#choicesprompts

[tessa-liam]

Chance of a Lifetime

Chance of a Lifetime 

Thank you @kyra75 for your ask -- prompt #2, Rainy/Snow Day for @choicesprompts -- Flufftober event! 

Choices Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2 -- timeline/the engagement tour in Paris 

Pairing:               Liam Rys x Riley Brooks (F!MC) 

Rating:                mature 

Category:           fluff, one-shot, ask/prompt 

Words:                 2.4K, with sprinkles of Canon

A/N1: not Beta'd, please excuse all errors. 

AN2: my submission for@choicesmonthlychallenge Prompts: pets/holding hands/laughter 

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Stretching her arms over her head, Riley slowly opened one eye as she heard the familiar knock on her cabin door. The morning sun shone through the train window and across her bed. She softly smiled and swung her legs over the side, her feet touching the cool floor. She yawned and walked over to the door, pulling it open. 

"Rise and shine, queen-to-be!" Maxwell Beaumont was his usual jubilant self. "Did you sleep well, little blossom? I brought you some breakfast!" 

The rich aroma of medium roast coffee hit her senses while Chance jumped up excitedly at the smell of pancakes and bacon. ‘Arf ... Arf ...’ 

“Ah, yes. My entrance is welcomed by the corgi choir." 

"That smells amazing. Thank you soooo much, Max." 

"You are very welcome, Your Majesty," Maxwell winked, giving a little bow and grinning at her. "You'd better hurry and get ready." 

The Royal court was in Paris, France; today's event ... the Royal tea party.

Riley took the tray from Maxwell, and Chance sat at her feet. "Good morning, little pup," Maxwell cooed, as Chance happily accepted a pet and scratch behind his ears. 

"So, are you ready for afternoon tea with the former queen?" Maxwell asked. 

"Yeah, I guess. She's not exactly my favorite person, but... I'm still curious." 

"She's a formidable woman," Maxwell shuddered. 

"But on the bright side, this could be the perfect opportunity to corner her about her involvement with the scandal and get your answers!" 

"I hope you're right," Riley sighed, slipping Chance a small piece of bacon.  

"At a public event, she'll be caught off guard! She won't be able to run off or dodge you."  Max added.

"And if she's not forthcoming, we might be able to do a little digging with the other nobles at the tea party." 

"That's the spirit!" Maxwell grinned. "If you ever need a little extra confidence, you know who to call." 

"Yes. Thank you for everything, Max." 

"Of course. But first, get ready for the day! We don't want to be late!" 

‘Arf!’ Chance barked, agreeing with him. 

"Can Chance come?" Riley wondered aloud. 

"I wish he could, but the venue doesn't allow pets. I'll bring him along to the duchy later, though." 

"Okay, that's good, thanks, Max." 

"Now, go and get ready. Don't worry about a thing. I've got the corgis covered. See you at the tea party!" Maxwell gave Riley a mock salute before he closed her door behind him. 

After finishing her breakfast and a quick shower, Riley pulled out a gorgeous light blush dress with a delicate floral print. She applied her makeup, dried her hair, then snapped a gold barrette into place. 

She stepped out of the train and went into the waiting limousine. After a short drive, Riley arrived at the extravagant tea party at an uptown Parisian hotel. It was a beautiful spring day, and the hotel was decorated with the finest flower arrangements. 

Riley entered the formal tearoom; hearing soft, elegant music and people's chatter. The room was decorated with luxurious chandeliers and intricate floral arrangements. Tables were covered with fine linen tablecloths, and chairs were upholstered in plush velvet. A small orchestra was playing softly in the corner, and servers were carrying trays laden with exquisite tea sets and delicious-looking cakes. Riley recognized a few ladies and gentlemen from the court, but everyone else was a mystery. 

She spotted Madeleine and Hana chatting at the far end of the hall. As she approached, Madeleine spotted her and quickly ended the conversation with Hana. 

"Lady Riley, its good of you to join us."  

"This is lovely; I am drowning in ruffles," Riley quipped. 

"I'm afraid that's one of the finer points of an elegant event like this one. To be honest, I wouldn't expect you to appreciate it lady Riley, so don't strain yourself." 

"Oh, we wouldn't want that, would we?" Riley countered, rolling her eyes. 

"Well, do try to enjoy yourself." Madeleine sauntered off before Riley could say anything else. 

"Wow. That was... nice." Riley responded sarcastically under her breath. Stepping to the side, trying to read the place cards, she bumped into someone. 

"Well, hello. What a pleasure to see you here, Lady Riley. You look stunning, as always." Liam smiled, expressing tenderness as he kissed her cheek.

"Liam! Thank you. It's great to see you, too! I didn't think you'd be here." 

"My schedule's been quite busy lately. I am only here to make the opening remarks. I was actually hoping to spend some time with you after this event." 

"That would be wonderful." Riley answered, delightedly. 

"It's been too long. I'd love to hear how you're doing." 

"Liam, ...wishing I could kiss you right now." 

"Lady ... Riley you shouldn't say such things." Liam murmered as he looked at her hungrily, his eyes sweeping over her face. 

"Maybe I'm hoping you'll get a little reckless."  Riley whispered.

“Maxwell mentioned that you recently adopted a puppy.” 

Riley’s eyes lit up, a smile tugging at her lips. 

"Oh, yeah, his name is Chance. He's a little ball of orange and white fluff. He was lost when Maxwell found him.” 

"That sounds wonderful. I'm glad you're enjoying his company." 

"He's a really good boy. He's so friendly and happy. He loves to play, and he's really good at fetching." 

"I can't wait to meet him. Maybe I'll even steal him from you," Liam teased. 

"You can try, but I'm pretty sure he'd choose me," Riley shot back, her eyes sparkling with mirth. 

"I would love to meet him sometime. In fact, we could spend the afternoon together at the park."  

"That sounds lovely." 

Noticing dignitaries walking towards them, behind Riley, Liam sighs regrettedly,

"I fear our time alone is coming to an end ... I better greet these guests. But, please wait for me. I don't want to delay any longer to spend some time with you. Let's go after the tea party." 

"Okay."  Riley beamed

"There's a break in the tour schedule tonight so I can slip out for the night. See you later?" Liam looked at her pleadingly. 

"Yes, Liam ... later." 

Riley felt the heat rise in her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach as Liam kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger on her cheek.   

 Squeezing her hand, Liam turned away to greet the nobles.  

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Placing the linen table napkin on her lap, Riley’s attention was pulled to the sound of Madeleine's voice as she stepped in front of a microphone on the dais. As she begins her formal address to the court, Olivia slid into the chair next to Riley. 

“I never liked her.” 

“You don't like anyone, Liv.” 

“True, but I especially dislike her.” 

“Oh, dear, let's get something to drink.” Hana responds trying to change the subject of conversation. 

“Of course, let's engage in frivolous social conversation and engage in witty banter.” Olivia snidely responds. Her mood quickly turning despondent as she watched the King address the room. 

Riley noticed her abrupt change in mood as her expression shifted to sadness as she watched Liam across the room. 

“Olivia, are you okay?” Riley asked in a whisper as Olivia shakes her head, “No ... he's engaged to Madeleine and in love with you ... I can't help how I feel about him, can I?” 

"Olivia, I think --"

Abruptly standing up from the table, “at least I still have my pride. Just let me leave with it.” 

Olivia walked out without looking back. Hana watched her leave with a concerned look on her face. “I wonder what that was about.” 

Riley bit her lip as she turned her gaze to regard Hana.

“I hope she's able to sort things out. She's been through so much."

"Speaking of which ... how are you doing, Riley?” 

“I'm holding up okay,”  Riley sighed, seeing the opportunity to talk to Queen Regina.

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After a disappointing conversation with the queen mother, and later, saying goodbye to Hana ...

Riley looked up to see Liam waiting for her at the front entrance, appearing eager to spend some time together.

Riley couldn't help but smile as she approached him.

"Your Majesty," she dipped into a small curtsy, smiling coyly.

"Lady Riley," Liam greeted her, a smile lighting up his face.

As he escorted Riley to his SUV, Liam leaned close and softly spoke,

"we'll be having company." Liam chuckled at her confused look, as the sliding passenger door opened. 

Riley peeked inside and saw a fluffy ball of orange and white fur curled up on the back seat. "Chance!" 

Chance's ears perked up at the sound of her voice. He jumped out of the car, barking happily. He jumped around her, wagging his tail so fast that his entire butt shook. 

Riley laughed, dropping to her knees. Chance jumped into her lap, licking her face. 

Liam grinned. "Looks like he missed you."

"Aw, I missed you, too."

Arriving at a Parisian dog park, the crisp autumn air filled Riley's lungs as she breathed deeply. Puffy, white and gray clouds were overhead, and the trees were ablaze with red, orange and yellow around you.

Riley and Liam walked hand-in-hand, Chance trotting ahead of them. The leaves crunched under their feet, and the sounds of children playing nearby filled the air. 

"It's such a beautiful day," Riley remarked, looking around. 

"It is," Liam agreed. "Autumn is my favorite season. I love the changing colors of the leaves, and the way the air feels chilled." 

Riley looked over at Liam, admiring the way his blue eyes shone in the sunlight. "I love the way you see the world, Liam." 

"Likewise. You make me want to see everything in a new light." 

They continued walking, taking in the beauty of the park. Chance ran ahead, chasing birds and squirrels. 

As they rounded a bend, Riley spotted a man and his dog. She watched as the man tossed a ball, and the dog darted after it. The dog returned, the ball in his mouth, and the man pet him lovingly. 

"That's what I want," Riley said suddenly. "To have a relationship with Chance like that." 

"You will," Liam assured her. "Chance loves you, and you're already doing a great job with him. You're a natural." 

As they reached the center of the park, Riley looked up. The sky was now darker; the sun hidden by the clouds.

"I wish we could just stay here, in this moment," Riley breathed. "It's perfect." 

"It is." Liam gazed into her eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Riley leaned closer, and Liam closed the distance between them. Their lips met, and Riley felt her heart flutter. Liam's lips were soft and warm, and Riley sighed contentedly. 

The moment was interrupted by the sudden downpour of rain. Riley squealed and grabbed Liam's arm. 

"Let's get under the gazebo," Liam chuckled, bending down to pick up Chance.

They ran to the shelter of the gazebo, laughing and wiping the rain from their faces. 

"Well, that was unexpected," Riley giggled. 

"I'll say," Liam laughed. 

Riley wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. This time, the kiss was deeper, more passionate. 

They stayed under the gazebo, kissing, as the rain fell around them. It was a perfect moment, and Riley never wanted it to end. 

"Lady Riley," Liam breathed. 

"Hmm?" 

"You're getting wet." 

"I am." 

"And you don't even seem to care." 

"I don't." 

Liam laughed, shaking his head. "What am I going to do with you?" 

"I can think of a few things," Riley grinned, kissing him again. 

Liam returned the kiss fervently, wrapping his arms around her tightly. They stayed under the gazebo, the rain pouring down around them, lost in each other. 

They pulled apart reluctantly as Chance barked and ran onto the grass and runs quickly back over to them, with a ball in his mouth. 

"It seems he's ready for a game of fetch," Liam chuckled. 

"I'm ready, too," Riley said, winking at Liam. 

"Let's play." 

Riley tossed the ball for Chance, and they both laughed as they joined the chase, returning to the downpour outside of the gazebo.

Riley giggled as she spun around, her arms extended. Liam grabbed her hands and pulled her close, the rain dripping from their hair.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Liam stroked her cheek and gently moved her hair behind her ear.

Riley's breath caught in her throat.. She didn't know what to say.

"Liam," she whispered.

Liam leaned down, his lips brushing hers. Riley's heart raced, and she kissed him back, the rain falling around them. Liam's hands were warm on her back, and she pressed herself closer to him, deepening the kiss.

It was the most perfect moment Riley could have imagined. She didn't want it to end.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the park. The rain had stopped, and the air smelled fresh and clean. Riley and Liam were walking hand-in-hand, Chance trotting along beside them. 

"Today was wonderful," Riley said. "Thank you, Liam." 

"I should be the one thanking you," Liam replied. "You've brought so much happiness into my life." 

"You deserve all the happiness in the world, Liam," Riley said, smiling up at him. 

Liam leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. Riley's heart fluttered, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. 

"I want to show you something," Liam murmured, breaking the kiss. 

"What is it?" 

"Come on." Liam took her hand and led her down a path, Chance following close behind. 

"Where are we going?" Riley asked, her curiosity piqued. 

"It's a surprise." Liam grinned, and Riley's heart skipped a beat. 

They walked through the park, the sunset painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Riley could see the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and the streets of Paris were bustling with activity. 

"Close your eyes," Liam said. 

"Okay." Riley did as he asked, trusting him completely. 

"Now, take my hand and step forward." 

Liam's hand was warm and strong, and he guided her carefully. After a few steps, he stopped. 

"Can I open my eyes?" 

"Not yet," Liam chuckled.

Riley waited patiently, the anticipation building. 

"Okay," Liam said. "Open your eyes." 

Riley opened her eyes, and gasped. They were standing at the edge of the lake, and the water reflected the sky perfectly. The colors were vibrant, and the Eiffel Tower was lit up, casting a golden glow over everything. 

Riley's hand was warm in his. Liam glanced at her and smiled. They were walking through the park, the stars twinkling above. Chance was trotting alongside them, his tongue hanging out. 

"It's such a beautiful night," Riley remarked, looking up at the sky. 

"It is," Liam agreed. "Though I am a bit hungry." 

"I'm starving," Riley laughed. "All that exercise has me worked up an appetite." 

"Let's head back to the train, then." Liam started leading them towards the edge of the park. 

"Oh, no, you don't," Riley teased, tugging him back. "I have a better idea." 

"What's that?" 

"Let's grab some food first and then bring it back to the train." 

"Sounds like a plan," Liam grinned. 

"There's a little café not far from here. We could get something to go." 

"Perfect." 

"C'mon, Chance," Riley called. "You're eating too!"

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@choicesprompts @flufftober @lovealexhunt @choicesficwriterscreations @angelasscribbles @kyra75 @choicesmonthlychallenge @choicescommunityevents

[choicesprompts]

Smutember 2024 Master List

Thanks so much, @jerzwriter for being the only participant lol. I didn't manage to participate in my own event but am glad the prompts inspired someone!!!

Mine by @jerzwriter OH

Kiss and Make Up by @jerzwriter OH

Falling For You by @jerzwriter CoP

Forbidden Fruit by @coffeeheartaddict2 OH

[angelasscribbles]

Round Robin Chapter 1: Welcome

This is still untitled and with no mood board because I have no idea where it's going lol.

Word Count: 448

Next writer: @christina-stark-skarlet-stileto

Bertrand Beaumont stepped up to the podium and surveyed the conference room full of malcontents with equal parts excitement and trepidation. This was the most ambitious project of his career.

They were in an undisclosed location. He had a full production team and camera crew on standby. He was acutely aware that the results of this endeavor would make or break his PR firm. But he had complete confidence in his staff.

Tapping on the microphone, he began. “Settle down, please. I understand that everyone in this room is powerful in some way. You’re royalty, celebrities, and top performers in your field. Doctors, CEO’s, etc. You’re not used to being told what to do. I get it. However…”

He waited for the grumbling to die down before continuing. “You’re all here for the same reason. You’ve become a liability for your family, your agency, your recent movie. You’re a PR nightmare for whoever and whatever you’re attached to.”

This time the grumbles were less angry and more conceding.

Bertrand smiled reassuringly. “We’re here to change that. We’re here to help you. I know none of you are accustomed to taking much direction however, for many of you, this is your last chance before you’re fired, blacklisted from Hollywood, or exiled by your families.”

The former crown prince of Dravokia exchanged a sidelong glance with the former crown prince of Cordonia as he mouthed, “Too late!”

Tobias Carrick rose from his chair to demand, “And how, exactly, are you going to do that?”

Bertrand smiled, “I’m glad you asked! This program will not only teach you the skills you need to spin public opinion but will put you in situations to showcase those skills. Publicly.”

“Publicly?” Came a question from the back.

“Yes, publicly. First, you’ll receive instructions on how to conduct yourselves and then you’ll put what you’ve learned by attending a series of public appearances where you will behave properly. You will rehabilitate your images with the support of our staff and your partner.”

A murmur broke out as several people asked, “What partner?”

“Oh, we have taken the liberty of pairing each of you up with a mentor. Someone who already has a stellar public image. Just being seen with them in public will help you. This person will be your shadow for the duration of the program.”

“How long are we stuck here?” Leo Rys spoke up. He hadn’t abdicated a throne to have his life micro-managed by a PR firm.

“Until your approval ratings are acceptable.”

“Great.” He huffed as he slumped back into his seat. “Just fucking dandy.”

“Everyone get a good night’s sleep,” Bertrand told them brightly. “We start in the morning!”

[missameliep]

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Five: It starts with a kiss

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU 

Pairings: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC); Briar Daly x Edmund Marlcaster

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster.

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

Word count: ~8k

Summary: After the drinking games at Edgewater, before sunrise, someone will reveal their feelings; and fortunately those suffering with a hungover, won't need to deal with it alone.

A/N: 

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. Turkish words are translated in the notes in the end.

Trigger warnings: mentions of past drinking and drug consumption. Reader discretion advised.

This is my submission to @choicesprompts ' Flufftober 2024 Choices - prompts 1 (First Kiss)

September, 2018 – London – Friday night – six weeks before the weekend at Edgewater 

Slumped onto one of the large armchairs settled in the middle of the game room, Edmund used one controller to adjust the lights, a softer blueish hue surrounded them, and the other to select an option, starting the gameplay and its characteristic music blasted. 

Elizabeth sighed and asked, “Are you sure you’re not going? It’ll be fun.” 

“I avoided Theresa’s boring soirée at the Holloways and am finally free to enjoy a quiet night leading an assassin through Ancient Egypt, so unless a raging fire erupts, I’m not leaving this house.” 

“It's Friday night, Ed! I can’t believe you’d rather play video games instead of going out with us… Didn’t you say you and Annabelle were friends?” 

“I’ve said she was Harry’s friend, and we share a few common interests, but pubs crawl or whatever you folks will be doing is not one of them. Could you please move a bit to the left? You’re blocking the screen...” 

Crossing her arms, she huffed and stepped aside.  

“You complained you’re a twenty-four-year-old that lives a seventy-year-old man’s life and yet I’m inviting you to a night out with fun people and you’d rather stay home…” she shook her head slowly at him. 

“Not tonight, Eliza! Maybe next week I can go out and pretend to be young. But give me a few days’ notice to prepare myself...” 

A light tap on the doorframe and Elizabeth’s face darted to the brunette standing with a wide smile framed by flamming red lips.  

“Lizzy, I hope I’m not interrupting… but Annabelle and Luke texted they’re already there.” 

“I was just saying goodbye to my stepbrother. I don’t think you’ve met, have you?” 

The man sighed, before pausing the game. His gaze slowly moved from the screen and when he turned around to face the friend by the door his jaw almost dropped to the floor. The sight of the woman in black skinny trousers and a burgundy blouse waving at him with the most beautiful smile he has ever seen stole his breath away. 

“Hi, Edmund!”  

“Hi. Hello. You... Ah... Hi,” he mumbled, unable to control the increasing racing of his heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like? he wondered, while brushing his clammy hands against his trousers. 

Conscious of the impact she caused, Briar huffed a quiet laugh and shifted to address her friend. 

“Nice to meet you, Edmund,” she said while shaking his hand. “I hope we meet again.” 

“I am going with you!” he blurted out. 

“You are?” Elizabeth’s head whipped in his direction, and she stared in disbelief as he turned off the game and put the controller down at the coffee table. 

“I just need to go to my room,” he said rising from the armchair and brushing past them, “Five minutes. I’ll meet you by the door.” 

Briar’s eyes followed the man almost running down the hallway, and she giggled. 

“Does it run in the family?” 

With a puzzled look, Elizabeth’s eyes darted to the same direction Briar was staring and she caught a glimpse of Edmund sprinting down the hall, “What does?”  

“Being cute and a dork?”  

October 28th, 2018 – Edgewater – Sometime after the drinking game 

It’s hard to tell when Edmund realized it was not the best idea for an engaged man to go knock on the door of a woman who is not his fiancée. It's even worse to do so in the middle of the night while slightly drunk.

He should’ve taken a cold shower to get rid of the idea that wormed its way into his mind, overshadowing every other thought concocted by his brain.

But he didn’t.

Anyways, he hates cold showers.

Staggering out of his room didn’t clear his mind or brought the realization of how bad that idea was. Crossing the few meters that separated his room from Briar’s door didn’t do it for him either. Not even when he tapped lightly with his knuckles, praying she was already sleeping and wouldn’t hear it - however, even then, his heart was clutching at the hope she would. So that was not that enlightenment moment either.

When the door slightly cracked open to allow visual confirmation of the night visitor, Edmund took a deep steadying breath, but it did little to stop his hands from shaking.

A moment later, Briar leaned against the doorframe smiling at him with such warmth that it was impossible not to think she cherished him. Maybe the only woman who ever did. And that was the moment he realised it was either the most brilliant move or his worst idea ever. Still, he once more was torn between the options. 

Playing with a long lock of her hair, her gaze lingered on his face, and she asked with a smile, “Trouble sleeping?” 

“I need to talk. To get this out of my chest. Can I come in?” 

Masking her surprise with another smile, she nodded and moved to the side, no questions asked. 

That was their thing, wasn’t it? Heart to heart conversations in the middle of the night... Only this time, he would also see her face while talking... and maybe he would find the answers he wishes. 

The man zigzagged until his knee bumped in the bed, and he slumped on the mattress. Giggling, she closed the door.

“You’re sloshed, Eddie!” her giggles fanned his face when she sat on the bed beside him and helped him sit up.   

“I’m certainly not. How dare you imply – No, I’m utterly sloshed. I can’t even pretend I’m not.” He let out a heartfelt laughter, and she used a hand to cover his mouth and shush him.  

His clear blue eyes crinkled with a smile. The gentle touch of her hand and the proximity of their bodies made his heart race. It was a shame this blurriness prevented him from seeing her eyes more clearly and the natural form of her lips without any lipstick. But he could tell he loved them nonetheless.

“Quiet or you’ll wake everyone up,” she hissed, but there was no edge on her voice, while her hand slowly retreated. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed, and a tentative hand reached out to rest on Briar’s cheek, who didn’t flinch. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even more, when I’m sober, because I can really see you... You’re a bit blurred now... and I can’t see your eyes... and I adore your eyes… they are so… so… intense… and warm... and kind... But my mind already knows you’re beautiful. Inside too. Not your insides... insides... like your guts... but your mind and your heart –” He stopped talking when she failed to stifle her giggles.  

“You’re laughing at me!” he mumbled, and pulled his hand away. 

Trying to stifle her giggles, she tried to remedy the situation, placing her hand on his bouncing knee when his uneasiness drove him to the edge of the mattress. She wasn’t certain if she wanted him to stay, but she didn’t want him to leave yet.

“Was that the urgent matter you needed to ‘get out of your chest’?” she questioned with a soft voice, matching the proximity shared. His attention immediately returned to her, and a timid smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“No, but your beauty is too distracting…” There was a lilt of laughter in his tone, and his fingers combed his ash blonde hair back and rested at the nape of his neck.  

“I won’t apologise for that,” she huffed a laugh, and her cheeks were noticeable darker from blushing because of his words, and this alone almost sobered him up.  

Edmund leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and his breath carried the scent of mint flavoured toothpaste mixed with a hint of liquor – more than a hint, actually.  

She suspected the liquor fuelled this unexpected audacity, considering how shy and restrained he was during their ride this afternoon; however, if asked, he would say this was all about her, her presence was intoxicating, and his self-control reached its limit tonight. 

Her breath hitched when his hand touched her cheek this time. Closing her eyes, she revelled on the feather light touch of his thumb caressing her velvety skin, following a path towards her mouth. When he traced the curves of her lips, it quietened everything else but her thunderous heartbeats. 

Her tongue was emptied, no flirty or funny words ready to fly away... In fact, every brain cell was screaming for her to shut up and kiss him; and his were probably doing the same, considering the way his hooded eyes fixed on her mouth when he leaned even closer. Without any warning, he bowed until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. Their gazes locked for a second that lasted an eternity, a silent dialogue between their yearnings.  

The pull of her luscious lips became so irresistible.  

Waiting for permission, his lips ghosted hers and they were so close he could almost taste her exhales. 

Briar said nothing, licked her lips and closed the gap.

At first, his lips touched hers delicately, then more insistently when his hand slid to the back of her neck and brought their faces closer. It was awkward for a few seconds, too much tension, noses bumping and eyes wide open staring at the other; until her hands cradled his cheeks and gently tilted his head to adjust his position.  

This was enough to make it more and more enjoyable. Her lips glided over his, and when she captured his lower lip between hers, he let out a barely audible gasp. And she made a mental note about his reaction.  

More confident, one of his hands caressed her knee while the fingers on the one nestled on the nape of her neck delved into her hair, eliciting goosebumps and she let out a sigh.

The moment he parted his lips, allowing their tongues to meet for the first time, it felt as if the sole purposes of their lips and tongues were to kiss one another.  

When she pulled away to try and catch her breath, his lips followed hers, and she smiled to herself satisfied, both hands cradling his face.  

Meanwhile, Edmund’s entire body tingled, and there was a pleasant warmth enveloping him, as if being swaddled by a duvet someone else warmed just for you.

Looking at her, his brain buzzed with a swarm of thoughts. Did he drink too much or was there really something different about kissing Briar? A spark. An energy. A connection. 

“Did you feel it too? Tell me I’m not bloody crazy…” he asked, leaning his forehead to touch hers. 

“I’m not a psychiatrist, Eddie… but I think you lost your mind. I definitely did, too.” 

With a huff, his head tilted back, and before another loud laughter escaped his mouth, she covered it with her hand. This time, he grabbed it and kissed her palm gently, and her eyes fluttered close. 

“We’re both too sloshed for this...” 

“I can’t… I can’t think of anything else. Only you, Briar.” 

Hearing those words was bittersweet. It was exactly what she hoped for, but not like this. Not a drunk confession. And especially not after spending time with Theresa and knowing she’s oblivious to their flirting and growing affection. And now they’re kissing while she sleeps! 

“You shouldn’t say things like that...” she chided, “Your fiancée is asleep somewhere... over there...” Her free hand pointed randomly at the wall beside them, and he grimaced.  

“This has nothing to do with her… let’s pretend for a moment I’m not engaged.”  

Frowning, she pulled her hand from his grasp.  

“What a nasty thing to say!”  

“Briar,” Edmund called her name, his voice softer and more slurred, but she didn’t look back at him and pushed his chest. “I told you, Theresa and I… that is not real… she doesn’t love me either… she loves… loved… somebody else… not me… but you and I… I –”  

“Is she aware of how you feel? Because the engagement seems pretty real to her! She showed me pictures of bloody wedding dresses!” 

Edmund’s hand rubbed his face, and he exhaled loudly.  

“If you’re here for a one nightstand, just... own it! Don’t sweet talk me...” 

“Briar, I think – not think, I know… I fell for you.” 

Slack jawed, she gaped, and it took her a few breaths to find the words again. “Eddie… You shouldn’t say that either. You do have a fiancée and you’re sloshed… I know you’ll regret everything tomorrow... and leave me heartbroken.” 

“Never. You got me head over heels… I’m yours.” 

Briar’s face tilted upwards, and she stared at the ceiling for a long moment and let out a loud frustrated exhale. If cupid was a real thing, she would murder hers slowly and painfully. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she muttered under her breath. 

“Is it Woods?” 

“Arthur?” Her head whipped to look at him. “What does Arthur have to do with this mess?” 

“Do you love him?” 

“I-” she paused and pressed her lips together. “I could... eventually... but not when... because of this..." Her finger pointed back and forward at them. 

There was too much satisfaction in hearing those words, and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“You feel it too?” he asked, and his voice was barely above a whisper. 

“What if I do? Does it change anything?” 

Edmund tentatively touched her face and guided her eyes to look back at him. “It changes all!”

“How?” she asked, but immediately changed her mind and waved her hands. “Please, don’t tell me... or... I’ll believe you.” 

“Believe me.” 

He pulled her in for another kiss, and all the fight left her when his tongue swirled with hers. He was already leaning to push her down on the mattress, but she pushed him back.

“No more kissing.” Out of breath, Briar placed a hand on his chest to put some distance between them and held her head high. “Talk. Tell me what you’ll do. I won’t be anyone's playtoy.”

Edmund obediently complied. It felt invigorating to make plans for his own future without consulting with his mother first, and especially plans that included Briar. They talked some more and kissed one last time before sleep claimed their eyes sometime before dawn.

Briar's face was the last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered close, and he thought that was heavenly.

A persistent buzzing noise invaded Elizabeth’s dreamless sleep, almost like the sounds of cicadas in scorching summer nights demanding the world’s attention to their performance. Answering the compelling call, her eyes fluttered open, but it was the same as if they didn’t. Surrounded by darkness, the coldness kissing her feet that escaped from underneath the duvet reminded her it wasn’t summer. She immediately pulled it, rubbing the cold feet against the mattress.  

While her body reluctantly woke up and her brain regained consciousness, she was confronted by confusion and immense discomfort all at once, reminders of the insane amount of alcohol she ingested last night.  

Her head ached as if samba percussionists were beating repeatedly their instruments out of cadence to punish her. The parchedness in her mouth seemed like she had wandered the desert for days. Trying to alleviate it, her lips parted, but her mouth had dried out and it was difficult to swallow and get rid of the disgusting taste sitting on her tongue.  

The buzzing sound echoed again, attacking her ears, and she realized it was probably the mobile vibrating with incoming messages over the nightstand. Even though she wondered what time it was, the identity of the caller or texter and their reasons to be trying to reach her in what she assumed was the middle of the night didn’t pique her interest at all, if anything it riled her up for disturbing her rest. Mustering the strength to reach the nightstand to turn off the phone, she tried to roll over, but something blocked her path and restrained her motion. Not something, but someone. 

In the dark she couldn’t rely on her sight, but her other senses worked perfectly, collecting information of quiet sounds of breathing behind her, the light pressure of a body against her back, and the arm she finally noticed dangling over her waist underneath the covers. And lastly, the fragrance that reached her nostrils was unmistakable. 

“Hamid?” her voice sounded hoarse in the quiet room, almost unrecognisable.  

The body stirred, and he hummed his response. His warm breath fanned her neck, and if she wasn’t so overwhelmed, she would have enjoyed it. 

Why are you in my bed, dude? The question died in her tongue, but not the surprise stirred by his presence. 

“Do you need to go to the toilette again?” his sleepy voice reached her ears.  

Again? When did I even go to the toilet?  

Her mind raced, trying to cling to any memory that could explain Hamid sleeping on her bed. But she found none. Maybe she should take the hint, get up, go to the toilet, wash her face, and drink some water. And definitely get some aspirins before her head explodes, and something for the burning stomach and nausea too. And maybe if she feels better, she will remember. 

“I’m thirsty,” she said fighting the dryness of her mouth. 

His arm retreated, and his hand lightly brushed the skin of her abdomen, and soon was gone, but not the goosebumps on its wakening.   

“The glass is empty, but if you give me a minute, I’ll get you some more…”  

“Don’t worry. I’ll get up…” she said without moving to get off the bed right away.  

His weight shifted in the mattress. Hamid rubbed his eyes and stretched his arm aimlessly until his fingers reached the switch in the wall. The room was flooded by bright light.  

“Turn it off, please!” she squealed scrunching her eyelids. Her hands flew to her eyes, mostly because of the bright lights, and only partially because of the brief sight of his bare torso. “Why are you shirtless? Are you naked?” 

“Don’t you remember?”  

“I-I don’t…” 

“Allah Allah, I thought that was memorable...” 

The pacing of the tiny percussionists inside her brain grew even faster and stronger, and her heart joined the rhythm.  

“What are you talking about?” she dared ask with a strangled voice. 

“The re-enactment of the projectile vomit scene from the Exorcist,” he said very slowly, and realization dawned on her. 

“Oh, my god! I puked? On you?”  

“Fortunately, you had asked me to take you to the toilette, and my t-shirt was the target and not my face.” 

“I puked on you?” she repeated, shocked by the idea. 

What the flying fudge cracker! That's a whole new level of stupidity, isn’t it? Why did I drink this much? 

“I’m so sorry!” she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. “That’s so gross… I-I… Sorry.”  

She wanted to run away and hide forever, but her body was so tensed it froze. 

“Hey,” he said softly, but she didn’t uncover her eyes. After calling her name, his hand reached one of hers, which she reluctantly let him grab – she couldn’t understand why on earth he was anywhere near her.

“It’s okay, Liz. You did nothing wrong.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s untrue... I’m mortified... What else do I have to apologise for?” 

“Don’t worry, aside from the vomiting and being horny and handsy, drunk Liz makes delightful company...”

The joke did little to lessen her embarrassment. How can he be so chill about it? 

“What do you mean by ‘handsy’?” 

“You tried to kiss me and grab my butt.” 

“What? I would never!” she protested, knowing well enough that she prefers his sculpted torso and arms to his bottom, even though it has a nice round shape... And she's clearly still a bit horny. 

“You also took ‘no’ for an answer, which was remarkably respectful.” 

She let an exasperated huff through her mouth and pressed her hands against her face. “I can’t have this conversation now...” 

“We can revisit it some other time, I’ll gladly share the details.” 

“How about never?” 

Smiling, he sat straighter and lighted the lamp on the nightstand. His eyes, cleared of sleep, stared directly at hers, “Drinking like that is unusual to you, I understand. And you don’t have to feel embarrassed about what happened.” 

“That’s impossible...” she sighed and looked at him, wondering what else she has said and done. “Just to clarify, you’re not naked…” 

“No, I’m not. And I’d never cross that line. You were drunk and asked me to stay, and I did. To keep you company. That’s all.” 

Relief washed over her, and she smiled. “Thanks. For not… you know… and for sticking around.”  

“Don’t mention it. Someone had to hold your hair up, prevent you from dancing and falling on your magnificent bottoms, and bumping your head on the furniture.”  

“Oh, God! It did happen then!” Hamid nodded. “Is that why my head hurts?” Her fingers raked her hair, searching for any sign of a bump.  

“I’m pretty sure that’s the alcohol.” 

“What time is it?” 

He picked his mobile in the nightstand. “7:45.” Stealing a sideway glance at her worried face, his finger caressed the back of her hand, and he asked softly, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you something to drink? Annabelle brought a bottle of isotonic drink. And I can get you something to eat…”  

“I – No, I’m fine now. Even thinking about food makes me sick… I’ll go to the... you know… and you... go back to sleep. Excuse me.” 

Hamid let go of her hand, and Elizabeth rolled to the opposite side of the bed, moving away from him, and not looking back even when she felt his stare. She swung her legs touching the carpet and noticed both her socks were gone. Her feet were heavy, just like the rest of her body, and she dragged them on her way to the en-suite. The touch of the frigid floor against the soles of her feet, caused her to shiver, and she mentally cursed not putting on the slippers. 

Closing the door, she barely had the time to turn on the light before her legs started giving away underneath her. Pressing her hands against the cool marble of the sink to support her weight, she avoided stumbling or collapsing to the floor. Performing every little task took too much energy, and she almost gave up on washing her face, but the invigorating cold water gave her the necessary boost to continue. By the time she took the toothbrush to her mouth, she needed to sit down. Flopping down into the wooden bench near the bathtub, she noticed Hamid’s white t-shirt soaked-wet dangling over the rim of the tub, and two pairs of socks hanging on the faucet.  

Suddenly, a panicked Hamid kneeling on the floor in front of her, begging her to keep her eyes open flashed before her eyes; was it a memory or her imagination? 

Her hand barely moved to brush her teeth, and her heavy eyelids were impossible to keep open with all the light around her. She would close them for one second, maybe two.  

The sound of the toothbrush falling and hitting the floor didn’t wake her up, but she couldn’t ignore the soft but persistent rapping on the door. 

“Liz,” Hamid asked softly, “are you alright?” 

Her hand rubbed the foam from her lips and chin, and she picked up the toothbrush from the floor. “I’m fine,” she replied getting up, and the movement made her dizzy. Slowly moving back to the sink, she heard him speaking again.  

“You’ve been in there for a very long time…” 

“I’m brushing my teeth.” 

She washed her mouth, took another gulp of tap water, and tied her hair in a high bun.

When she opened the door, Hamid was standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a worried look. It surprised her that he didn’t go back to sleep or to his own room. 

“How are you, really?” he asked, carefully speaking in a low tone that wouldn’t be uncomfortable considering the aftereffects of the alcohol.  

“I brushed my teeth, but my mouth still tastes like a smelly old brolly –” 

Hamid chuckled and it eased the frown of his brows. “That’s very specific. How do you even know what it tastes like?” 

“My mind does,” she sighed. “My head hurts. My stomach is on fire, and I could drink a bucket of water. And mostly I’m feeling incredibly dumb for drinking this much again...” And puking on you. 

“For now, we can take care of the head and stomach.” 

Walking past her, Hamid crouched and opened a door of the cabinet under the sink. With familiarity, he produced a white box with a red cross painted at the top from the first shelf and took a bottle of antacids and another of aspirins, both were placed on the sink in front of her.  

With a grimace she drank the liquid as instructed and the pill sat bitterly on her tongue while she waited for him to come back with the bottle of Gatorade.

Watching her swig half of the content of the bottle without stopping to breath, an amused smile parted his lips. 

“And for the dumbness –” 

“You’ll keep mocking me endlessly and not let me forget it...” her tongue was quicker and sharper than his ever would, and she huffed in frustration, letting her shoulders slump. 

“Why would I do that?” he asked softly, brows knitted together while trying to meet her gaze. 

She pursed her lips and said nothing in return. Shame taking over, her eyes focused on anything else but his face.  

“A word from you and I’ll never speak about tonight. A joke is not worth it, if it causes you pain. You can expect nothing but understanding from me. Like I said before, I truly believe you deserve kindness, hayatım[1], and not more criticism.”  

Her eyes flicked from her folded hands to his eyes, his expression changing from one of concern to a more relaxed one while he reminisced about the night before.  

“Last night, you have laughed, joked and been the most open around a group of people since I met you. You looked happy, truly happy. Relaxed. And that wasn’t just the alcohol. You were in a safe place and let your guard down. I agree drinking this much isn’t good for you... But why shaming yourself? Why not learning from it instead? You can’t change anything that happened, but you can make different choices in the future, if you desire, no? And if you don’t, I’ll hold your hair up again.” 

There was so much empathy in his tone that if she wasn’t so dehydrated, her eyes would be watering. She mouthed a soundless thank you and he inched closer. 

Standing behind her, he gently squeezed her shoulders, and they looked at each other’s reflections in the mirror.  

Instead of the pink plaid PJs, she was sporting a long sleeved green one with no buttons, and she wondered if Hamid was the one who changed it.  

As if reading her mind, he said softly, “Annabelle changed your clothes, after we cleaned you up.” 

“I must thank her later.” 

That was the first time she truly looked at herself.  

The reflection looking back at her was pale, her usual tan had completely vanished these past months; smudged eyeliner and dark stains of mascara accentuated the dark circles under her reddened eyes, which seemed smaller due to the puffy eyelids. She looked spent. The entangled hair had been pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head, and a few shorter curls had escaped the imposed restraint, sticking out close to her ears and neck. All in all, she was a complete mess while Hamid looked unfairly handsome with slightly flattened bed hair, the shadow of a beard and a big smile that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle; somehow, despite the vomiting, and deprivation of sleep she imposed him, there was so much adoration in his eyes that even in her current state was impossible to miss. 

“Hamid, can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“Why are we all here, Liz? Isn’t that the fundamental Philosophical question?” 

“Silly,” she chided, and his chuckle was so very close to her ear when he leaned forward that raised all the hair in her body and fogged her brain for a while.

“You know what I mean! You could be sleeping tight in your bed right now... instead, you spent the night taking care of my dumb drunk arse... when you had no obligation to.” 

“I like your cute dumb drunk arse...” He winked, and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I! I’m a fan.”

Chuckling, Hamid hugged her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Someone needed to hold your hair, and let’s say I know what it feels to be so utterly sloshed and not having anyone to look after me.” 

“You do?”  

He hummed. His breath fanned the bare skin of her neck.  

“But I won’t bother you with such an inane story. Let’s get you to bed.” 

“I wouldn’t mind listening to it...”  

His lips twitched, possibly surprised by the request, and he looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment, the way she hid a yawn against a palm, but still tried to keep her eyes focused on him. 

“Maybe some other time...” he replied while gently turning her around, but keeping her in the circle of his embrace, “You look about ready to fall asleep in my arms... not that I’d ever complain about that….” He winked at her, very flirty, in that Hamid-like fashion that makes her knees weak, and even though it wasn't far from the truth, she recognized the diversion right there in his words.

“I like a good bedtime story...” she said softly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze over her shoulder, “And your voice...” She might’ve learned a thing or two about charming someone with him.

“Then how could I not humour you?”

Smiling, Hamid helped her sit on the bed and pulled the covers over her legs, and she remained sitting, looking expectantly.

In the dimly lit room, Hamid sat in front of her, legs crossed, took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“I only got really sloshed a handful of times... My sisters took care of me, helped me hide it from my parents... But one time, it happened during a trip with friends... We went to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate my 19th birthday. Most of my memories are fogged... You must have seen what happens to six lads with loads of cash partying at Amsterdam...” 

“I actually never been there...” 

“Haven’t you? I must take you there. It's lovely in the spring.” 

His fingers reached her hand, and his thumb was very distractingly caressing the back of her hand, following the paths of green veins till her wrist and back. Another distraction, she realized. Caressing the back of his hand with her free hand in return, she asked, “What happened to you?” 

He hummed, and she suspected he was carefully choosing the words to continue. 

“Everything went brilliant until the night before our flight... We went clubbing and met these girls, very friendly, seniors at uni, gorgeous… and had us wrapped around their fingers.” He chuckled. “We followed them like puppies to another club and to another... By the time we got to the third one, I was so wasted, I could barely stand on my own, but I didn’t want to admit it and go back to the hotel... So, my friend Lewis stayed with me, but while he was away hitting on one of the girls or whatever… I don’t know… I guess I accepted a pill that was definitely not aspirin…” 

“Someone drugged you?” her voice shrieked, piercing her own brain, and she looked at his face over her shoulder, and he clicked his tongue. 

“Nobody was sober at that point, and I probably said I was cool with it...” Hamid paused at her concerned expression and tried to explain, “The day before, I tried space cake and smoked a little hashishe... anyway... It was a harmless experience. We laughed for hours sitting at the grass...” 

“But you were already drunk! You couldn’t consent!” Elizabeth snapped, head racing with all the legal issues this story poses. This was the sort of thing she worried about whenever going our to clubs and parties and one of the reasons she was vigilant with her and her friends’ drinks, and to hear something like that happened to Hamid not in theory made her chest tight, even though he sounded so nonchalant about it.

Hamid’s shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let out a deep breath; the smile faltered a little and his expression transformed entirely.

Was he regretting telling me?

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m doing it again...” 

“It’s alright.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Maybe I should stop, so you can sleep.” 

She shook her head, widening her eyes to fight the sleep.

“I woke up at the hospital. Someone had found me lying on a bench at Oosterpark and called emergency. I had no documents, no coat, and no shoes... It was winter. My clothes were drenched from the rain…” 

“Wow... that's... you could have died...” Elizabeth pointed out the obvious, and instantly regretted it.

“Trust me, I know. The doctor gave me a long and detailed speech about hypothermia. And drugs. And unprotected sex, even though I don’t remember even kissing anybody… They poked me with needles, ran tests and gave me some pills just in case…”  

“Dude…” Elizabeth muttered but stopped before any of the concerns bubbling in her brain escaped again.  

He looked expectantly, but she didn’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to shut down that voice in her mind whispering judgmental and useless advice about something that happenend to him years ago, and listened to her heart. Pushing the covers aside, she moved on the bed and sat on the balls of her feet right in front of him.

“I – I’m sorry this happened to you,” she said softly and genuinely, and his expression eased when no chiding came out of her mouth.  

“I’m not,” he said, and the smile was back on his face. “Almost dying in such a stupid way had positive outcomes.” 

She gaped. “How can you see a bright side in this story, Hamid?” 

“There is always a silver lining,” he said with a familiar cheerful tone, but still soft enough not to bring her discomfort. “First, I realized I didn’t like drinking that much or getting hungover… I dance better, and my jokes are funnier when I’m sober. And from that day on, I’m an advocate of remembering the things I do and not losing my passport. So, I decided not to drink. Unless it is raki with babam and dedem[2]. Second, I don’t know if I’ll live a short or long life; but I can choose how to live my best life, with no regrets, appreciating the beauties, welcoming the joys... and obviously, adrenaline rushing through my veins fuels me!” He looked pointedly at her, and she remembered the incident with the horse. 

“Not with disregard to my safety,” he let out the words with a chuckle, holding her hands in his. “And, when my time comes, hopefully it won’t be blacked out drunk in a park bench...”

She held his hands tighter, as if possible to shield him from such a fate with sheer will. 

“I hope your learning process included finding a better group of friends,” she mumbled, and he chuckled.  

“Don’t be so hard, güzelim[3]. They are good people. At the time, we were too young and sheltered… mortality was not part of our vocabulary.”  

How incredible it must be to be so careless and not have this sort of concern!  

That was never the case for her.  

Death and sickness have been her companions in life for so long that her identity is linked to those grim subjects. In the past five years, no decision in her life has been made without considering either of them. Letting out a long and loud sigh, she pondered how different they were in so many more ways than she first assumed.  

“Gosh, if it were me… I’d…” she trailed off, and he jumped in to complete her sentence, “You wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Lowering her gaze, but unable to control the blush that bloomed in her cheeks, she admitted he was right and that she wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“However,” she added, “I was going to say that if I were you, I’d never want to see those people again! How could they leave you like that? What sort of friend does that?” Her indignation transpired in her tone and disgusted face. 

“I don’t blame them. It wasn’t their responsibility to take care of me... I’m responsible for my choices, good or bad.”  

Meeting his eyes, there was no shame in them, on the contrary, Hamid’s countenance expressed relief. Noticing the attentive gaze studying him, he smiled. 

“I never spoke about any of this; not even to my sisters.” 

“Why not?” 

“They would gang up on me, obviously… and everything turned out alright. My friend Burak found my coat at the club, my passport and mobile were in the pocket... A happy ending.” 

She watched his face and the wide and bright smile directed at her. 

“You didn’t need to tell me either, so, why did you?” 

“There’s a simple explanation for that,” he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are very special to me, Elizabeth Foredale, and I want you to know me. The real me. Isn’t this what people do? To get to know each other?” 

Even in the low light, his eyes were shining. His gaze could be described with many words, none of which was a synonym for friendly.

Touched by his words and without giving herself time to change her mind, Elizabeth’s hand cradled his jaw, and her lips touched his dimpled cheek in a gentle but lingering kiss.

After a fraction of a second to overcome the surprise, Hamid revelled on it, letting his eyes flutter closed to fully appreciate the gentleness of her touch, and his lips stretched into a wide grin.

It was nothing like the fleeting air kisses they often share. 

Before she considered ending the kiss, his hand covered hers, keeping it in place.

The alchool had drained her body, but right now every nerve was suddenly alight by his presence, by the warm touch of his hand on top of hers.

His eyes fluttered open to meet hers in a sidelong glance. They knew. They had crossed the line. They were no longer in friends’ territory. And, for the first time, she let herself want more, ignoring the boundary she herself tried to place between them.

She got greedy. 

When her lips slowly but steadily glided over the roughness of the slight growth of beard of his unshaved face to the turned corner of his smile, Hamid let out a soft exhale through his nose. The warmth of the air travelled over the skin of her hand and wrist inflaming her entirely, and her heartbeats sped up.

Taking a deep breath, her lungs were filled with Hamid's fancy perfume. It was intoxicating in an unexpected way: it quietened the entire world. Actually it quietened her mind. For once, her brain was entirely focused on this moment and all the overwhelming feelings Hamid stirred on her.

Any hesitancy slipped away at the sight of his tongue moistening his lips. And that was the last thing her eyes registered. Her brain could no longer focus on anything that was not Hamid's lips smoothly moving over hers.

His lips were very soft, incredibly so against her own. They brushed against hers for a brief quiet moment, but it was enough to irradiate a heat, an electricity throughtout her body. It was like a dam breaking, and she was flooded with so much want. The second time her lips brushed against his, she was certain this wasn't like any kiss she had before.

She pulled away enough to gaze into his eyes, the corners crinkled by an adoringly smile; even such a diminute distance seemed unbearable to Hamid, and his hand cupped her cheek to close the distance between their mouths almost entirely.

The tip of his long curved nose brushed against the tip of hers, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he said her name in awe, even with her eyes closed. His thumb brushed her lips, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

In her mind, Elizabeth envisioned more than once where and when their first kiss could happen. It always envolved a perfect romantic scenario, careful planning, fancy dinners and Hamid probably literally sweeping her off her feet. However, the reality was unplanned, and her brain might have short-circuited at some point... There's not even a carefully selected soundtrack playing in the background, just the sounds of their breathing and the pitter-patter of rain.

Yet, nothing could be more perfect than the way his lips welcomed hers. Her fantasies couldn’t compete with the reality of the tenderness of every gesture of his, the pressure of his lips, the light touch of his tongue over her lower lip, or the hand cupping her cheek so very gently.

When Elizabeth pulled back, his nose nuzzled her jaw and down her neck, and she gasped. The sound pleased Hamid, who hummed against her jaw and captured her lips one last time.

Her eyes met his briefly, but she quickly lowered her face, overcame by embarrassment and doubts of what to do or say.

The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, and he whispered, “I could kiss you forever, Liz.”  

When her eyes raised to meet his, Hamid was already staring at her. His gaze could be described with many words, none amongst them was a synonym for friendly, and she rolled her lips inside her mouth.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

She shook her head, and took a deep calming breath.

“You make me feel many things,” -- happy, giddy, confused, excited... and several other she'd be mortified to admit even to herself... -- “’Uncomfortable’ is not one of them.” 

His lips split into the widest grin she’s ever seen, before he swallowed and asked in a low and husky voice, “Care to tell me how I make you feel now?”  

“Right now?” Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and she focused on the feeling of being in his arms earlier. Except for her dear father, she can’t remember feeling safer around a man nor willing to spend a lifetime in an embrace. “Happy. Safe.” 

“I am glad you do. I want you to trust me.” 

She met his stare again, and he was flashing a broad unabashed smile. They didn’t move an inch, staring into each other's eyes. Was she even breathing? She couldn’t be certain she was. 

“Aren’t you curious about how you make me feel?”  

His question startled her. Of course, she wanted to know that, but how could she speak over the thunderous beating of her heart and risking dozens of butterflies flying away if she opened her mouth, like in the Brazilian soap operas with magical realism she used to watch with her mother as a kid. She pursed her lips and nodded, which was enough for him to carry on. 

“You also make me feel many emotions, Liz. The most frequent is happiness. A complete, perfect and unwavering bliss whenever I am around you. And even when we’re not together… My days are more vibrant since you are in my life…” 

“Even after tonight?”  

“Why would tonight change anything?” 

“Aren’t you even a little upset? Tired?” 

“Tired?” He clicked his tongue. Leaning impossibly closer, he whispered into her ear, “Inşallah[4], someday you’ll see how long I can keep going without any sleep...” When Elizabeth shivered, the pleased smirk in his lips indicated that was the intended effect, and he rubbed his hands against her arms. “However, you, my dear, seriously need to rest.” 

“Actually, father wanted to have breakfast with me and after brunch I promised to go with Annabelle and Briar to this spa at Moorfield and –” 

“As much as I believe you to be an overachiever, you need to rest, Liz,” he cut off the flood of words. “Besides, the last Annabelle checked on you was around 4am... So, trust me on this, go back to bed, we won’t see any of them before lunch. And message your father, tell him you have a minor headache and will be staying in your room until you feel better…”  

Elizabeth listened to his reasoning and bit one thumbnail. Judging by the way she looked, no amount of coffee would keep her functional long enough to perform any social activity. Finally, she gave in to the irresistible call of the bed.  

Hamid went to the en-suite, while she typed the message to her father, ignoring the stinging feeling in her stomach, that could be guilty from skipping breakfast with him or due to the hole the alcohol probably burnt there. But Hamid was right, it was past the time to prioritize her needs, even if it meant disappointing others. 

After texting her friends, she was about to go through the several notifications in the screen, when the en-suite door opened and closed. Hamid’s silhouette strolling toward the soft light of the bedroom was all broad shoulders and strong arms. Over the screen of the mobile, her gaze fixed at him, admiring his confident swagger towards her.  

The blue light from the screen denounced her attempt of appreciating the sight inconspicuously, and Hamid grinned at the attention but for once chose to say nothing about it. 

When he turned around to settle the medicines and a glass of water over the nightstand, Elizabeth admired his taut muscles, and noticed the dimples on his lower back right above the waist band of his jeans. Her fingers craved to map every inch of his uncovered skin, and the thought alone sent a flow of heat all over her body. She forced her eyes back to the screen and turned the airplane mode on before putting the mobile away.  

Leaning forward, he touched the side of her face gently and kissed the top of her head. 

“I think you’re all set,” he whispered against her hair, “I’ll let you sleep now.” 

“You’re leaving?” her tone didn’t conceal the surprise and disappointment. 

“Don’t you want me to go?” 

“I-I wouldn’t mind… If you wanted to... stay... it’s a big bed…” She fidgeted with the hem of the shirt, without raising her gaze to meet his, and couldn't find the right words to speak, and stuttered the ones she found, even if they didn't make sense, “It doesn’t... mean that we... anything... I guess... but you don’t have to go. If you don’t want to.” 

“I understand," he said, smiling to himself. "If I stay, do we get to cuddle like before?” 

She swallowed and couldn’t prevent the smile from curling her lips whem she nodded.  

Without another word, he sat on the bed.

She moved aside to give him space, and went under the covers, lying on her back. The fragrance of his perfume on the pillows was inebriating.

When the mattress shifted with his weight, she took a deep breath. The lights were dimmed to their softest glow and a moment later, Hamid was lying beside her on his back, stirring the flutter of thousands of butterflies in her stomach. 

He stretched one arm, adjusted the pillow over it, and, with a nod of his head, invited her to rest her head.

Elizabeth obliged, moving closer and let her head rest in the pillow. Hamid's arm encircled her waist, he kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, “Sleep tight, Liz!”

Her answer was an almost inaudible “You too, Hamid.”

In Hamid's embrace, Morpheus visited Elizabeth unsurprisingly fast, not giving her any time for second guessing her decisions.  

A familiar melody invaded his dreamless sleep and Edmund stirred in the bed, failing to recognize his whereabouts.  

The mattress shifted when the woman sleeping beside him turned around, facing the other way. Flashes from their conversation and kisses invaded his mind, but were soon chased away by the persistent melody getting louder.

His hand patted his pants first, and then the space between them until he found the mobile that slipped from his pocket.  

It was dark and he could barely open his sleepy eyes, but he would recognize the caller’s picture anywhere.  

His gaze flicked to the black hair sprawled over the duvet, and he jumped out of the bed, instinctively shying away from the incriminating scene. Moving closer to the wall, he coughed twice, clearing his throat, before accepting the call, and prayed for silence. 

“Hello, mother,” he spoke in the lowest but clearest tone possible trying not to wake the woman in bed. 

“Let me talk to Theresa,” the woman barked the order, forgetting any rule of politeness – not that she reserved that kind of curtesy to her eldest son, especially not after he became the only one. 

“She’s currently not...” Edmund stuttered and considered what to answer. “We’re not together... at the moment. I was sleeping.” 

“She’s not with you!” The woman muttered something under her breath he could only assume were not compliments about his fiancée’s competence to follow orders. “Find her. And have her call me. Immediately.” 

“Alright, mother. I’ll let her know you –” 

Before he could finish the sentence, the call ended.  

The conscience of where he was standing and with whom and the possibility of a scandal was enough to force out of his body any sleep. A last longingly gaze focused on the woman sleeping before he cautiously sneaked out of the bedroom. This was just the beginning.

Notes:

[1] Hayatım – Turkish – term of endearment that means “my life” or “my dear or darling” in this context. 

[2] Babam and dedem – Turkish – father and grandfather. 

[3] Güzelim – Turkish – mean “my beautiful”. 

[4] Inşallah – In Turkish, the word inşallah or inşaallah means "If God wishes and grants" 

[harleybeaumont]

Never Have I Ever

Chapter 21 - Let's Just Forget the World

Book- TRR

Series- Never Have I Ever

Pairings- Bertrand x MC 

Chapter Synopsis- Bertrand has a surprise for Riley.

Chapter Warnings- language, drinking, innuendo -but mostly this is a fluffy chapter

Rating - Mature

Word Count- 1,830

A/N - once again, sorry it's been a while since I've posted a chapter. I included a snippet of what happened in chapter 20 to refresh your memory.

A/N 2- submitting for @choicesprompts flufftober event

Song Inspiration - this song is absolutely perfect for this chapter and gives me all the feels. Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.

_____________________________________________________________

When they arrived back at the estate, it was already dinner time. Riley quickly popped into Max’s bedroom to check on him, and found him sound asleep in bed.

“I’m starving.” Riley sighed as she made her way toward the kitchen, taking a seat beside Bertrand at the bar.

“What would you like to eat? The chef has left for the night, but I can call and have something delivered for you.”

“Anything.. But you pick! I am mentally drained and honestly don’t think I could make another decision tonight if my life depended on it.”

Bertrand opened his mouth to protest, but paused as an idea hit him. “I know just the thing,” he smiled shyly and pulled out his phone.

He was going to have to step way out of his comfort zone for this. 

Chapter 21- Let’s Just Forget the World

After half an hour of bustling around the estate, Bertrand was finally ready to let Riley into his room to show her what he had been working on. He paused outside of the closed bedroom door nervously, starting to have second thoughts. “Why don’t we just go out and pick up dinner instead?”

“Nuh-uh. I have got to see what you’ve been up to. Now let me in.. before I make you,” she smirked teasingly, tracing her fingers down the front of his chest.

Bertrand sucked in a sharp breath and a shiver ran down his spine at her touch. There was no way he could say no to her. He had already accepted that fact. “Alright,” he grinned, reluctantly stepping aside.

He slowly swung the door open and Riley gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth. “Bert..” Her eyes began welling up with tears as she stepped toward the sitting area of his bedroom which had been converted into a blanket fort, with pizza, wine, and pillows on the floor. Fairy lights, which she was pretty sure he got from Max, were laid across the top of the blankets, casting a warm glow around the room. 

Bertrand watched her face with a mixture of hope and apprehension. He had never done anything so ridiculous or sentimental for anyone before and it was terrifying. “I.. I just thought that-”

Riley immediately engulfed him in a hug, squeezing tightly and burying her face in his chest. She sniffled and when she pulled back she was grinning ear to ear. “You did this?”

“I.. Yes.”

“You, Bertrand Beaumont, made a blanket fort.. for us?”

He felt his cheeks heat up and he opened his mouth, not sure what to say. “If you don’t like it, we can go to a nice restaurant or something!”

“This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me!” She wrapped her arms around him again, squeezing tightly. “I’m so touched that you would share such a special family tradition with me. Thank you.” 

He grinned, shocked that she recalled the story he told her about he and Maxwell doing this with their mother when they were young. “You remember?”

“Of course I do! I remember everything you say, Bert.” She laughed at his skeptical smile, “I mean, most things. I’m sorry I can’t remember things like King Leopold’s favorite goldendoodle’s middle name.. but when it comes to you, I remember everything.”

He chuckled as his cheeks pinkened, “You’re just flattering me.”

“I’m not, but I accept your flattery.”

The two sat beside one another under the blanket canopy and Bertrand poured them a glass of wine while Riley placed a slice of pizza on each of their plates. She was absolutely radiating excitement and Bertrand couldn’t tear his eyes away from her.

“What?” She grinned in his direction before taking a sip from her glass.

Bertrand shook his head, chuckling. “Nothing.”

“Are you laughing at me?!”

“I am not. I’m just..I just feel..”

He looked away shyly and she took his hand. “Feel what?”

He met her eyes. “Happy.”

Her heart swelled and she rubbed her thumb across the back of his knuckles. “Me too.”

Bertrand looked up at the blanket draped over their heads, grinning thoughtfully. “This is the silliest thing I have ever done in my entire life, but I cannot imagine anything else I’d rather be doing right now.” 

Riley laced her fingers with his and squeezed. “Me too.”

Once they were full of pizza and wine, they lay on their backs in companionable silence. Riley turned to face him. “So what should we do now?”

“Are you ready for bed?” He yawned, “I’m afraid I had a bit too much wine and my eyelids are getting heavy.”

“No way! I have a tipsy Bertrand Beaumont in a blanket fort.. We have to do something fun.”

“Oh?” His mouth went dry as he pictured what type of fun she had in mind.

“Let’s play a game!”

“Oh.” He realized that he sounded way too disappointed, and tried to correct that. “Alright, what did you have in mind?”

She leaned closer and grinned. “What about, never have I ever?”

He gulped, “I uh.. I believe we’ve played that one before.”

Riley rolled onto her back, a light-hearted laugh escaping her. Her eyes traced the intricate pattern and stitching of the quilt that rested over the chair backs, forming the ceiling of their blanket fort. She couldn’t hold back a smile as she continued to gaze straight up, too overcome with emotion to even glance at the man beside her. She could feel his eyes on her and hear his steady breathing, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne.. Subtle notes of bergamot and sandalwood and the natural pheromones on his skin that both comforted her and drove her wild. 

Her heart was bursting from the unbelievable feeling of normalcy, contentment, and utter joy she felt just laying beside him.  

“Never have I ever.. Done anything like this before.”

“Like what?” Bertrand asked.

“Blanket forts! Camping on the bedroom floor.. None of that.”

Bertrand smiled, “I suppose you got me there. For once, there’s something I’ve done that you haven't.”

Riley laughed, and Bertrand sat up slightly and took a sip of his wine. He lay back down, thinking for a moment before grinning. “Never have I ever.. received a gift on Valentine’s day.”

Riley’s mouth dropped open. “Never? Not even from a little secret admirer in school or anything? I find that hard to believe.”

“Nope. Go ahead and drink,” he nodded to her glass of wine. “I’m certain you have received loads of Valentine’s gifts.”

Riley took a sip of her wine and shook her head. “I’ve had a few. Not for a while, but..”

“So what were your best and worst Valentine's gifts?”

“Oof, that’s a tough one,” she groaned with a smile. “The worst was probably from a boyfriend I had in highschool. He gave me a bouquet of fake daisies that were missing half of the flowers from the stems. And inside the middle was a jewelry box. But when I opened it, there was just a condom inside.”

Bertrand made a face. “Wow. That is.. quite a presumptuous gesture.”

“One that got him nowhere,” she rolled her eyes. “The best Valentine’s gift was probably when I was in elementary school. This cute little boy with curly hair, Jordan McCall.. He gave me a plastic ring he had won at the arcade and a bunch of wildflowers he picked from his yard.” She turned toward Bertrand with a smile. “It’s the thoughtful things that mean the most, you know? Something that you put your heart into.”

Bertrand smiled at her for a long moment, but feeling like he had been staring too long, he cleared his throat and looked away. “Um, it’s your turn.”

Riley tapped a finger against her lips in thought. “Ok. Never have I ever.. had sex with my brother’s best friend.”

Bertrand’s mouth dropped open and his face flushed bright red. “Riley!”

She couldn’t stop her laughter and handed him his glass. “Drink up!”

He took a sip, unable to meet her eyes while a small smile pulled at his lips. “That was a cheap shot.”

“I came to win!” Riley nudged him and grinned, “Besides, I can’t help it. I love making you blush.”

“I'm glad that my humiliation amuses you.”

She rolled onto her side to face him and put a hand on his arm. “It’s cute. It totally gives me butterflies.”

Bertrand blushed deeper and looked away as butterflies of his own swarmed his insides. He tried to change the subject. “So, I suppose we’re tied.”

“Not for long,” Riley smiled cheekily. “You’re going down, Beaumont.”

“Oh really?”

“Really! Hit me with your best shot.”

Bertrand thought for a moment before a confident smirk alit his face.  “I definitely have you now Ms. Brooks. Get ready to take a drink. Never have I ever.. had sex with someone because I felt bad for them.”

Riley met his eyes with confusion and she shook her head. “Never.”

Bertrand arched an eyebrow skeptically. “What do you mean? What about.. You know..” He gestured at himself.

Riley’s heart sank. Had he thought this the entire time? “No, Bertrand. That’s not why I- no, never.”

His mind was racing as he asked, “Then.. why?”

Riley chewed the inside of her cheek, trying not to cross the line they had been tiptoeing toward for the last couple months. Screw it. “Bert, I had sex with you because I wanted to. I wanted you.”

His jaw dropped and he was nearly rendered speechless. “You- really?” Like, you really actually wanted to- not as a lesson, but like- really?”

Now it was Riley's turn to blush for once. She hugged her knees to her chest and smiled shyly. “Yes.”

Bertrand stared straight ahead, mind reeling. The silence between them stretched, neither knowing what to say now. 

Riley took a deep breath and reached out, grasping his hand. She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke. “Never have I ever.. told someone that I was in love with them.”

Bertrand released a breath, his eyes searching her face for a few moments. He was certain his heartbeat was loud enough for the entire duchy to hear.

Bertrand rested his hand against her cheek, swiping his thumb gently across her bottom lip. His eyes were full of a deep longing and affection she had never seen from anyone before. 

“Riley..” he breathed out softly and pressed his lips against hers, cradling her face with his hands. The kiss was tender, yet passionate and nothing like anything they had ever shared before. He lay her back against the soft pillows and blankets on the floor, relishing in the fact that it was really Riley kissing him. Her perfect, soft, gorgeous lips were actually against his. She had wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her, and as unbelievable as that was, it was amazing and perfect. Bertrand was so overcome with emotion, he thought he might burst. 

They broke apart after a few moments, and Riley leaned forward giving him one more soft kiss before snuggling up to his side and resting her head on his shoulder. Bertrand wrapped his arm around her, resting his hand against her lower back and tracing soft circles with his fingers. The minutes stretched on as the two lay together on his bedroom floor. 

“Riley.. I.. really need to tell you something.” Bertrand murmured softly. When she didn’t respond, he raised his head slightly to look at her. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. She was sound asleep in his arms and everything was right with the world. Heart in his throat, he kissed her head and whispered. “I love you.”

[cariantha]

Drink Had Me

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff Word count: 3.3K Prompt: Ethan has too much to drink and winds up on Sawyer’s doorstep in the middle of the night. Event: I’m participating in the Song Rewrite Challenge hosted by @choicesprompts. This fic is a rewrite of Drink Had Me by Jordan Davis.

🎵Hell, I was up to nothing

🎵Just sittin' home alone

🎵Yeah, I was gonna cash it in

🎵About to put down my phone

🎵And I had a message waitin'

🎵Them boys won't let me sleep

🎵So I told 'em I would meet 'em out

🎵And just have one drink

Ethan was mentally and physically exhausted. He could feel the stress he’d been carrying deep in his bones. His muscles sighed as he sunk into the comfort of his couch and rested his head on the back cushion. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, enjoying the peace and quiet of his empty apartment. 

He tried to push aside the thoughts that had plagued him. The budget crisis. The selfish billionaire. The competition with Tobias. The situation with his mother. But mostly, it was Sawyer that occupied his mind. He worried that the constant push and pull between them was nearing a breaking point.

She had recently gone behind his back and opened Pandora’s box. She compromised the team’s mission. She called him a “goddamn diva” in front of his colleagues. Worst still, it’s what she said when helping him set up his Pictagram profile. “It’s love, Ethan. It doesn’t have to make sense. I guess you just… feel it.” The words nagged at him constantly, and not because she was probably right - like she was right about everything else - but because he felt something. Something unfamiliar. Something scary. Something he hoped was reciprocated. 

DING! That sound used to annoy him, but now it made him eager to check his phone, because there was only one person who insisted on texting him. Quickly reaching for his phone, he sighed disappointedly when he saw the message was not from Sawyer.

Ethan groaned. He had forgotten that this morning, while working out with his gym buddies, he made plans to meet them at Donahue's for drinks and a game of pool. In an attempt to rouse Rafael from his suspension-induced funk, Sawyer proposed the night out. And in all honesty, Ethan only agreed because he saw it as an opportunity to spend time with her. It was only after he committed to attend that Sawyer bothered to mention she had prior plans with Stephanie, their coma patient.   

Ethan arrived at Donohue’s thirty minutes later and swore to himself he would only stay for one drink.

“... and then she said, ‘Oh, would you prefer to be called a spoiled child or an entitled jackass?’ You should have seen your face, man.” Baz, who had wandered over earlier to say hello, couldn’t contain his laughter as he told the story of Sawyer calling Ethan a diva to everyone gathered around the pool table.  

Rolling his eyes, Ethan ordered another drink while the guys racked the pool balls for another game.

“... speaking of workouts... Raf, remember when you asked Sawyer why she liked to work out? And she said because she wants to look good naked. Dude. Best response ever,” Bryce recalled with a laugh as he shared another round of tequila shots.

Ethan gladly accepted, swallowing the cheap liquor in one gulp when the memory of Sawyer standing in front of his bedroom window came to mind. 

Every time Sawyer’s name was mentioned, which was surprisingly often, Ethan put a glass to his mouth. Better that than inadvertently slipping and revealing something he shouldn’t.

“Okay, time for a round of Fuck-Marry-Kill,” Bryce announced, earning a groan from Rafael. “Since you’re so excited to play, Raf, you can go first. JLo, Shakira, Taylor.”

“Easy. Fuck JLo. Marry Shakira. Kill Taylor,” Rafael answered. After taking a sip of beer, he turned to Elijah. “Your turn. Lara Croft, Leeloo from Fifth Element, and umm… Jamie Lee Curtis' character in Halloween.”

“Damn, man. Uhhh…” Elijah twisted up his lips as he pondered his answer. “I guess I’d fuck Croft, marry Leeloo, and go all Michael Myers on JLC.”

Raising his hand excitedly, Baz jumped in. “Oh, oh, I’ve got one for Ethan… Harper, June, and Sawyer.”

The other men snapped their heads to Ethan, bracing for the explosive impact. But to everyone’s surprise, Ethan threw back another shot and answered without hesitation. “Fuck Harper. Marry Sawyer. Kill June.” 

Reggie made the announcement for last call, and at midnight he kicked everyone out, including Ethan. The inebriated men stumbled outside to wait for their rides. Ethan decided to walk for a while, and bid them good night. He strolled down the block until he reached the rose garden near the hospital. Resting on a park bench, he dug his phone from his pocket. But instead of dialing for a ride to take him home, he called Sawyer.

🎵But the drink had me

🎵Callin' you up, talkin' all crazy

🎵Talkin' 'bout us

🎵And catchin' a ride over to your room

🎵And keepin' your roommates up past two

Sawyer’s phone lit up on her nightstand with an incoming call, but she didn’t notice. She had fallen asleep a couple hours ago.

On the other end of the line, Ethan heard her voice. “Hi there, you’ve reached Sawyer. Leave me a message.”

“Sawyer,” he sighed before continuing, “I don’t want to lose you.”

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the phone screen. Sawyer’s contact picture smiled back at him. “I’m sorry I’ve been an asshole lately. I just… I want you so fucking bad,” he confessed. “I need you to be with me.”

He dropped his chin to his chest in defeat and growled. “But I can’t have you.”

He took a deep breath and lifted his head to look at her picture again. “I’ve been losing my goddamn patience with this situation. I don’t want to push you away anymore. It kills me to know that I’m hurting you, but I’m still afraid of what might happen if people find out about us.”

Ethan stood and held the phone at eye level as if trying to look her in the eye. “I feel like I’m on the verge of losing you, Sawyer.”

He began to pace back and forth and rambled on. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said a couple weeks ago. It really fucked me up, because I don’t think I’ve felt like this before.”

“God, Sawyer, you’re the best I’ve ever had,” he admitted, running his fingers through his hair. “I don’t want anyone else.”

He closed his eyes and whispered to himself. “Sawyer, say it back. Please say it back to me. I don’t want to be alone in this feeling.”

There was a long pause while Ethan stared at his phone, hoping for some sort of reply. “Fuck it. I’m coming over.”

<><><><><><><><><><>

It was nearly two o’clock in the morning when there was a knock on the apartment door. Sienna, who was still up baking, checked the peep hole and unlocked the door. “Dr. Ramsey! What are you doing here so late?”

His eyes were bloodshot and he smelled of whiskey and beer. The drink and exhaustion rapidly stripped away what little control of himself he had left. Ethan steadied himself with a hand on the doorframe and answered, “I need to talk to Sawyer. I need to see her. Is she here?”

Sienna invited him in. With her five-foot-nothing frame, she nervously guided the towering and swaying six-foot-four-inch sack of muscles into a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ll be right back.”

Gently knocking first, Sienna let herself into Sawyer’s room. “Sawyer? Sawyer, wake up,” she whispered loudly.

Sawyer awoke with a start, finding Sienna crouched at the side of her bed. “What’s wrong?” she panicked.

“Ummmm… Dr. Ramsey is here.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“He said he needs to speak with you,” Sienna explained.

Sawyer threw her covers aside and stumbled out of bed wearing nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. She quickly checked the time on her phone, noticing the missed call and voicemail notifications from Ethan. “I swear to God, if he’s here to drag me out of bed for another diagnostics case…” she trailed off.

“I don’t think that’s why,” her friend said, leading her down the hallway.

Once her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting in the kitchen, Sawyer spotted Ethan sitting at the kitchen table, his head buried in his hands. His body language reminded her of the times when he had felt pretty hopeless, like when Dolores died and when Naveen was sick. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Ethan lifted his head and let out a small sigh of relief recognizing her. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his voice tired and gravelly.

She followed his eyes to Sienna, who had gone back to her baking. “Let’s go to my room.”

Ethan stood and followed her down the hall. A sudden wave of dizziness washed over him and he threw himself against the wall to keep from stumbling over. Sawyer grimaced at the loud thump, hoping it didn’t wake her other roommates. She quickly tucked herself under his arm and helped him the rest of the way.

Just as her door clicked closed, Jackie poked her head into the hallway. “What the hell was that?” she called out.

Sienna came into view from the kitchen. “Sorry, Jackie, that was me. Sorry I woke you.”

“Do you ever sleep, Trinh?” Jackie yawned, shutting her door and going back to bed.

🎵The drink had me

🎵Wantin' one more

🎵Wantin' to forget what we broke up for

🎵And doin' that make up, wake up thing

🎵I just went in there to have one drink

🎵But the drink had me

Sawyer sat Ethan down on the side of her bed, then stood in front of him casually crossing her arms. “What’s going on? Did something happen? Is this about your mom?”

His head felt like a sloshing fishbowl when he shook it. Focusing on her bare feet, he attempted to ground himself.

Getting more worried, Sawyer stroked her fingers through his hair. “Hey, talk to me.”

Slowly lifting his head, Ethan’s eyes trailed up her long legs to the oversized Hopkins t-shirt she wore. “Is that my shirt?”

Glancing down at the heather gray tee, she replied with a hint of embarrassment, “Yes.”

Sawyer braced her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance when Ethan tugged her close. Standing between his knees, he hugged her tightly around the waist and rested the side of his face against her stomach.

“I miss you,” he mumbled.

A beat later his hands dropped to the back of her thighs. His fingertips lightly caressed her soft skin, eliciting goosebumps. Lifting his eyes to gauge her reaction, he slowly slid his hands higher, palming her backside and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Ethan,” she warned, gripping his forearms to prevent his hands from wandering any further.

“I want you,” he said, kissing her belly through the t-shirt she had stolen from him.

“Ethan, you’re drunk.”

“Say it back,” he whined.

“Say what back?”

“That you still want me.”

She sighed deeply. “Ethan…” When he looked at her with desperate, pleading eyes, she took a seat on his knee. “I want you too,” she repeated and cupped his cheek, “but not like this. Not a drunken mistake.”

“It’s not a mistake,” Ethan asserted. “I know what I want.”

She shook her head. “I know you, Ethan. You’ll regret it in the morning when you’re clearheaded.”

Ethan began to protest when the nausea hit. “I won’t… I–,” he paused and swallowed, “I’m going to be sick.”

Sawyer jumped off his lap and grabbed her garbage pail just in time. Ethan wretched the contents of his stomach while she soothingly rubbed his back. When he was finished, Sawyer offered him a tissue and a sip from her water bottle. She then knelt before him and removed his shoes and socks.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you ready for bed. You’re in no shape to go anywhere right now. You can stay here and sleep it off.” As she stood, she reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head. “Scoot back and lie down,” she instructed. Ethan complied.

She met his hooded eyes, giving him a look of warning. “Don’t get any ideas,” she said before unbuttoning his pants. “Lift your butt.” After carefully tugging off his jeans, she neatly folded his clothes and set them atop her dresser. Returning to his side, she tucked him under the covers.

“Where are you going?” he murmured when she stepped toward the door.

“I’m just going to clean this up and grab you some aspirin,” she answered, picking up the small waste bin. “Do you need or want anything else?”

Ethan shook his head.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised with an assuring smile.

When Sawyer returned a few minutes later, Ethan’s eyes were closed and he was lightly snoring. She turned out the lights and crawled under the covers. Hugging the edge of her full-size bed, she resisted the urge to curl up next to him, and soon dozed off.

🎵Next morning came too early

🎵Heart poundin' in my head

🎵And it took me just a second

🎵To realize I know this bed

🎵And it ain't where I belong

🎵But you got my T-shirt on

🎵I blame the alcohol

🎵No, it ain't my fault

🎵The drink had me

Ethan’s head throbbed. The sound of distant, muffled voices had woken him. He cracked his eyes open, thankful for the dim surroundings. Blinking away the fog in his vision, he focused on the ceiling. There was something familiar about the dangling light fixture overhead. A single lightbulb hung from a rope cord. The gentle breeze that wafted through the window caused it to sway back and forth in a hypnotizing motion. Aware that he was not at home, Ethan’s eyes swept the small bedroom, taking in every detail. As recognition set in, his heart began to race, intensifying the pounding in his head.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, his senses were overwhelmed with the sweet smell of her. Daring to cast a quick look downward, he found Sawyer tucked into his side. Her arm was draped across his torso, her thigh across his waist, with a foot nestled between his legs. Ethan’s right arm was at her back, holding her close. His left hand gripped the back of her bent knee, as if he had been using the leverage to keep her locked in place. She was wearing his t-shirt, and he was only wearing underwear.

He reached into the black box of his mind for any remembrance, but came back empty handed. He didn’t know what to be more upset about. The eventual fallout from this reckless encounter, or the cruel twist of fate of taking Sawyer to bed again and not remembering a damn thing about it.

When her alarm rang out, Ethan silently cursed. “No, not yet.” He needed more time to figure his way out of this mess. More time holding her body against his.

Sawyer groaned in frustration as her phone sang a melodic tune of chirping birds. As she did every morning, she buried the tip of her cold nose into her pillow and inhaled. Only it wasn’t her pillow she smooshed her face into this morning. It was Ethan’s chest. His warmth and scent aroused her senses, and she was instantly awake.

Seeing that he was too, she pushed back from him and tried to cover herself with the forgotten comforter. “Shit, sorry,” she whispered, rolling away to silence her phone.

Her surprise and embarrassment confused him. “Why are you apologizing?”

She turned to face him, making sure to keep a safe distance. “I tried to keep to my side. I must have rolled over in my sleep and snuggled up to you.”

“Keep to your side? Did we not…?”

She shook her head.

Ethan looked up at the ceiling and expelled a breath.

Sensing his relief, Sawyer swiftly climbed out of bed. “I’m going to get ready for work. Your clothes are on the dresser and your phone is charging on the desk. My roommates should be leaving soon.”

“Sawyer-”

“It’s fine, Ethan,” she said, rummaging through her dresser drawers. “We can talk about it later when you feel better. Or if you prefer, not at all, because nothing happened.” Ethan rubbed the spot between his eyes. “There's some water and aspirin on the nightstand,” she pointed out before stepping into the hall and closing the door behind her.

A while later, they left the apartment and shared a ride to the hospital, successfully avoiding the topic of last night. They limited their conversation to simple questions and one-word answers, merely enough to get out the door and on their way.

“Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Sawyer said, and not waiting for reciprocation, she hurried away.

Ethan watched until she disappeared through the sliding doors of the hospital’s main entrance. He cursed at himself the entire walk to Donohue’s to retrieve his car. They may not have slept together, but he still ended up on her doorstep last night and tangled in her bed this morning. He hoped once the hangover cleared, he would remember why, so they could clear the air.

<><><><><><><><><><>

Sawyer was slow to leave the diagnostics office when their team meeting ended the next day. The tension between her and Ethan was so thick it felt like it could be cut with a knife. She couldn’t take it anymore. She turned to study him, watching as he stacked case files, doing his best to ignore her. “This feels like the morning after Miami all over again,” she finally spoke.

Ethan stopped what he was doing, took a deep breath, and braced himself for the conversation he had been dreading. “I’m sorry for inconveniencing you the other night.”

She shook her head as if she didn’t care about that. Shifting her gaze out the window, she bit the corner of her lip before speaking again. “Do you remember calling me? Leaving a voicemail?”

Ethan swallowed hard. He had checked his phone yesterday and knew that he dialed her number, but didn’t recall leaving a message. “No. I only remember bits and pieces after leaving Donahue’s.” He took a cautious step toward her. “What... what did I say?” he asked, trying to hide his nerves.

“It doesn't matter,” she sighed, still looking out the window, “you probably didn't mean it.” She downplayed her disappointment with a quiet chuckle, “I never pegged you for a sappy drunk.”

Ethan stepped in front of her, cupping her chin to force her to look at him. “I meant it,” he said firmly.

“You just said you don’t remember–”

“I don't,” he interjected, “but if the result was me showing up at your door, and waking up with you in my arms, then whatever I said… I meant it.” Gazes locked on each other, Ethan gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He breathed a sigh of relief when Sawyer’s lips finally turned up in a small, forgiving smile.

That smile slowly changed to a mischievous one. Ceasing the opportunity, she started to back away as she spoke. “Well in that case…" She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “I want to get married in June. A fancy church wedding and a huge reception. Oh, and let’s honeymoon in Paris! It will be so romantic.”

“Funny–”

“But you should know, I plan to keep my last name,” she continued teasing.

“You’re a brat. Get out of here,” he demanded, playfully tossing a pen in her direction as she scrambled to leave.

“Hey!” she yelped, using the door as a shield.

“Oh, and I want my shirt back!” he hollered.

Poking her head back in, she offered a deal. “If you can get me out of it, Ramsey... it’s yours. See ya!”

A/N: Ethan's drunken confession was also inspired by the song Say It Back by Nicklas Sahl.

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose@potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn

[cordonianroyalairlines]

All I Want for Christmas Part 2

Series: Cordonian Royal Airlines

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Various

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Drake, Liam x Max

Word Count: 2,848

Rating: General

Warnings for this chapter: none

Submissions: @choicesprompts rewrite challenge, holiday edition TRR x Untamed Heart (one of my all-time favorite movies). @choicesficwriterscreations holiday prompt: Stuck together in the snow; @choicesdecember2023 Christmas and @choicesholidays: This is the worst/best Christmas ever.

A/N: So the end of this is based very loosely on a scene from Untamed Heart. I looked for a clip of the scene in question but couldn't find one. You'll have to trust me that this is one of the most underrated movies of all time. If you've never seen it, you should look it up and watch it.

“Hey, you okay?”

“What?” Riley glanced up in surprise, wiping the wetness from her face with the palm of her hand, “I’m fine.”

“Hm.” Drake grunted as he pulled out a chair and sat down without waiting for an invitation. “You don’t look fine.”

She tried to laugh and cry at the same time and the sound came out as a little hiccup, “Sorry, it’s just Christmas Eve, you know?”

“Yeah….” He said carefully, reluctant to reveal that he didn’t know, not really. He had a mother and a sister, but he wasn’t close to either one. “So, you had plans, I take it?”

“Of course! Every year we all go to my parents’ house for Christmas. My brother Ryder and his wife and kids, my sister Amelia and her fiancé, and my brother Jory will be home from school, and this is Declan’s last year at home before he goes off to university…. I’ll be the only one not there this year….”

“So, you’re close to your siblings?” He set the bottle and glass on the table between them and gestured toward it. “Drink?”

She shook her head. “No thanks. And yes, I’m very close to my siblings and my parents.”

“Would you like something else? I’ll buy you a drink. You can tell me about your siblings.”

“I wouldn’t say no to an amaretto sour…”

An hour later, she looked up to find him smiling at her softly. She flushed as she realized she had been dominating the conversation. “I’m so sorry! I’m just rambling on and on about myself and my family! Tell me about yours!”

“Nah,” he waved her off, “There’s not much to tell. I’d rather hear about yours. Your brother Jory sounds hilarious. Declan should definitely dump that guy, and I agree with Max about your sister. It sounds like she takes your love and support for granted.”

“Max and Amelia have never gotten along,” Riley said with a sigh.

“You’ve known Max for a long time, huh?”

“Since we were teenagers. He’s the one that talked me into becoming a flight attendant and got me this job.”

“You didn’t want to be a flight attendant?”

She shrugged as she pulled her drink closer to her and toyed with the rim, “I was deep in my I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up phase.”

“And now?”

“I like it. I don’t know if it’s what I want to do forever, but it’s really fun for right now. I have no complaints.”

The tension that had set in his back and shoulders at the thought of her quitting eased out of him as he relaxed back into his chair. “As airline jobs go, this is about as good as it gets.”

“You’re not wrong.” Not only did the private airline pay better than commercial airlines, but there were many perks from more flexible schedules to stipends for living expenses while traveling and generous bonuses. But the biggest benefit was getting to work with her best friend. All in all, she really couldn’t complain. “Thanks, Drake.”

“For what?”

“Taking the time to sit here and cheer me up. You didn’t have to do that. I’m sure you have plenty of things you’d rather be doing than listening to me go on and on about my family.”

He scoffed as he looked away from her and lifted his glass to his mouth. “I really don’t.” He was estranged from his family, single, and his only real friend was Liam. All of which was usually fine with him. He preferred it that way honestly, seeing himself as a lone wolf. Community and togetherness were overrated. He needed very little to be happy.

Something about this girl made him want more, though, and the feeling unsettled him.

“Well, at any rate, thank you,” she yawned, “but I should probably get back up to my room.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he glanced at his watch as he stumbled to his feet, “Me too. I’ll walk you up.”

The look she gave him sent butterflies exploding through his chest and he quickly clarified, “For safety, you know.”

“Right,” she nodded in agreement, but the smile that played across her lips said she understood exactly what was going on between them.

Good thing one of them did.

Entering the elevator, he reached out and pressed the button for the twelfth floor. He turned his head to find her giving him a measuring look. “What?”

“I didn’t tell you what floor I was on. How did you know?”

His eyes widened as he stared at her like a deer caught in the headlights. He had never felt so much panic surge through his body at one time and he had flown into combat zones before leaving the military for the private sector. His scotch-laden brain struggled to come up with a response that didn’t include telling her he had asked Liam what floor she was staying on. “Max must have mentioned it.” He mumbled.

“When did you talk to Max?”

He was saved from answering when her phone vibrated, and she quickly answered a text from one of her brothers. He heaved out a sigh of relief and changed the subject. “So, what do you like best about Christmas other than your family? The presents?”

“No,” she laughed, “The tree and decorations. There’s just something so peaceful about the lights and ornaments. Waking up to my mom’s ham and cheese omelets for Christmas breakfast. Oh, and I love the music!”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite Christmas song?”

“Jingle Bell Rock,” she replied without hesitation. “I know it’s not the most popular, or sentimental, but I love the beat and I love horses, so there you go. What’s yours?”

“Mine? Oh, no, I don’t have-“

“Come on, Drake, you have to have a favorite Christmas song!”

“Okay, okay, if you put a gun to my head then I guess I’d say it’s Do They Know It’s Christmas.”

Her mouth fell open. “Really?”

“Yeah, really, why is that surprising?”

“I don’t know. I figured you for a Rocking Around the Christmas Tree kind of guy. Why is Do They Know It’s Christmas your favorite?”

“I don’t know,” he jostled his body weight from foot to foot as he silently willed the elevator to hurry the fuck up, “I think it’s the juxtaposition of mindless consumerism with the destitution of impoverished peoples. It makes you think. Or it should.”

“Wow, Drake. You have hidden depths. I knew it!”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “You think about my depths?”

It was Riley’s turn to flush as she spun her body back to face the doors just as they dinged open. “Well, here we are!”

He saw her safely to her door in a silence that suddenly felt comfortable and right, as if him walking her to her door was a normal, everyday occurrence.

She opened the door and looked back over her shoulder, “Thank you again….for everything.”

“I should be thanking you for saving me from drinking alone. See you tomorrow, Riley.”

“See you tomorrow, Drake. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said as her door closed.

He stood outside her door for a long moment as he talked himself out of knocking on it and asking her to let him in.

Relationships with co-workers never ended well. He would know.

He turned and started trudging back down the hallway toward the elevator when he was seized by a sudden inspiration. Whipping his phone from his pocket, his fingers flew over the keyboard as his pace quickened and he hurried briskly back to his room, a smile of anticipation curving up his lips.

***

The next morning, Riely rolled out of bed and pulled the curtains open to see the area blanketed in freshly fallen snow, but it was all on the ground. Nothing fell from the clear blue sky.

With a squeal of joy, she bounced back to the bed to grab her phone from the nightstand, preparing to call Liam and ask if they had a takeoff time and then Max to find out how things had gone with Liam the night before, but before she could dial either number, it vibrated in her hand. She glanced down to see a text message in the group chat Liam had created yesterday when he invited everyone to dinner. It was from Drake.

Meet me in the Mountain Vista conference room.

That was odd, but okay. She quickly dressed and hurried out into the hallway, bumping into Max as she did so. “Were you waiting outside my door?”

“I was about to knock! I guess you got the text from Drake?”

“Yeah, but it’s weird, right? I mean, his entire contribution to the group chat yesterday was the word okay. And not even the whole word, just the two letters O.K.”

“I don’t know, but I hope it involves food! Come on, let’s go!”

When they arrived at the lower-level conference room, Max pulled the door open, and Riley walked into a stunning surprise.

Christmas finery draped the entire room. A six-foot tree adorned the center of the raised stage at the front of the room, fully decorated, complete with an angel on top. There were gift-wrapped packages under the tree. Christmas music spilled out of the speakers and a buffet table lined the far wall. She turned in circles, taking in the decorations everywhere, her mouth agape, “What is all this?”

“Uh…” Drake rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Nothing. I mean it is Christmas! Just thought you- um, just thought everyone could use a little Christmas cheer this morning.”

“You did all this?”

“Yeah…”

“Drake, it’s amazing! But why? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining at all, but there’s a Christmas tree in the lobby.”

“I know, but that’s just a generic hotel tree for everybody. I thought you deserved something a little more personal.”

She stared up at him with wide eyes. “You did all this for me?”

“I mean….for all of us,” he declared hurriedly, turning away so she wouldn’t see the red coloring his cheeks. “I even managed gifts.” He plucked a package out from under the tree and held it out to her. “Don’t get too excited, they’re just t-shirts from the hotel gift shop. I got one for each of us.”

Riley watched as Drake tossed one to Liam, who had entered the room just behind them, and then Max. He kept the last one for himself. “Hope they fit.”

“How the hell did you accomplish all this?” A tinge of awe colored Liam’s voice.

Drake lifted his shoulder. “I just made a few phone calls and had things delivered.”

“They delivered all this in a snowstorm?” Max gaped at him.

“Well, the blizzard is over,” Drake scoffed, gesturing out the plate-glass windows along the side of the room. “This is just a lot of snow.”

“Ah, you missed your family today, too!” Riley gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah.” Drake agreed as he turned his head to avoid the sharp look Liam gave him. “We should eat while this is still hot.”

“Ohhhh,” Max rubbed his hands together, “Good idea! It smells delicious!”

Drake followed behind Riley and Max toward the food. Liam sidled up next to him and lowered his voice so no one else could hear, “You never spend Christmas with your family.”

“What? Yeah, no, that’s….. you like waffles, right? Because I ordered waffles.”

“Oh, my god!” Riley exclaimed, “Ham and cheese omelets!”

“And bacon,” Max pointed out. “Don’t forget the bacon. Oh! And crepes!”

Her gaze slid thoughtfully to Drake as Max loaded his plate. “Did you order this because of what I told you last night?”

“Order what?” Drake shook his head as he reached for a plate. “I just asked for food. Lucky coincidence.”

“Okay.” She gave him an appraising look. He avoided direct eye contact with her.

The group sat down at a table near the center of the room and enjoyed breakfast together. Riley bit into a forkful of fluffy eggs, melted cheese, savory ham, and crisp onions as she took in the comforting twinkle of Christmas lights reflecting off red and gold ornaments. Max was already wearing the shirt Drake had given him and a Santa hat that he had produced from seemingly nowhere. All of it was set against the backdrop of sheer whiteness that could be seen through the conference room windows. Every ice-covered tree, bush and light post sparkled in the bright morning sun. A sense of peace and contentment that she hadn’t expected to feel on this particular morning settled over her as the group ate and laughed together.

Her phone rang. “It’s my mom!” she answered and after several tearful exchanges of I love you, I miss you and Merry Christmas, she addressed the group, “My mom wants to say hi to everyone.” She placed the phone in the middle of the table and pushed the speaker button so Catherine Brooks could wish the entire flight crew a Merry Christmas. “And especially you, Drake!” she gushed. “Riley told me about the tree and decorations. Thank you for making the day special for her. You’re a good friend.”

“I’m glad she liked it. I just thought we could all use a pick me up since everyone is missing the day with their family,” he lied. The truth was, he couldn’t stand to see her sad. The smile that had washed over her face and stayed there since she had first walked into the conference room made every bit of effort and expense he had gone to more than worth it.

Not that he was interested in her. He didn’t get involved with co-workers.

“Well, nevertheless, thank you and if you’re ever in our neck of the woods, we would love to meet you!”

“Ah…sure, that would be…all right…”

Drake was rescued by Max, who leaned over the phone to yell “I love you!” and “Merry Christmas!” at Riley’s family.

When every member of the Brooks family had spoken to both Riley and Max and the call was finally over, Liam looked up from his own phone and announced, “Great news…we can fly out now!”

“I almost don’t want to.” Max blurted out and then flushed from the tip of his nose all the way down to his toes. “I mean….I just meant this is nice, and it’s warm in here….”

“It’s okay, Max,” Liam grinned at him, “This has been nice, but we do need to get back home. If we don’t make it back today, we’ll have to reschedule tomorrow’s flight, and then I’ll have to deal with Madeleine and her bullshit.”

Drake shuddered. “Why the fuck did Leo give her part ownership again?”

“He didn’t give it to her,” Liam shook his head as he returned his phone to his pocket, “the judge in their divorce did.”

“Still. She acts like her twenty-five percent is controlling interest or something.”

“Tell me about it.” Liam was not overly fond of his ex-sister-in-law, but he couldn’t deny that she was skilled with the parts of the business he disliked, such as accounting and marketing. He just wanted to fly; and Madeleine taking over those parts, had allowed him to do exactly that.

“Well, I guess we should all go pack then,” Max headed toward the door, “You coming, Riley?”

“In a minute. You go on. And you’re still coming home with me today, right?”

“Bert won’t be home until tomorrow, so yes.”

Liam hurried across the room. “Hold on, Max, I’ll walk up with you!”

Riley and Drake watched them leave, then turned to each other. They stood silent and unmoving for a long moment in the middle of the Christmas finery, eyes searching eyes, unspoken emotions playing across both faces.

She took a step forward, “Drake…”

He caught her hand in his as she reached out for him. “Riley…we can’t…”

“And yet you did all this.”

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. It’s me.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her fingers, then quickly dropped it. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Drake, and thank you. Really. It means a lot to me.” She leaned in, went up on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before whispering in his ear, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you’re a gooey, mushy marshmallow on the inside. Your reputation is safe.”

A short laugh escaped him as she stepped away. He watched her walk to the door with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that was at odds with the soaring feeling in his chest.

She liked him, right?

Not that it mattered. It was a bad idea to get involved with a co-worker.

As she slipped out the door, panic sliced through his being as he realized that he was involved.

He was very involved.

He heaved a sigh that was full of both resignation and wonder as he made his way back to his room to pack.

[karahalloway]

The Highwayman: Part III - The Highwayman Comes Riding

Fandom: TRR (Historical AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: On a dark, moonlit night, a highwayman's luck runs out...

Masterlist: The Highwayman

Chapter Summary: Drake arrives, but it's too late...

Word Count: 4,100

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, physical violence, murder, grief, suicidal thoughts, main character death) Do not read if you are triggered by any of these things!

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: As with Part II of this series, this installment is also quite grim and dark. So read at your own peril. There is no happy ending. As before, I have made some changes to the original, but hopefully, these are for the better.

A/N2: This is my third and final submission for @choicesprompts January 2024 Song Rewrite Challenge. The song I chose to rewrite is The Highwayman by Loreena McKennit.

Part III - The Highwayman Comes Riding

The crack of a musket explodes out into the night.

I duck instinctively, pistols primed and itching to return fire...

...until I realise that the shot had come from the casement.

My throat constricts. "Harper..."

But she has vanished behind the plume of powder smoke that now obscures her window.

"Shit..."

I'd known something was wrong the moment I laid eyes on her. She'd been too tense, too still, sitting on that ledge, more akin to a doll than a flesh-and-blood woman...

...but I'd spotted the silvery gleam of the barrel too late, and now all hell has broken loose.

Fucking Beaumont.

I should never have let my guard down.

Heedless of the preservation of my own skin, I leap forward, fingers on triggers, desperate to reach her.

Another flash of orange...

...and my hat sails from atop my head as a bullet goes just wide of its mark.

I raise a weapon, volleys of lead peppering the thatch to my left and right...

...but I am quickly forced to confront the obvious.

I cannot risk it.

The darkness, in combination with the smoke screen being kicked up by the 'Coats flintlocks obscures my sight into the room, and Harper's location within.

And though I desire nothing more than to dispatch each and every one of Beaumont's whoresons to the depths of hell, the truth is that I'd be firing blind. And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if my bullet found Harper instead of a dragoon.

So, I have but one choice.

Flank the bastards.

Spinning 'round, I dash back down the length of the roof, bullets nipping at my coattails. Diving to the side, I return a pair of retaliatory shots in the general direction of the inn — careful to avoid the actual window — so the 'Coats are under no illusion as to the direction of my retreat.

Sliding down the thatch, I push off from the roof to land bodily atop the muck heap.

Not the most graceful of my escapes, I have to admit, but beggars can't be choosers. And I am pressed for time that I do not have.

Rolling off the pile of shit, I quickly sheath my spent pistols and lope towards the barn with sabre drawn instead.

Emile, the stable hand, had paid back my previous generosity by making me wise to the unsavoury nature of the guests that had descended on the inn. So, instead of hitching Drogon and the new palfrey up in a stall, I've taken the added precaution of hiding the horses out in the gorse.

But where I erred was thinking that the Greencoat patrol had sought the inn out for benign purposes. Because it sure as hell hadn't been me who'd plotted the course for them. In fact, I've always taken care to ensure that my tracks never led directly back to Harper.

Which begs the question... How the fuck did I end up walking into an ambush? With Gale strung up as bait?

My grip tenses on the hilt of my sword.

Someone had let the cat out of the bag. They must've. There's no other explanation.

Who? I have no clue. As there are a grand total of two souls who are privy to the secret that I frequent The Crown, and neither would betray me.

Not willingly, at least...

But, first things first.

Skirting along the shadow of the structure's perimeter, I arrive at the stable doors.

It appears quiet. But after being greeted by gunfire once already this eve, I am loath to take further chances.

Pinching up a handful of peddles, I toss them through the doorway. Only when no shots fire in reply, do I dare slip inside.

"Sir?" comes the hesitant query from within the shadows. "That ye? I heard musket fire an'—"

My sabre slices through the night. "Thought I'd be dead?"

The boy's countenance morphs into a mask of horror as the blade comes to rest 'neath his jaw. "Nay, sir! I'd never! I—"

"Care to swear on that?" I interject with a dangerous edge.

"On a tower of Bibles stacked on my parents' graves, sir!" Emile vouches with a tremble to his voice.

I assess the lad under the pale light of the moon. His face is ashen but his eyes glint with steadfast surety.

I lower my blade. "The 'Coats have Harper..."

The hand emits a gasp of disbelief. "Sacré dieu...!"

"...and I could use your assistance," I add, moving to the closest stall that houses a mount bearing Greencoat livery.

"Anything, sir," he proclaims earnestly. "Yerself an' Mistress Harper ha' always been good t' me!"

"Fetch a bag of oats," I direct as I grab the reins of the bay gelding. "And a length of rope if you have it."

"Right away, sir!"

While Emile sets about his task, I lead the Greencoat mount out onto the gangway. Reaching for the girth, I tighten it back up before slipping the bridle off and tossing it into the straw.

"The things ye requested, sir," huffs Emile, reappearing once more.

"Good," I approve, taking the sack of feed from him. "Now, help me lash this to the saddle."

Working in tandem, we quickly secure the decoy atop the horse. Shrugging out of my justacorps — on top of the retribution for Harper, that cunt of a Beaumont also owes me a new hat and coat — I sling the muck- and bullet hole-ridden covering over the sack to complete the trick.

"Think'll fall for it, sir?" asks Emile as he meets my eye from across the horse's neck.

"Better pray to God they do," I reply, slapping the mount on the rear to send it galloping out into the night. "Else this might very well be our last meeting."

Emile's throat bobs in consternation. "Best o' luck to ye, then, sir."

"Christ knows I'll need it," I accede, grasping his palm to press a gold ducat into it. "Now, make yourself scarce afore the dragoons show up."

With a quick nod, the lad disappears back into the gloom of the barn.

Withdrawing from the stables once more, I skirt 'round the far side of the building, careful to keep to the shadows. Hopping the low fence of the vegetable patch, I make my way towards the low door that leads into the kitchen.

Trying the handle, I find it unlocked. Pulling the heavy wooden door back, I slip warily inside.

The crash of boots above me confirms that the Greencoats have fallen for my ruse. But there is no guarantee that every last one of their dastardly lot plans to depart the inn.

Belvedere Beaumont may be a godless dog, but he is by no means a fool.

Which means I'll need to keep ahold of my wits... and weapons.

Pausing at the bottom of the short set of stone steps that lead up to the main hall, I spare a moment to quickly reload my flintlocks.

Slotting one gun back into my belt, I grasp the hilt of my sabre in one hand, and the second pistol in the other before ascending the stairs.

The hall is dark... and quiet.

Whatever patrons there may have been must've made themselves scarce upon the discharge of the first shot.

Honestly? I cannot blame them. I certainly would not wish to be caught on the wrong side of the dragoon's crossfire.

I clench my eyes shut. Please, let her be safe...

Moving through the hall like a ghost, I arrive at the main staircase.

Cocking my pistol, I proceed onto the first step with as much care as I can muster, even as every fibre of my body is raring to dash upwards as quickly as humanly possible.

Sticking to the wall, I inch my way slowly towards the second floor, flintlock before me, on guard for the faintest sound or movement.

Reaching the landing without incident, I am greeted by the wanton destruction left in the wake of the dragoon besiegement.

My jaw piques in ire.

This had been punition — pure and simple. The setting of a heavy-handed example to put the fear of God into the hearts of all those who may cross paths with Beaumont and his men.

A warning of what will befall those who dare defy the letter of the law.

I shake my head. I should never have involved—

A shadow moves in one of the rooms to my left.

Flattening myself against the wall, I sneak a peek through the doorway...

...and what I see roils my guts.

Robert Gale — the inn-keep — is hunched over the chest standing in front of the large, four-poster bed, his hands bound behind him, his shirt and hair matted with sweat. A dark puddle of blood pools at his feet.

Two 'Coats root through the things in the room, pocketing anything that catches their eye and fancy, sniggering amongst themselves.

A hiss of chagrin escapes me. "Putain de merde..."

There is punishment, and then there is persecution. And Harper's father is — without a shadow of a doubt — a victim of the latter. The extent of his wounds provides ample proof of Beaumont's abuse of his authority.

And I cannot allow myself to stand idly by in the face of this atrocity.

I step out of the gloom and into the doorway.

A floorboard creaks beneath my boot.

One of the dragoons glances up...

...but by the time his faculties have clocked the fact that I am foe, not friend, I have already splattered his brains onto the wall behind him.

His compatriot meets the same fate half a breath later, as he fumbles ineffectually for his musket, his body thudding to the floor as the second of my bullets also finds sharp and swift retribution.

Robert Gale's voice croaks out from the foot of the bed. "Ye should'a left them alone, lad..."

But even that simple act is too much for his broken body, and he starts to hack violently.

Taking three quick strides 'cross the room, I manage to grab the old man 'fore he keels over. "Easy now..."

He heaves a shuddering breath 'gainst my breast. "Now, we'll be strung up fer sure..."

"Nay," I counter softly, reaching behind him to loosen the bonds that secure his wrists. "You just lay the blame at my feet. Where it belongs."

Robert twists his neck up to regard me with bruised eyes and cracked lips. "Yer him... The Raven Rider..."

"Amongst other things..." I admit, lowering him as gently as I can to the floor.

The inn-keep hacks out a strained laugh. "Aye... I can see why she likes you..."

"Have you seen her?" I demand, shrugging out of my waistcoat to press it to the wound at his side.

"Nay," Robert replies hoarsely. "Not since they found the gold in her room..."

The icy hand of dread grips my heart. "Sweet Jesus...How the bloody hell did they even know where to look?"

"Théo..." comes the raspy confession. "He... He heard—"

I nearly choke on my own breath. "The window..."

We never closed the damn window...

Springing to my feet, I dash from the room, heedless of the sound of wood striking wood as my booted feet pound the length of the hallway.

How could I have let myself be such a careless fool!

Not only have I tarred the woman I love by virtue of our association, but I've unwittingly led the bastards right to her! And if they found out about the gold, then...

I cannot allow myself to even think on that.

Skidding to a stop in front of the last doorway, I throw myself inside...

...and skid to an abrupt halt as I lay eyes on the horror spread out before of me.

"No..."

The dogged denial slips from my tongue in a whisper.

But my lack of acceptance does nothing to assuage the merciless truth of the reality that assaults me like a thousand knives to my chest.

Harper lies prone in the moonlight, bound and gagged, her golden tresses soaked in the slick crimson of her blood.

"No... No..."

My feet carry me unthinkingly to her listless form beneath the casement — the window of which sits still ajar — and I crash to my knees at her side.

Grasping her by the shoulders, I pull her to me with trembling hands, praying under my breath, hoping against hope that it's a mere trick of the night, a cruel misjudgement, a sordid nightmare that I have somehow stumbled into, soon to awake from...

...but even though her skin still feels warm to the touch, no breath issues from her chest and those hazel eyes that once sparkled with magic and love now stare dully out into the night.

My nails dig into her flesh as my body bows over hers. "Oh, God... Please... No..."

But if the Almighty Lord hears my plea, He is either a heartless bastard or an impotent fraud because He ignores my beseeachment. And she remains unmoving 'gainst my heart.

"NO!!!"

The delegation roars forth from my chest with a force that is naked in its brutality. The heathen keen echoes out into the night as the bitter taste of anguish engulfs my throat and my soul shatters 'neath the stars.

I am too late. And she is dead.

Shot in the heart and left to bleed out on the cold floor like a dog. Alone. Without any assurances or prayer.

All because I'd allowed my heart to sway my head. Convincing myself that despite all my prior misdeeds, I could nevertheless steal a future for myself. A future I had no right or claim to. A future that was more akin to the spectre of a mirage than any flesh-and-blood destiny. A future that was doomed from the start.

Yet my covetousness knew no bounds. And blinded as I had been by the promise of the lie I'd weaved not just myself but Harper as well, I'd led us into the mire of disaster.

"It should've been me..." I rasp into her neck as anguish blurs my vision. "It fucking should've been me..."

I hear the floorboards strain behind me. But I care not. I have no words or sentiment left. And if it's one of Beaumont's enterprising men come to shoot me in the back? Well, then at least they'll be doing me the favour of putting me out of my luckless misery.

Because the knowledge that I have doomed the woman I love cuts deeper than any mortal knife could.

And I've lost the right to live anyway.

"Imma sorry, lad..." says Robert Gale, laying a calloused hand on my shoulder, his own voice cracking.

I shrug the gesture off. I don't deserve his pity. Let alone his succour. I am the one holding the body of his dead daughter in my arms. If anything, he should be setting on me to tear limb from limb in payment for my sins.

Yet, he does no such thing.

"Had I know afore tonight 'bout ye..." He heaves a hoarse breath from above me. "But I s'pose we all had our secrets... And I know it inna any consolation as of now, but we'll bury her 'neath the oak tree. Next t' her mother. That way ye can—"

"Them," I bite out through clenched teeth.

The old man shifts. "What do ye—?"

"She was with child," I grit, reaching up to pull the bloodied gag from her face.

Robert falls into deathly silence beside me.

"So, raise your hand," I tell him bluntly as I pull her eyes gently closed. "Beat me. Wring my neck. Kill me, for all I care. For this is the only opportunity I'll afford you to exact your just vengeance upon me."

"Ye must think very little o' me, if ye think I'd strike a grieving man," rebuts the inn-keep with a hint of steel. "Let alone one who loved my daughter so."

"Then you are a better man than me," I reply solemnly, leaning in one last time to lay a kiss on her lifeless lips.

"Imma'n older man," he corrects as I gently return Harper's head to the floor. "Who's stood where yer standin'. So, I can afford some clemency. 'Specially in this bitter hour."

"You might come to regret your choice," I reply, forcing myself back to my feet. "As I bring nothing but death. And our paths will not cross again after tonight."

"Where ye goin'?" comes the flummoxed query as I push past him.

I throw my reply carelessly over my shoulder. "To exact vengeance of my own."

"They'll kill ye, lad!" Robert calls after me as I stride from the room. "They'll hang ye fer murder! And her death will've been fer n—!"

"I'm a dead man anyway."

Without caring to look back, I let my boots carry me back 'cross the corridor to retrieve my weapons from where I'd left them in the master bedroom.

Reloading the pistols on the fly, I stash them in my belt and I beat a determined path back to the lower level of the inn and out into the night.

The crash of the door 'gainst the wall catches unawares the pair of dragoons that had been left to stand watch on the exterior. But by the time they turn towards me, I have already run both of them through.

Leaving the sods to bleed out in the mud, I plunge into the darkness rising before me.

The cold, winter air whips through my hair, stinging my eyes and my lips in sharp contrast to the hot blood slithering between my knuckles.

But I pay it no need. For I have but one goal. One mission.

To take every soul I can into the night.

Because death? It is all but assured for me. As whether I go by my own bullet or a Greencoat's, it is simply a matter of choice at this point. For I have no reason left to live.

My world turned to ash the moment she died. And there is nothing left to salvage.

Coming to a halt some ways off from the inn, I shoot a sharp whistle into the depths of the murk. A shadowy form raises its head from the gorse, and in the next instant, Drogon is trotting eagerly towards me, the new palfrey in tow.

"Change of plans, mon gross," I advise as he comes to a stop in front of me, breath steaming in the moonlight. "And I don't think you're going to like it..."

The Merèns regards me for a moment, as if sensing the shift in my soul, before letting out a world-weary sigh.

"You always were far too opinionated," I tell him dryly, reaching up to untether the palfrey from his saddle.

Turning the bay towards the stables, I give it a slap on the rump to send it on its way. With Harper gone, I have no further use for the horse. And Emile will ensure it is well cared for.

The stallion shakes his head at me as I swing myself onto his back. But I allow him no further opportunity for protest as I gather the reins in one hand, and point him north.

"Hue!"

Upon command, Drogon leaps forward, and the night becomes a blur as we fly across the moor, like an ill wish upon the wind, seeking our quarry 'neath the path of the stars.

I have no clue for how long we ride. The silvery eye of the hunter's moon casts an eerie pall over the land, distorting any earthly sense of time or distance as its lunar magic stretches shadows and swallows minutes.

Eventually, though, from out of the darkness and the mist appears a ghostly glow, bobbing on the brow of the hill.

"Beaumont," I growl, watching the company ride closer.

They must have caught the horse and realised the nature of the ruse they had fallen prey to.

But it matters not. The time for tricks and cons has passed. There is no more running... No more hiding. No more trying to cheat or contrive our fates. The last of the road has run out.

It is judgment hour.

Wrenching the flintlocks from my belt, I press Drogon forward, down into the valley, down into the well of our doom.

Yet a strange sense of calm blankets me as we draw level with the oncoming troop. Perhaps because my heart already stopped beating the moment I laid eyes on her. And this last, earthly act is merely a formality. Or, I'm so drunk on the potent potion of grief and bloodlust that swirls through my veins that I've become numb to all else.

Either way, I am a shadow of the man I once was. And welcome the sweet promise of release.

The reins slip from my fingers as I raise the pistols to sight my shot.

The figures of men and horses coalesce from out of the gloom, torches borne aloft.

I reach the edge of the sphere of light...

... and let the first shot fly.

The lead dragoon's eyes widen in surprise as the crack of flint 'gainst frizzen ignites the black powder in the pan, splintering the calm of the night.

The lead round explodes out of the barrel in a flash of smoke and fire, hurtling through the air to imbed itself in the soft flesh of the man's cheek, shattering teeth and bone as it goes.

The shock of the impact causes the 'Coat to jerk back on the length of his reins, pulling his horse into the path of its neighbour.

Taking advantage of the confusion, I fire another round into the heaving mess of bodies, catching a horse in the shoulder, causing it to throw its rider from its back.

Cries of horror and surprise rise up as the precisely stacked formation careens into itself, turning both man and beast into a maelstrom of panic.

Slinging the spent weapons into the night, I whirl Drogon back 'round, his hooves rearing into the air as he seeks to redirect the sharpness of his momentum.

Whipping my sabre from its sheath, a hellish howl erupts from my throat as I point the tip of the blade across the narrow divide in vengeful promise.

"BEAUMONT!"

A glint of gold flashes in the middle of the fray as my target snaps his head up at the sound of his name.

"Shoot him, you whelps!" screams the captain, grabbing for his own pistol. "Blast him dead!"

But I am already charging forward.

Shots crack out into the night as I bear down upon my mark...

...and there is but one prayer on my lips.

"I am coming, mon coeur..."

I am almost upon the wall of dragoons when I feel Drogon stumble. Another round pierces my gut a breath later. A third lodges in my shoulder.

But still, I urge the stallion on...

...until his knees give way in the face of the desperate volley of bullets and he careens into the mud, taking me with him, mere steps from my goal.

A thousand pounds of horseflesh crashes down on me, pinning my leg 'neath the weight. My sabre clatters from my hand to vanish into the tangles of the gorse beside me.

The back of my head collides with the ground, and I find myself staring up into the black expense above me, my body broken, my senses reeling.

Drogon lifts his head briefly, attempting to pull himself to his feet, before succumbing to the inherent futility of the exercise with a mournful sigh.

"It's alright, mon gross," I whisper, attempting to comfort the wounded beast lying atop me, even as my vision skips and my lungs struggle for breath as a familiar wetness drenches my shirt.

This is not the way I planned to go. But it seems I left what remained of my luck in that cramped room where my love had blossomed and then died.

Fitting, really...

A pistol clicks above me.

With the last of my strength, I reach beneath my shirt, where Harper's talisman lies coiled 'gainst my heart.

Twisting the damp silk 'round my finger, I close my eyes with a final exhale.

…look for me by the moonlight.

They say that in the depths of the dark — when the moon is high and full — that the sound of hooves may be heard, galloping 'cross the moor...

And though you may not glimpse it, a ghostly rider's there. Searching for his love, they say, who gave her life for his...

If he finds her, 'tis not known; but he made a solemn vow to her. And a promise bound in blood and silk, is a promise that must be filled...

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[peonierose]

Round Robin: Chapter 5 - Don’t call me Angel

Book: OH & TRR crossover

Characters mentioned: Luna Auclair (F!OC - OH), Bryce Lahela (M!MC - OH), Tobias Carrick (M!MC - OH, Maxwell Beaumont (M!MC - TRR) and Bertrand Beaumont (M!MC - TRR)

Words in total: 3,373k

A/N: Masterlist for Round Robin @choicesprompts I’m participating for Round Robin for the 1st time and I really hope I could do the characters justice 🥰

Side note: Thank you so much for helping me with this story and helping me get inspired @aallotarenunelma & @annieruok94 🩷🩷🩷🩷

A few weeks ago…

Luna

The phone rang somewhere in the house while I was in the middle of an art project.

A few seconds later I heard footsteps and when I turned around I saw Bryce appear in the doorway, handing me my phone.

”Who is it?“ I asked and turned to my canvas again.

”No idea some fancy talking guy said he wanted to talk to you.“

”Is he sure he got the right person?“ ”Beats me.“

I furrowed my brow and pushed my dark blonde hair out of my face and accidentally got some teal paint in my hair. Good thing it’ll wash out.

”Hello?“ I wiped my paint covered fingers on a cloth I kept handy when I painted.

”Am I speaking to Ms. Luna Auclair?“ A deep voice with a slight accent can be heard from the other end.

”Yes. And who is this?“ I put the phone on speaker and got up slowly as I took my brushes to the sink to wash them.

”My name is Bertrand Beaumont from House Beaumont in Cordonia. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.“

”Hmm. Sorry doesn’t ring a bell.“ I say not able to resist teasing him. Bryce snickered next to me.

”You’re so mean.“ He mouthed, and I kissed his stubbled cheek, making him smile.

I turned back to the conversation, putting Bertrand out of his misery. Poor guy must’ve thought the worst of me.

”I’m just kidding Mr. Beaumont I know who you are. So what can I do for you?“ I turned off the faucet and put my paint brushes upside down so they could dry.

”I could use your help.“ He sounded hesitant, which made me instantly curious.

”Help with what?“

”We have our PR firm that we founded, and we’re trying to give some people a better public image.“ I took my phone into my hand.

”What does that have to do with me? I’m not a PR person. I have a bachelor's degree in fine arts, and I’m currently teaching art at the University of Hawaii.“

I took a look at my half-finished painting sitting on the easel, and decided to let the painting dry for now. I’ll keep working on it later.

When I closed the door Bryce and I walked towards the backyard, where we sat down in our beach chairs, while Bertrand’s voice kept coming out of the speaker.

”I’m very well aware. But I know you’re someone who’s skilled as an artist. And I know you think outside the box, and that’s exactly what we need.“

”I will need more information than that if you want my help.“ I could hear some commotion before another voice replaced Bertrand's.

”Luna right? Hi I’m Maxwell, Bertrand’s brother. Look, my brother's social skills suck sometimes. I have the cliff notes version if you want it?“

”Um…sure fire away.“

”Alright. A few weeks ago there was a bit of an…let’s call it an incident. Tobias Carrick was caught making out with the daughter of one of the hospital directors of Mass Kenmore. Someone apparently posted it online. Of course, it’s gone viral. The damage is done and he could get fired. Because apparently it’s unethical.“

”Poor Tobias. He’s a good friend of me and my fiancé Bryce so he has our sympathies especially since this a massive violation of their privacy to put the video online. I’m really sorry he’s going through that.“

I looked at Bryce who was as surprised as me to hear about this.

”Both Bertrand and I feel terrible, because Tobias seems like such a great guy and then for someone to swoop in and destroy his image like that. This is actually where you come into play. Let’s just say we’ve tried other people to fix his image, but it didn’t work.“

”Like I told your brother, I’m not a PR person. I have zero experience.“

”That’s not what we’re looking for. I’m talking about your other accolades. You’re not only one of the youngest people to finish your bachelor degree, but one where all your professors had only glowing compliments for you. You also published your own book, called Kala Kala - Overcoming anxiety with the help of art. Very nice read. I loved it, it’s also super colorful by the way. Not only do you teach art at the senior center, you’re an active member at arts on the fence, a non-profit organization in Honolulu, Hawaii. You love malasdas and are allergic to ginger. Should I continue? I’ve got more.“

”I…no…that’s fine. But how did you find out that much about me? Not everything is available online.“ I was wondering how the hell they got my phone number, and all the things in my bio Maxwell just mentioned. Why would they even be interested in seeking out my help?

”Let’s say a mutual, redhead found out about it. She bought some of your art, and she said you could be a good fit. I think the phrase »ovaries of steel« was mentioned.“

I gasped in awe.

”You don’t mean Olivia Nevrakis do you? Because then I’m so in. I’d love to meet her. And of course help out in any way I can.“

I heard a whoop and a sigh.

”Is that a yes?“ Maxwell asked unsure.

”Hold on a sec.“ I muted the conversation.

”What do you think B?“ I asked Bryce and I could see his beautiful face, that I could sketch every single day and not get tired of looking at.

”I mean I’m sorry Tobias is going through this. He’s our friend, but are you sure you’re up for it?“ His brown eyes were filled with worry as he gently caressed my stomach.

”I’ll be fine. Women have gotten pregnant before and have worked until they’ve given birth.“ I said with more conviction than I felt right now.

”I know you’re trying to be strong but okay. If you’re really sure, then I’m okay with it, but the smallest hitch, and we’re going back home. And don’t think of going alone. I don’t care who they are. You’re my fiancé and the mother of my kids. So they better believe I’ll be going with you.“

”I love your protective mode.“

”Out of all the things I’ve said, that’s what you focused on?“

I grinned and then I unmuted the conversation.

”Maxwell? I’m in.“

”Thanks Luna. I promise you won’t regret it.“

”I better don’t. Otherwise, you’ll hear me yell at you.“

Maxwell chuckled.

”You got it. There’ll be a private jet to pick you up. I’ll send you the arrival date. Can’t wait to meet you. From the pictures I’ve seen, you're really beautiful.“

”Careful there Casanova.“ Bryce chimed in, and I grinned as I pushed my hand through his soft brown hair, making him relax.

”No worries, I know she’s taken. We’ll see you soon in Cordonia, bye.“

Before I could say anything else the phone call ended. Bryce and I just stared at the phone and then laughed at how surreal the situation was.

Who would’ve thought I’d meet members of House Beaumont?

Though it looked as if a new adventure was coming our way.

5 days later

So here I was on day five not making any kind of improvement whatsoever.

I’ve tried talking to Tobias, but nothing worked to get through to him.

He acted as if nothing was wrong and there’s no part where he could lose his job. He’s been painted as the bad guy but doesn’t seem to care.

I got up this morning, let Bryce sleep in a little, as I went down to the pool to figure out a new strategy for how to fix this mess.

That’s when I saw Tobias flirting with a woman by the pool.

You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m trying to repair his image, and he’s out here flirting? Oh, hell no!

”Having fun?“ I asked when I stood next to him. Tobias turned his light green eyes to me, focusing on me rather than the woman he was just talking to a minute ago.

As if he wasn’t already good-looking enough, the smile he threw my way made his face even more beautiful.

”Good morning to you too, gorgeous.“

”Sorry buddy but that charm is wasted on me. I’m engaged and I’m expecting.“

”Does that mean I can’t flirt with you?“ Tobias smirked.

”You can. But it won’t have any effect.“ I said and took a towel from the rack and threw it at him.

”Get dressed.“ I said, and he took the towel, but didn't move. He threw an apologetic smile at the woman who was sitting next to him. She slipped him a small piece of paper and left. He watched her walk away and nodded his head in appreciation.

I cleared my throat, and he turned his gaze on me.

”Let me guess you have another glorious idea how to restore my image?“

”You can call it that. You have 10 minutes to get dressed and be back.“

”Let’s make it 15 alright?“ Tobias laughed.

”Now it’s 10 minutes.“

”Does that tone ever work on Bryce?“

”I’m not going to repeat myself.“

”Now you sound like a school teacher.“ He replied but got up. That’s progress I guess.

”Look, I was assigned to give you some sort of glowing makeover for your reputation. If you don’t want it? Fine. I have better things to do.“

Tobias stared back at me, his charm gone.

”Like what? Be all sunshiny? No offense, but don’t you ever have a bad day or get angry? In all the time you’ve been here you’re always smiling and never losing your cool. You’re more like a robot.“

His comment hit me more than I thought it would, so I got up in his face. Which is hard since he’s taller than me, but I made it work.

”Don’t mistake my bubbly personality for being just that. There’s a lot more to my character and my personality than being happy and positive. You don’t know me that well if your words are any indication.“

His eyes widened for a fraction.

”My bad.“

”And that was lesson number 12.“

Tobias rolled his eyes.

”What I don’t get is why they even assigned you to me? We’re polar opposites.“

”You know what’s interesting? In our whole convos, you’ve avoided talking about this whole incident that led up to this moment right now. You keep acting as if you don’t care, and it’s no concern of yours. But you avoid talking about the core problem.“

Tobias crossed his arm.

”Please enlighten me.“

”You’re not a bad guy. But you’d rather have people believe you’re a dick then let them think you have a heart. That’s interesting.“

”Are you done psychoanalyzing me?“ His voice sounded more and more irritated.

”If you think that we’re done? Then you don’t know me at all. We’re just getting started. Get dressed. And don’t be late. If you’re not down in 5 minutes I’m leaving. So dealers choice.“

”Fine, I'll go get dressed. Doesn’t mean this conversation is over.“

”Now it’s 9 minutes.“ I said and watched him quicken his steps while I sat down and enjoyed the nice view of the ocean.

10 minutes later…

”What is this place?“ He asked without really seeming to pay attention.

”It’s called a room. With walls and windows. And sometimes there’s even a door.“

He snickered.

”I know what a room is. I meant what are we doing in this room?“ He looked at all the cans of paint I had people assemble for this exercise.

”That’s the fun part. Team building exercise. It’s also pregnancy safe, which is a plus.“ I grinned, but he just looked at me and didn't reply.

”The point of this exercise is to let go of past hurts. Look at it this way, you can just let all your anger out. I like to call it angry painting.“

I take a can of paint, open it and see the color coral crush. I took it and threw some at the wall.

Tobias regarded me and I handed him another can, he took but stared at it as if it’s been touched by Medusa herself.

”Do you even know how to get angry?“ He looked at me skeptically as he kept holding the pint can in his hands.

”Excuse me?“

He opened the can of paint and a soft canary yellow joined the coral crush tone on the wall.

”Look, all you’ve said is how I have a heart and I don’t let others see it. But you don’t even know me. How do you expect me to trust you?“

”Is this finally the heart-to-heart you’re giving me? One that the others failed to get?“

”Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to partner up.“ He set the can down and was about to walk away.

”Giving up so soon? That’s a shame.“

”What?“ He stopped and slowly turned my way.

”I know you’re the type of guy who likes to do things rather than sit around and talk.“

”You’ve been paying attention? I’m shocked. Everybody knows I’m competitive, that's not a secret.“

”Of course I’ve been paying attention. You know I have bad days and angry moments too. I’m not just some blonde bimbo, who can’t count to three. I notice a lot more than people think.“

”Such as?“ He raised his eyebrows daringly as he leaned against the door frame.

”When you get nervous you bite your lip and clench your left fist. Which would lead me to believe you are left-handed.“

I kept going.

”Whenever I ask you a personal question or try to tackle the issue, you laugh it off, meaning you’re not ready to talk to me or improve your image. You think it’s fine and it doesn't need any polishing. If people don’t like you or think you’re a dick that’s on them.“

Tobias doesn’t say anything.

”I’d wager you’re someone who likes to do things his way or the highway. You don’t play well with others because you like to be in control. It’s hard for you to give anyone even an ounce of your trust because you believe trust is earned. You said it yourself I don’t know much about you, so why should you trust me? So did I get any of that right?“

Tobias didn’t say anything. He didn’t even move a muscle.

”Your silence indicates I got something right.“

”Even if you did get it right, it doesn’t mean I need your help.“

”So what you’d let your image get destroyed and let others decide on the narrative rather than trying to fix it? That doesn’t sound like the Tobias I got to know.“

”I can’t control what people think.“

”Maybe not. But you can let them see that there’s more to you. Do you know what I see right now?“

”What?“

”Someone who’s been hurt in the past, and now you’re hurt again. But you’re trying so hard to bury those feelings that you’re drowning in them.“

”Sounds like a therapy session.“ He mumbled.

”Art is therapy. Did you know I basically got bullied out of the art gallery I worked at in Boston?“

He shook his head. By the look in his eyes I could tell I got his attention.

”I had no idea, but I’m sorry to hear that. Why did you get fired?“

”I quit. I’ve been struggling with anxiety for years. And they’ve seen me as someone they can demean and push around. My voice was snuffed out. I’ve always seen art as freedom, choosing to make art work for you. Art has helped me find an outlet, find my voice. Let me be creative and put paint on a canvas when I can’t name my own feelings.“

He rubbed his neck as if uncomfortable by my word vomit.

”I had no idea. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a dick. I just…“

”You needed to vent so you let it out on me. I get it. We all lash out when we’re angry. Usually at the people we’re close to.“

”But you seem so calm and composed. You and Bryce never even fight. You’re so perfect.“

I threw my head back and let out a laugh. Making it echo from the walls.

I turned back to Tobias who was looking at me as if I grew another head.

”Do you really believe that? Of course Bryce and I fight. We have disagreements all the time. But we’ve learned how to handle them. Even if we don’t speak to each other for days, it doesn't mean we hate each other. But it means hey I need space I’ll talk when I’ve cooled off. We found our rhythm. We love and understand each other.“

He sighed and sat down, leaning on the wall that was just covered with paint, he winced when he realized it, but he didn’t sit down somewhere else.

”What a mess I’ve created, but maybe you’re right.“

”I must have a fever, or did you just say I’m right?“ I grinned and he smiled back.

”No you heard me correctly. You’re right. I’m scared to end up alone. So that’s why I pushed Chloe away. The woman from the video. We’ve gotten pretty close, and I don't know I panicked. I mean whoever took the video had no right to do that, but I guess people judge me and say how I’m sleeping with her because I’d like to get to the top. But that’s not true. I like the job I have. I have no desire to work in an office. I love working with patients. Hearing them tell me what’s wrong and finding a way to make things better for them.“

”Could it be that you’re scared you won’t measure up? Wanting to prove others wrong? You’d rather be the one who ends a relationship rather than the one who gets his heart broken?“

”Yes to all of the above.“ He nodded.

”Alright. That’s something we can work on.“ I said with renewed energy.

”How? We can’t just fix this mess in a matter of days.“

I smiled softly at him.

”No. But we can slowly build towards improving. You know there is a Hawaiian proverb my grandma always uses: A’ Ohe Pu’u Ki’eki’e Ke Ho’a’o ‘Ia e Pi’i.“

”Uhh…meaning?“ He asked.

”No cliff is so tall it cannot be climbed.“

”I kinda like that phrase.“ He said thoughtfully.

”Yeah it’s beautiful. You know what else? You’re not broken. It just means you haven’t figured out the right formula. I don’t want to turn you into someone you’re not. I just want you to realize that if you keep pushing people away who’d like to be in your life you’ll end up all alone. And that’s not what I want for you. You’re smart, funny and good-looking. Don’t let it go to waste.“

Tobias shook his head as grinned at me.

”You know? Now I understand why Bryce fell for you.“

I grinned at him.

”I told you so. There’s more to me than you might think.“

”I can see that. Also, please tell me I’m not the only one you boss around. At least tell me you do that to Bryce too.“

”Oh trust me I do.“ I laughed again because it felt as if we reached a good point. And I’m glad I could get him to open up.

I can see a big grin forming on Tobias face and I already knew there’s something snarky coming.

”Also I did get something right on the first try.“ He grinned.

”Let me guess how to do sex right.“ I sighed.

”No. It was actually how to pick friends. Maybe after we solve this mess I can try and restore some of my friendships.“

”You got this Carrick.“ I slapped his arm.

”Now you sound like Lahela.“

I winked at him.

”Now what?“ He asked after getting up.

”Now we slowly improve your image. With me by your side things can only get better.“ He laughed out loud and we continued to throw paint at the wall. We might’ve not solved everything, but we’re getting there.

[jerzwriter]

One Night in Cordonia Chapter 8: All's Well That Ends Well

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts a Round Robin Event. Fandom: TRR, with some OH introduced here Pairings: You'll See lol Word count: 2.2k (I went over a little - sorry!) Rating: Mature Warnings: talks about sex, innuendos, language Prompt: Cocktails, Gala - @choicesjunechallenge A/N: Every now and then, it's fun to just take your characters and put them in different surroundings. This lil' crack fic allowed me to do just that. I was going to say it's not really "my" Ethan and Tobias here, but, to be honest, it could be them in my Ethan/Kaycee world. Thanks for putting this together and including me Angela!

Next author: ??? @angelasscribbles ???

Summary: It's Leo's social season. The day is Beaumont bash after the formal dinner is done and the royal couple has left. Anton sends his second in command, Claudius, to spread a fog, "Death Smash," that would leave the guests paralyzed and he would attack. But the gas delivered was Shagging smog 2.0 by mistake, leading to a sexual frenzy amongst guests. Anton himself goes to check and falls prey to the gas. The only unaffected members are Max (immune), Leo (because he was in the gardens), and Olivia (partially affected, trying to fight the effects).

The pretty brunette flight attendant was shaky on her feet, and for once, turbulence nor the ridiculously high heels Constantine insisted his flight attendants wear was the cause. No, this time, the mesmerizing aqua-blue eyes of her passenger were the culprit. She hadn’t dared to look at them directly for fear of what they could do to her, but she could feel them raking over as she attempted to pour his bourbon. She only hoped he didn’t notice how she trembled.  

“That’s good right there, darlin’,’ he droned, his husky voice rolling off his tongue like honey. “Any more than that, and I’ll have to wonder if you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

A blush settled on her cheeks as she attempted to come up with a reply. Luckily, the other, equally aesthetically pleasing passenger spared her when he sighed with disgust.

“For Christ’s sake, Tobias, could you maybe have just an ounce of decorum?”

“You know Ethan, decorum is overrated,” he winked. “I prefer fun. You may want to try it sometime.”

“I know how to have fun, and it’s not harassing our flight attendant.” 

Ethan looked over to the young woman, who could not look away before his sapphire orbs met hers. Fuck! She thought because those eyes would render her equally as helpless.

“I apologize for my colleague. Apparently, he was raised by wolves.”

“Hey!” Tobias jumped in. “My mom would kick your ass if she heard you say that!”

“Really? Well, I’m sure she’d love to hear how you are treating this young woman,” Ethan pulled out his phone. “Shall I dial her?”

Tobias threw both hands up in surrender. “Nope! Truce! Truce!”

A satisfied smirk crossed Ethan’s face. “I think you’ll be left in peace for the remainder of the flight,” he smiled. Completely oblivious to the look of disappointment on the woman’s face as she exited the cabin.

Tobias sipped the amber liquor and let out a slow moan. “Mmmm.  This is amazing,” he growled. “Have you tried yours yet? I know you’re a total snob, but I swear, this shit will make you weak in the knees.”

Ethan eyed his untouched beverage and shut his eyes.

“I’ll get to it,” he grumbled. “This whole thing, it’s just… it’s obscene!”

Tobias leaned over and took the papers his companion was reading out of his hands, shoving them into the attaché at his side.

“Hey, what are you….”

“Shut up,” Tobias spat. “Seriously, Ethan. The hospital insisted we go, so just sit back and enjoy the ride. We’re on one of the most luxurious private jets on the planet on someone else’s dime. Our every need is expected to be catered to, and if you hadn’t interrupted… that might have included the beautiful Ashley.”

“Ashley?” He asked.

“The flight attendant…”

“Her name is Amber, you idiot. And sexual harassment isn’t something I wish to add to our resume on this trip.”

“Ethan, relax. I was joking!”

“I’m sorry, I just hate this whole thing. The wealthiest people in the world summoning us across the damn Atlantic to take care of their potential PR disaster is not what I went into medicine for.”

“I don’t disagree,” Tobias shrugged. “But what they’re paying us for two days’ work will fund our department for the next year. So look at the bright side for a change Mr. Sour Pants.”

“You have a point,” Ethan grumbled. “Let’s just make this quick, get in and get out…”

“That was my plan with Am….”

“SHUT UP!” Ethan hollered as Tobias adjusted his sleep mask and drifted off, pleased he had accomplished his goal of getting under his boss’s skin.

~~~~

Upon landing, a heavily guarded motorcade awaited the two doctors and drove them to the Beaumont estate. 

“Is this still fun for you?” Ethan asked.

“Fuck yes! I’m living out some major James Bond fantasies right now.”

Ethan fought the genuine smile that attempted to spread on his lips; maybe there was something to Tobias’s constant glass-half-full approach, but he wasn’t about to admit it.

When they arrived at the scene, Constantine and a Lieutenant from the King’s Guard greeted them at once. The Lieutenant handed each man a gas mask.

“Gentlemen,” Constantine enthused. “We are so happy to have you here! It’s not our first incident with shag smog in Cordonia, but this one is not responding to the normal antidote. That’s why we called in the experts.”

Ethan quickly adjusted his mask, but Tobias made no effort to put his on, earning him a questioning glare.

“No need,” Tobias smiled. “I’ve been exposed in the past, so I’m immune.”

“Of course you have,” Ethan groused. “How bad is the situation?”

“Worse than you could imagine!” The Lieutenant began. “There are only a handful of people present who weren’t affected, reasons unclear at this time. Some may have had prior exposure, some, well… this could be their natural state of being; it’s hard to tell.”

“OK, so we have a handful of people who haven’t turned into sex-crazed lunatics,” Tobias assessed. “But how many have? Do you know how many were in attendance?”

“Several hundred,” a woman’s voice rang out from behind, and Tobias’s body went rigid. He’d know that voice anywhere. “Anyone who is anyone in Cordonian society is here, plus a few plebeians from other nations who are delusional enough to imagine they can fit in with us.”

Tobias turned slowly toward the red-haired beauty, salacious grin in place.

“You say plebeians with such disdain, Duchess. From what I recall, you haven’t always minded rolling around in the dirt with at least�� some of us.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed, her icy gaze meeting Tobias’s heated stare. “You!” she hissed.

Ethan clapped his friend on the back. “It’s so good to see you have fans everywhere. Please tell me you made her acquaintance at a Cordonian History seminar.”

“Yeah,” Tobias chuckled. “Something like that. It’s been a long time, Duchess.”

“I’d prefer it if you called me Olivia,” she seethed.

“Heh! That’s not what you wanted to be called last time we were together.”

Constantine turned to Ethan with a look of distress. “Are you sure the sex pollen isn’t impacting him?”

“No,” Ethan sighed wearily, “Sadly, that’s just him.”

“Tobias?” a naked Maxwell hollered as he approached the group. “Is that you?”

Ethan turned to Constantine, aghast. “I thought you said all the impacted were contained!”

“They are! But that’s Maxwell and… sadly, that’s just… him.”

“It’s me,” Tobias nodded, averting his eyes. He removed his lab coat and tossed it in Max’s direction. “Would you put this on, for Christ’s sake! No one needs to see that damn hippo tattoo.”

“Oh, yeah…” Ethan rolled his eyes. “That’s what we don’t need to see!”

“So, what do we do, gentlemen?” The Lieutenant asked. “Normally, pumping in the antidote smog does the trick.”

“Not with this new variant,” Tobias interrupted. “It’s essentially a concentrated form of GHB in vaporized form.”

“So, how do we reverse this?” Constantine asked.

“There’s been some success with the administration of diclofenac and NSAIDS,” Ethan advised. “But that would require injecting each of the infected individually. There is no way to ‘gas’ everyone back to normal.”

“Well, that could take hours! Days!” A voice called out.

“This is my son, Leo, the crown prince.” Constantine chimed in.  “And I agree with him. We need to get this display of debauchery under control before it’s a scandal!”

“Forgive me if I’m more concerned about the people who were poisoned, not your Palace’s reputation.”

“Dr. Ramsey, I believe I’m paying you quite handsomely to take care of both,” Constantine reminded.

“Going room to room won’t be the fastest way,” Tobias agreed. “But it is the best way. Not only can we ensure it’s administered properly, but you can send someone in with us to confiscate everyone’s mobile devices. That will give you time to destroy any embarrassing pictures you wouldn’t want out there.”

Olivia spat out a laugh behind him. “Yes, Dr. Carrick. Because you, of all people, know about embarrassing blackmail photos. Don’t you?”  

Tobias shot her a knowing look. “We’ll talk after… Duchess. Right now, I have work to do.”

~~~~~

Tobias and Ethan ran up the ornate marble staircase; the team Constantine assembled to assist them quick on their heels.

“So, dare I ask what the deal is with you and Olivia?” Ethan asked.

A blissful look came over Tobias’s face, and Ethan momentarily wondered if his friend was being impacted by the gas.

“You know I’ve always had a thing for redheads. Plus, have you ever had a woman pull a switchblade out of her stilettos and threaten you in the middle of some of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had in your life?”  

Ethan looked at Tobias in horror. “No! I can’t say I have.”

Tobias reached over and tapped his friend’s shoulder. “Well, add it to your bucket list, buddy. I promise you, it’s a rush.”

“Gentleman,” Leo interrupted, “if you wouldn’t mind visiting this room first. My brother, Liam, is in here.”

When the men entered, Liam immediately rushed toward them.

“What the…”

“Thank God you’re here!” Liam squealed. “This is shag smog… isn’t it?”

“It is,” Leo frowned. “But… you’re coherent… weren’t you impacted? Do you want to screw any of us right now?”

Liam calmly looked over the three men and shrugged. “I mean, you’re all cute… but not my type… and you’re my brother!”

“But if you weren’t impacted, why are you locked in here?” Leo asked.

“Madeline locked me in here. That woman has been dying to have her way with me and thought she believed this was her big chance.”

“Wait…” Tobias interrupted. “I’m not up on all of the societal gossip, and I know you people have your own little… proclivities… but,” he turned to Leo, “isn’t Madeline your fiance?”

“Technically,” Leo sighed.

“OK, then,” Tobias simpered. “Well, how about we leave you two to sort this out while we go administer the antidote to others.”

Leo nodded at Tobias, “Excellent idea. We’ll meet up again outside.”

~~~~~

Several hours later, Tobias joined a team of King’s Guards assigned to delete all incriminating images from guests' phones. He was having too much fun helping, chuckling repeatedly before hitting delete. He turned to Ethan with a grin.

“You know, if we want to retire early, all I need to do is forward some of these to our phones. Our offspring’s offspring could live off of the blackmail money.”

He heard what sounded like the knuckles cracking behind him and found Oliva glaring his way. “I assure you, that would be ill-advised.”

“Relax, sweetheart. Don’t you know a joke when you hear one?”

Ethan looked between the two and shook his head ruefully. “I know I’m going to live to regret this… but you mentioned blackmail photos before… what were you talking about?”  

Tobias howled with laughter. “She took some photos of me and planned on using them against me. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t factor in that I have no shame. So, she got nothing.”

“Oh dear God,” Ethan groaned. “What the hell was on… you know what… no… I don’t want to know.”

“Why?” Tobias asked. “They were just pictures of me… in various states of undress… some may have involved latex… and a couple had switchblades….”

“OK, STOP!”

“In one,” Tobias said, standing up with dramatic flair, “I was kind of bent over like this….”

“I SAID STOP!” Ethan yelled as he rushed away, muttering under his breath.

Amused, Olivia slid up next to Tobias and gently caressed his forearm.

“He’s a bit squeamish, no?”

“Hey, they can’t all be me,” he laughed. “You’re looking good, Dutchess… you know, I wouldn’t exactly turn down the opportunity to … engage… again….”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “Tobias, you’re a terribly handsome man. And as much as I can appreciate someone who eagerly follows my orders and calls me Duchess throughout, I must admit… I rather get off on the fear in my companion's eyes when I unexpectedly pull a sharp object in the heat of the moment… the fact that you kind of got off on that… it takes the fun out of it for me.”

“Hey!” Tobias protested. “Fear? Is that what you’re looking for. Listen, gorgeous, I had four years in drama club in college, and I can feign fear like the best of them. I think you should give me another shot.”

Olivia’s eyes raked over him, slowly taking him in from head to toe, a fiendish grin growing.

“You’re willing to wear a harness?”

Tobias scoffed. “When have I ever said no to that?”

“OK,” she smiled, rising to her feet. “The Beumont’s armory is in the basement. Go down the staircase, make a left, and it’s the last door at the end of the hallway. Meet me there in fifteen minutes. Oh, and get your lab coat back from Maxwell. Make sure you’re wearing that… and nothing else… when I enter,” she winked. “That’s the main course. The harness will be dessert.”

Tobias looked at her with darkened eyes. “At your command, my Duchess.”

Anxioulsy hopping to his, Tobias yelled to Ethan as he made his way to the door.

“Hey, buddy! I’ve got .. uh.. some things to do. Keep yourself occupied… look around for Bertrand… you both love boring things. He’ll know what to do.”

Liam and Leo leaned against the wall, shaking their heads at what they had just witnessed. 

“And that’s without the shag pollen,” Leo sighed. “Could you imagine them under the influence?”

Liam shook his head vigorously. “It would be the demise of Cordonia.  Perhaps the demise of civilization.”

@choicesficwriterscreations Tagging others in RB.

[tessa-liam]

The One Who Got Away 

Thank you @kyra75 for your ask --  Prompt #4, ‘This is all my fault’ for @choicesprompts – Angstgiving Event 

Choices Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2 

Pairing: Liam Rys x Riley Brooks (F!MC) 

Rating: mature 

Category: angst/fluff, one-shot, ask/prompt 

Words 3.5k, with sprinkles of Canon 

A/N1: not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

Premise: Liam and Riley are in love, but due to circumstances, they are pulled apart. Riley leaves Cordonia to go back home to New York, heartbroken. Liam marries Madeleine, reluctantly, to fulfill his duty as King. A year later, while visiting New York, Liam runs into Riley.... 

ONE YEAR AGO ...

New York. The place where dreams come true. The Statue of Liberty. The Empire State Building. Central Park. 

As the limousine pulled up in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a sea of reporters and cameras flooded the sidewalk, all desperate to catch a glimpse of the young King of Cordonia. 

He'd arrived in New York earlier that day to spend the next two weeks on a goodwill tour, courtesy of his PR team. He'd already spent several days in Washington, DC, before stopping by a few other major US cities. New York City was the grand finale. 

King Liam stepped out of the limousine, his personal security flanking him, and walked into the throng of reporters. He was met with a barrage of flashing cameras, blinding him. His bodyguards tried their best to hold the crowd back. 

"Your Majesty! Over here! Look over here, please!" 

Liam put on his most dazzling smile and waved, walking towards the doors, surrounded by the press. 

"What are you hoping to accomplish during your stay in New York?" 

"Who will be accompanying you?" 

"Do you have a message for the people of Cordonia?" 

"King Liam! What is the state of the relationship between your country and the US?" 

"Will you be making any important announcements soon?" 

Liam smiled politely at the reporters, but refused to comment on their questions. He reached the top of the steps leading into the museum, and stopped for a moment, taking in the view. It was a gorgeous, but chilly,  November day in New York. The trees had long since lost their leaves and were now a dark brown, contrasting with the gray skies above. The weather had forced most New Yorkers to stay indoors. 

Liam glanced at his watch. It was 10:45 am. 

"Your Majesty? The exhibit is waiting for you." One of the museum staff motioned him inside. 

Liam walked through the massive, imposing entrance doors and made his way through the crowd of museum visitors, down the marble-floored hallway, towards the room where the exhibit was waiting for him. 

The museum staff, dressed in black-and-white, were all huddled near the door, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. 

"This is going to be a huge draw for our museum." 

"I can't believe they let us borrow these artifacts." 

"We're lucky the King agreed to open the exhibit." 

Liam cleared his throat and the museum staff immediately stood at attention. 

"Welcome, Your Majesty. We're honored you're here," the museum director bowed in respect.

"Thank you, but there's no need for all the formality," Liam smiled warmly. "Please, please call me Liam." 

The museum staff beamed as the director held out his arm to escort Liam into the gallery.

"If you'll please follow me, Your Ma—, uh, Liam. We've prepared the exhibit for your inspection. Please take as much time as you'd like." 

Liam followed into the spacious, exhibition room, his personal security standing outside. The staff were bustling around, checking the artifacts and displays. Liam took a few steps further into the room, and his breath hitched in his throat. 

At the end of the room, on a plinth, was a large display case, with a crown encased inside. It was a golden circlet, embellished with rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. 

The Queen's Crown of Cordonia. 

He recognized it immediately. It had belonged to his mother, Queen Eleanor, before she had died. She had never had a chance to wear it. 

Liam's hands were trembling, and his knees were weak. He slowly approached the crown, his eyes fixed on it. The last time he'd seen this crown was at his mother's funeral. After that, it had been kept locked away in the Royal Treasury. He'd thought it would stay there forever. 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" came a familiar voice. 

Liam's head snapped up and his heart skipped a beat. 

There, standing in front of him, was the love of his life. 

Riley. 

He couldn't believe his eyes. What was she doing here? 

"Riley," Liam gasped, taking a few shaky steps towards her. 

They stood inches from each other, but neither could make a move. There were a million thoughts running through each of their minds, but they couldn't utter a single word. 

"You look stunning," Liam finally said, breaking the silence. 

Riley blushed. "I didn't realize you'd personally be here." 

"My PR team set up this visit."  Liam softly spoke.

"I'm glad they did." Riley nervously responded.

They both stood in silence, staring at each other. 

Liam took a step closer and reached for her hand. 

"I've missed you," he whispered. 

"Me too," Riley replied, squeezing his hand. 

They gazed into each other's eyes, their hearts filled with longing and desire; even after all the time apart.

"Liam, I..." Riley started to say. 

"What is it, Riley?" 

"Nothing. It's just...I'm happy to see you." 

"I'm happy to see you, too," Liam said. "And I'm sorry, about everything." 

"It wasn't your fault." Looking down, Riley shook her head.

"Yes, it was. I should've done more. I should've fought harder. This is all my fault" 

"No. Liam, don't blame yourself." 

"But I do." 

Moving their conversation to a secluded alcove, Riley placed her hands on his cheeks. "None of this was your fault. You did the right thing. And you're an amazing King. You're the best King Cordonia has ever had. You made the right decision." 

"But I lost you." 

"It was my choice, Liam. I chose to walk away. I chose to leave." 

"Why?" Liam searched Riley's eyes for an answer.

"Because I knew you would never choose me over your duty. And I would've never forgiven myself if I forced you to make that choice. That would've been too selfish of me. You were always going to make the right decision for your country. And that's what made me fall in love with you." 

"Riley, I—" 

"Wait, Liam, before you say anything... there's something I need to tell you. It's important." 

Liam frowned. "What is it?" 

Riley hesitated for a moment, then looked up into his eyes. Closing her eyes, her heart was pounding inside her chest. "I was pregnant." 

The color drained from Liam's face. He stared at her in shock. "What did you just say?"  Liam didn't trust his hearing.

"I was pregnant, with our baby. I found out right after the coronation." 

Liam couldn't believe what he was hearing, shaking his head, no. He was completely stunned. He couldn't speak. 

"I didn't know how to tell you," Riley continued. "So I didn't. I was afraid of what you'd say. Of how you'd react. I didn't want to ruin your life. So I kept it a secret." 

"Riley, why didn't you tell me?" Liam asked, his voice hoarse. 

"I don't know. I guess I was scared. Scared of what you'd think. Scared that you'd hate me. I'm sorry, Liam. I should've told you. But I didn't want to put you in a difficult position. I didn't want to force you to make a choice. That's why I left. I knew that if I told you, you'd try to figure something out, and I couldn't let that happen. Not when the future of your kingdom was at stake." 

Liam was speechless. His heart was pounding. 

"I didn't want to ruin your life," Riley said again, her voice breaking. "It was all my fault." 

"How could you say that? Riley?" Liam was heartbroken.

"What do you mean? It was my fault. I was the one who got pregnant. I was the one who kept it a secret. I was the one who left."  Riley covered her face with her shaking hands.

"No. Riley, it's not your fault. It was my mine. I should've protected you. I should've done more. But instead, I failed you. I'm so sorry, Riley." 

Riley shook her head. "No. Liam, don't. Please don't. It's not your fault." 

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "It's okay, Riley. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you. Not ever." 

[present day] 

Liam's eyes slowly opened and he was greeted with the sight of his sleeping wife. He was lying on his side, facing her, his arm draped over her waist. She looked peaceful. Her hair was splayed across the pillow and her lips were slightly parted. 

Liam gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. She stirred a little, but didn't wake up. 

He smiled to himself. 

They were together. They had another baby on the way. He'd done the right thing. 

His kingdom would be safe. His people would be safe. His family would be safe.

Everything was going to be all right. 

And yet, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been. If he had known Riley was pregnant; when she had left after the coronation... would things have turned out differently? Would they have chosen a different path? Would he have married Riley instead of Madeleine? Scandal be damned.

Or would the same thing have happened? Would he have still made the same decision, to choose his kingdom over his heart? 

It was too late to find out. 

He couldn't go back. 

He didn't have to.

***

🌹Thank you for reading.

📌 @choicesficwriterscreations @choicescommunityevents @choicesprompts @choicesmonthlychallenge

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[choicesprompts]

Flufftober 2024

Thanks so much to everyone who participated! This year's Flufftober event was a smashing success! Here is the compiled master list of all the amazing stories that were submitted!

Open Heart:

A Bit of a Flirt by @jerzwriter

Autumn's Embrace by @storyofmychoices

Sugar Bugs by @liaromancewriter

Diagnosis:Jealousy by @jerzwriter

A Change of Plans by @jerzwriter

Birthday Bash by @liaromancewriter

Motivation by @liaromancewriter

Corn Maze Adventure by @liaromancewriter

A Family Day by @jerzwriter

Hold My Drink by @liaromancewriter

Eden rook Mysteries: The Secret Admirer by @jerzwriter

The Proposition by @jerzwriter

Peter, Peter by @jerzwriter

Happy Birthday Bryce by @storyofmychoices

Trick or Treat by @liaromancewriter

Counter Proposal by @liaromancewriter

Blades of Light and Shadows:

Of Leaves and Laughter by @storyofmychoices

Bonds of Sea and Fire by @missameliep

The Royal Romance:

Chance of a Lifetime by @tessa-liam

Crush by @angelasscribbles

Desire and Decorum:

Second Chances by @missameliep

Art:

Mal x Daenarya by @wisejazz submitted by @storyofmychoices

Forever by @cashweasel Submitted by @theartoflovingthomashunt

When Love and Friendship Intertwine by @cashweasel submitted by @storyofmychoices

I Dream of Alex by @callmebeem submitted by @theartoflovingthomashunt

I Dream of Alex the Sequel

Operation with Dr.s Lahela by @robboyu submitted by @storyofmychoices

[jamespotterthefirst]

My Best Friend's Wedding

I. RUMOR HAS IT

Book: Open Heart (AU)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey and MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Words: 850

Rating: T

Summary: A childhood friend realizes he's the love of her life. The problem is he's about to marry someone else.

Note: This is my re-write of one of my favorite rom coms ever: My Best Friend's Wedding. Part 1 of two is the Karaoke scene where Julia Roberts tries to sabotage Cameron Diaz and it backfires. This is for @choicesprompts and their Rewrite Challenge! Thank you @jerzwriter for encouraging me to participate!

The crowded bar felt stifling as legions of medical staff packed tightly into its confines. No one seemed to mind, however, since everywhere Morgan looked she was greeted by drunk, laughing faces. All except for one, of course. 

Ethan Ramsey would not be his curmudgeon self if he didn't look like a man about to be waterboarded. His eyes met hers for a fleeting moment, the vivid blue imploring someone—anyone—to put him out of his misery. She stifled laughter, the familiarity of that characteristic disdain of his bringing her the smallest bit of comfort. 

“How much longer do we have to endure this?” he asked as a drunk intern belted a sloppy but admittedly hilarious rendition of I Say a Little Prayer. 

She rolled her eyes, ready to admonish him for being such a spoilsport— just like old times. Someone else beat her to it. 

From beside him, the beautiful brunette laughed—the sound just as perfect as everything else about her. She leaned in close to him, the light catching on a stunning, vintage engagement ring as her hand fell atop his. 

“You're so dramatic, babe,” his fiancée taunted with a smile that exuded pure sunshine. Green eyes fell on Morgan, slightly apologetic. “You'll have to forgive him. He hates upbeat music, fun, and references to organized religion.”

And she was funny, too. Morgan internally had to give her that too. 

Ethan agreed because he indulged Lilac (of course her name had to be beautiful as well) with a lopsided smile that made him appear even more handsome. That shocked Morgan into silence for a moment. In all her time knowing Ethan Ramsey, she could count his genuine smiles on one hand. Then again, the crushing realization fell over her like a torrent. Perhaps she didn't know Ethan anymore. The Ethan she had known never believed in love or marriage, after all. 

Their playful banter escalated and tapered into a modest but sweet kiss. When they pulled apart, Lilac burst at the seams with giddy joy—the type Morgan was a stranger to. It made her stomach churn. 

“Alright,” someone said from the stage. “Who's drunk enough to go next?” 

Drunken cheers and shouts erupted from the bar, each group nominating someone. 

“You should go,” Lilac teased Ethan. 

“God, no.”

She laughed, expecting that exact reaction. Her ring-clad hold tightened on Ethan's arm and something in Morgan came to a boiling point. 

“I have someone better in mind,” she told the couple. Without another word, she marched to the stage and took the microphone from the MC. The crowd whistled and cheered. “Alright everyone, tonight we have a special treat for you. Give it up for the dazzling vocal styling of Doctor Lilac Allende!” 

The cheers in the tiny bar were almost deafening. The pretty brunette was stunned for a moment, glancing at Ethan for reassurance. Expression tight, he shook his head, no doubt advising her not to go if she didn't want to. The crowd, however, was having none of it. A fellow doctor at their hospital all but carried Lilac onto the stage. 

“Rumour Has It by Adele,” Morgan informed the DJ. Then, she pushed the microphone into Lilac's hands as the beat started. Color flushed her freckled face and she looked as though she still hadn't fully recovered from the surprise. 

“Ooh-ooh,” Lilac started into the microphone. “She, she ain't real…”

Morgan returned to her seat, ignoring the glare Ethan threw her way. 

“She ain't gon' be able to love you like I will,” Lilac continued. The more words she sang, the more evident it became that the poor girl could not sing to save her life. Morgan felt a tiny pang of satisfaction at the discovery that the brunette wasn't so perfect after all. 

“Wow,” Morgan laughed. 

Ethan didn't react. 

“Maybe putting her up there wasn't such a good idea. But then again, it's Adele. No one is going to sing that well.”

Blue eyes assessed her like x-rays. 

“Isn't that the point of this circus? To sing badly?” his voice was deathly calm but she could tell there was something more brewing underneath the surface.

At that very moment, the bar erupted into loud cheers and applause as Lilac added a little dance mid-song. She laughed into the microphone, barely able to get the words out. When her eyes fell on Ethan, she winked at him, her spine straightening with confidence. 

“Just 'cause I said it, don't mean that I meant it,” she sang, adding with confidence— “I DID!” 

“But rumor has it, he's the one I'm leaving you for.”

The encouragement from the bar patrons could probably be heard from the hospital across the street. Lilac hopped off stage, still singing, even making her voice playfully seductive. She sauntered to where Ethan sat, trailing one finger along his shoulder as she sang. The man was perfectly still but he tracked her every movement, blue eyes glittering with something heavy and meaningful. The way he looked at her made Morgan feel like an intruder.

The pang in her chest was unbearable.

And with that, Lilac plopped onto his lap, pressing a kiss to his lips as the applause echoed around them. There was no one in the world but them. The way he held her, there was no one in his world but Lilac. 

Morgan looked away.

Notes: I was so in love with Dermot Mulroney in this

Hope you liked it!

The next part is "Speak Now" and should be up soon ❤️

And yes, I am still writing the masquerade mini series lol. I just got swept up in this idea. The heart wants what it wa-a-a-a-ants lol

[angelasscribbles]

Isle of Misfits Chapter 11: The Final Cut

Fandom: Mostly TRR but a bit of others sprinkled in, as well as some OC's from the first few chapters.

Series: Isle of Misfits, Round Robin 2024, hosted by @choicesprompts

Word Count: 1,981

Drake turned his head to take in Liam standing in the doorway, but he didn’t release Bertrand’s collar. “Not now, Li. I need answers first!”

“I…that…” Bertrand fumbled with the remote control, rewinding then pausing on a close-up of him with the redhead wrapped in his arms. “Look!”

Drake glared at the TV screen for a moment, and then the frown lines on his face eased. He released Bertrand and took a step back. “Oh, that’s not Liv.” Even from behind, he could tell it wasn’t her. He knew every line and curve of her body. If he had paused it sooner, he would have realized his mistake.

“Wait.” Olivia pointed to the date in the upper corner of the screen. “It couldn’t have been me. That was the night I was at that ribbon-cutting ceremony with Raleigh.”

Raleigh Carrera had gotten his shit together in record time. A thorough cleansing of alcohol from his room and a handful of public appearances had put him back on top of his career. He was off on a world tour with firm dinner plans with Olivia and Drake the next time he was in the country.  

Drake whirled on the elder Beaumont. “Are you cheating on my sister?”

“No…ah…” Bertrand turned ten shades of red as he stammered and stuttered. “She…that is…. I mean…”

“What is it, man? Spit it out already!”

Bertrand wanted to fall through the floor, but he managed to grit out, “The redhead is Savannah! She…. ah…”

Drake looked like he wanted to commit murder. “Did you make my sister dress up like that?”

“What? Heavens no! It was her idea!”

“Her idea?”

“Yes! This time, she wanted to be a redhead. Last month it was blond…she…ah…sometimes she likes to…um…. role play and…. well…”

All the blood drained from Drake’s face. “Shut up! That’s enough! No one needs to hear anything else!”

Olivia’s delighted laughter cut through the air. “I didn’t know little Savs had it in her. Good for her! Get it, girl!”

Drake shook his head. “Liv, no.”

Bertrand’s face had gone purple as he fought the ignominy. Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. “I think we should address Madeleine’s poor judgment.”

Madeleine gaped at him. “My poor judgment? How about asking why there are reporters on a private island? What about that?”

Bertrand gave his lapels a sharp tug as he regained his composure. “Oh, there will be a thorough investigation into that! Which still doesn’t answer the question as to why you would take one of our clients out in public outside of a prearranged appearance when our policy clearly states—”

“Pfft!” Madeleine flicked her fingers at him. “I didn’t read your employee handbook as I am not your employee! I am here at the behest of the king!”

“Yes, well, about that.” Bertrand straightened his shoulders as he turned to face Liam. “I allowed her to come here to help as a courtesy to you, Your Majesty. However, I’m afraid that I must inform you that the countesses’ services are no longer needed.”

“Of course,” Liam inclined his head slightly. “The Leviathan Group is your business. I’m sorry if I overstepped. I simply wanted to help my brother—”

“Which you did, by sending him here, to me. No other client has been allowed to have friends or family visit during their time with us. Please, Liam. Let me do my job.”

The king looked like he wanted to argue for a moment and then his shoulders slumped. “Yes, of course. I am sorry. I should also apologize for agreeing to help Trystan and then not being able to follow through.”

“It is of no consequence.” Bertrand waved him off. “Liv was able to step in. You have an entire country to run. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Seriously?” Madeleine fumed. “You know what? That’s fine. Get someone else to help Mr. never met a responsibility he couldn’t ignore or run away from. I’ll be on the next boat back to the mainland.” She spun on her heel and was gone.

“Thank god!” Leo commanded everyone’s attention as he slapped the newspaper again. “But what are we going to do about this?”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take you under my wing personally,” Bertrand assured him. “And since your wife is here, we’re going to enlist her help.”

Bertrand didn’t say it out loud, but he was fairly certain Katie was the security leak. Reporters had most likely followed her to the island. Though Liam was also a possibility. This was why friends and family weren’t supposed to visit.

Leo rubbed his eyes. “I’m not sure she’s even speaking to me right now.”

“Well, have you tried explaining to her why you were in that bush throwing up outside a Beverly Hills mansion at three a.m. while she was at home with two infants?”

“How the hell was I supposed to know there’d be a reporter there?”

“But why were you there in the first place? With that woman?”

Leo shook his head vehemently from side to side. “That woman just helped me back into the house because I was too drunk to stand on my own!”

“I believe you.” Bertrand clasped a hand on his shoulder. “But you still need to answer why you were there in the first place. For your wife and yourself, honestly. Katie shouldn’t be here, but since she is, I’ve arranged some couples’ counseling for you, and I don’t want to hear any arguments about it.”

Leo opened his mouth, then shut it again. He nodded. Couples’ counseling sounded good. He didn’t want to lose the family he was in the process of building. They meant too much to him.

“Okay, good!” Bertrand squeezed his shoulder tighter, then released it and slapped him on the back. “Why don’t you go talk to her right now?”

Leo nodded again. “Thanks.” He stopped in front of Liam on his way out. “I’m sorry I was such an ass about coming here. You might have saved my marriage, so…thank you for that.”

“I love you, man,” Liam told him as he pulled him into a hug.

“I love you too, little bro.”

After Leo had left the room, Liam shifted from foot to foot awkwardly before blurting out, “So, what’s this about Riley and Max?”

Drake’s jaw clenched. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Li, but I saw them together this morning. Max was coming out of her room this morning. Early this morning!”

Liam stared at him in wide-eyed panic as his mind whirled with ways to mitigate this breach of decorum. He knew he could tell Drake anything, but his eyes flicked to Bertrand and Olivia as he scrambled for a cover story. “Ah… he was there to deliver an update about Leo. I was in an early meeting, so I asked him to deliver it to Lady Riley instead.”

Liam held his breath as he waited to see if they bought the story.

Drake’s eyes narrowed. It had been really early. But if Liam didn’t want everyone in the room to know his business, then Drake would respect that, so he simply replied with, “Okay. That makes sense.”

Liam’s body sagged with relief. He wasn’t ready for the world to know about him and Max or Max and Riley, much less him, Max and Riley as a throuple. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Drake. But next time please come to me with any concerns instead of blurting them out in front of others. It’s how rumors get started and I can ill afford those at the very start of my reign.”

Drake gave him a curt nod. “Of course. Sorry.”

Liam waved dismissively in his direction. “Your heart was in the right place. We’ll talk later.” He turned from Drake to Bertrand. “I’m going to say goodbye to my brother and then I promise not to come back unless you invite me. I should have trusted you from the beginning and stayed out of it.”

“I appreciate the trust you’re placing in me, Your Majesty.”

Drake watched Liam leave, then turned to Olivia. “Are you ready? I thought we could grab some—”

The redhead sauntered closer to her boyfriend and ran a hand down his chest, “I would love to do whatever the end of that sentence is but first….” She glanced back at her business partner. “I need to talk to Bert about something real quick. You go on. I’ll meet you in my room in ten.”

He gave her a salacious grin as he pulled her in for a kiss. She started to melt into him before remembering they weren’t alone. Mostly because Bertrand cleared his throat to remind them. She pushed him away with a teasing grin. “Go on. I’ll be along soon enough.”

When Drake was out of the room, she turned to Bertrand with a steely glare. “Would you like to tell me why the west wing has been closed off since our first night here?”

Bertrand’s body jerked. His eyes widened. “Oh… ah… we just aren’t using—”

“Cut the shit, Bert!” Olivia crossed the room to stand defiantly in front of him. “When I can’t sleep, I walk. I saw the ambulance that night. There were no lights, no sirens but I know what I saw.”

Bertrand let out a long sigh as his shoulders slumped. “It will be a relief to tell someone. One of our guests, an aging actor looking to make a comeback, was… done away with that night.”

Olivia blinked. “You mean murdered?”

Bertrand nodded. He had told Max it was a bad dream…. and it had been. But it had also happened.

“And you swept it under the rug because a murder the first night of your new business venture would be bad publicity?”

He nodded again.

“Any clues who it was?”

“Well, the young lady that found the body disappeared later that night.” It had been a miracle that no one other than him had heard her scream. Mostly because he had been the only guest in that wing, having insisted on complete privacy.

“Do we know who she was?”

“She was Natalia Karanova, here under the pretense of being the personal assistant to another guest, Krista Rodriguez. But upon further investigation, it turns out she is also the granddaughter of an actress murdered on the set of the 1980 movie The Deepest Cut.”

Olivia tilted her head to one side in contemplation. “Was she even alive in 1980?”

Bertrand shook his head. “No. But her mother was and by all accounts, she was never right again after losing her mother at such a young age. She struggled with lifelong depression and eventually took her own life. She named our esteemed guest in her suicide note.”

Olivia sucked in a breath. “That would be motive.”

“Indeed.”

“So did you tell the police?”

“No.”

“No?”

He shook his head again.

“Why not?”

“Because I read the news article about what happened to that young, aspiring actress. She didn’t deserve what happened to her, but perhaps her murderer did. The evidence was clear, but fame and money made it all just go away.”

“Wow, Bert. I didn’t know you had it in you!” She gave him an approving smile. “Good for you!”

“So, you won’t tell anyone?”

“My lips are sealed.”

******

Three weeks later, Leo discovered in therapy that he had been self-sabotaging his whole life because of deep-seated insecurities stemming from a childhood of neglect, abandonment, and mental abuse at the hands of his father.  

He cooperated with the rest of the program, repaired his public image, and, more importantly, his relationship with his wife.

He returned home to California with her and their two children and they all lived happily ever after.

The End.

[emzi-148]

How Do I Say I Love You?

Fandom: Ninjago (AU)

Pairing: Bruise (one-sided)

Word count: 459

Rating: General

A/N: So... semi-vent(?) with the song “If I Could Tell Her” from Dear Evan Hansen. And this is for the @choicesprompts's Song Rewrite Challenge 2024

❈❈❈❈

Jay sighed, recounting the strained relationship with Morro, his cousin, “I swear, Morro acts like I'm his least favorite person on this entire world.”

Cole leaned in, trying to ease Jay's concerns, “You know, Morro just has a peculiar way of showing affection. Deep down, he thinks you're pretty cool. He just keeps it under wraps.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “Really? Morro, thinking I'm cool? That's hard to believe.”

Cole chuckled nervously, “I'm serious, Bluebell. Want some proof?”

Jay, very intrigued by this, said “Hit me.”

Cole stumbled over his words, his attempt to conceal his true feelings turning into an awkward dance. “I mean, like, the way you light up when you talk about your comics or those train models. Morro might not say it, but he sees it. It's just his own way of acknowledging.”

Jay scratched his head, a puzzled expression on his face, “Morro, into comics and models? That's hard to picture.”

“Yeah, well, people surprise you,” Cole replied, secretly admiring Jay's passion for the things that made him unique.

The conversation shifted to Jay's love for poetry and cooking. “Morro thinks your poems are deep, you know,” Cole said with a sly smile.

Jay scoffed, “Morro, a poetry enthusiast? Now you're pulling my leg.”

Cole chuckled, “Seriously, he does. And those culinary creations of yours? He's probably just too shy to admit he's impressed.”

Jay grinned, seemingly comforted by the notion that his cousin might secretly appreciate his hobbies. “Maybe I've misjudged Morro.”

Unbeknownst to him, Cole stood right there, absorbing every detail, the unsaid words hovering in the air.

As the dialogue between them reached its peak, Cole couldn't shake the weight of his own hidden emotions. “How do you say 'I love you' when you're standing a million worlds apart?” he mused internally.

The great divide between them, an unspoken chasm, echoed with the truth that Cole dared not voice. And so, the conversation continued, each shared interest and comforting word serving as a bittersweet reminder of the love that lingered unspoken in Cole's heart.

Finally, Jay turned to Cole, “You've been quiet. What are you thinking?”

Cole's heart raced as he searched for words, “I just think people are more complex than we give them credit for. Maybe there's more to Morro than meets the eye.”

Jay nodded, “Yeah, you might be right.”

As their conversation peaked, Cole grappled with concealed emotions. The unspoken truth lingered. A silent acknowledgment that Cole admired Jay from a distance.

He noticed, cared, and yearned to reveal everything to Jay. Yet, the vast distance between them felt insurmountable. The fear of shattering their delicate friendship prevented Cole from voicing the feelings on the edge of his thoughts.

If I could tell him, if I could…

[alj4890]

Round Robin

Choices Books/Characters Used So Far: The Royal Romance, Platinum

Word total: 2,552

Masterlist for the Round Robin event

Next writer: @kingliam2019

Hosted by @choicesprompts

Chapter 4 Initial Meeting

"Gah!"

Bertrand jerked awake from the nightmares he'd been trapped in. Sweat beaded his forehead yet he felt chilled to the bone. His breathing was labored as he kicked the covers off of himself. He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and decided that four in the morning was a perfectly acceptable time to give up on sleep.

"How could I possibly rest after that?!" He grumbled.

Slipping his robe on, he quietly left his suite.

The resort he'd secured for this endeavor was on an island off the coast of Cordonia. It had its own airfield, dock, and rolling hills with thick forests to block the hotel from any possible onlookers from the mainland. The front of the hotel faced the ocean and possessed the only beach the island boasted of. The rest was a rocky shore line that few well seasoned boat captains could navigate around.

The secluded area allowed his more famous clients a chance to work through the planned events without paparazzi and the public watching. This would also allow Bertrand to film and have exclusive rights to said progress of these well known individuals.

This has to work, he thought to himself. It must!

Once he made it to the main lobby, he drifted on until he found the hotel's kitchen.

He paused when he heard noise within.

Peering around the corner, he felt both relieved and irritated to see Maxwell rummaging around the industrial size refrigerator.

"Are you still up or have you decided to begin getting up early to start the day off right?"

Maxwell jumped in surprise and whirled around with a large tub of ice cream in his arms.

Bertrand released a resigned sigh at the sight. He knew his brother too well to even hope he had gone to bed at some point during the night.

"What are you doing up so early?" Maxwell asked in order to avoid further questions of his late night activities.

"After the nightmares I've had, I decided that sleep will no longer be of any use."

Bertrand started a nearby coffeepot.

Maxwell found a spoon and hopped up on the counter. Digging in to his tub of Rocky Road, he hummed his concern.

Bertrand rolled his eyes. "Was that an indication of sorrow over my predicament or am I supposed to take it as an inquiry?"

"Both." Maxwell said around a mouthful of heavenly flavors. "What'd you dream about?"

"What else other than the very thing that is weighing heavily upon my mind?" Bertrand grumbled.

"Ah." Maxwell ate another spoonful of ice cream. "How bad was it?"

"Horrible." Bertrand shuddered. "The worst case scenario one could possibly imagine. We were unable to help a wealthy client from Spain reveal her family's questionable background and we had a client murdered by one of our agents."

"Who did the murder?" Maxwell leaned forward with renewed interest.

"Someone I didn't know." Bertrand poured himself a cup of coffee. "It certainly made me rethink my policy of hiring from outside our social status."

After taking a sip, he launched into another rant of how this company had to succeed, that the world was watching and these people needed to be given a chance to prove they could be something other than their reputations.

Maxwell set the tub of ice cream down to search through a nearby cabinet. He came across a bottle of brandy that he figured couldn't hurt. He poured a healthy dose into Bertrand's coffee mug.

"What are you-Maxwell!" Bertrand scolded. "You might be able to flagrantly ignore the pressure we're under, but I--"

"Need to calm down." Maxwell finished for him.

"I can't be drunk on our first official day!" Bertrand argued.

"That teensy splash isn't going to do anything except help you relax." Maxwell pointed out.

Bertrand's jaw dropped when he saw the bottle.

"That's Courvoisier L’Esprit! Do you have any idea how expensive that bottle is?"

Maxwell shrugged. "So? You rented this whole place and all that comes with it. Enjoy it."

"I don't have the luxury of enjoying anything." Bertrand grumbled. "Much less indulging in spirits that costs nearly seven thousand dollars a bottle."

"Live a little." Maxwell patted his back. "It'll do you some good."

"Good? Like it did everyone here?" Bertrand snorted. "All I need to make this company falter is to show I'm no better than they are."

"So they've been caught doing a little bad behavior." Maxwell resumed his ice cream snack. "They're here now, ready to make things right. We'll help them. Word will spread how awesome we are. Badda bing badda boom: everyone wins!"

"Only you could make this sound easy." Bertrand mumbled as he sipped more of his spiked coffee.

"With our people working this, it'll be a piece of cake!" Maxwell exclaimed. "Just you wait and see."

**************

A few hours later, Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, was disabling a computerized lock of one of the suites on the tenth floor. With a satisfied click, the door opened without any further trouble.

Her nose wrinkled at the sight before her. The living room area had been completely trashed. The wet bar was littered with empty tequila bottles and strawberry margarita mixes. Lamps had been knocked over. Couch cushions were dirty from shoe prints. Clothes littered the floor and led the way past half eaten appetizers towards the master suite.

Not even bothering to knock and give warning to the occupants, she stormed into the bedroom and opened up the curtains.

There in the bed lay the client she was given. The sunlight revealed that the infamous musician was sandwiched between one of the resort's staff and one of the three Michelin chefs that worked in the kitchens. The two had the decency to sit up and mumble apologies while Raleigh Carrera casually stretched his naked body.

Olivia rolled her eyes at the sight before her.

"Out." She told his guests.

The two hastily left, swiping up their clothes along the way.

Raleigh groaned over the light and cracked one eye open to see what time it was.

He cursed when he saw that it was barely seven in the morning.

"Why are you in my room?" He grumbled.

"Why else?" Olivia replied. "You agreed to do this."

He rolled over on his back and took a deep breath before glancing her way.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"Olivia Nevrakis." She replied, not fazed at all by him being fully naked. "Duchess of Lythikos."

"Beaumont sent you here for what?" He muttered. "Torture?"

"Trust me, if this was torture," she smirked, "you wouldn't be talking right now."

He snorted as he rolled out of bed. Unabashed at her seeing him in all his glory, and secretly hoping it pissed her off, he walked towards her and paused a hair's breath away from her.

Holding her steady gaze, he reached behind her for one of the half empty tequila bottles.

His brow furrowed when she didn't react to his nearness. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he went past her to look out the window.

The morning light made him wince worse than the alcohol burning down his throat did.

"So?" He said. "I take it you're my shadow that Beaumont was talking about yesterday."

"Correct." Olivia pulled out her phone and began to scroll through some documents that had been sent over the night before. "And you're the PR Nightmare."

He snorted. "Nightmare, huh?" His smile grew hearing that. "I guess you could say that."

"Seems ridiculous to me." Olivia remarked. "Your drinking, carousing, and destruction of private property hardly seems worth my time."

"Giving up on me already, Red?" Raleigh teased. "And after your delightful wake-up call, I thought we'd be friends."

Olivia's chuckle had a cold edge that caught his attention. "Friends? No. I don't do friends with people like you."

His eyes narrowed upon her. "You got a problem with singers or tattooed people?"

"Neither." She replied. "In fact, I'm even slightly fond of someone who has a tattoo." Her own eyes raked dispassionately over him. "What I don't like is someone who rolls over and gives up."

"Gives up?" He threw his bottle down. "On what? What have I given up on?"

"From the few minutes I've been forced to endure your company, I would say self-respect." She shrugged. "I have very little patience as it is, so don't expect me to cheer you on during these next few weeks."

Olivia straightened her suit jacket, and walked out of his bedroom without a second glance.

Raleigh cursed as he chased after her.

"Wait a damn second!" He ordered. "What do you mean, I don't have any self-respect?" He gestured around his room. "What, just because I know how to throw a good party and enjoy life the way I want to; that gives off that I have no self-respect?"

"No." Olivia perched her hip on a table. "The fact that you allowed it to be the only thing you're known for proves you don't have any. Who cares what you do during your private time? You're the only one who has allowed this reputation to develop."

"Hold on!" He ran his hand through his tousled curls. "My former PR reps, the record label; they all demanded I date the new stars to help build up their reputations. I then was told to publicly break up with them and stage wild parties."

Olivia merely raised an eyebrow over that explanation.

"I don't need this shit!" He snapped at her. "Believe whatever the hell you like, but I do other things than screw starlets and trash rooms!"

She didn't even blink over him shouting that last bit.

A knock at his door had him swinging around in agitation to jerk it open.

Maxwell stood there with a camera propped up on his shoulder. His jaw dropped at the sight of the famous singer without a shred of clothing.

"Ummm." He cleared his throat. "I can...uh..."

He swallowed when Olivia appeared behind Raleigh's shoulder.

"Give us a few minutes." She ordered.

"A few minutes for what?" Raleigh griped. "I'm not going to participate in this bullshit another--"

The wind was knocked out of him when Olivia flipped him over her shoulder. He tried to breathe but lost the battle when she straddled his chest, pinned his arms down with her knees, and flipped a dagger in her hand so that the edge was right below his eye.

"Listen closely, because I will not repeat myself." She hissed.

Raleigh heard Maxwell breathe out, "Holy sh--" before Olivia kicked the door closed.

"You desperately need someone to right your image. Your label is already threatening to drop you. Your fans are sick of all the drama you do with fresh faced singers and actors." She told him.

Olivia leaned closer, her words dripping like venom.

"I personally don't care if you waste your life or not. You are nothing to me. You will never be worth my time." She paused. "But, I do have loyalty to the Beaumont's so I will improve your image."

She got off him, replaced her dagger in the strap above her thigh, and straightened her skirt.

"So here's how it is going to go." She informed him. "You're going to get off your hungover ass, get dressed for the camera, and do everything I tell you."

Her eyes narrowed upon him. "If you don't, then your little anonymous community centers in low income neighborhoods will cease to exist."

Raleigh shot up when he heard that.

"You know about those?"

Olivia slowly smiled. "Here's a helpful hint when dealing with me: I know everything before anyone else does."

She motioned towards his bedroom. "Go get dressed."

He got to his feet. "How did Beaumont find out about those? Nobody knows about that."

"Bertrand doesn't know. I conducted my own investigation on you like I do with everyone I interact with." She replied.

Raleigh blinked over that.

The last thing he wanted was for the kids in his old neighborhood to lose out on something to make their lives better. He had plans in place to build more of them across the United States. He couldn't let his true passion die now that he'd found it.

"You really think you can fix my image?" He asked.

"Of course I can." Her smile was full of smugness. "I never fail."

Raleigh took a deep breath and slowly released it. He knew he really didn't have a choice, which stung a bit. Still though, what did he have to lose by letting her try and repair his image? It was either going to work or it wasn't. Couldn't be much worse than what his other agents had attempted.

"Okay." He looked up at her. "I'll do it."

"Get dressed." Olivia ordered on her way to the door. "I'll tell Maxwell we'll be ready to film shortly.

"My nakedness bothering you, Red?" He teased to get a rile out of her.

"Hardly." She rolled her eyes.

"So you do like what you see?" He countered.

She eyed him, a hint of a genuine smile drifted across her lips.

"You're going to wish I did." With that, she stepped out of his room.

***************

A few minutes later, Bertrand joined Maxwell outside of Raleigh's suite.

"How's it going?" He asked.

"Well," Maxwell hedged. "It's, um, it's been an interesting start."

"Really?" Bertrand's excitement couldn't be contained. "Let me see what you have so far."

"Maybe you should wait." Maxwell countered. "I mean, I haven't got all the angles right and I should really get some more footage of--"

"Nonsense!" Bertrand snatched the camera out of his hands. "I've been sitting on pins and needles. I just know that..."

His eyes widened at the sight of Olivia throwing a naked Raleigh Carrera over her shoulder and straddling him.

"Good God!" He screeched. "What on-- why?"

"It's okay!" Maxwell quickly reassured him. "Olivia said Raleigh will be ready in a few minutes. We can--"

"I can't release this to the public!" Bertrand cried out. "We're ruined! Those few seconds of footage will shut us down faster than--"

"People are going to love this!" Maxwell argued.

"Yes. Voyeurs of the worst kind." Bertrand raked his hands through his hair. "No one will ever hire our company again after seeing one of our agents physically attacking a client."

He groaned as the realization struck him. "My nightmares have become true."

"But I think--"

They both became silent when Raleigh opened the door once again. He was clean, dressed in his usual rocker style, and actually had a pleasant smile on his face.

"Sorry for the wait." He jerked his head towards his room. "I'm ready when you are to start filming."

Bertrand' gaped at the man. "You are?"

"Yeah." Raleigh glanced back at Olivia. "Gotta do something to fix this, right?"

"Er, right." Bertrand cleared his throat. "Well then. Maxwell, don't keep the man waiting."

He pushed his brother into the room. "I'll leave you to it, then."

Bertrand forced a smile as Raleigh shut the door then sagged back against the opposite wall.

"Oh thank God." He whispered.

With this strangely auspicious start, he wondered how the other initial meetings were going.