direction that would take them back to the woods.

All the previous feelings that troubled her mind came racing back. At that speed, either Hamid, the horse or both would get injured due to the many obstacles, like roots and ditches.

Swiftly, Luke guided his horse to the same direction, quickly gaining speed; and a moment after Elizabeth and Annabelle followed his lead.

Horse and its rider disappeared for a moment, and the next time Elizabeth had a glimpse of them, Luke was getting closer. Despite the adrenaline, his words to Hamid seemed calm. Parts of the instructions to slow the horse echoed in the field.

Thrill running through her veins, Elizabeth’s heart raced at the same rhythm of Clover’s hooves hitting the ground while she followed them. The horses left a cloud of dusty in their awake and Elizabeth bowed and squinted her eyes, trusting Clover would find the way to Hamid.

When her eyes opened again, Luke had managed to slow Hamid’s horse before reaching too deep into the woods. Anxiously, she dismounted Clover. Adrenaline high in her system, she ran the remaining metres to where the horses had stopped, and Luke was helping Hamid dismount.

“Is he...?” Elizabeth breathlessly asked Luke, and he nodded.

“He’s fine.”

Her eyes inspected Hamid from the top of his head to his feet, as if still trying to convince herself he was perfectly fine. She inhaled deeply and tried to calm herself.

Growing up, she got used to the thrill of races through this fields and woods and all sorts of shenanigans with her brothers and their friends, pretending to be part of the group of heroes that fought the Shadow Court; somehow, this right now felt completely different. Maybe she was way more out of practice than she thought, considering the last time she rode a horse. Maybe the years made her fearful and cured her of the past recklessness. Maybe she has grown into one of those nagging adults that spoiled everybody’s fun.

“This time you can’t deny it!” Hamid grinned and said out of breath, “You were running after me!”

“You joke?!”

“I see you are alright!” Annabelle laughed behind Elizabeth, having dismounted the horse, and joined the group of riders, under an immense oak tree.

“Have you seen how fast I was?” he directed his question to her, too excited.

“I certainly did. And I imagine how sore you’ll be later.”

“It’s not as... comfortable as my Suzuki... I admit. But it was so fast! This horse is... extraordinary!” he panted. His enthusiasm cut by loud exhales and breathed laughs.

Relief had washed over her companions at the sight of the unharmed Hamid, however, Elizabeth’s jaw tightened and her whole body shivered.

“If you haven’t noticed, we were running to prevent you from hurting yourself! There’s nothing funny about it!”

“My heroes.”

The smile he flashed, didn’t ease her frown.

How could he not take his own safety seriously?

“You said you knew how to ride...”

“I may have overestimated my skills... it seems... and perhaps my expertise with a different kind of horsepower was not immediately transferred…” he said, and this could be a reference to any of the vehicles and dangerous activities he enjoys in his free time. Leaning against the trunk of the oak tree, he tried to catch his breath, and failed to plaster a more relaxed expression. “But I’m a fast learner. Give me one more minute, and I’m ready to try again. I challenge you all to another race to the ruins.”

Heart thumping in her ears and knees risking buckling, Elizabeth crossed the remaining distance to him, who steadied himself against the trunk with an arm, pretending it was just to look cooler, which nobody would buy by now, not even her.

“Seriously?” she fumed. “You could get seriously hurt!” 

“I didn’t.”

His unconcerned manners remained undeterred by reason, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

In a voice as sweet as possible considering his current shortness of breath, he called her name, and leaned forward.

Raising one index finger, she stopped the predictable move of his hand before it touched her inflamed cheek.

“Dude, you couldn’t control the horse... if not for Luke...” Elizabeth trailed off, not daring say the alternatives out loud. All at once, it dawned on her the warnings the adults uttered back when she was a kid. That same uneasiness stormed, and her stomach was churning at the thought of any of those horrible things happening to Hamid.

Judging by the quizzical look in Hamid’s face, he couldn’t understand the distress in her voice nor why she was taking the incident this seriously. Nothing happened after all, which he regretted telling her once her eyes were alight like his mother’s whenever he does the opposite of what she expects from him – but he refrained from saying that.

“Liz,” he asked softly, trying his best to sound less confused than he was, “was it any different from the stories you and Edmund shared? You seemed amused sharing your shenanigans...”

“Yes, it’s completely different! First, we were kids and... –” didn’t know any better what this kind of absence felt like! “– Second, we knew these paths like the backs of our hands. Third, we had advanced lessons! Unlike you!” The emotions bubbling inside caused her voice to raise to a higher pitch and waver like the crowns of the trees dancing with the breeze. “Your self-confidence can get you hurt. Or killed. Just look what this kind of stuff does to people much more skilled than you! You must be responsible for your safety! What if Luke couldn’t reach you? Think about the people you’ll hurt... God!” She let out an exasperated sigh and covered her face with her hands; bowing his head, Hamid stepped back, trying to collect his thoughts after her outburst.

Annabelle’s footsteps on the dirty were loud enough not to be ignored. When she approached and stood between them, her presence interrupted whatever would follow this exchange.

“Fortunately, nobody got hurt, and we’re halfway to the ruins. So, can we get going? I’m starving!”

“Of course.” Elizabeth dusted off her clothes and adjusted the jacket, returning to the composed self everybody is used to, at least in the outside.

Walking away with Annabelle, she didn’t look back, but she felt Hamid's stare following her.

With a sympathetic smile, Luke patted Hamid on the back and asked if he was sure he could go on, and he nodded, still looking confused by Elizabeth’s reaction. Apparently the only one who didn't anticipate the coming storm.

When the group reached the ruins, the cloud in Elizabeth’s eyes had dissipated, but she couldn’t shy away the dreadful thoughts racing in her mind. Therefore, she welcomed the interruption when a middle-aged man with a pristine white uniform and the emblem of Edgewater walked in her direction, addressing her with the due ceremony and respect reserved to noblewomen like herself. For once, she felt too tired to oppose the ritual and kindly asked him to lead the way to the picnic setting.

In a clearing beside the ruins, four large picnic blankets had been settled over the grass with at least a dozen matching throw pillows; from two picnic baskets peeked bottles of lemonade and other colourful beverages, and exquisite food had been arranged all over the blankets, ranging from apple pie to different kinds of pastries, fresh fruits, jam, and sandwiches. The sight made her mouth water.

With the conformation everything was perfectly assembled, and settled the time of their return to disassemble the setting, the man left, making his way to a black van where another employee was waiting.

The four friends gathered around the food – and inevitably talked about the absent two.

“Should we text them?” Elizabeth asked, “See if they are alright?”

“They’re probably more than alright, and that’s the matter,” Annabelle muttered under her breath, and started typing in her mobile. “I’m texting we’ll start eating without them. That will get Briar’s attention.”

No reply came to this or any of the texts and pictures of the picnic, and the group comfortably settled down. Elizabeth watched Hamid stretching before easing into one of the large pillows on her left; she averted her eyes when he noticed the attention, focused on cleaning her hand with a wet wipe.

Several minutes later, a clip-clop announced the last horse’s arrival. Something that looked too much like disappointment was evident in Briar’s face. One hour ago, not a soul would expect her to wish to extend any stroll that involved the company of horses.

Annabelle and Elizabeth shared a knowing look, and no words were necessary to convey what they thought of that.

Edmund’s hands wrapped around Briar’s waist tentatively, and with a swift motion he brought her to the ground safe and sound; she thanked him with a lingering kiss on his cheek, that turned his skin as red as the colour of her lipstick, and reluctantly they parted. Edmund clucked his tongue and guided the horse to a tree next to the others, while Briar walked in the opposite direction, throwing glances over her shoulder.

Once the party was complete, it was time to truly enjoy the picnic. The sight of the food and setting was enough to rekindle Briar's cheerfulness.

“I remember this place from the series,” Briar pointed out. “The duel was shot right there, wasn’t it?”

Beside her, Edmund confirmed, indicating a small totem like the ones seen at museums, that contains the story of the building, and pointed at the place where the Ottoman Prince was shot.

“So romantic!” she sighed, lying on her side over a few cushions. “That scene left me breathless. Can you imagine having someone loving you that much? Risking their own life for you?” Theatrically, the back of one hand pressed against her forehead and she let out a dramatic sigh.

“Aside the fact the duel was based on misogynistic premises and claims over a fully-grown and rational human being, I won’t deny that it must have been exciting to see it all unfold!”

“It would’ve been perfect if the prince didn’t miss the shot.”

“Don’t forget the pistol had been tampered,” Edmund said, a little bit too enthusiastic to share his knowledge about the matter. “He didn’t stand a chance and was truly lucky the duke was such a bad shot and let him walk out with such a minor injury.”

“A duel is such a stupid stupid idea,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath and shoved the remaining of the sandwich inside her mouth.

The others looked at her with a mix of amusement and surprise.

“Don’t you find the idea of going to a secluded place with your nemesis and shooting them dead at dawn appealing?” Annabelle teased, “Of all people, I thought you would have the longest list of candidates...”

“God, no! Violence is not the answer to everything!”

“Sometimes it’s necessary,” Annabelle retorted. “Nonviolent resistance is poetic, but pointless when your enemy is determined to crush you or has a literal gun pointed at you... for instance, you don’t fight fascists with flowers or hugs.”

“I can see your point... But in their case, the entire thing was pointless! The prince was shot for nothing! The engagement went on for weeks after the duel and he could have died,” Elizabeth stressed the last word. “There were no antibiotics back then! If he died... she’d be alone... and Clara had just lost her mother and father... Can you imagine how scared and lonely she must have felt? The uncertainty?” her last words were barely audible, strained by the tightness in her throat and chest.

Breaking the silence, Luke remarked, “I thought you never watched the series.”

“I got curious...”

“I told you it was amazing!” Briar cried, pulling herself back to a sitting position. “We should watch together!”

“I agree violence rarely solves anything and usually brings more trouble,” Hamid mused, possibly referring to his own line of work. “But human nature is complex and even the best of us can make bad decisions moved by less than noble feelings.”

“Can you imagine how absolutely mad at that wanker the prince should’ve been at that point?” Annabelle asked, “The man was known for being a pacifist –”

“Not very pacifist, considering he was cool with putting a bullet through that other guy’s head,” Luke added.

“As if you wouldn’t!” Briar taunted.

“I don’t think I would! That’s not one of the cases violence would be justified...”

“I think you all would,” Briar pointed at each of her friends, “if you were in the prince’s shoes... even you, Lizzy, if that meant you could save someone you loved.”

“There are other options... More civilized.”

“Maybe there weren’t!”

“They could have eloped. Or left together to the Ottoman Empire or anywhere else...”

“Fleeing?” Briar grimaced. “Countess Clara was a strong woman; she would never run away without fighting!”

“That’s true. And you need to remember it was a different world back then,” Edmund re-joined the conversation, “they didn’t have games to settle their differences by blowing each other’s heads off safely... which is much healthier in my opinion. However, if you read Countess Clara’s journal, you’ll understand their reasons and the importance of the duel and how it sealed their bond...”

“That sounds romantic!” Briar clapped her hands and scooted closer. “Tell me more!”

Soon, the conversation changed and new topics more and less controversial followed.

At some point, Annabelle had grabbed a pencil and her sketchbook from her bag and sat over a boulder, looking pensive at the group and their simultaneous conversations.

Noticing it, Elizabeth excused herself and sat beside her.

“What are you drawing?”

“Just sketching...” Annabelle handed the sketchbook to her, who examined the various partial sketches of faces of their group, including herself.

A wistful smile replaced the blank expression in Annabelle’s face, and she sighed. 

“I used to come here with Harry all the time... and the twins. That tree was Juliette’s balcony. Harry fell on his bottoms trying to climb it after me and got furious because I couldn’t stop laughing... He blamed me for not taking my role seriously and that Juliette would never laugh at Romeo – which made me laugh even harder.”

“That sounds just like him...”

A strained laugh that turned into a sob escaped Annabelle's mouth, and she used the back of her hands to wipe some tears pooling in her hazel eyes.

“Sorry... If I knew what this place meant to you, I’d have picked some place else…” Elizabeth apologised, but the other smiled.

“Hey! Don’t you worry. I need new happy memories. And I can always use some practice.”

They sat in silence, while Annabelle resumed sketching the tower.

“I wish I could draw like that...”

“I can teach you, if you like,” Annabelle nudged her.

“I’ll take you up on that someday...” Elizabeth smiled, looking at the way she focused on the architectural details. “How long does it take you to paint someone’s portrait?”

“It depends on size, complexity of pose and background, things like that...” Excitedly, she practically bounced in place. “Do you wish me to paint yours? I already have so many ideas! Two words: flower crown!”

“Actually, I had someone else’s portrait in mind...”

Judging by the way she smiled, Annabelle already knew the answer to the question, but she asked anyway, “Whose portrait?”

Elizabeth fidgeted with one gold button of her jacket, and said softly, “Hamid’s birthday is in December… I was thinking he would enjoy an original Parsons...”

“It’s perfectly doable.”

“Do you think it’s too much to gift a friend?”

Annabelle shook her head, her ponytail moving from side to side. “There’s no such a thing. Art is a thoughtful gift, and you are a thoughtful person.” She paused and looked back at her friend. “And you care about him. That’s why you were so worked up before, right?”

Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest and bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed, “Why is he such a… frigging reckless idiot?”

Annabelle laughed, “I think the polite word is ‘spontaneous’.”

“You know what I mean. It’s stupid to put himself in danger like that…”

“Where you see danger, some people see exciting opportunities to experience life. This kind of thrill can be good to the soul.” 

“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?” the pitch of her voice raised slightly in the last word, conveying the outrage at the self-accusation.

“What if you were? Is that a bad thing? Nobody can be reasonable all the time. That’s how feelings work, isn’t it?” Annabelle nudged her side, and she caved, “I guess…”

Looking away at the horizon where leaden-coloured clouds in their endless swirls engulfed the hills, she fidgeted with one golden button. “Do you think I messed things up?”

“I’m not the one you should ask that question.” Annabelle tilted her head and raised her eyebrows indicating where Hamid and Luke were standing and engaged in an animated conversation.

For the first time in hours, she didn’t avert her gaze when Hamid noticed it, which seemed to encourage him to walk in their direction followed by Luke, both still talking enthusiastically. Their voices growing closer. When they arrived, Elizabeth’s shoulders tensed, and she only listened while Annabelle and Hamid talked about art.

Inspired by the light and wind, Annabelle asked Luke to pose mounting one of the horses, and she took many pictures with the mobile.

“For reference,” she explained to Hamid, who was curious about the concept.

A few moments later, the employees from Edgewater returned and Elizabeth exchanged a few words with them. With everyone minding their own businesses, Briar and Edmund took the opportunity to slip together to explore the ruins and Elizabeth decided to take a walk by herself, working on the lines of a possible dialogue with Hamid later.

A gentle tap on her shoulder caught her attention. A familiar presence standing behind her.

“Can we talk or are you still mad at me?” Hamid asked when she turned around to face him.

“I was not mad!”

Tilting his head, he simply smiled and gave her a knowing look. That look she’s so familiar by now and means he’s not buying it.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she didn’t back down, “I was reasonably explaining why you can’t do this sort of risky thing!”

“Then if you’re not mad, why are you still making that face every time you look at me?” He mockingly imitated her expression, narrowing his deep brown eyes and pressing his lips together in a thin line that curled downward in the edges.

“I don’t look like that!” she huffed, trying to keep a serious expression, too self-conscious of the way lines had definitely been creasing the area between her eyebrows.

“Of course not. Yours is angrier, but cuter. Like the angriest tiny kitten that you should fear but want to cuddle...”

She huffed again, “I don’t like when you do that.”

“Compliment your cuteness?”

“Say I’m tiny...” she snorted, “It’s rude!”

“Seriously? That’s what you’ve chosen to pick on what I said, Liz?” he asked getting cautiously closer. “Am I upsetting you? Do you want me to leave?”

“No...” she mumbled and dared look him in the eye. Biting the inside of one cheek, she was feeling too embarrassed and uncomfortable with this exchange. It was the opposite of what she had been rehearsing in her mind.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Or overstep. You’re a grown man and you can do whatever... risky and stupid thing you want… But... as your friend… I needed to warn you and –”

“You worry about me,” Hamid interrupted, saying the words she couldn’t. Welcomed by the way he smiled so openly, not a hint of judgement in his eyes, she nodded.

“I get it, and I appreciate it. I’m not used to people outside my family worrying about me.”

“Are we... okay?”

“Always.”

Smiling, he bent the arm closer to her, and with a flourish offered the crook of his elbow. “May I join your walk, my lady?”

“Are you back to your prince’s character?”

Gazing at her eyes, he said softly, “Today, I prefer that we simply be Hamid and Elizabeth, if you don’t mind.”

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered and tried to escape through her mouth, and she could barely answer him with a soft “Not at all.”

She linked her arm with his, and he took her hand and adjusted it in the crook of his elbow. Even after it was right in place, his hand remained over hers. Elizabeth had no intention in addressing the matter or ask him to remove it, on the contrary. The warmness of his hand spread and reached her chest and cheeks. It was always wonderful to enjoy the feeling of his soft and warm skin against hers, and his face transpired a similar enjoyment.

In comfortable silence they walked down a path framed by ancient oaks, distancing from the ruins and the place everyone else was. It was easy to forget the world in moments like these.

The wind blowing more insistently kept sweeping his hair until his hair products gave up, and she smiled at how messy and cute it became.

“Look at that!” he laughed, pointing at a flock of magpies in one of the trees.

Slowing their pace, they recited the nursery rhyme together pointing at each bird on the branches.

“And seven for a secret, never to be told,” she said looking at him, the lilt of her laughter and a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“Nine! There’s definitely nine!”

“Really?”

“You missed two that flew away.” Hamid pointed at the grey skies and recited the remaining verses like she taught him in the park, “Eight for a wish and nine for a kiss. How fortunate!”

“So, there will be a kiss in your future...”

“Our future,” he stressed the word.

“You saw nine,” she corrected with humour, “I did not...”

“Oh! In this case I must share my good fortune with you.”

He winked for good measure and red bloomed in her cheeks.  

“Oh! How kind of you!” she teased but looked away, when he chuckled. Her heart thumping louder and faster against its cage. Forcing herself to look back at him and meet his gaze and amused grin, she saw an opportunity; her next words slipped from her lips in a lower but steady voice, “I wonder why you would be so kind to me...”

His lips uncurled and there was no laughter this time. Positioning himself in front of her, Hamid took both her hands in his, not minding how cold and moist they were.

“Do I really need to explain myself?” Bowing his head, he smiled; and she looked up. His dark brown eyes sparkled despite the sunlight barely succeeding in breaking through a sea of dark clouds. “I wanted to kiss you since we met. The only question is: do you want me to or not?”

To be honest, she has wanted to kiss him for most of the time they have known each other, and not in a friendly way.

With anticipation, her lips rolled inside her mouth and her tongue moistened them, like it did other times. His hooded eyes stared at her lips, making her heart race. However, her doubts glued her in place, preventing her from closing that gap that decreased with each short intake of breath.

Her throat became as dry as when she walked through the Atacama that vacation long ago. She could drink an entire bottle now, or maybe it was time to simply get drunk of him, ignoring that little voice inside of her head that sounds too much like her grandmother these days and let her future self worry about everything else. 

Alas that was a thing she could do...

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and focused on the soothing motion of his thumbs stroking the backs of her hands.

“After what you said... at your flat... I... I was under the impression you would rather kiss someone else...”

His lips parted while he tried to recall the conversation she mentioned. “Someone else?” Hamid asked, his confusion frowning his brow. “I wonder what I could’ve possibly said that has led you to this conclusion, Liz...”

While she collected her thoughts, a sharp cry cut the air and a noisy flock of birds flew away, startling them. A wail impossible to ignore irrupted from the ruins.

They looked at each other and mumbled at the same time, “Briar.”

This was the cue for them to run. Holding hands, they sprinted to the entrance of the collapsed building just as a wide-eyed Edmund exited carrying Briar bride-style.

“What happened?”

“She fell. I – I think she sprained an ankle,” Edmund cried, and Luke examined the bare foot.

“It hurts.” Briar moaned and pressed the black heeled boot she was holding tight against her chest.

“I’ll take her home and call Dr. Collins.”

“The van,” Elizabeth cried and pointed at the vehicle, “It’s faster.”

Edmund nodded and changed direction, dashing to the vehicle in a surprising speed.

“What if she broke a bone?” Annabelle asked.

“Maybe she should go to the hospital...” Hamid pondered, and they all agreed.

“There’s not enough room for everyone...” Luke inspected the back of the van filled with items from the picnic and no seats available.

“Who will go with her?” Hamid said, looking between Briar and Elizabeth for directions, but the first wasn’t looking at him and the latter didn’t answer. Elizabeth’s entire body stiffened, the hospital was the last place she could go now, and she hoped Annabelle or Luke would offer to go instead.

While easing Briar into the passenger seat, Edmund didn’t wait for the deliberation and said he’d go. “As soon as we have news, I’ll call you.”

Leaning against the passenger window, Annabelle looked seriously at Briar. “I will refrain from telling you now heels were a terrible decision until we know how serious your injury is!”

Despite the pain, Briar snorted and hugged Annabelle.

“Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!”

Edmund took a seat beside her and, immediately, her head leaned on his shoulder, and he encircled her with one arm.

As the man in white closed the door and started the engine, Elizabeth stared at the van moving away, wondering if she should’ve suggested that someone else accompanied Briar instead of Edmund. Moorfield is a small city and a visit to the hospital from a member of one of the most illustrious families in the region with a woman who is not his fianceé might cause a fuss.

“Don’t worry, Liz.” Hamid placed a comforting hand on her back, meeting her eyes with an encouraging smile. “Briar will be alright.”

“Will she really?” Elizabeth murmured still observing the van disappearing beside the trees.

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry, I'm just thinking out loud...”

He leaned closer and whispered, “He likes her.”

Of course, he knows. It shouldn’t surprise her. Besides, Briar and Edmund were not discreet or concerned in hiding their mutual interest this weekend.

“It’s easy to recognize the look on the face of a man in love...” 

“Love?” Elizabeth echoed with a grimace, her eyes darting to his face. “They've seen each other a handful of times!”

“Don’t give me that look!” He chuckled and one of his fingers gently tapped the tip of her nose. Her nose and eyes scrunched, and she made one of the adorable faces he never gets tired.

“There’s no rule. Some people need time, others simply know...”

“Oh, please! It’s not always about love,” she protested, knowing that there are several other feelings that could be involved.

His shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let them drop with a wistful smile. “What can I say, canım benim[1]? I’m a romantic.”

“You and Briar are the same,” she snorted, “Throwing the L-word around… saying people who barely know each other are in love…” 

“Who else Briar thinks is in love and barely know each other?”

She gasped, “I never said that!”

Turning around, Elizabeth fished her mobile inside her pocket and pretended to read some “urgent notification”, like she told him, staring at the screen for a long moment until the faint smell of the first drops quenching the soil somewhere near the horizon reached her nostrils and reminded her of the incoming rainstorm.

A quarter after 3pm, the five horses and the four riders arrived safe and dry at the stables. The animals were left at the care of Mr. Walton and his industrious hands, and the four friends walked out cheering but were beaten by the storm in their race back to the manor.

The wind slammed a door, threatened to flip inside out the umbrellas Elizabeth and Luke carried and roused the crowns of trees at the main pathway, inviting them to an eerie dance.

The grey skies tumbled, afternoon turning into night. Cascading cold water washed over and the temperature dropped several degrees, or so it felt after every gush of wind.

The cold, however, didn’t deter the two who declined the umbrellas offered. Laughing and kicking and splashing the water running like a river at their feet, tilting their faces up and sticking their tongues out, they welcomed the drops as the most precious gift of nature.

Elizabeth will never question the benefits of rain. However, given the option she’ll always pick warm sunny days over rainy ones whenever she’s outside and the umbrella cannot protect her against the lashing cold drops.

The longer they stay outside, the more her pants got drenched and her lips quivered; fortunately, the terrace’s steps came to view. Just a few more metres. When she got to dry land with Luke, she dared looking back at the others.

In the pouring rain, arms stretched to the fullest, Hamid and Annabelle held each other’s hands swirling and laughing like it was the first time they were seeing rain.

Her ponytail was stuck to the neck, while locks of his black hair were glued to the forehead and sides of his face.

“I can’t remember the last time I played in the rain!” Annabelle cried, speaking louder than the pitter-patter of the rain against the roof, when they came running to the terrace laughing.

Elizabeth cannot remember either. The last she voluntarily stayed outside in the rain must have been when she was a kid and definitely before her mother got sick. After that, she became increasingly cautious about her own health: eating fruits and vegetables, taking vitamins, avoiding rain and dangerous activities and, most important, she’d do everything possible not to get sick, because she couldn’t afford being unwell and burden her mother. Later, whenever her mother’s health decreased and she needed to be cared, Elizabeth couldn’t bare the idea of doing something stupid and selfish and letting her down... That was the main reason she rarely travelled by herself for longer than a few days; or why she avoided drinking entirely. Except for that one time at seventeen when the prognostic was bad and her mother stayed over a month at the hospital, and she got so utterly sloshed with cheap wine with her friend Renata, she barely remembers anything that happened that weekend and how they came back home from the clubs; even the hangover that lasted an entire day and caused her to miss school at Monday was welcomed. It was good to feel something other than despondent for a change, even if it were the queasiness in her stomach and the obnoxious headache that pounded like a tambourine inside of her head.

Hamid asked something, interrupting her thoughts.

Her brain barely processed the question, and she looked at his eyes closer than anticipated, trying to find out if she missed a long bit of a conversation. Luke and Annabelle were not around anymore.

How long was she silently staring at the rain?

“Are you alright?” The neutral tone didn’t match the concern in his eyes.

How long was she silently staring at the rain?

“Just cold.” To be more convincing, she hugged herself tighter to keep warm, and a tight-lipped smile curled the corners of her lips without reaching her eyes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? The rain makes everything more poetic.”

“Does it?” she asked. “I can think of a million ways the rain makes everything worse: traffic gets slower, drives us out of the beach during summer, turns everything sad and grey and wet and cold… and makes people sick. And I have a tight schedule. I can’t get sick! So, no, I don’t think it’s poetic.”

“Again, you are being too pragmatic.”

“Or are you being too much of a romantic?”

“I can’t deny that.”

A bright smile in his face, he leaned closer, making sure the wet coat hanging from his arm didn’t drip all over her. Despite the coat being impermeable, the rain had seeped through the collar and darkened his blue jumper, and her eyes followed the droplets still dripping from his hair, running down his face and soaking the fabric.

“But what about how beautiful the world looks? The way puddles reflect the light and façades of buildings? Or the thrill of dancing in the rain?”

“Dancing?” She shook her head. “It only works in movies...”

Slinging his arm over Elizabeth’s shoulders, droplets of water from his hair dripped and ran down his face and peppered her jacket. Too close to her ear, Hamid said, “If you’d give it a try, it’d change your mind. It’s the kind of refreshing experience that reminds how amazing it is to be alive! I’ll happily join you if you wish to try...”

“You know what would truly make me feel amazing right now?” she asked looking up at his face and meeting his eyes.

“Please do tell,” he purred, “especially if it’s something I can provide.”

“Dry clothes and warm chocolate.”

Briar returned from the hospital in time to have one mug of hot chocolate before the two-thermos bottles were completely emptied. A minor injury that resulted in zero broken bones, she told them, but ruined her plans to go out tonight.

“The bad news is I can’t go out with you, guys tonight…” she lamented, “It’s so unfair! I brought the cutest costume to wear tonight.”

To make her feel better, Edmund was catering to her every need, which included an icebag for her ankle, pain medication, a raspberry scone, and the first volume of the published journals of Countess Clara.

“We should stay in, anyway,” Annabelle suggested, “Anything we would do there, we can do here.”

“And in better company,” Hamid added with a charming smile.

While Elizabeth, Annabelle, Hamid, and Luke played another round of Just Dance, Briar had skipped most of the entries of the journal and went straight to the ones about the duel. Reading the most interesting parts aloud, she often stole the competitors' concentration... and was influencing the scores – whether it was on purpose or not, one could only suppose.

“Oh, my God!” Briar gasped. “This is sooo good!”

When nobody asked a follow-up question, she teased some more in a louder sing-a-song voice.

“I know why Lady Clara was so fond of the ruins!”

“You got to that part?” Edmund asked without raising his eyes, too focused on the task of rubbing anti-inflammatory gel on her injured foot.

“Which part?” Elizabeth asked, missing precious points while Hamid nailed all the moves.

“The saucy part!” Briar giggled. “The prince was smooth! Using that last night on earth line on her… Girl dropped her panties like that!” Briar snapped her fingers, then flipped a page. “Listen to this: ‘The moonlight illuminated Hamid’s features while he slowly removed his cape, then his kaftan. My gaze devoured every bit of skin uncovered, and my hand ached to touch him…’ Is it hot in here?” She fanned herself dramatically and Edmund handed her a glass of water.

The game couldn’t compete with the curiosity stirred by the descriptive details of the prince’s physique that followed and after forty-five minutes of uninterrupted dance, some of the players needed a break.

“That lady got dicked down good!” Briar let Hamid read over her shoulder the next paragraphs. “Outdoors pre-marital sex with a hot guy she was not engaged to in 1816: lady was living the life! I stan!”

When she finished reading the parts aloud, Luke, who had plopped in an armchair closer to the windows and observed the rain, asked, “Can we play something else?”

“Why?” Hamid asked. “This is so fun!”

“Only because you don’t suck at it...” Annabelle teased, nudging his side.

“Don’t come at me if you can’t keep up with my moves,” he retorted pulling an intricate combination of steps, she rolled her eyes and they laughed good-naturedly.

“I could use a break...” Elizabeth admitted taking a seat.

“Maybe another round of CoD?” Edmund suggested, and Briar looked puzzled.

“Call of Duty? The combat game?”

“Yes, please,” Briar said, “I don’t know how to play, but I want to kill zombies too!”

“Of course, darling. Hamid can sit this one out, he sucks anyway!”

“Hey,” Hamid protested. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t see the point on blowing anyone’s head off…”

“They’re zombies! Stop making poor excuses,” Annabelle teased.

“Why don’t we play the real zombie game!” Elizabeth said already fumbling inside the box. “Wake the Dead is so good! In the multiplayer we can kill all sorts of zombies.”

While they were preparing for the next game, Annabelle excused herself to go to the lavatory, and Elizabeth heard voices in the corridor.

“Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear a thing...” Luke shrugged, while texting.

“It sounded like Theresa’s laugh.”

“Very funny,” Edmund retorted, throwing his stepsister a dirty look.

“I’m not joking.”

“There’s someone outside,” Hamid said, and as if on cue, Theresa’s nasal voice was unmistakable heard through the walls. Instantly, Briar pulled her legs and Edmund bolted upright from his spot on the sofa.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked in a low tone, while rubbing his menthol-scented hands against his trousers, and Elizabeth shrugged.

“Your fiancee, dude... If anybody should know...”

Muttered a string of swearing under his breath, Edmund picked his mobile from a side table and there were seven missed calls from Theresa and an even larger number of messages that he ignored the entire day.

“Bullocks.”

An employee brought a tray with refreshments and announced Theresa’s arrival. The woman could no longer be ignored.

She politely greeted everyone with air kisses.

“Are you happy I came, Edmund?” Theresa asked with a wide smile. Edmund’s eyes squinted when she kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving a lipstick mark that she wiped with her thumb. “Your mother said you would!”

“Did she?”

“Oh! She did! She said: ‘Theresa, go to Edgewater immediately.’” She tried to mimic the countess’ voice, but it was just a lower-pitched version of her own voice. “I asked why and she said ‘because Edmund needs you by his side’ but I said I was busy with Felicity and I was going to do my hair... but she insisted, 'Pack your things now or don’t even bother coming anymore!’ The Countess is funny, I think. But I don’t get her humour sometimes…” She shook her head and grinned at the group. “What are you doing?”

“Playing video-games,” Elizabeth said lifting the controller in her hand. “Do you want to play?”

Clapping her hands, she squealed, “Yes! I do! Edmund never lets me play... Can I?” She looked at him pleadingly and he sighed. Before he could give up his controller, Elizabeth offered hers.

“Here, Theresa. You can play, I'll sit this one out.”

“That’s so kind of you, Elizabeth. Thank you.”

“You’re letting him play with his fiancé and Briar?” Hamid whispered, looking at the women sitting at both of his sides. “You’re devious.”

“I’m not!” She elbowed him. “And I’m not responsible for this situation…”

“It’ll be interesting to watch how it unfolds…”

“Indeed.” Annabelle slung her arms around Hamid and Elizabeth’s shoulders. “And you know what could make it even more interesting?” she asked, but it was simply rhetoric. “Drinking games!”

“I love drinking games!” Theresa and Briar cheered from their places at the sofa, and Annabelle couldn’t be more pleased with herself.

“Correction,” Hamid glanced at her with a sly smile, “you’re the devious one.”

----------------------------------------------

Notes:

[1] canım benim – Turkish expression equivalent to “my dear/my darling” and meaning literally “my soul”.

[viral-news1]

Chargers use 2nd-half surge to rally past Broncos, boost playoff position in AFC

[wanderingsoul6261]

I'm Sorry

credit for gif goes to userbeaufort

James Beaufort x Reader

synopsis: Y/N doesn't come from a rich family, but is close friends with Lydia, but absolutely despises James. She eventually comes to terms with her thoughts and makes amends with James. Was it worth it in the end though?

warning: just a few swear words.

should there be a part 2 to this?

Y/N wasn’t quite sure how she had come to hate James. She just knew that she did, regardless if he was Lydia’s twin brother or not. Maybe it was his arrogance, although it didn’t make much sense to her after some thinking, as most of the students at Maxton were of the arrogant type. She had previously thought about hating him for who his father is, but she also knew how their father treated them and knew that it probably was not a reason to judge or even hate James for. In the end, she had just thought him to be an asshole, and figured that that was enough reason not to like him, because he was an asshole. 

With this in mind, Y/N never treated him fairly, but to be fair, he never did the same for her either, as he hated her just as much as she had hated him. The two were never particularly nasty to each other, but they definitely weren’t nice to each other. 

If they ran into each other in the hallways of Maxton Hall, they scowled at each other, sometimes even flipping each other the finger. They would have small arguments here and there, mostly about what they thought of each other, or what they had assumed that they thought of each other. The two of them believed what they wanted to when it came to the other person, only because they wanted to fuel their hatred for the other. 

Lydia had kind of almost found it funny and amusing. She knew that the two of them technically had no reason to hate each other, but still did. Maybe they didn’t like sharing her. Lydia had always snorted when that thought appeared in her mind, but she thought that that wasn’t quite it. In the end, Lydia herself couldn’t come up with a logical reason that they couldn’t as to why they hated each other. 

They hated each other with no rhyme or reason and that was that. 

However, it was only a matter of time before Y/N started to rescind her hatred for James. After spending so much time with Lydia, Y/N had gotten the chance to know about James and why he was the way that he was. Lydia told her stories about what they would do as kids, and how over the years, the two had managed to stick up for each other. It didn’t matter the situation. Whether it was familial ties or Lydia’s situation with Sutton. The Beaufort twins had each other's back. 

Y/N had paid some mind to the stories, but it wasn;t until she started to experience the softer side of James that she finally agreed with Lydia that maybe James wasn’t all that bad. 

Y/N had visited the Beaufort manor enough to see Lydia to begin to see what she was talking about. Unless Mortimer was around, James had pretty much become his own self. At Maxton he worked to uphold his image and keep it. At home, he could relax. Y/N watched the interactions between the two twins and enjoyed seeing them in their best moments. Although they didn’t laugh much, short chuckles were heard and smiles were given. 

Just once, She could have sworn that as James smiled at some boring joke his sister made over dinner, his eyes glanced over at her. Maybe she had just imagined it, but what she didn’t imagine was the flutter in her stomach at the thought of it. 

From there on, her feelings and thoughts towards James had slowly begun to change, which had brought her to where she is now. 

She was now striding across the lacrosse field towards James, where he currently did sit ups. Y/N picked at her fingernails, slightly nervous, her eyes glancing at him. He had yet to notice that she was advancing on him. His eyes were trained on either the sky or the ground, depending on what position he was in during his set of sit ups. 

Then he stopped, sat up, and turned to look at her. He rested his forearms on his knees. 

“And for what misfortune can I thank for this visit?” he asked, blinking a few times. James gave her a not so pleasant look. Y/N was silent for a few seconds. Her eyes fluttered as she stared down at the ground. 

“I’ve come to apologize.” Y/N stared back up at him. James stood up and turned to fully face her. He showed a slight surprised look on his face. “You know…” She trailed off. He raised an eyebrow, but he had patiently waited for her to speak. “I’ve never really had a specific reason to hate you. And I want to apologize for treating you in the way that I have been, because it’s technically not warranted.” 

“I thought you hated me?” 

“I don’t hate you.” Y/N finally admitted. The two seemed to freeze at that moment. It was almost as if she surprised herself by saying it and that he was surprised that she had said it at all. Then he pouted. 

“So no more flipping each other the bird?” He pretended to be sad, and Y/N had smiled. 

“I mean, if you are used to the routine of it, I’ll do it still. But it won’t hold any meaning to it other than to make you happy.” 

“You, making the attempt to keep me happy? I’m flattered.” James flashed her a smile as she started to back away. 

“Flattery. Boosting your ego. Call it whatever you like.” Y/N took a few steps back, knowing she should probably be heading home, a small smile still adorned her face. The two were silent for several seconds. “Are we good?” She asked. The corner of James’ mouth quirked up. 

“Yea.” He said, quietly. “We’re good.” Y/N’s smile grew a tad bigger, before turning around and starting to walk away. “Oh, and Y/N?” She paused momentarily, turning to look back at him. 

“It’s only my ego you can boost.” He winked, and Y/N flipped him the bird, resulting a smile from the both of them and she put more distance between the two of them. 

—-

Over the next few weeks, the two seemed to grow closer and closer, however, being Lydia’s friend and not exactly coming from a rich family, Y/N tried to keep it hidden. It was hard too, considering everyone went to school together, but they had made it work for the most part. However, Y/N still felt that it was unfair to Lydia, considering that she was her friend. 

Of course, her and James never confirmed anything, but if there was a possibility, she would hate for it to happen under Lydia’s nose. If anything happened between her and James, it could be detrimental to their friendship. 

But now here were Y/N and James. He had bailed on attending the event for the Young Beaufort line and had instead switched places with his sister. He met up with Y/N at the donor gala, where they had danced, before ending up underneath the hall in which the gala was taking place. 

They had turned on the power, but even after it was back on, the two remained downstairs. They stared silently at each other, tension, albeit the good kind, filled the room. It was only seconds before the two pushed themselves against the other, locking themselves into a sensual kiss. James took a few steps forward as he kissed her, physically feeling Y/N melt against him as his hands rested on her waist while hers sat in his hair. 

When he had pushed her up against the wall, one of his hands rested on the wall next to her and the other tangled itself in her hair. 

Then Y/N felt the guilt. Lydia wasn’t even here. She wouldn’t find out, but she didn’t even know about the two of them and what they were doing. Y/N couldn’t do this. Not too Lydia. This wasn’t fair for her. 

Y/N pushed James off of her, guilt written across her face. He stared at her, confused. Did he go too far? Was she okay? He went to open his mouth, but she had stopped him. 

“I- I’m.” She paused for a few seconds, swallowing thickly as she looked everywhere but his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

And then she was gone, racing up the stairs and out of Maxton Hall, leaving James to wonder what the fuck had exactly just happened. 

taglist: @honethatty12 @lifeonawhim @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 @maryvibess @wheredidmyeyesgo @imasimptoowth @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[freeworldallahmbaclass]

Another monument for me this time in my hometown Harlem New York City for finding the cure for HIV/AIDS that is what the statue symbolizing me finding the cure for HIV / AIDS and funny stuff it is on 135th street across from the Percy Sutton school and I laugh at the 32nd precinct now I found the cure for HIV / AIDS and I sponsor it get Cabenuva it will help you go undetected for HIV eliminating the chance of it developing into Aids the miracle has finally reached the general public and I sponsor it so forget the noise and take your medicine as prescribed so you grow up healthy and strong success is the best revenge guaranteed you heard it from me Cabenuva is that cure and I sponsor it thank you I'm honored for the privilege to help , thanks .

Thank you so much . I love you according to Christianity you are forgiven and according to Joel Osteen I can't compromise with that , no thank you I forgive you .

Thank you I'm honored . Wherever their is people starving and dying from hunger and HIV AIDS use my page to help that country whether it's India , Brazil and not talked about regions and areas in poor neighborhoods in places like Africa and raise the salary for people in Dhaka give them water pumps and more on their paychecks so they can afford to take care of their families thank you it has been great helping the people goodbye and good luck to you and your family .

Eat good , be content with the little bit that you do have like good friends and put God first and everything else that you want and better yet need will be added to you , and read these books from my personal coach , trainer and mother Joyce Meyer and new Minister and teacher of New York City my mom and your mother Joyce Meyer . I'm just happy that all my friends are successful in life and prospering in their career and have blessed families even though the puppet masters had me on the computer trying to hate on them on facebook and this social media tumblr page for years typing on the computer trying to hate on them but they are good and doing great in life and now my conscious is clear and it is not as expensive pain for me no more as long as they good great music great wives and kids and longevity in their career I decided to go back to them as their friend and stay with my friends and keep that circle of friends that I grew up with and keep the hope for myself because I still believe in love for myself like that Vado and Mary J Blige song beautiful Mary J Blige , I got the fame I wanted and the mother play I wanted sponsored by the 2nd stage theater I got what I wanted basically now I'm at peace with myself now and is being educated by my ministers and pastors and my second call to do something I love , music and stay with God first place in my life .

The greatest donation I can give to anybody , I give you a dollar to get your life together and in some places it can pay your bail and God will take that hold off of your life and free your head from the birds I mean the vultures and stop Satan your enemy from stealing the word God's word from your heart and memory .

Congratulations to me for my gift ��� from the Brooklyn public library a book called the making of a king 👑 by Robert Hardman about me King Charles the third and the modern monarchy and them crowning Nicki Minaj and Cardi B real Queens of the world officially like official Queens of the world now that is hot thank you both sponsor me and my practical basic education and it is good since I'm a private person and shy away from the crowd both women is people that the public the hood like more than me and love so they could be friends with them they are like my protectors what I mean is like I give you somebody you could be friends with if you don't like me a lot of people don't a d aren't going to like you can't like the person helping that is how it is that is always how it is with leaders and since people see me as the geek type quiet reserved guy my female friends women friends are more cool and outgoing and love to meet people and chill with the common people and party with them while I stay to myself , thank you it has been an honor helping with this page I hope this help find you in good health good luck and goodbye , thanks .

I woke up here and I inherited it the same place where I'm at its bad but it is mines I inherited it , thank you .

Yes I do stay in a not so clean and dangerous place well a dirty place if you call it that but if you know anything about me I actually own the neighborhoods I live in I own the hospital my own hospital given to me by a Governor it's my incubator , I own the parks in my neighborhood New York City parks now all of them now and where I live in where the girls don't get to come to see me here but I venture out to see them sometimes we are cool they call it a liability but I inherited these neighborhoods and New York City and a rough and dangerous place to live but it is okay and hopefully my goodness , hospitable charm and love for them warms them and help them like I said thank you I'm working on getting out of here so I will see you outside thank you .

I'm King 👑 the decree from the British Monarchy thank you that is huge thanks and own the 2nd stage theater is mines and no I don't mess with street people no more I did everything for them got them Citibikes computers on Rikers Island and legalized weed for them and I moved on from them and Governor Kathy Hochul told me to dump them slim down lose the weight from the overload of carrying my enemies and their girlfriends off of me and get my life together and I'm doing just that no thank you that should make us friends .

I'm going to end it on this note here Vado from Harlem a rap musician and Mary J Blige got a song called I still believe in love that is somebody from my neighborhood that made it a way for me to be able to get a future for myself financially through a regular paying job and getting myself together and I said thank you to him and Mary thanks now Im stepping off from them and wish them the best of luck in their career and goodbye to me from my old neighborhoods and people from my past so that I can get my life together anybody got any ideas on how a super hero can get a good paying job , see you on there side of success personal success thanks and goodbye it has been an honor helping the people .

[unjest]

MAN some of the things i miss the most about blaseball were the really small things. like "the inning is now an outing" and how wins and runs were physical objects with weight and how you could click on your peanuts to eat them and how items like the Skate Board was depicted as a wooden board with the Skate element or the Iron Glove was pictured as a clothing iron. and the silly random chance stuff like Socks Maybe getting Theoretical Shoes or Fish Summers being the first player to get launched from the Salmon Cannons or Sutton Picklestein having the returned mod proc the same election they got necromanced in. It was all just so fun and silly and now its gone

[agendabymooner]

maneater ! fernando a. / carlos s. x ofc

“you wish you never ever met her at all.”

summary: bonnie sutton dated carlos sainz for four years and was in the spotlight (thanks to his status as a formula one driver) for two years until a scandal erupted — making her hide away from the social media for two years. too many people think that she’s bound to ruin his career with her return, but all she wanted was to put her unwanted fame to use and show off the man who saw her worth as something more.

content warning: age gap, infidelity (nothing personal/irl), use of explicit language, haters gonna hate, rumours/news, fairly short i think

note: nando fuckers, unite 🤭 yesterday i posted an ex!nando x ofc so here’s some new nando x ofc content lol (ft. ex!carlos) enjoy xx

masterlist

liked by pierregasly, fernandoalo_oficial, aitch

user1 THE FUCK ASS BOB IS BACK !!!! 😮‍💨😭

user2 welcome back sexy mama 😚

user3 i can see half the grid on the likes section

user4 alright who’s tryna shoot their shot now. charles_leclerc you wanna start first?

charles_leclerc pretty as always mon ange!! liked by bonbonsutton

bonbonsutton 😉😘

pierregasly as sweet as a chocolate mon amour 😍 liked by bonbonsutton

user5 nah bro everybody tryna shoot their shot

user6 i can understand half the grid being here but what’s alo doing here 🤣🤣

user7 bros tryna shoot his shot too 🤩 don’t discourage him

kendalljenner smash your honour liked by bonbonsutton

themarcjacobs such a queen 👸 liked by bonbonsutton

user8 sis really said “yup i’m fucking famous and i’ll make sure you’ll regret making me one” liked by bonbonsutton

user9 alexa play literal legend

tagged fernandoalo_oficial

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll

user1 she got bagged by a war criminal it’s over for us guys 🥲

user2 listen if she got bagged by a war criminal it means we all have a chance in life alright 🤓 don’t lose too much hopes now

fernandoalo_official you’re one of a kind, mi bonita diamante my pretty diamond liked by bonbonsutton

bonbonsutton i love you so bad ❤️

user3 i am so honoured to be a part of the f1 community bc not everyday i get to see someone have a heart attack after finding out that their ex is getting married to a coworker

user4 please tell me i’m dreaming

bonbonsutton you’re dreaming

user4 thanks bon

charles_leclerc excited for you and alo!!!! liked by bonbonsutton

user5 LMFAO CHARLES BEING THE BIGGEST SUPPORTER OF BON

user6 whats even funnier is that carlos is his teammate 😭 we all know it’s real bad if charles sides with bonnie

lance_stroll send us the addy and date liked by bonbonsutton

bonbonsutton if we send you an invite will you actually be our ring bearer?

lance_stroll bet 👌

bonbonsutton 🙏

[the-bi-library]

Happy bi visibility day!!

To celebrate the occasion, here is the part 1 of my bi4bi books posts!

Books listed

They Hate Each Other by Amanda Woody 6 Times We Almost Kissed by Tess Sharpe Stuck with You by 'Nathan Burgoine This Spells Disaster by Tori Anne Martin Check Your Work by Skye Kilaen Troublemaker by Sean Ashcroft Fake It by Lily Seabrooke A Merry Little Meet Cute by Julie Murphy and Sierra Simone Crystals and Contracts by A.A. Fairview Keep Your Witches Close by Colette Rivera Payback’s a Witch by Lana Harper Ride With Me by Jenna Jarvis Melt With You by Jennifer Dugan Trapped in Love by Danica Flynn Butterfly Chances by Margo Phelps Dearly Departed by Heather Novak Sorry, Bro by Taleen VoskuniWhen It All Syncs Up by Maya Ameyaw More To Love by Georgina Kiersten Play by Nikki Markham Let Love Rule by Frances M. Thompson Defying Convention by Cecil Wilde True Love Bites by Joy Demorra Undaunted by Devin Harnois The Girls I've been by Tess Sharpe The Girl in Question by Tess Sharpe Cut & Run by Madeleine Urban Double Exposure by Rien GrayThe Lady Upstairs by Halley Sutton Of Knights and Books and Falling In Love by Rita A. Rubin The Calyx Charm by May Peterson The Sorcerer's Guardian by Antonia Aquilante

Make sure to check the TWs for all books if necessary.

Here is the goodreads list of these books (and many more which I will post soon)

[johnwickb1tsch]

andar conmigo ~ part 10

A Walk in the Clouds/Don John crossover outline/fic- Paul Sutton x fem!Reader x Don John triangle ~ You grow up at Las Nubes vineyard, and have to go home to your dying father. You take your fake new husband, Sgt Paul Sutton, with you...Your old flame don John does not like this at all. Warnings: don John STILL being himself an asshole, nsfw chapter map

For once you wake before Paul, and you relish the chance to admire his sleeping form in the morning sunlight. He looks innocent as a child in rest, and you lightly caress the curve of his cheek. 

In the sober light of day–not much sense has returned to you. You still feel head over heels lost to this man, and with a sigh you quietly accept that he has changed you. To simply know this man is to love him, and for the umpteenth time you marvel at how his wife Betty could have let him go. 

Her loss, you think with some unbecoming smugness. 

He wakes, those long eyelashes fluttering, and you can’t help but compare him to a princess rising from her sleeping spell. Madre de Dios this man is so pretty, and your heart is so full it hurts. 

“Hi,” he says softly, and you lean in to press your lips to his. “Are you ok?”

You tilt your head, not sure what he means. Last night had been otherworldly, at least for you. “I’m wonderful. ¿Por qué?” 

“Just…everything, yesterday. And last night. The way that jackass talks about you...”

It moves you to your toes, that this is the first thing he asks you today. You can’t help but think about how that jackass talked about Paul too, and your mood falls. “I’m so sorry about last night. I never should have put you through that. If you want to leave…I understand.” 

You can’t leave your father now, but a part of you wishes Paul would leave Las Nubes. You have a terrible feeling about what might happen, if he remains in don Juan’s proximity. 

However, he snorts at that idea. “The only way I’m leaving here is with you, sweetheart. And I know we can’t go yet.”

You sigh. You could move out of the hacienda, at least, back to your father’s house. But you wouldn’t have the privacy you do here, at the end of the hall in the grand mansion. Perhaps you have been suckered by some of the Aragón’s opulence.  

“What did he say to you? Last night?”

Paul just shakes his head, blowing out a long breath. “Just more veiled threats and talking up how long his illustrious ancestors have been here, fighting for what’s theirs.” Then he laughs, a thing that is fast becoming your favorite sound. “I think I could take him down a peg.” 

You run an appreciative hand over the generous bulge of his biceps, lifting your eyebrows with approval, your thoughts turning warm and fuzzy as velvet as desire clouds your brain. “I’m sure you could.” You kiss him again, a lingering press of lips that fills you with butterflies. “But please don’t. He will make it go badly, somehow. That man is a snake.” 

“Hmm.” He rolls over on you, and a wave of desire overcomes you as his weight presses you into the bed, his lips on yours. He sits up on his elbows to ask, “And I’m…just helpless as a lamb?”

“I know you’re not helpless, Paul.” You reach up to brush his hair out of his eyes. It immediately falls back down again, and he smiles. “You’re just…precious to me.” 

“Precious, huh?” He moves his hips against you, the bulge of his morning arousal unyielding against your center. “That sounds…like you sorta like me,” he teases. 

“Yes. I sorta like you,” you agree with a smile, spreading your legs more. You know you’re playing with fire, but you just can’t stop with this man. He doesn’t ask you this time. He doesn’t need to–just slides inside, because you are already so wet for him, and this is the way you are meant to be. 

He closes his eyes, moaning as he loses himself in slow, deep thrusts inside you. You find yourself thinking this is your idea of heaven, entwined with Paul Sutton, with nothing between you. There is no purer state of being, than sharing your body with this beautiful man.

When he draws back to meet your eyes while he moves inside you, you are ruined. He takes you to the top of the mountain with no hands at all, just beautiful friction between you and his soft brown eyes staring into your soul. It is only by a miracle does he manage to withdraw from the warm perfection of your clenching pussy at just the last moment, spilling himself on your thigh with a shuddering groan.

When he finally regains mental function, his head on your breast, he pants, “Have I mentioned…I’m kicking myself?”

You offer a breathless laugh, also wishing you had some of those useful rubber contraptions. “I might kick you too.”

He laughs at that, then turns an adorably pouting lower lip upon you. It’s completely unfair, and you take it all back, giggling. “I’m joking. You’re so good to me,” you marvel, running your fingers through his hair. He looks at you, waiting a little longer, hopeful for those three sacred words, but not pushing you. “You’re the best man I know, Paul. I adore you.” You mean it, and you hope it’s enough for now. 

A part of you knows that once you say those other three words…it will be the last nail in your coffin. You’ll never want to leave his side.

You’re slowly beginning to accept that might not be such a bad thing.

***

You get to see the mare in question later that morning, on your way to your father’s house to relieve Josefa. Don Juan catches you on the path astride his black mare, and you have to admit it may be the most beautiful horse you’ve ever seen. You hate to say it…but he is magnificent too, a consummate horseman, as at home in the saddle as on his own two long legs. 

Perhaps it is not your fault, that you are impressed by such things. It’s in your blood. The horses your people brought from Spain shaped the destiny of this country, for better or for worse. 

“Buenos días, señorita.”

“Señora,” you insist, annoyed that he persists in his suspicion that Paul is not your real husband. 

“Pfft. If you say so.” He smirks down at you, his large hands in black leather gauntlets gripping the reins. “Sombra, where are your manners?” He gives a signal to his horse, and she takes a step back, dipping her front legs and bowing her head. A pretty trick that makes you smile, despite yourself. He tips his hat at you, and trots off before you can rake him over the coals for his atrocious behavior the night before.

Settling for rolling your eyes and grumbling under your breath, you continue on your way.

It is one of those beautiful days at Las Nubes that makes you almost wish you could stay here. The weather is fine. The sheep bleat in the distance, and the birds sing in the trees. You and your sisters moved your father out to a rope bed in the shade, and he is enjoying it too, your hand in his. 

You hate to say that these have been some of the nicest hours you’ve spent with him in your lifetime. He was always such a stern man, and distant, after your mother’s death. But sickness has softened some of his hard edges, and he talks to you like a person, and not a thing that needs ordering about. He tells you snatches about this and that, memories of your mother and life at Las Nubes long before you were born. Life here has not changed much, over the decades. 

At midday after you feed Papa and settle him inside for a nap, Anjelica takes over, and you are free to go find Paul. In the distance at the corrals you hear whistles and gritos, shouts of encouragement, and you know the men must be working the horses now that the harvest is done. It is a second source of income for Las Nubes, as well as a point of pride. Just as don Juan said, with patience and hard work, some of the finest horseflesh to be found in Alta California comes from his stables.

As you near closer you see Paul’s unmistakeable tall form leaning on the fence with the other men. One of them is clapping him on the back. Everyone has warmed to your husband, suspicion of the gringo turned to warmth as he proved a hard worker with an open heart. Everyone, except for Juan.

You see that He Himself is in the center of the corral, the ringleader working out a silver grulla stallion, making the horse run in circles by swinging a rope. You feel a little sorry for the horse, knowing his fate, though you also know Juan is not really hurting him. 

You lean against Paul when you reach him, not interrupting his halting conversation with Fernando, Josefa’s husband, who barely speaks English, but is still determined to explain to their newest recruit what don Juan is doing. Paul listens earnestly none the less, nodding like he understands every word. You hide your smile against his sleeve. This man is a saint walking among you.

Paul slips his arm around you wordlessly, and you are content standing moulded to his side at the fence rails. To say you are looking forward to siesta today is an understatement.

You do not know it, because in Paul’s arms you aren’t really paying attention to don Juan, but he sees everything all while he is working the unruly horse. The thing could use a few more laps to tire him out more, but he manages to get the saddle on the animal’s back without the stallion bucking it off. 

“He’s ready for you, señor Sutton!” 

All the men whistle and yell enthusiastically for Paul’s chance to prove himself among them. 

Your blood runs cold. 

“No,” you say quietly, your fingers turned to claws clutching his arm. 

Paul looks from you to everyone around saying exactly the opposite, looking to him expectantly.   

“Pa-ul!” sings out Juan. “Show us vaqueros how it’s done!” 

You watch as their eyes meet across the dusty corral, and a challenge is leveled between them. Testosterone wreaks its damage, and you know Paul isn’t going to listen to you, even as you continue to pull on his arm. 

“How hard can it be?” he asks you naively. “You just gotta hold on, right?” You sense the ‘If he can do it, I can do it’ subtext in his statement, and your heart is in your throat.  

“He’s been doing this since the day he could walk, Paul. It’s dangerous. Please don’t,” you beg him, shaking your head. You have a terrible feeling about this, and your bones are laden with pure dread. 

“I survived getting shot at by Nazis for four years. I can probably survive riding a horse.”  He is not short with you, but there is an edge to his words, and this is a stubborn side of Paul you have not seen yet. 

For the benefit of the Spanish speaking spectators, Juan says loudly, “She’s really got him by the cajones, doesn’t she boys?”

Paul doesn’t understand the exact words, but he definitely gets the gist of it when all the men start to laugh. 

“I’ll be fine,” says Paul, kissing your forehead. 

But you grab the front of his shirt, telling him as quickly as you can, “These animals move like lightning. Do not stand behind that horse. Only the side. But watch its feet.” You remember you have part of an apple left in your apron pocket, and you bite off a tiny piece of it, pressing it into his palm. “Give it this. Let it smell you, but hold your hand flat, don’t let it bite you. Move slow, speak softly, but be firm. Don’t scare it. If you die, I’ll kill you.”

The last part wins you that generous smile that fills your heart with sunshine. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got it.” You pull him down by his shirt to kiss him with a pathetic desperation, and now everyone catcalls and whistles for the two of you. Paul receives encouragement and hearty pats on the back as he goes to climb the fence of the corral, and you grip the fence rail with white knuckles as you watch, praying to a God you don’t necessarily like or much believe in. 

“He’ll be ok, chica,” Fernando tries to soothe you. “You must let a man be a man.” He beats his chest for emphasis, and you roll your eyes at this idiotic macho philosophy. 

“He’d better be, Fernando, or I am going to make everyone here sorry.” 

Out the corner of your eye you see your brother in law inch away from you on the fence. 

Paul does as you said, approaching slowly from the front, accepting the rope reins from don Juan. There is a long, tense moment of eye contact between them that has you grinding your teeth so hard it's a miracle they don’t crack. 

“Think you can handle him, amigo?”

Paul strokes the nervous horse’s neck slowly, watching its sweat-shiny coat quiver. “Guess we’ll find out.” 

Juan backs off with a bow, giving Paul the floor. Its so quiet in the arena you could hear a pin drop. Rather than try to hop on immediately, Paul does as you advised, taking time to speak to the horse quietly, giving it the tidbit and letting it smell his hand, stroking its neck gently. You can’t help but think you know exactly how that horse feels in that moment. Suspicious, annoyed, but maybe curious about this kind man, who approaches you so differently than anyone else you’ve ever met.

He moves slowly, finally ready to get a foot up on the stirrup. The moment he puts the slightest bit of weight on it the horse sidesteps, taking Paul in hopping circles.

His audience chuckles, all knowing the feeling very well. 

Paul regains his feet again, holding the horse still by the reins and seeming to ask its permission again, speaking too low for the rest of you to hear. The horse’s ears flick, internally rolling its eyes, you suspect. You hold your breath as he tries to get a foot up again, and this time the horse allows Paul to sit astride it.

For about two seconds anyway, before the crow hopping starts.

You don’t want to watch, but you can’t tear your eyes away as Paul holds on for dear life, using his long legs to grip the wild animal’s middle. Your nails eat grooves in the old wooden fence, as you watch seemingly in slow motion as the horse gives a sharp buck, its hind legs kicking high in the air, and Paul–with the saddle–goes flying.

____

*there's a word for couples who use the pull-out method...they're called PARENTS. Be safe be, careful!!

**I've spent time with horses but am by no means a pro trainer, take this fic at face value, PLEASE do not think you can hop on an unbroken horse after just offering it an apple...😆 Paaaaullll...

[guiltyasdave]

im so sad. used to love hugh so much until us weekly confirmed that he cheated. and i know that there's a lot of red flags with the rumors (when a private account likes a post it will show up, no spotting of him and sutton despite the media being all over this story, only shitty tabloids are reporting on it, etc.) but still! there's a 50/50 chance this will be true.

but at least we still have logan. he can do no wrong.

hi! i gotta be so honest with you, i’m beyond tired of these rumors. and i don’t trust any tabloid to “confirm” anything lol. first hugh was absolutely heartbroken about the divorce, then he was gay all along and about to come out, now he cheated and had a secret relationship the entire time, like— 🥴

at the end of the day, these people are real human beings who deserve to have a private life and who should be allowed to make mistakes, because none of this is any of our business.

i mean this as no shade to you at all anon, and i’m sorry that you’re feeling sad, but this is the last ask about this topic that i’ll reply to, because i don’t see any benefit in speculating about these things.

[bloodyjuls-blog]

WHAT IF I LOSE YOU (part 3)

(I will fight to not lose you) - Alexia Putellas

There was a moment in my life where I wanted to give up, where everything was beyond me and what can you expect from a girl who grew up in Sutton running around with a soccer ball and who is now a super star? Life has never been easy, when you reach your teenage years and your social life overlaps with training, match day, recovery days? The only thing left was to do everything from home, from parties to drinking. Everything was easier without my parents at home, to be honest I grew up having everything, a big house, money, freedom and what I loved most after alcohol.... Football. When you become a professional nobody tells you the responsibilities and the exposure you bring with that and even if they say that women's soccer lacks attraction then they should have it checked because the pressure I felt playing for arsenal or city was very high and brought with it the expectation of the Barcelona soccer club to bring a star, to speak on and off the pitch. My younger days I remember with the talks with my parents for not being good enough to be in a professional league, which then when I achieved it would break me little by little because alcohol never left me, the faithful companion of my adventures.... Everything became a problem, I drank until the wee hours and made sure I got enough rest to perform the minimum in my club. Then my sister brings us the news of her pregnancy and I don't deny it, I always wanted to be a mother but there was a moment when my world came crashing down and I rejected the idea.

Flashback

It was the decisive league match for arsenal. We were facing Chelsea for the FA cup and the pressure from above forced us to win. But things always go wrong, that day I think I had one of the worst games of my life. I missed a lot of chances, I was always out of position and the worst thing is that my family was watching me from the stands.

At the dinner with my family, my father very disappointed tells me: "daughter I do not understand you, they tell us to come to see you and you play a shitty game" to which I a little upset I tell him: "if you are not interested then do not come, this is soccer" at the end of dinner the mood is lowered but my father there is something that does not fit, since I tried the first shot of vodka has made me bad faces. While I approach to take Ruppert, already 5 years old, my father takes him away from me and tells me: "I don't understand how they can want you in a club if you are an alcoholic, and much less I am going to allow you to take care of your nephews being in the conditions you are, do you think I didn't notice your flash of whiskey you had in your backpack or that you are going back home drunk, if something happens to you don't even bother to call me because I am not going to come and save your ass, you understand? " My tears were falling from my eyes, he had hurt me in a way I never thought he could. After all he was my father and I was his not so favorite daughter.

End of the Flashback

Alexia pov

"Hello, Ana. Do you know where y/n is?" I ask through the line in a worried voice. "No Ale, the only thing I know is that she had been drinking and left driving the car, I guess I'm guessing she's already in her apartment" Ana replied calmly. "Fuck this can't be" exclaimed Ale as she tried to call you back. "Ah I know who to call, maybe she has information" she thought calmer.

"Hi Leah how are you? It's Alexia" said Alexia calmly "Hi Alexia, well to what do I owe your call?" Answered Leah quizzically "I was wondering if you know anything about y/n, she called me a while ago and left me a little worried" you could tell from Alexia's voice that something wasn't right. "Ale the truth I don't know where y/n/n could have gone, what I do tell you is to please take care of her, and help with the alcohol issue she is not having a good time, and I am worried that something might happen to her" said a little more concerted Leah. "Of course, come on I'll leave you, I have another call coming in."

She answers the other call....

"Hello, is this Ms. Alexia Putellas?" A calm voice asks on the other line. "Who is calling?" answers a curious Alexia. "Ma'am this is the receptionist at Egarsat hospital speaking, I was speaking to inform you that Miss y/n y/l has been involved in an accident and you are listed as the emergency contact" Alexia at that moment felt tears fall from her eyes "yes this is her, tell me how is she? Tell me how is she?" says Alexia desperately "Ma'am the only thing I can tell you is that if you can, please go to the hospital as soon as possible, the emergency reception will tell you where to go" "thank you" says Alexia with an agitated voice.

Note: sorry I know had passed a couple of month but I'm near to graduate and that makes me full time persone and busy schedule. Love you all loads

[pedroscurls]

Did you see Hugh’s apparently seeing Sutton Foster? 🥲💔 (i never even stood a chance)

so - I’ve been hearing rumors since she announced her divorce and until he or she confirms it, I’m gonna remain delulu lol

(also just want the man happy so, if he is seeing her and he is happy then so be it… but honestly part of me is still holding out hope that he and deb get back together lmao)

[princess-geek]

It was a pleasure to be your beta reader and a delight to reread this gem! 💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎💎 @missameliep

I didn't drink a drop of alcohol, but this chapter let me drunk of emotions! See Elizabeth let herself go with the flow > Theresa and her explosive questions > Briar getting juicy information > Luke spilling the beans too (the Harry Potter detail was a surprise).

“Then you’ll have no problems playing Truth or Drink,” he said with the hint of satisfaction in his expression that only a sibling ready to see the other falling flat on their bottoms can express." Edmund is one of the best brothers in Pixelberry and you could turn him even better. As spectators of the drama unfolding, Elizabeth shared a knowing look with Hamid, and for a moment she considered walking to her stepbrother and smacking the back of his head to bring him back to his senses. Nothing beats siblings' love. 😋😋😋😋

It was very interesting to see the characters on adult XXI mode. I'm taking notes for when my babies grow up a bit more. 😏😏😏😏

I loved how Hamid took off his cool boy mask and admitted that things are not always shining in his world.

(Talking about admissions... Dear, Elizabeth, just kiss the boy! If you don't, I'll!!)

My favourite part was definitely Hamid helping Elizabeth at bedtime! I adore how you portrayed the mix of feelings on both sides.

I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE MORNING AFTER!!!!!

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Four: The Undeniable Truth

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU 

Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC)

Rating: M (see trigger warnings in the notes bellow)

Word count: ~12K

Summary: During the drinking games, truths will be revealed and hearts will be exposed, but some are not the ones everybody had been expecting...

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Luke Harper; Theresa Sutton.

Notes: 

* All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC.

* A huge thank you to @princess-geek for being my beta in this chapter and for all her support to my writing and this series.

* Non-English words translated at the notes in the end.

* Trigger warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of underage drinking and dialogues with sexual implied content.

* This is my submission to @choicesficwriterscreations fic of the week and @choicesmonthlychallenge (prompts - friends/holding hands/forehead kisses).

Elizabeth approached Edmund, held his arm, and signalled for him to lean closer. “Is it safe playing with Theresa?” she whispered, “Won’t she gossip about us later?”

“I suppose you never played a drinking game with Annabelle,” Edmund whispered back, and Elizabeth shook her head. She never played any sort of drinking game because getting drunk and sharing personal information are her least favourite pastimes.

“Theresa never lasts long in the game,” he explained, lowering his voice, “and she will be too smashed to remember anything tomorrow. Probably the rest of us too. So, your secrets will be safe.”

“I don’t have secrets!” was her immediate defensive response, but the pitch of her voice gave away the statement was far from the truth.

“Then you’ll have no problems playing Truth or Drink,” he said with the hint of satisfaction in his expression that only a sibling ready to see the other falling flat on their bottoms can express.

Releasing the grip on his arm, Elizabeth lagged, regretting not thoroughly thinking this through.

What was I thinking? This is such a bad idea! I’ll get drunk and embarrass myself. Or worse, Briar will tease me about Hamid, and I’ll be mortified.

Slipping something stupid or inappropriate or worse the truth was simply overwhelming.

“Aren’t you coming?” Edmund asked, holding the door open for her, and she threw her shoulders back trying to balance the weight of her worries about everything that could go wrong tonight.

On her way outside, she’s met by Briar’s stare, holding Hamid’s arm for support. “What’s wrong?”

Gnawing at one thumb’s nail, Elizabeth said, “I haven’t played this kind of game since school and there was no drinking involved...”

“Be brave and honour your ancestor, a woman who had premarital sex with a man who was not her fiancé and engaged in swordfight on her wedding day. Total badass!”

“Sword fighting? Impressive,” Hamid remarked, and Briar promised to lend him the journal after she finished it.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.” Leaning forward and adopting a conspiratorial tone, Briar said, “And if the truth it too ugly to handle, lie. Just like everybody else.”

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth’s brows raised in surprise. “What’s the point if you don’t say the truth?”

Both laughed at her reaction and Hamid offered his free arm so they could walk together.

After assembling large bags of crisps, a plate with mini-sandwiches, a bowl of popcorn, cans of soft drinks and the four wine bottles Edmund and Annabelle retrieved from the famous Edgewater’s cellar – wine good enough to not give them a headache tomorrow, but not the vintage and expensive kind that would be missed – and one bottle of scotch from Edmund’s personal reserve for his own pleasure, the group re-joined.

Edmund glanced at the silent corridor before closing the door of the elegant guestroom. The crackling of the fire and the drumming of the rain against the windows were muffled by the exciting conversations.

This room was not selected because of the delicate floral wallpaper or the inviting furniture, but due to its remoteness, in the wing reserved for summer guests. There was not the slightest chance of Lady Dominique bursting in unless she was actively searching for any of them, which was very unlikely, considering she left to a dinner party in one of the neighbouring estates. Despite living in these lands for the better part of her life, the lady had greatly complained about the inconvenience of the pouring rain when she stopped by at the game room to hear about the picnic, and a few of them stifled laughs at the resemblance of Elizabeth’s own displeasure with the weather at London on several occasions.

Except for Theresa who didn’t really care for contemporary music but liked Mariah Carey, everyone else engaged in a passionate debate about the perfect music for the evening, advocating for their favourite genres. Annabelle, for instance, suggested one of her playlists with progressive rock and all-female rock bands.

“You can’t dance to that?” Briar retorted, and Annabelle snorted pointing at Briar’s feet resting on an ottoman. “First, you can’t dance anyway. Second,” she made a dramatic pause and a song started blasting from her mobile, “how can anyone not feel like dancing to ‘Bad Reputation’?”

To form a consensus was almost impossible considering the variety of playlists and genres each one vouched for. After fifteen minutes of debating, Hamid’s diplomatic skills proved effective in solving the impasse, and he offered to create a collaborative playlist with songs from everyone’s favourite playlists, and peace reigned once more.

With the music playing in the background, their attention focused on moving the armchairs and placing throw-pillows over the plush rug to make room for everyone around the hardwood oval cocktail table, where two of the bottles of wine and seven low ball glasses had been settled. With Annabelle’s assistance, Briar accommodated herself first. Despite Theresa’s presence – which was emphasised by the incessant chatter about a range of subjects that her fiancé had little to no interest in listening to, leaving Hamid, the most empathetic of the group, stuck with her for the past several minutes –, Edmund looked intently, as if entranced by the scene, or considering if he should take a seat at the cushion on Briar’s other side.

As spectators of the drama unfolding, Elizabeth shared a knowing look with Hamid, and for a moment she considered walking to her stepbrother and smacking the back of his head to bring him back to his senses. However, resorting to violence was not necessary. Without being incited by any of the presents, Edmund turned around and picked a different cushion, one that wasn’t beside nor facing Briar, and Theresa followed suit, sitting beside him.

Annabelle’s thirst for drama would not be sate just yet, a hint of disappointment visible when a mischievous smile was erased from her lips.

From the remaining three cushions, Hamid deliberately picked the one in the middle, and with an inviting smile at Elizabeth, patted the cushion at his right, the one who would allow her to sit beside Briar as well – which the man certainly assumed could make the choice easier. Taking the cue, Luke sat at his left, between him and Edmund.

“Everyone knows the rules?” Annabelle asked.

“Can’t I just drink? I’m not interested in the secrets or whatever...”

“You know that’s not how it works, Marlcaster. Anyone who doesn’t participate can’t be here. So, in or out?”

“Out.” Picking the bottle of scotch, he started to get up, but Elizabeth jumped to her feet and pointed a finger at him, remembering the times they were kids and he sneaked away with his friends to play videogames, leaving a crying Harry behind for her to soothe.

“No, you don’t!” she said with a firmer and louder tone than everyone expected, including herself. When every pair of surprised eyes darted to her face, she blushed and took a second to muster an inexpressible small smile. “It will be fun,” she pushed lively words through her teeth, while trying to telepathically warn him: “You’re not dropping Theresa with us!”

Startled by the intimidating tone he hasn’t heard in years and narrowed green eyes staring him down, he hesitated for a second before changing his mind and sitting back down.

Theresa looked happy at his change of mind, and he actively ignored Annabelle’s muffled giggles.

“As our hostess, Liz should start!” Briar rapped on the table, drawing a drumming sound.

“Alright. Let me see... Never have I ever... broken a bone.”

Hamid, Annabelle, Edmund, and Luke sipped their glasses, and it was time for the next participant.

With a mischievous smile, Briar looked around, and said, “Never have I ever... ghosted someone.”

“How is that possible if we’re all alive?” Theresa asked out loud, and Luke huffed with laugh assuming it was a joke – which in fact was not. As Hamid explained the meaning of the word ghosting in this context, Annabelle, who had been targeted by the asker, drank the content of her glass. Luke and Edmund did the same, then a hesitant Elizabeth took a small sip of the red wine as subtle as possible, but not subtle enough to escape Briar’s hawk eyes.

“You ghosted someone?” she gasped.

Looking intently at the glass in her hand, Elizabeth mumbled, “Once. Long ago... It was… yeah… it was no big deal…”

“Really?” Briar’s voice and eyebrows raised. “You, Elizabeth Victoria Foredale, were absolutely fine ghosting someone who I assume fancied you?”

“That’s not my name!”

“Don’t change the subject!” Briar pointed a warning finger at her, trying to hold in a laugh.

Elizabeth sighed and gnawed at a cuticle, “Fine. I might have sent an anonymous gift basket from a fancy bakery… because I was feeling bad for him…”

“Now, I believe it.”

“I wish the girls who ghosted me would’ve been that nice…” Annabelle mused, “Carbs would make it easier having my ass dumped...”

“Unless they weren’t gluten free…” Briar chimed in.

“Good point. That would be the final blow.”

“Why not simply saying you were not interested?” Hamid inquired, not a hint of judgement in his tone, but her face was already burning with all the attention her honesty attracted – and a bit of shame for admitting it out loud in front of him.

“Poor social skills,” she sighed, understanding what Briar meant before. “Now can we move on?”

Annabelle was next and a playful smile curled her lips, while eyes full of mischief focused on her target. The question darted from her lips with intent. “Never have I ever kept a secret crush from people in this room.”

Edmund’s gaze flicked over to Annabelle, and his fingers encircled the glass, but he didn’t lift it; instead, he let his palms splay over the table, watching the others, to see if anybody was going to take a drink or point a finger at him.

After a moment of dwelling if her crush was indeed a secret or not, considering at least half of the presents were aware of it, Elizabeth also decided not to drink.

Resting her chin on her palm, Annabelle chewed on a crisp and muttered looking directly at Edmund, “I was expecting someone to drink…”

“I’m absolutely transparent,” Hamid said, “none of my crushes could ever be a secret.”

“Me too,” Briar piped in. “I’m an open book.”

“Then you must tell me,” Theresa pleaded, “I don’t know who your crush is!”

“Right now?” Briar gulped. “Zero crushes!”

“What about Woods?” Edmund threw the question and with an impassive expression resumed sipping his drink. The attention of the group flicked from him to Briar.

“I wouldn’t call it a crush... He’s a... friend.”

“Woods?” Theresa echoed the name, trying to figure out who they were talking about. “You mean the butler?”

“Yes, he’s a butler and the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“Doesn’t that mean you want to be more than friends?”

“I... It’s...” Briar stuttered, and Edmund looked away. While she tried to find a definitive answer, her cheeks reddened in an extraordinary occurrence. “I don’t, Theresa. What we have is perfect.”

Theresa flooded Briar with questions about Woods and her love life, but most remained answered.

“Let’s not dally. Theresa, I believe you’re next.”

“Never have I ever... hmmm...” Theresa fidgeted with the pendants of her bracelet while looking at Elizabeth. “Never have I ever… being arrested.”

Only Annabelle drank.

“Twice.” She raised two of her fingers, sating the curiosity of the others. “Protesting.”

Propping her arms over the table, Theresa leaned and tried to meet Elizabeth’s eye. “What about you, Eliza?”

“Me?” She pointed at herself. “What about me?”

“We’re amongst friends here…” she said in a honeyed tone, “Not even once? Not even for a tiny, teeny crime? Shoplifting, perhaps?”

Like a fish out of the water, Elizabeth’s mouth opened and closed without emitting any sound, and she considered how to reply to this questioning without being terribly rude, even though that was one of the occasions courtesies could be ignored. Before she decided, Briar laughed at the inquisitiveness, and blocked Theresa’s view of Elizabeth’s face. “What are you? A cop?”

Theresa laughed, but it was a nervous kind of laugh and not her regular one.

“No, of course not! I’m not investigating her… I mean… I’m being… nosy, like we ought to, right?” she stuttered and averted her gaze, making her words sound even more unconvincing. “That’s what makes it fun, isn’t it?”

There was no answer to the questions, only more chewing sounds before the game resumed.

“Your turn, Marlcaster,” Annabelle said and contemplated him for a second. “Why is your glass empty?”

The glass was pushed in her direction. “I need a refill.”

She poured more wine, filling the short glass to the rim. Edmund stared at the content of the glass as if expecting the Bordeaux to offer him a viable idea, until his blue eyes flicked to Annabelle, and a barely-there smile curled his lips.

“Never have I ever… gotten a tattoo.”

In a mix of complaining about being unjustly targeted in this game, and complimenting the fine wine, Annabelle drank first, followed by Luke and Elizabeth. Edmund’s jaw dropped at the sight of his stepsister drinking.

“You? You have a tattoo?”

“I actually have two,” Elizabeth said offering a proud smile.

His blue eyes widened, unblinking. “Lady grandmother will have a stroke if she ever finds out!”

“Since they’re very well concealed, she won’t find out, unless one of you tell her, which I hope you won’t.”

“I can testify they’re absolutely hidden from sight!” Hamid said causally, and the eyes of the one he was speaking about darted to his face.

“Dude!” Elizabeth exclaimed lifting both hands.

“I’m complimenting you for doing an outstanding job hiding them. I saw you on your bathing suit and there was no sign of tattoos. Not that I was checking for tattoos, but... Good job!” He raised his thumbs in approval, meanwhile, Edmund shook his head, muttered something unintelligible under his breath and gulped the content of his glass.

Chuckling, Annabelle interrupted the questions about the design of Elizabeth’s tattoos and the pleas to see them.

“Alright, we get it. Liz’s got tattoos and Hamid’s thirst... Luke you’re next.”

They played more rounds and soon emptied two bottles of wine and consumed half the food. The more Theresa drank, the less her questions seemed coherent with her early line of investigation on Elizabeth’s life and the more inclined she felt to ask about everyone else’s, for undisclosed reasons Hamid’s love life seemed to have piqued her interest the most.

It was safe to say that despite the sheer embarrassment of sharing details about her life, Elizabeth was enjoying herself. Perhaps it was the fact that by that point the alcohol had released part of her inhibitions, perhaps the laughter and funny stories her friends shared eased her. Even if the prospect of Edmund cracking under pressure seemed less likely to happen, she was content, but sleepy. Stretching her arms over her head, Elizabeth yawned, even though it was only a quarter after 10pm.

Edmund pulled the cork of the third bottle of wine, which fell to the floor and rolled, disappearing underneath the sofa.

Annabelle looked around holding one of the empty bottles, and declared, “I believe it’s time to change games. What do you think?”

“Definitely. We’re not really finding out anything interesting, except that Luke is a Potterhead.” Her words carried her disapproval, and he raised his hands to the air, correcting her, “I’m not. I told you: my ex was obsessed; I learned by osmosis…and most of it against my will. It’s not like I was going to comic-cons with her and cosplaying…”

“I bet you dressed as Harry at some point…” she giggled while pouring more wine on hers and Annabelle’s glasses.

He chuckled and averted his gaze.

“Ohmygod! You did it!”

Without looking at anybody, he licked his lips and answered quietly against the rim of the glass, “I certainly did, but it was definitely not for Halloween…”

His words stirred Briar’s curiosity, and she leaned forward, elbows on the table, completely focused on him and the information he was half-offering. She tried to meet his eyes, but he averted his gaze, while sipping his drink, and her mouth rounded when realization dawned on her.

“Roleplaying, Luke?” Briar cried, and he shrugged. “Naughty!”

After a few unanswered follow-up questions about his sex life, the nosy woman finally dropped the subject.

“We’ll play Truth or Drink. You know the drill. Whoever the bottle points at must answer the question or drink!” Annabelle announced wringing her hand.

“What about Hamid, he’s not really drinking...” Briar said grinning and pointing at the small glass filled with diet coke. “It won’t be fair to us.”

“Why aren’t you drinking? Is this a religious thing?” Theresa shot the question, and Edmund chided her.

Hamid waved his hand signalling it was okay, however Elizabeth glared at Theresa, finally showing irritation at the nosy woman inquires.

“You don’t need to answer that, Hamid,” she said softly to him.

“It’s alright, Liz,” he replied, resting a hand over the one of hers lying on her knee. “You guys want the long or short version?”

“Long!” Briar and Theresa cried in unison.

“I used to drink,” Hamid started.

After drinking the entire content of the small glass, he rolled his lips inside his mouth. When they rolled back out and parted in a wide grin, Elizabeth forced her eyes to focus on anything else, because she shouldn’t be staring at him or his lips like a cartoon hungry wolf.

“You must understand two things: the first one, Annem’s family is well-known in Türkiyefor being descendants of Ottoman Sultans and for its many politicians. They are ultratraditional and awfully strict when it comes to public opinion… And second, when I was eleven, my family moved back to Istanbul after living in Canberra, and our lives changed completely… suddenly there were journalists following me and my sisters around, trying to find any dirty on us to shame Dede[1] Emir and Dayı[2] Eren, and Annem’s constant surveillance… I couldn’t leave the house by myself, except to go to school… I felt trapped. –”

“A gilded cage is still a cage”, Elizabeth remembered the words he told her once, finally realizing its meaning.

“– Until my father was assigned to the embassy at Boston and we moved again. I was fifteen, starting high school and it was like someone released me from a cage. I was free and eager to experience everything possible before being sent back to Istanbul and facing the life planned for me... Moderation wasn’t an acceptable choice.”

“That sounds like a dangerous combination,” Luke pointed out.

“It was fun and liberating. For a while, at least…” he paused, and poured himself more diet coke. “Besides drinking quite frequently without my parents’ knowledge, I’ve done a couple of other things that could be considered dangerous and imprudent, like riding motorcycles, skydiving and hitchhiking a plane.”

“You did what?” Annabelle and Luke gasped at the same time.

“Haven’t I told you that story? This is one of my proudest accomplishments.” Hamid looked around for confirmation and met the astonished faces with a wide grin. “My friends and I were at this party at school and bored out of our minds. After we had drank all the vodka we snuck in, someone suggested going to the airport because ‘how fun would it be if we could hitchhike a plane!’”

In his narrative, he used the charming tone he adopts whenever telling one of his famous anecdotes; words and cadence carefully picked to entertain, like he did at dinner the night before. This time, Elizabeth caught his act, noticing the theatrical hand gestures and smiles when he talked about his friends, sons and daughters of politicians or diplomats like himself, and suspected he was purposedly trying to divert from the original subject without giving away his intention. Most of his stories are about other people, and the ones focused on himself, usually reinforce his charming and fun personality. Humorous self-deprecation is not to be expected from him.

Briar guessed, “I bet it was you who suggested that?”

“To this day, Lewis insists it was my idea, but I swear it was Amalia’s… she wanted to go to New York, I only suggested flying would be faster. Anyway… we went to the airport, and I sweet-talked one of the flight attendants to introduce me to someone in charge of flights… we happened to come at the perfect time... Two hours later we’re on a plane to New York.” Hamid added with an ear-to-ear grin, “Bono Vox’s private jet.”

“No way!”

“How did you even–?” Luke muttered, trying to figure out what to even ask, and Hamid shrugged his shoulders, with a too proud of a smile.

“I asked nicely.”

“Did you meet Bono?” Annabelle asked.

“Unfortunately, no. But I met someone from the crew, and she got us backstage passes to the shows at Chicago and Philly, and we met the band. My friend Melissa got to sing with Bono.”

“Who’s Bono?” Theresa asked, not holding her tongue anymore.

“U2’s lead singer. Songwriter. Activist,” Annabelle replied, sounding more offended by the ignorance with each word she mouthed without recognition.

“Sings old people’s music,” Briar whispered, and Theresa giggled, drawing an exasperated sigh from Annabelle.

The more Elizabeth learns about Hamid, the harder to believe that he could not find her tedious.

“The drinking,” Edmund said, more interested in the story than anything that happened in the game so far, “if it was so amazing, why did you quit?”

Hamid’s gaze flicked to him, and he tilted his head. “Who said it was amazing?”

“Cool friends, flying in musicians’ planes, concerts… you painted a very appealing picture.” Edmund gulped the scotch in his glass.

“I see your point… I realised I cared about the thrill and adventures, and I don’t need to drink to have any of those...”

“Sounds fake,” Briar murmured to him, “but okay.”

Laughing at Briar’s jest, Hamid added, “...and there were much tastier things to put in my mouth whatsoever.”

“Now I believe you!”

“Very mature,” Annabelle complimented. “Many people abstain. And not only for religious purposes. So, to even things out, if you’re all in favour, we’ll play a round of Truth or Dare exclusively with Hamid. Whenever you don’t want to answer, you need to submit to a dare of our choice!”

“Can we still drink?” Edmund asked, and Annabelle squinted her eyes at him, and he took that as a permission to drink an entire tumbler of scotch.

“I have nothing to hide. But maybe we should make it more interesting… If I answer all your questions, you’ll submit to a dare,” Hamid said, indicating the group of friends with a wave of his hand, Annabelle looked around searching for confirmation and offered her hand.

“Agreed, –” Annabelle shook hands with Hamid. “– But no dares involving leaving the country.”

“Sounds fair, but incredibly boring.”

Briar clapped her hands and pointed a finger at Elizabeth. “Lizzy, you ask first. Don’t disappoint Lady Clara!”

“Can we ask anything?” She looked at Hamid for confirmation.

“Anything.”

Hamid’s eyes, pools of dark and warmth, locked with hers, an invitation to his inner world. She held the power to ask anything from his past, present or future. Anything.

Elizabeth pondered if she should ask a question Hamid wouldn’t want to answer, which means no dare of his in the end, or one that he would in fact answer. The second option was much more tempting to her curious nature. The only issue was coming up with one unrelated to herself or the interrupted conversation of that afternoon – something incredibly hard to do with his thumb stroking the back of her hand this gently, like it was the single most important thing he had to do this evening.

She realized they were holding hands underneath the table and couldn’t help wondering when this became such a trivial occurrence and not the kind of event capable of causing a turmoil. Nevertheless, it felt absolutely right.

Overwhelmed by infinite choices and her own fears of exposing herself, instead of diving in, she decided on dipping her toes.

“What –” She paused, cleared her throat, and started over, “What do most people assume is true about you but in fact isn’t?”

Taking a deep breath, Hamid’s free hand raised to his hair, and his fingers combed it back twice. The unusual long silence made some consider he would ask for a dare instead, judging by the gloating expressions and meaningful looks shared.

“There’s a persistent belief that I’m a playboy who treats women as trophies… disregarding their feelings...” He shifted in his place uncomfortably, as if he were sitting over thorns. “But I am anything like that. I’m not... heartless... promiscuous… or incapable of having a serious relationship because I never had one. And I hope that is not what you think of me,” he said looking into her eye and she replied with a slight shake of her head, even if occasionally she wondered if the picture painted about him was an exaggeration or matched his true self.

“Good,” he whispered, and his lips parted into a wide grin that stole her breath.

That was a perfectly good answer, wasn’t it? Unproblematic. Romantic even, if she focused exclusively on the fact he was concerned about her opinion and not that they were surrounded by people and can’t carry on this conversation... However, before her musings went far, Briar shared her strong indignation.

“It’s bloody 2018! Your sex life – or mine or anyone else’s – should be nobody’s business,” she said looking around, searching for approval, and Theresa pursed her lips, not entirely sure if the criticism wasn’t about herself, who is an avid consumer of celebrity gossip in general.

“Some take pleasure speculating… and trying to label others’ behaviours...”

“And making money out of it,” Annabelle added. “Don’t forget there’s a whole business profiting from people’s private lives. Scandal sells tabloids – or these days gets the more clicks…”

“At Türkiye, my pictures have definitely enriched some newspapers’ owners, and brought shame to my family’s name...”

“Why? Being slutty doesn’t make you a bad person!”

“I wouldn’t refer to myself like that, but I agree,” he laughed. “To be honest, I don’t really care about what they write about me... But I know it’s a privilege of being a man from a wealthy family; things would be completely different if I were gay or a woman…”

“Or both,” Annabelle pointed out.

“I like a good gossip like the next person... but I really don’t get it. What’s the matter if you like it casual? Or one-night stands? If it’s consensual, it’s nobody’s business,” Briar concluded with fire in her eyes, “Judging people by number of partners or how frequently they shag is utter tosh!”

“Well said!” Annabelle clapped and Briar bowed with a little flourish of her hands. “Now that you got it all out of your chest, can we move on? It’s your turn to ask.”

In a second, Briar’s face changed completely. She flashed the widest and most mischievous grin at Hamid.

Taking a deep breath, her lungs filled with enough air to sing the chorus to Wannabe and Annabelle, Elizabeth and Luke laughed before snapping their fingers at the rhythm. Edmund and Theresa who weren’t present when Hamid told his sisters used to dress him up as one of the Spice Girls looked utterly lost.

When her nasal voice faded, Briar pushed an imaginary microphone in his direction. “Which Spice Girl, Hamid?”

Despite the smile, he shook his head slowly and muttered words under his breath that were not the answer; Elizabeth wondered if any of those were curse words, considering his preference to swear in languages other than English.

“Sporty.” The word was pushed through his smile while he failed to look unaffected by Briar’s victorious grin.

“I knew it!” Briar cried. “Now we need visuals!”

“Not happening.”

“Don’t be so confident, Lizzy can ask your sisters...”

“Supposing she in fact knows one of my sisters, she wouldn’t do that,” he replied not missing a beat, but the teasing words might have reached the intent when Elizabeth didn’t side with him immediately.

Stealing a sideway glance at her, he only got a shrug and a non-reply in the form of a small smile.

Sipping the wine, while he insisted on the subject and the fact his sisters and Elizabeth obviously don’t know each other, she giggled against the rim of the small glass. His reasoning and insistence amused her. For a change, she got the upper hand and would enjoy every second of this. Like this wine. Sipping it bit by bit.

“Maybe I didn’t have to ask...” Elizabeth said softly putting the empty glass down.

“And you didn’t tell them?” he taunted, referring to Annabelle and Briar who were enjoying this almost as much as her. “Impossible.”

“Are you calling me a gossip now?”

“Absolutely not. But I fear you’re trying to trick me into believing you have befriended my sister.”

“Sisters,” she corrected. “And last week your aunt and two of your cousins from Adana dropped me DMs too.” Shaking his head slowly, with a teasing smile with a hint of the tip of his tongue peeking, he leaned forward, his eyes searching for any hesitation.

“Show me your mobile.”

“You don’t believe my word?”

“Frankly, no. There’s no evidence supporting your allegations, Miss Foredale. I’m afraid the court will dismiss the case,” he taunted, using legal jargons learned from TV shows.

Perhaps it was the casual atmosphere or his long nose almost touching the tip of hers, the warmth of his breath or intense gaze unwavering from her eyes while he slowly retreated... Perhaps it was a combination of all the above. Whatever it was, it encouraged her to search in her foggy brain the perfect story to convince him of the seriousness of her allegations. She remembered one of the first anecdotes Faiza and Hande shared about their younger brother after he shared a picture of her sitting at the park after jogging with the hashtag #londonsmostbeautifulsmile.

“Then how do I know about the incident with your mother’s ring?”

In slow motion, the self-satisfied smile vanished from his lips and so did the glow of his skin. While his brain processed the information, the sides of his neck and cheeks turned a darker shade.

“Yok artık[3]!” he spat. “Who told you that? Was it Faiza?”

“Stop speaking in code!” Briar cut them off, “I want to know it too!”

“Me too!” Theresa and Annabelle piped in.

“Then you’ll have to ask Hamid.”

“Is it worth?” Annabelle who would be the next asker inquired, and Elizabeth shrugged dismissively, it was in her hands to decide, but judging by his reaction it could be a question to make him yield.

The other took a moment to consider if it was the sort of knowledge worthy of her question or not and debated with Briar in hushed tones.

“Such bigmouths!” he sighed running a hand through his face. “That story is so embarrassing!”

“It’s so not! It’s cute!” Elizabeth said, and he raised his head revealing a wide grin and his skin had darkened even more, a hint of redness reached the tips of his ears. “I can’t believe I made you blush!” Elizabeth laughed and fished a handful of crisps from the bowl.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugged. “I don’t blush.”

“I also thought you didn’t...” she said offering him the bowl. “But you do. And it’s adorable.” The tip of her index finger touched his face, and the skin of his cheek was as warm as his smile, confirming her assumption. His lips spread even further, and his cheeks rounded beneath her lingering touch, dimples forming on each side of his face and eyes squinting.

“My turn,” Annabelle announced, and his attention was drawn to her. “Have you ever had a sex dream with anyone in this room?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him, and he smiled and answered quickly, no hesitation whatsoever, “Yes, I have.”

Excited cheers and teasing followed.

“Really? Who?” Briar inquired not holding her curiosity.

“That is another question,” he said, “and you already asked yours.”

“Was it me?” she pressed, “I know one can’t fake the kind of chemistry we had dancing last night, but I only see you as a friend. Please, keep me out of your dirty dreams.”

“Now you’re breaking my heart,” Hamid laughed it off, and soon the game moved on.

“Who would you rather date Donna Bowman or Felicity Holloway?” Theresa asked and leaned forward expectantly, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes not hiding the annoyance.

Hamid plastered his most alluring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“They are both attractive women, each with a particular beauty. Making me choose one over the other seems absolutely unfair, don’t you agree?”

Hamid’s words were so convincing that pleased Theresa, who nodded. Briar however didn’t miss the opportunity to tease him.

“But that’s the point. You must choose or you’re not really answering the question... And if you don’t answer, it’s time for a dare, innit?” She looked at Annabelle for confirmation, and Hamid inhaled deeply and shook his head slowly.

“Donna.”

“Oooh! She’ll be so thrilled!”

“Did you roll your eyes again?” Hamid asked Elizabeth, who looked away, but realized he had been observing her reaction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she said focusing on the breadcrumbs she was picking from the table and throwing at an empty plate, keeping to herself how the mere mention of Felicity and her minion’s names bothered her. 

“Can she do that?” Briar asked pointing at Theresa, hands typing on her mobile underneath the table.

“Theresa, you know the rules! You can’t share the answers.”

“Alright,” she put the mobile away, but only after pressing ‘send’.

“Your turn, Marlcaster.”

“I didn’t think of a question.”

Briar raised her hand in the air as if she were in school. “I have an excellent one!”

“Me too,” Theresa said and whispered something in his ear, and he grimaced.

“I’m not asking that.”

“Please! I’m dying of curiosity!”

He downed the amber liquid, and said, “You can have my question…”

Showing gratitude, Theresa kissed his cheek and addressed the other man eagerly, “Hamid, if you could kiss anyone in the entire world, who would it be?”

Unlike the other question, this time, Hamid stole a furtive glance at Elizabeth, and smiled the kind of wide and open smile that dimples his cheeks and almost makes his face glow.

There were no introductory words, flattery, or praise to women either present or absent, just a simple and direct answer.

“Elizabeth.” Her name was softly spoken, rolling out of his tongue like a melody, and her heart skipped a beat.

The intensity of Hamid’s bright and intense eyes on her was unbearable. Allowing herself a moment to process this reply, she lowered her gaze.

The kissing part wasn’t that surprising – only a few hours before he said he wanted to kiss her –, but the fact that given any option he would still choose her over any model, movie star or a childhood crush was mind-blowing! And the boldness of being this frank without assurance whether her reaction would be? She could never! Even after drinking, she would never put herself on the spotlight to the judgement and opinions of others.

Her heart was pounding louder than ever, so loud she heard nothing from the room in a while, not acknowledging the chorus of Aww and Ooh and “Kiss him!”stirred by his answer or his sigh when her hand slipped away from his, not out of displeasure but to wipe the gelid sweat damping her palms on her jeans.

“I’m baffled you’d still choose her after what happened!” Theresa blurted out, and she received confused looks in return that encouraged her to explain the point. Her words flowed in that characteristic quick pace of hers, “Considering she broke up with you to be with Ernest Sinclaire, I thought you would pick anyone else, really… Unless you are trying to win her back... are you? In that case it would be so romantic!”

“O quê?[4]” Elizabeth gasped.

Amused, Hamid glanced at Elizabeth, whose cheeks haven’t had the chance to return to their natural tawny beige tone. “You broke up with me?”

“I didn’t break up with him!” she assured Theresa.

“You’re dating both!?” Theresa’s nasal voice raised to a shrieking level, and she covered her astonishment with a hand, before her fingers resumed typing on the mobile, ignoring the previous chiding about it.

Pretending to be offended, Briar tried to stifle a giggle and asked, “I am your English best friend, and you didn’t tell me any of this?”

“Halla halla! She didn’t even tell me and I’m the boyfriend!” Hamid sighed. “Since I was in the dark, I need time to process…” His hand covered most of his face, but Elizabeth could still see the grin he was hiding underneath.

The whole thing was hilarious to Hamid and some of the presents, who cackled; even Elizabeth cracked a little smile at his acting skills when he dramatically sobbed. However, Theresa who was completely in the dark misunderstood the heaving of Hamid’s chest with real crying and expressed profound sorrow – she is a notorious gossip but not a heartless woman.

“I’m awfully sorry. Mum is right, this is a flaw of mine: I always speak too much and without minding the consequences. But I didn’t know it was a secret! I swear! Donna showed me the pictures of you,” she said pointing at Hamid and Elizabeth, “and Felicity is always ranting about you and Mr. Sinclaire. She says she’s worried about him and not jealous at all; but believe me she’s so utterly jealous that you caught his eye! And with all the buzz online, I assumed everyone knew!”

Hamid uncovered his face, and asked, “Am I the last to know?”

“Stop with this nonsense!” Elizabeth said, poking Hamid’s arm. “Tell her the truth!”

“Why are you so eager in denying it?” Hamid asked raising his gaze to meet hers, despite the lilt of laughter and the grin that wrinkled the corners of his eyes, there was something vulnerable hinted in his question, “Is it that embarrassing that someone assumes we’re dating?”

“No, it’s not – I’m not – That’s not the point,” she stuttered. Raising one index finger to request a pause, she reached the wine glass and chugged it under Hamid’s attentive gaze. She blinked quickly in a failed attempt to unblurry his face, and he took pity on her.

“Fine. Theresa, your sources are incorrect: there was no breakup because we were not dating in the first place. Therefore, Elizabeth is free to date whoever she wants, including the dashing Mr. Sinclaire,” he said quickly and turned back to Elizabeth, “Satisfied?”

“Then you confirm she is dating Sinclaire!”

“You’re impossible!” Elizabeth shook her head slowly. “What am I to do with you?”

Hamid grinned, his cheeks dimpling even further. “I have plenty of suggestions...” he whispered into her ear, and the huff of his chuckle fanned her neck, causing all the hair in her body to stand on end.

“So, are you or are you not?” Theresa asked, too eager for an answer about the Sinclaire affair.

“Are you already tired of asking me questions? Am I boring you?” Hamid asked Theresa with a mocking pout, momentarily saving Elizabeth from further questions.

“Moving on,” Annabelle clapped. “Luke, your turn. Last question.”

“That’s right,” Hamid teased, wringing his hands, “only one question and then I can reveal my dare!”

“Don’t brag before you hear Luke’s question...”

“I don’t have anything to hide.”

“We need a great question, dude.”

“Don’t worry, Liz, I got an excellent one.” Luke grinned and leaned forward to face the other man. “Who was the person you thought about the last time you got off?”

Hamid’s eyes widened when his brain processed what he was being asked, and the cocky smile vanished from his face.

“Dare,” he said firmly.

“Are you sure?” Annabelle asked for confirmation, and when he nodded, Briar and Luke high-fived.

The group moved to the couch to confabulate, while Hamid remained quiet, chewing on some crisps. To ruffle his feathers, some of the words were deliberately spoken louder.

“Naked selfie...”

“Dick pic...”

“Unsolicited dick pics are not funny!” Annabelle chided.

Cheeks reddened by the alcohol, Theresa laughed loud, “I know someone who wouldn’t mind receiving one.”

“Me too,” Briar jumped in, and Elizabeth glared at her. “I didn’t name names. Yet.” Her guffaws joined Theresa’s.

Edmund’s eyes rolled and his gaze fixed at the ceiling, and it was hard to say whichever bothered him more about the women’s exchange.

The deliberations and goading continued without stirring the desired reaction until Briar whispered in his direction, “Shave his head.”

“No one is touching my hair!” Hamid objected firmly, holding a hand up, and Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief.

“Seriously? That’s where you draw the line?” she asked, pouring herself another glass of wine.

“I'm not ashamed of my body.” His intense gaze stole her words, and she sipped the wine to have something to do with herself.

“Easy there,” he warned, trying to take the bottle away from her.

“I’m half-British,” she slurred, barely mispronouncing the word, and spilling some of the wine when she evaded his move. “I can hold my drink.”

By this point, every tiny glass gulped made her speech more slurring, and her cheeks redder.

Luke raised from his place, and announced, “We dare you to stay outside for five minutes –”

“That’s easy. I lived at Moscow,” Hamid brushed off, but Briar cut in, “Shirtless! And doing jumping jacks!”

Undeterred by the increasing level of difficulty, he got up and pulled the orange jumper over his head and the white t-shirt in one movement, and asked Elizabeth to hold them.

Everyone followed when he marched to the balcony’s door, eager to see if he would go through. When he cracked the door open, a cold drift invaded the room and Edmund’s cheeks turned rosier. The rain had stopped but the floor was wet, and Hamid visibly shivered with the gust of wind, but brushed it off when asked by Elizabeth, throwing her a wink and a smug smile.

“What if he falls?” Elizabeth mumbled to Briar, who had wrapped an arm around hers for support. “The floor is wet.”

“Then you’ll take care of him,” Briar laughed. “Just look at the bright side. And at those abs.” She exaggeratedly bit her lower lip in a suggestive way, and Elizabeth looked away.  

Meanwhile, Annabelle snapped her fingers to get Theresa’s attention. “Your mobile, please,” she said extending one hand with her palm up. “You must quit texting Donna and you can’t send pictures of Hamid to her or else you are out.”

Theresa tried to deny it and argue, but the other was firm in making her abide by the rules, and lastly, she conceded.

“I’ll return to you later,” Annabelle said tucking the mobile into her trousers pocket.

When Hamid started the jumping jacks, the others cheered and clapped – but not Elizabeth. At first, she searched for any indication he was too cold outside or hiding the discomfort of an injury from the riding incident. However, the more she looked at him, the prouder he looked with the attention. The more she stared at his bare torso, the more her hungry eyes focused on his physique and the less her brain processed anything else.

Cradled by her arms, his t-shirt and soft jumper exuded Hamid’s favourite perfume, the sensual fragrance reserved to “special occasions”, an invitation to sinful thoughts. While on the one hand, every second slipping by in the timer Luke has set in his mobile was another one her willpower prevailed against the primal urge of burying her face on his clothes; on the other hand, it meant soon the challenge would be over.

Halfway through the dare, Hamid huffed a loud breath, almost a laugh, smiled and winked at her. She bit her lower lip, watching the wind blowing against his back, dishevelling his hair.

“Do you need a napkin?” Briar whispered and her eyes darted to her face in confusion. “To wipe the drool.” Elizabeth’s hand brushed her own mouth and chin, even though she was pretty sure the other was joking.

Luke’s mobile rang, and the dare was completed.

They waved him in, and Hamid kept the door wide open, allowing the wind to blow their hairs, while making a show of saying it was absolutely agreeable outside and inviting them to the balcony to breath the evening’s fresh air. When he finally came by to retrieve his clothes, all the soft black hair in his arms was standing on end, like it did that day when she held his arm to appreciate the luxuriant scent of his perfume.

“You’re cold.”

“Will you warm me up?” he asked in a soft voice only she could hear, and the rosy on her cheeks had nothing to do with the gust of wind this time.

With a sly smile, he took a long deep breath, and flexed his muscles to make his athletic body even more evident. Standing in front of him, Elizabeth’s gaze travelled downwards from his well-defined and hairless chest to the visible V-cut in his abdomen. Her reaction seemed to please him, and he took his sweet time putting on his t-shirt.

“You should’ve asked him to strip down to his underwear!” Theresa’s voice resonated and Edmund gasped her name, almost dropping his tumbler, and Briar cackled. “Oooh! Did I say that out loud?”

Briar replied, “Maybe next round!”

Both let out loud guffaws and clinked their glasses. Theresa downed the liquid and laughed a little more by herself.

“It seems I’m a little... tipsy already.” She said pulling her dishevelled hair back. “I’m going to –” A loud hiccup interrupted her, and she burst out laughing. “Are you coming?” her whispered question to her fiancé was too loud, and he replied he would stay.

“Good night!”

Her lips missed Edmund’s and she pecked his chin before walking away.

“Didn’t I tell you, Eliza?” Edmund asked looking at his stepsister.

The woman was rubbing Hamid’s hands, who looked too pleased at her fussing over him, and stared at him confused. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind.”

Annabelle growled, “How did we run out of food?”

“Well... we’ve been here for hours... and Briar,” Luke pointed at the friend beside him, turning a bowl upside down to eat the crumbs. Briar protested, but not so vehemently, since ate most of it.

Annabelle and Edmund volunteered to bring more food. While the others chatted, Elizabeth dozed off against Hamid’s shoulder. He encircled her with his arms, bringing her closer, and she sighed contently.

Several minutes later, Edmund and Annabelle returned with half of a Bundt cake, scones, bags of crisps and more wine.

Hamid observed Elizabeth repeatedly sticking her finger on the piece of cake in front of him and licking it, even though she said she wasn’t hungry. Ignoring her protests, he insisted and fed her half the slice and a handful of onion crisps. They smiled when he jokingly pulled the crisps away before she could bite it, and even more so when she bit his finger as a joke.

Spinning an empty bottle of wine, the game resumed. Encouraged by the intimate atmosphere that settled after Theresa’s departure, the questions became increasingly personal. And even Elizabeth showed less discomfort with the questions – though maybe she was a little too tipsy to understand everything her friends were talking about.

“I thought that only happened in porn!” Edmund exclaimed after Hamid replied affirmatively to the question if he was a member of the “Mile-High Club”.

“Sometimes, the desire is too high,” Hamid joked with a gleeful smile.

“How can one even... focus... on that… with the turbulence?” Elizabeth asked. “And people around? What if someone catches you?”

“I’m not going to lie, that’s part of the thrill.”

Laughing, Briar threw a crisp at Hamid. “We should send you to horny jail!”

The bottle spun and pointed to Elizabeth, who propped her chin on one hand and barely could keep both eyes open.

“What’s your biggest turn on?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, it’s easier to point out the things that turn her off like sloppy kisses, smokers’ breath, and manipulative men, but as for turn ons, does she really have one? She can only think of one person that turns her on lately. Hamid’s image occupied her mind, his strong arms, and the way a simple touch of his hand can almost make her combust. However, she wasn’t drunk enough to say this, so she settled on the much less controversial “Making me laugh.”

“You have a clown kink or something?” Briar teased, and Elizabeth laughed.

“No, but it is... just... being funny can be really attractive...”

After a few more questions, Anabelle spun the bottle and it pointed at Hamid again.

“Oral sex: receiving or giving?” she asked him.

“I won’t deny how good receiving is,” he paused and flashed a mischievous smile at the asker, “but I’m a giver. I may travel the world, but my favourite place is between a woman’s legs.”

His answer got him an enthusiastic cheer from Brian, who nudged Elizabeth with much too force, almost knocking the glass off her hand.

“Something else we can agree on,” Annabelle said raising her glass, and he clinked his in an improvised toast.

“A skilled tongue in more ways than we thought…” Elizabeth stated and giggled to herself, receiving amused looks from the others.

“You definitely drank too much,” Edmund said, placing the bottle out of her reach, and Hamid proceeded to gently remove the glass from her hand.

“No! I’m fine!” She retrieved it and gulped the remaining deep red liquid with a grimace. “The room stopped spinning a while ago.”

The others shared knowing looks, and Annabelle proposed, “Last question! Everybody answers! If the world was ending tomorrow, and this was your last night on earth, what would you do?”

“Time to get naughty!” Briar clapped her hands.

“Not necessarily,” Annabelle said, “It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“But I want to get naughty!” Briar laughed loudly. “I’d spend my last night doing all the naughty things I’ve postponed. And, of course, I’d call my mom and tell her that I love her.”

“With that mouth?” Annabelle teased, “You should call her first!”

Loud laughter and jokes followed. However, Elizabeth couldn’t understand what they were saying. Eyelids incredibly heavy, it became a herculean task to keep them open. She let her head rest against Hamid’s shoulder again. A welcoming warmth surrounded her. Through her lashes, she saw Hamid’s arm holding her steady.

Why was I afraid before?

She blinked and their faces blurred, becoming indistinct like the unfamiliar faces of passengers when the tube is rushing past the stations. Briar addressed her, but it felt like she had been speaking through the thickest of glasses. Someone called her name, and she raised her head, searching the voice.

“What about you, Liz?” Hamid asked softly, touching the side of her face, “The world is ending tomorrow, what would you do tonight?”

Last night on Earth. There’s much to do, even more to say. Where to even begin?

“Maybe with what you want the most?” Hamid offered, and her eyes flicked to his, so adoringly staring at her. Can he read my mind, or did I say it out loud?

Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and her speech had turned much slower and broken than usual, “Alright… Let’s see… I’d tell... father I love him… and am grateful to be his daughter. And I’d do this: surround myself with people I care about... like I am now –”

Briar hugged her with one arm, and Annabelle formed a heart with her fingers, and when Edmund started talking, she cut him off with narrowed eyes.

“I’m not done,” she said, and her voice was a little louder and more slurred, “Before the world ends, I’ll call Professor Richards and tell him to go fuck himself and stick those bloody books up his bloody arse that bloody bastard –”

“Whoa! You can swear!” Hamid’s eyes widened and he laughed, drawing her attention back to him.

“You! I’d tell you that –” She buried her face on Hamid’s chest, mumbling a string of unintelligible words against his orange jumper, before taking a deep breath and looking him in the eye – or at least trying to – with a wide smile. “You smell good and have a cute belly.”

“Sorry? What did you say?”

“I like your belly. It’s wavy.”

“No, no, no! Before that!”

Ignoring his pleas, she turned around, returning to the previous train of thought.

“I want to make a bonfire. Huge.” She opened her arms to the fullest and gesticulated, accidentally hitting Hamid’s forehead with one hand. “With all Richards books I could find at the library and bookshops too. Then I’d make a bonfire in front of his house. A massive one!” She gesticulated widely again and made whooshing sounds to represent the fire.

“Liz, that would take time and sounds exhausting, go back to the loving part. That’s where you should focus your energy,” Hamid suggested, opening his arms to an inviting hug. “Surround yourself with love.”

“I can help!” Briar chimed in, and Elizabeth turned around to face her. Hamid’s exasperated sigh could be heard on the other side of the room. “I know where to get a cart!”

“A cart. That’s perfect!”

“Right? The two of us, Lizzy,” – Briar’s hands danced between the two of them – “unstoppable. Our bonfire will put Guy Fawkes’ night to shame! We burn the books and toast marshmallows!”

“I love marshmallows! Oh! You’re the best,” Elizabeth moved closer, and they hugged each other. “I love you!”

“I love you too!”

“Jealous?” Annabelle whispered to Hamid, and he clicked his tongue.

“I’d rather hear a non-drunk confession,” he whispered back, “one she would remember later.”

“Wise,” she said and patted his shoulder.

The clock on the wall marked a quarter past 1am when the first chords of “Happier” blasted from Hamid’s mobile.

Elizabeth shrugged out of the knee-length yellow cardigan, oblivious to the disaster that followed its descent. It knocked down a glass and red wine spilled pooling over the surface of the table. Raising to her feet to dance with Annabelle and Luke, she managed so much as to stumble, bump one knee on the table, swear like a polite eight-year-old and fall back down.

“You’re sloshed,” Briar laughed, while placing napkins over the spilled drink.

“I’m not,” Elizabeth denied, though the way the room swayed betrayed her statement. “Maybe a bit tipsy... I just need to lie down for a sex... Sec!” They cackled at the slip up and Elizabeth lied down on the floor.

Picking up her cardigan before it got stained with wine, Hamid held his hands to her. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. I’ll take you to your room.”

She tried to stare at his face, but it was impossible with the light over his head doting him an angel-like bright halo.

“I’m not sleeping,” she said, unwilling to admit how tired she was or disappoint her friends, “I’m dancing.” Her hands moved wildly at the rhythm of the song, and she laughed.

“Then dance with me.”

Meeting his gaze, she agreed, and he helped her up. Encircling her waist with both arms, he steadied her and swayed gently, as if they were American teenagers at one of their high school dances. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t what she meant by dancing.

“That’s not how you dance this song...” With a sudden squirm, she wiggled out of the embrace to demonstrate but her flats couldn’t find purchase in the rug.

Faster than the pull of gravity, Hamid prevented her from falling onto her buttocks again.

Briar mouthed something she couldn’t understand while Annabelle and Hamid spoke in hushed tones. She couldn’t understand a word they said but judging by the serious expressions on both their faces, she suspected it was about her.

“I’m not drunk!” she slurred, and Hamid turned his attention back to her, using one hand to take the hair away from her face.

“Of course not,” Hamid said softly, “You’re tired. It’s been a long day...”

“Yeah,” she sighed and waved him closer to whisper in his ear, “Is it impolite to go to bed before my guests?”

“Absolutely not. You can ask Annabelle, she’ll confirm. Besides, Edmund is here... He’s second-in-command.”

Settling this matter, she accepted his help, even though she wasn’t ready to part from him, still hoping she would muster the courage to steal a moment alone with him. Wobbling her way out of the room, she leaned on Hamid, wrapping her arms around his midsection, and giggled. This right there was happiness! No worries in her mind, and Hamid beside her.

Walking through the long and dimly lit corridor, Elizabeth kept singing and Hamid insisted that she remained quiet as a mouse. The best he got was a compromise in humming the songs instead of singing out loud.

Without any accidents or unwanted encounters with judgemental family members, they made into the main area, spotting the bright lights from the crystal chandelier downstairs. The family wing was just ahead, after the staircase, and he only needed to get her inconspicuous to her room. There were several doors on both sides of the hallway and Elizabeth stalled talking about random paintings and asking about his room instead.

“Which one, Liz?” he insisted using his lowest tone possible, and she blinked and tried to make her eyes focus on his face. “Is it this one?” He pointed at the first door on their right.

“I don’t know. What d’you think?”

“Not much, since I’ve never been to your room...” he chuckled and pulled her closer so she would not roam and stumble into a console table nearby, risking breaking one of her grandmother’s precious bibelots.

“Briar knows my room,” she said, “Let’s go back. And we can dance some more.”

Ignoring the arm holding her, she suddenly turned around and stumbled forward. Hamid caught her and couldn’t help giggling too. His apt fingers pulled the hair away from her face, and she could anticipate how close his lips were. But when her gaze focused on his face, she found neither the sight of his beautiful smile nor those bedroom eyes he had been generously offering her this evening. His eyes were wide, and he looked somehow shocked.

Did I do something wrong?

He wasn’t truly looking at her, she realized, but at something over her shoulder.

There was no time to ask anything. Hamid pushed her back into the corridor they came from. Looking over his shoulder, he pushed her into one of the small alcoves in the hallway, and her back hit the frame of the portrait of one of her ancestors while her mind raced.

Is that a portrait of Viscount Vincent, the one father was named after? Oh, wait! That’s not what I was supposed to think about! I need to ask what he’s doing. Is he about to kiss me?

The idea was suddenly too appealing. Her heart hammered inside her chest and her fingers closed around the soft fabric of the jumper, and she expected his lips to level with hers.

Instead of the expected pleasing touch of his mouth, a hand covered her puckered lips. Her eyes searched for an explanation, and with his free hand he pressed an index finger against his own lips to request her to be silent.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered into her ear, and her eyes widened. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs became too loud to ignore.

Was it grandmother coming back home? Her blood froze. The idea of being caught like a misbehaving teenager, almost sobered her up, until she remembered she wasn’t a teenager anymore. This was not like that one-time sneaking drunk into her friend Renata’s home without waking her mother. She’s old enough to drink. There’s nothing wrong going on – if you don’t consider the fact Hamid is acting odd and not kissing her when they are finally alone – and even the prim and proper lady Dominique gets a little tipsy from time to time and laughs in an unladylike fashion in the company of Mrs. Sinclaire and their friends – even though she prefers her granddaughter not to mention that fact.

However, Hamid seemed determined in his mission, even if it meant trying to hide them both in a place that could fit only half of her body and the light over the portrait was probably giving away their presence. But why would she protest when his entire body was pressed against hers like this?

Hamid’s chest heaved and his breath fanned her face. She looked up, trying to meet his gaze, but he was too focused on the incoming presence to notice her attempt at making flirty eye contact.

Hand still over her mouth, he whispered, “It’s your father.”

Somehow, he pressed even closer, no space left between them or the wall, and an involuntary urge to laugh grew inside her. As if reading her thoughts or the meaning behind the shake of her shoulders, Hamid’s eyes widened.

Looking over Hamid’s shoulder, she caught a glimpse of her father’s back, going up the stairs and straight towards his room. Fortunately, the sound of footsteps faded, and a door closed in the distance with a barely audible click.

His hand moved away, and her lips followed instinctively, but he didn’t seem to notice the aftereffect, still looking to where Lord Vincent disappeared.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said softly, his gaze flicking back to hers, “but I thought you wouldn’t want to meet anyone.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, the frame still pressed against her back.

“Let’s go back and–”

“Third door on the left!” she blurted out, suddenly wanting to get there as soon as possible.

“Are you positive?”

She pushed his chest freeing herself and pulled him by the hand. Hamid used his other hand to steady her while following her bouncing confident steps down the corridor.

When they reached the door, as a precaution to not end up bursting into the wrong room, Hamid asked to check if it was empty. Cracking the door just enough to let the hallway lights flood it, they both peeked inside.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“My room!”

“Not so loud,” he pleaded, and she held his hand again, pulling him inside with her. “Come in!”

His eyes roamed free for a few seconds, taking in the decorations and little details that distinguished the room from the others before the lights were dimmed. His gaze moved again, finding Elizabeth leaning against the desk with eyes barely opened.

“We’re here… alone…”

Were it anybody else, Hamid would have no doubt what that meant. But in Elizabeth’s case, he assumed the lights were hurting her eyes and her legs were faltering. And that’s the reason he offered to come and assist her through the night. She drank too much.

“Do you need help to –” Hamid stopped, thinking about the best phrasing in this situation. How to suggest aiding her in changing her clothes or taking her to the bathroom without sounding like a total creep? Freshen up, perhaps? Scratching the back of his head, he felt self-conscious about the entire situation. It was not often he needed to think through how to offer this kind of help to the utterly shy woman in front of him who takes his breath away even after an eleven-hour flight, with wrinkled clothes and messy hair. Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to come here in the first place. It’s different when it’s not one of your sisters you’ll offer help with this sort of thing.

The silence stretched and Elizabeth didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, instead, she kicked her flats and said, “You owe me a dance.”

Fifteen minutes ago, she was asleep in his shoulder and now she had an urge to dance. How was that even possible?

Walking closer, she reached his hands and her fingers intertwined with his. Her hips swayed from side to side in the rhythm of a mysterious tune she hummed.

“Don’t you prefer to go to bed?”

“Are you trying to bed me?” she tried to wink suggestively but slowly blinked instead.

He laughed, considering what sober Elizabeth would think about this phrasing and exchange.

“Right now,” he said as softly as the touch of his hand on her arm, “my only concern is the hangover you’ll have.”

“Chato! Muito chato![5]” She poked his chest. “You are spoiling the fun, mister Osmanoğlu.”

Holding a laughter, he walked away and filled a glass with water and brought back to her.

“First, drink this. Then we dance.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Please. You’ll thank me later.”

Her eyes flicked from Hamid’s face to the glass, and she gulped the whole content. With the sleeve of her blouse, she wiped the water running down her chin, and he refrained from using his thumb to remove the remaining drops underneath her lower lip, and removed the glass from her hand.

“I’ll bring another glass. It’ll help with the hangover...”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not drunk!” she huffed in protest.

“I have a feeling you'll need aspirins too. Do you have any?”

“I don’t know...” she shrugged.

“Can I take a look around?”

“Are we dancing now?” she asked following him, and he held her arms gently.

“Stay here,” he helped her sit on the bed, “very still until I come back.”

“Are you leaving me?”

“Just for a second. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Everybody says that, and they lie,” she sighed, closing her eyes, and let her body fall back on the bed.

The en-suite was his best shot at finding medicines, therefore he began his search there.  

When Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open, she was alone in the room. Dragging her feet, she managed to reach the wardrobe and pick a load of clothes, which were thrown at the bed. With little effort, the long-sleeved blouse was pulled over her head, and she was too focused working on removing her pants to notice the footsteps returning from the en-suite.

“I've found the aspirins,” Hamid announced while walking into the room. The unexpected sight of Elizabeth half-undressed caused him to stop suddenly, and he almost dropped the glass of water. “Why are you striping?” he gaped, and immediately turned around.

“Hamid!” she cried and stumbled back on the bed, jeans freed from her foot and flying over her head. The mobile inside her pocket tumbled to the ground with a dull thump. “I’m changing,” she said sitting on the bed, and folding her arms in front of her chest to cover herself.

“You should have warned me.”

“You were gone.” Getting up, she pulled the plaided pants up, and hopped once to adjust it.

“I told you I was looking for aspirins.” Sighing, he placed the glass on the nightstand and peeked over his shoulder, after she kept mumbling unintelligible words in Portuguese.

“Do you need help?” he asked without looking at her, and definitely not peeking at the pink lacy bra whose sight his brain was too fast to imprint.

“I need only to take my bra. Don’t turn around!”

“No! Leave the bra! Please!” Back turned to her, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.  

“But it’s uncomfortable...”

“You just take pleasure in torturing me, don’t you?” he asked looking up and she didn’t know if he was talking to her or to God.

“Just a second…”

She finally unclasped the hooks and did her best to slip the straps off her shoulders, and pulled it from inside one sleeve and then the other, and finally removed it from underneath her shirt and hid in the pile of clothes.

“You’re absolutely killing me here, Liz!”

“Okay... I’m done.”

Hamid looked at her, and even though the pink plaid shirt of the pyjamas was buttoned incorrectly with a few buttons missing the right holes, she looked stunning with her long hair cascading down her shoulders. Getting up from the bed, she danced around the room in fuzzy socks, slowly getting closer to where he was standing. He couldn’t hide the smile when she pulled a complex set of steps without stumbling once.

“Dance with me?” she asked, offering her hand and a small smile, and he accepted. “We need a song!” she announced and started patting her legs. “What’s wrong with these pockets?”

“There are none. You changed.”

“Right! Give me your mobile!”

He obliged, depositing his mobile in her palm, but not without remarking that she was a very bossy drunk. Her fingers moved over the screen, and she stared at it in confusion.

“You do it,” she said returning the mobile, “I can’t read Turkish...”

“It’s in English. And the icons look the same...”

His fingers glided quickly over the screen, searching for a mellow song to lull her to sleep. After considering the options in one of his “date night playlists”, he selected ‘Sunrise’ by Norah Jones. He hit play and placed the phone over the nightstand, returning to where she was standing.

The melody and the singer’s soft voice filled the room, and Hamid placed his hands gently on her waist.

“This is nice,” she said softly, and he agreed.

Unexpectedly, she closed the distance he had purposefully put between them by throwing her arms around his shoulders. Tilting her face up, she nuzzled his neck, and his heartbeat picked up.

Taking a deep breath, her perfume invaded his nostrils. When the tip of her nose brushed against his sensitive skin on a path to his jaw, he shivered, overwhelmed by the sensations her closeness stirred. He could no longer hear the music, only focusing on their breathing.

When his eyes fluttered open, Elizabeth was on her tiptoes, a hand on his shoulder for support, and determination in her eyes. Deflecting her attempt to kiss him, he tilted his face up, but she rested a hand on his cheek and tried again.

Grabbing her hands with gentleness, he rested them on her sides and pulled away, being met by her offended glare.

“What's wrong, Hamid?” she mumbled, “Have you changed your mind?”

“Liz, you are drunk,” he whispered.

“And I really want to kiss you.”

These words, he has been wanting to hear them for weeks, but he cannot let himself trust in them now, not when she is inebriated like this. His heart aches with the disappointment in her eyes when he doesn't allow her to approach.

His next words are chosen carefully.

“If you'll still feel the same way tomorrow, say one word and we'll kiss until we're both out of breath.”

Her lower lip quivered, and she averted her gaze. “What if this is the only way I can tell you that?”

He cradled her face and tilted it up so she could look into his smiling eyes. “Our first kiss should be special and memorable, like what we have, and not a drunken whim... I have a feeling we’ll talk about it for the years to come… and I believe this is not the first kiss we deserve nor the story you’ll want to tell…”

Lowering her eyes, her cheeks were reddened by embarrassment and he gently kissed her forehead.

“We have time. And if you don’t mind, I still wish to dance with you.”

Elizabeth allowed him to encircle her waist and bring her closer again. While they swayed slowly, her face rested on his chest and her hands moved up and down his back. Her shoulders shook with her giggles and Hamid could not refrain his curiosity anymore. Pulling away, he looked down at her face. “What is so funny, canım benim[6]?”

“Your jumper is so soft. I like it.”

“I’m pleased that you do.”

“Take it off.”

“Excuse me?” he stopped swaying completely and stared at her.

“I want to borrow it. It seems so warm...”

“You want to undress me to borrow my clothes?” She nodded. “That’s... rather unexpected. It’s the first time I receive such a proposition...”

“Can I have it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I have a feeling, if I lent you, I’ll have to clean it from vomit and it’s a brand new and very expensive jumper.”

She pouted, but he remained firm.

“Then I crave to see your…” she said, gesticulating vaguely in front of his chest, “body... Show me.”

“It’s too late to objectify me.” He twirled her and deftly pulled her back to his chest, and she snuggled. “I’m sure we can find something as soft as this one in your own closet. Are you cold?”

Yawning, Elizabeth rested her head against his chest, just as he wished.

Taking the cue, he slow-danced her towards the bed and helped her sit down.

“Will you stay?” He nodded, and she smiled. “Good. I want to lay my head on your chest.”

“The jumper. I got it.” He said while collecting the clothes splayed on the bed to put over the desk.

Giggling, she crawled to the middle of the bed and threw a glance at him over her shoulder. “It’s not the only reason.”

Pulling the covers up, she invited him, and Hamid’s eyes fixed at the ceiling and a string of foreign words left his mouth.

“Is that your prayer before bed?”

A huff escaped his nose, and he smiled. “Sort of...”

Taking off his shoes and his jumper, he sat on the edge of the bed and turned off all the lights, except the lamps on the nightstands. He looked at her over his shoulder and laid on the bed over the covers. Elizabeth quickly moved closer and rested her head on his chest. His steady heartbeats pounding beneath her palm.

“This is nice,” she whispered, “Are you comfy?”

“Very much,” he replied, playing with the curls of her long hair.

“Good. It’s important to keep guests comfy. That’s what my grandmother always says.”

“I cannot picture her ever saying comfy, but alright.”

She chuckled and the laughter merged into muffled sounds against his chest.

“I didn’t understand a word you said, Liz.”

“Which bone did you break?”

“Bones. Left arm, the tips of two toes on my left foot and the big toe on the right foot –” he lifted his right hand and brought closer to her face “– and this little finger here.”

“How?”

“Skating, football and trying to teach myself an ancient martial art.”

She took his hand in hers and observed his fingers. “Which martial art?”

“I tried to break wood like Bruce Lee.”

Her head shook when she giggled, and her hair tickled his arm, Hamid couldn’t imagine a more delightful sound coming from her mouth. Actually, he could, but he pushed the idea away.

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“Aw... So, baby!” she said with a baby voice, and adjusted herself on the bed to look him in the eye. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Excuse me?”

“The last question. Why picking the dare if you have nothing to hide?”

“Don’t you know?” he asked softly, “My answer was obvious to everyone present, but it would make you more uncomfortable. And I didn’t want that...”

“Oh,” she gasped. “Sorry. I didn’t… Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I... I don’t know… I… you were cold because of me.”

“I didn’t mind. And you rewarded me with plenty of attention… I think it was more than worthy it. Now, sleep. Goodnight, aşkım[7],” he said softly and kissed the top of her head.

“What did you say?”

“Goodnight, Liz.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“All that alcohol is disturbing your hearing.”

Ten minutes later, she was snoring with a hand over his chest. He held and kissed her hand before removing it. Considering she'll probably need to go to the bathroom and bathe, it was probably for the best to text Annabelle and propose her to change places with him. Carefully, Hamid lifted her arm and moved his legs first, his feet soundless touching the carpeted floor. When he stood up, her voice sounded hoarse behind him.

“Don’t go, Hamid. Please.”

Her face was illuminated by the soft light from the lamp. With her eyes closed, she reached for the pillow he had been lying on and held it tight. “I don’t want to be alone,” she mumbled, “I’m tired of being alone.”

Notes:

[1] Dede – Turkish word that means grandfather.

[2] Dayi – Turkish word that means uncle from the mother’s side of the family.

[3] Yok artık – Turkish – similar in this context to “No way”.

[4] O quê? – Portuguese – means "What?"

[5] Chato! Muito chato! – Portuguese – it means boring! Very boring!

[6] Canım benim – Turkish – term of endearment that means “my soul” or in the context “my dear”.

[7] Aşkım – Turkish – used as a term of endearment “my love”.

[eekub988]

last day of sweeney revival on broadway 💈🪒 !!!

IM SO SAD ITS GOING AWAY :(. but i truly do love this show so much. i saw it for the first time ever a few weeks ago and it completely blew me away. everything about it was stunning and the acting was incredible. ive never loved the songs from a musical so much and ive never felt so inspired to write or even act in something! (even though im a crew member of the shows i do…) maria bilbao, daniel yearwood, sutton foster, joe locke, and SO many more were all incredible and im so thankful to have gotten the chance to see it. I truly do hope it does go on tour some point next year too !! (also hoping my school performs it because i would LOVEEEE that)

even if the show is gone i will still be sweeney posting :-)

[jgroffdaily]

Jonathan’s speech to Sutton Foster and guests at the Sardi’s portrait unveiling. TikTok from Theatrely.

Jonathan’s speech

In 2004, 20 years ago, I moved to New York. Sutton was on Broadway in Little Women, and I was waiting tables at the Chelsea Grill in Hell’s Kitchen on 9th Avenue between 46th and 47th.

I never had any formal training and I never went to college. I didn’t have a degree or a student ID but I was taking Beginner’s Jazz at the Broadway Dance Centre and I had a little student ID from the Broadway Dance Centre.

And so… hi Patina!!! It’s giving, it’s giving!! And so I had a student ID from the Broadway Dance Centre, so I would go to, it was formerly the Virginia Theatre now the August Wilson Theatre, before a double, a waiting tables double, on the Sunday where I would work two shifts, on a Saturday night, I would take my Broadway Dance Centre student ID and I would get tickets to see Sutton Foster. I don’t want to freak you out!

But I would use my ID and get tickets to see you and in addition to your phenomenal talent, and your skill, and your voice, and everything, I was so struck by the way that you watched people you were on stage with, and your level of presence, and attention, and I would watch on a Saturday night you, and then on Sunday, when I’m waiting tables, I’m going to have this same level of presence and attention with all of these people that Sutton gives to people on stage.

And it was one of many life-changing revelations that I learned from watching you.

And so I wanted to say that I’m so moved by all of you coming to this moment, and I want to say that getting the opportunity to look you in the eyes,whether it has been on Zoom with Eytan for the last couple of years, whether it has been with people I have known for 20 plus years. What’s up Timbers is here!

Getting the chance to have conversations and to hear you and watch you and to be in your presence has been the most meaningful, incredible thing in my life and has changed my life.

So thank you all for everything you have given me over the last 20 years, and your presence, and I just love you all so much. I feel tickled that you are all here for this unveiling and thank you so much for having me.

[the-sparkling-theater-kid]

Bootleg Hunting

I’m looking for bootlegs! I was wondering if anyone has any bootlegs of the following shows with the following casts. There are so many shows with casts I want to see but sadly never got the chance to. I’d love if anyone has any! All bootlegs must be on drive or youtube since that’s how I like to watch them.

Sweeney Todd

-Aaron Tveit as Sweeney Todd, Sutton Foster as Mrs. Lovett, and Joe Locke as Tobias

-Jeanne De Waal as Mrs. Lovett

Moulin Rouge

-Derek Klena as Christian and Jojo as Satine

-Aaron Tveit as Christian and Jojo as Satine

-Casey Cott as Christian and Courtney Reed as Satine

-Derek Klena as Christian and Courtney Reed as Satine

Hadestown

-Original Broadway Cast

-Lola Tung as Eurydice and Jordan Fisher as Orpheus

Jagged Little Pill

-First national tour original cast

Dear Evan Hansen

-Gaten Matarazzo as Jared

Mean Girls

-Original Broadway cast

-Reneé Rapp as Regina George

Frozen

-Ryan McCartan as Hans

The Great Gatsby

-2023 Paper Mill Playhouse with Jeremy Jordan and Eva Noblezada

-Original Broadway Cast

Gutenburg!

-Josh Gad and Andrew Rannells (Broadway 2023/24)

Chicago

-Ariana Madix as Roxie and Robyn Hurder as Velma

Back to the Future

-Casey Likes as Marty McFly

The Outsiders

-Original Broadway Cast

-Pre-Broadway

The Great Gatsby

-Paper Mill Playhouse

-Original Broadway Cast