Tear In My Heart
Aemond never cared for tourneys, for hunts, nor for any sort of pageantry; he supposed marriage fell in that category. To be frank, he never cared for you either, but then he heard whispers about you and his brother, and then thought, maybe he somehow did.
Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader x Aegon Targaryen | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has baratheon feature (dark hair), wife!reader, arranged marriage, jealousy, possessiveness, infidelity, men being men, angst, violence/hunting for sport/death, typos, etc.
A/N: mind the tags! This is part of my graduation celebration 🩷🩷🩷🩷 slayed college. Let's pretend I posted this on schedule lmao. The hotd trailers really brought me to life. Part of this fic is inspired by the 2014 french beauty and the beast film.
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa @lxdyred
Brother.
What was he?
The word was a stone, heavy but worthless. Nothing ever came from a brother besides bluntness, brashness, and bludgeoning burdens.
No kindness befell Aemond from his brother Aegon. Likewise, Aegon long knew to expect nothing but vexation from Aemond.
Yet even the most broken of bonds are bound back under the great unifier— Death.
Never before had the brothers worked towards a common goal so fast, so easily, and all without needing to utter a word. Together, they carry their game back to their camp, equally ignoring the burn of their arms.
Aemond loathed hunting expeditions. He loathed it then, he wholeheartedly abhorred it now. He regrets forcing himself into this godforsaken trip. He should have let you go on it alone, like always.
He regrets letting his slimy older brother getting under his skin. He regrets listening to all the rumors about Aegon and you. But in his defense—
"I MAY BE BLIND IN ONE EYE," Aemond snaps, causing you to flinch. He had never raised his voice at you like this before. He despises how shocked you look, how your bright eyes accused that he was wrong. It makes him fume, "but I see clearer than most."
Aemond is further irritated when your eyes began to water.
You, who was otherwise so well-kept and pristine, were falling apart in front of him. The wayward strands of dark hair framing your face irked him. The momentary thought of his children inheriting this trait added fuel to his anger. If, that is, whatever child you'd bear was even his to begin with.
"You are whoring yourself to my bovine brother!"
Your chest heaves heavily beneath your nightgown, "you would happily believe any slander to my name."
He scoffs when tears begin to fall from your cheeks. He paces towards the bed, unbothered if the issue is left unresolved. He'd rather sleep than watch you sob. The latter left a rather bitter taste in his mouth.
"What have I been but docile and serving?"
"Serving?" Aemond turns back, one eye narrowed, "to whom? Your greed and lust?"
"TO YOU!"
Aemond slightly pulls his head back, not expecting you to scream. He watches a spirit take over you. It was similar to that of the one that sometimes causes him to stare at you from across the room.
You suck in a breath, "do you not complain about Aegon day in and day out?" You blink rapidly and point harshly, "do you not wish him away and want him out of your hair, husband?"
"Don't you twist the truth for your-"
"I played his keeper so that you wouldn't have to," you motion, "I kept him in check so that you could do your errands, help your grandfather, go on your dragon rides, and yet you say you see clearer than most?"
"I saw you," he hisses, grabbing your shoulders.
You gasp and go rigid.
"I saw you embrace him in the cloak of night, in the corner of the gardens, where you thought no one could see."
You catch betrayal in his words, but it only causes you to chuckle dryly, "had you not lurked in the darkness, you'd have known he vomited on my shoulder and nearly passed out. Perhaps you would have felt compelled to help me drag him to his chambers."
Aemond clenches his jaw. He does not believe you.
You swat his hands away. You shake your head, "you're just a man. You're bored of what you have and want what you cannot."
"Ha. You are delusional if you think I want you."
You cannot help the sound that leaves your lips. You cannot help how you slap a hand to your mouth.
In that split second, Aemond spots the hurt on your face before you walk past him to your side of the bed.
You pull the covers down, "worry not. I've long accepted you will never want me."
"Oh," he growls, grabbing your arm before you can sit down, "and is that why you turn to my brother? Or why you leap at every chance to leave?'"
You wince as you turn to him.
"Now that I think about it, why is it you're invited to hunting expeditions so often?" Aemond demands under an angered breath, "d'you seek refuge in the-"
"I RUN INTO THE FOREST!" you hiss, shoving him away. His grip left a sting on your flesh and you rub it as you continue to burstp, "I run into the forest and let my instincts take over! I let myself shift into a beast and I run wild like a deer, begging to be shot down."
Aemond expression sours at your reaction.
"I live my curse as a Baratheon woman and morph into a doe, bullied by stags and dragons alike," you shudder, tears running down your face.
"Don't you play the victim here," he rebuts, "your family offered you to mine for power."
"Then why is it that I am so powerless, husband?"
Aemond doesn't bother watching you walk away, slamming the door shut on your way out.
Aggravation spills from his mouth through screams when silence drowns him. There is an ache in his chest that intensifies. It doesn't take long for him to question why he felt so hurt when what he was is angry, angry at you.
He then finds himself imagining you throwing yourself at Aegon, weeping on his lap. He imagines Aegon brushing your dark tresses back and drying your tears. It infuriates him more.
And as he convinced himself whilst in fumes that the reason why he hated your leave was how rudely you left, parts of his nightmares where coming true.
Aegon saw you storming down the hall in nothing but a nightgown, a cloak, and tears. He was too drunk to actually ascertain if you had no shoes on, but he was partially sure that there were truly tears running down your neck.
He was shocked by how shocked you were when he grabbed you by the arms and stopped you in your tracks. He knew you to have eyes that could spot a needle in a haystack, or real jewels from fake ones ten paces away. How could you not have noticed him when he wasn't even trying to hide how he staggered down the halls on his way back to his room?
"Spooked, kitty cat?" Aegon furrows his brows.
Your skin definitely had a damp sheen to it. Your gaze upon him somehow always hurt his thorax but it was amplified now with how puffy and red your eyes were.
"Where 'r'you storming off to?" he slurs.
You push him away, but even then you managed to offer consideration, as it was clear he was one shove away from dropping. You say, "unhand me, Aegon. I have no time for you tonight."
He pouts, blinking slowly, "and here I thought we were friends now."
You laugh. Your laugh has always had the power to make his spine tingle, but it was different this time. You shake your head, "the enemy of my enemy is not my friend."
Aegon slowly releases you. He clenches his jaw and sighs, "so it's Aemond who did this."
You scoff as you break away from him, "oh, spare me."
He watches you walk away from him. He feels hurt by your coldness. How quickly Aemond reaps your warmth. He calls out, "from what?"
You stop and snap from over your shoulder, "from whatever it is you think you can do!"
He was sober now, and his throat was dry at that.
"My burden is mine. I am his wife."
"And am to be king," he whispers, taking a step forward. He watches as you heave. He's long wondered what it would feel like to hear it as you did so beneath him.
"But you are not king," you reply, stepping back to maintain the space between you, "and you have your sister wife."
"Who would deny me?" he peers his face closer to you, "even a fool would deny me nothing."
"I would," you rebut.
He freezes.
"I am prize to you," you muffle out. Your manage an even voice even as hurt baptizes your cheeks, "meat between your teeth. You and him are cut from the same cloth."
"I AM NOT MY BROTHER, " Aegon snaps.
You flinch, just as you did Aegon. You shake your head and force a smile, "of course not, your grace."
The next moment, Aegon realizes he may not have been as sober as he thought, considering how quickly you fled him and how delayed his reaction to it was.
But then again, it was probably just you and your effect on him. After all, he managed to evade the incoming attack from behind, albeit momentarily; Aemond's senses were far shaper than Aegon's.
He grabs his older brother by the collar and shoves him against the wall. "All my life, I watched you be spoon-fed your desires, yet still you covet my bride," the younger Targaryen rages.
Aegon grins in challenge. He chuckles, "as it appears, you covet your own wife from me, brother."
Without warning, the first born is hurtled to the ground. He lets out an undignified grunt after he collides with the stone. He gasps when Aemond lunges at him.
It was only at this moment, he realized his brother without his eye patch. Dare he say that the sight of the sapphire added to the madness in is functioning eye.
Aemond produces a dagger and presses it to Aegon's neck. The former seethes, "I have every right to demand satisfaction from you."
Aegon groans when the cold steel kisses his skin too tenderly.
"You wouldn't last a second against me," the prince spits with venom, "brother."
"Do it then," Aegon screws his eyes shut, "and watch your marriage crumble before your very eyes."
Aemond throws his dagger to the side and slams Aegon once, "DO NOT TRY TO TRICK ME! I saw her reel from your touch."
"Oh," he utters through pain, "just as she reels from you, I bet."
Aemond releases him with a growl and heaves while looking down at him. He paces around; Aegon props himself up on his elbows, slowly coming to a stand.
Before Aegon can goad him on any further, Aemond grabs his dagger and pushes past him.
Both of them anxiously await your return that night. Aegon falls asleep whilst waiting for word from a servant, Aemond fights sleep whilst waiting for you to return to bed.
Yes, in Aemond's defense, the rumors about you and his brother was enough reason to pick a fight. In his defense, it was his right.
And for the first time, when you received invite for that hunting expedition with your cousin, no longer did he send you off on your own. He was keen to keep you at his side at all times, especially because Aegon weaseled his way into joining.
Aemond did not know why your cousin was so against the idea of hunting a stag. He was, in fact, offended by the Baratheon's adamant decline. The lesser lord dared even imply such a beast was beyond his caliber. He wasn't surprised you sided with your him, imploring Aemond to try his hand another season. What spurred him on was how Aegon agreed with you and how you looked at him when he smiled your way.
Yet, the spite he bore for his brother was the same thing that led to cooperation with him.
That night, when you thought he was sleeping, Aemond followed you outside. When you were nowhere to be seen when he got out of your shared tent, he stormed to his brother's, sure to catch you in the act.
All he got was a startled brother, cuddling up to a pillow when he ripped his blanket off, a naked one at that.
And after a bit of arguing, Aemond saw a shadow of a deer passing outside the tent. That was how the brothers ended up in the forest. Aemond was intent to hunt that stag and Aegon was intent to watch him fail.
Again, in his defense, it was dark. In his defense, of course he wouldn't believe Aegon when he said that they were stalking a doe and not a stag.
Aemond was satisfied with his shot when he heard the beast cry out in pain. Aegon was satisfied when they found the writhing deer to be, in fact a doe.
It was common knowledge not to hunt the female of a species, yet the two debated whether or not they should let the injured animal go free or put it out of its misery. They thought they received the answer when the animal dropped in agony, but instead they received horror that would last them lifetimes upon witnessing the beast morph into a bride.
Your bare body laid before them, stomach pierced with an arrow. No traces of a doe was left, there was only pain and you. Tremors took over your body. Yolur tears flowed as steady as the blood from your gaping wound.
Aemond fell to your side, eye wide as he reached out to you. He thought a touch of your trembling flesh wake him from this nightmare, but it didn't. His mind raced, but he had a moment of clarity when he felt your blood dampen his knees.
He took off his shirt and covered you. You screamed in pain when he tried to carry you by himself, and he glared at his brother when he tried to help.
Aemond does not stop him however, thus, the brothers carried your body back to camp.
When you were laid on your shared bed, Aemond ordered Aegon to wake everyone and ready a carriage back to the city. His brother runs off to do just that.
"This will hurt," Aemond tells you, "but I must cut part of the arrow and bind your wound."
Before he can do so, you wet his face with the blood on your hand as you whine, "why do you weep for me?"
Aemond's brows furrow.
You swipe your thumb on his cheek with great difficulty. "Soon you will have the freedom you desire," you mumble, eyes slowly closing, "as will I."
The pain that courses through you when your husband breaks off part of your arrow prevents you from passing out.
As an extra precaution, Aemond taps your cheek, "keep your eyes fixed on me."
Your sad eyes open. Your tears gush down like rain.
"Is this why you're invited to hunt so often?" he cups your cheek, shaking you slightly, "does your cousin, himself, turn into a stag?"
Your reply does not come easy. You speak between your breaths, "it is a curse from my father... for hunting so many of them..."
There is commotion from outside your tent.
Aemond has the mind to grab some fabric to press on your wound. You cry out again because of this.
"Why didn't you tell me of your affliction?" he speak in panic.
Stabbing pain cuts off the laugh you meant to laugh. Your breath shortens, yet you manage a response, "would you have listened?"
He must admit, all the prayers he ever prayed were only uttered to please his mother, but as Aemond held half your body in the carriage back to King's Landing, as he watched Aegon's tears fall onto you while he held your other half, he prayed as earnestly as any pious man would. He claimed he would be better, he would even share you, if that is what it took to keep you.
And just as easily as Death unified the Targaryen brothers, she collected your soul the same night.
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When it comes to love you're just as blinded.
Part Eight
Eminem x Musician
Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.
Note: A real long one. Honestly don't know how I did it but it was one session and now I'm dead, hopefully it's good enough! Lots of cuteness though and another snippet with Danny! Be warned cake mix is too baking. So :)
| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2
taglist: @thelastemzy
Masterlist
“This is a bad idea, right?”
“Oh, for sure.”
“Marsh.” I admonished, sighing as I rolled my head to the left to level him with a long look before my eyes eventually wandered back on over to the store’s front.
“What? You said it.” Marshall chuckled lowly, hands interlocked in his lap.
We were currently sat in the car park of a Trader Joe's, in a spot at a roundabout the midway mark. I hadn’t thought too much of the ask during my sudden excitement to roam around a grocery store I’d yet to see (What? I was showing my age. Bite me.). But it was now hitting me at full force.
“Why’d you say yes anyway?” I was quick to shoot back at him, voice a tad bit strained. I shook my head and eventually resolved into brushing the whole idea away, “Let’s just forget it.”
A scoff and Marshall was rolling his eyes at the notion, “We’re already here. No point in leavin’ now.”
“We didn’t think this through though. I mean, what if somebody spots us?” I pointed out, gaze already surveying the mostly empty parking lot for the next potential pap.
“You make it out like we’re about to case the joint,” Em snorted, earning a wry smile off of me in retort, a reaction I couldn’t quite help. “Said you wanted to bake a cake, so we gonna. ‘Cause I’ll let you know now, I ain’t got the shit to make this back at the house.”
I blew a soft breath from out of my nose, vaguely amused. “No shit.” I replied, unable to imagine the man in a frilly pink apron and covered in flour on a casual Tuesday afternoon. I ended up sighing again anyway, “You sure? I mean, I could just run in.”
Marshall was already shaking his head at me, “Nah, it’ll be fine. If you really that worried you can take my cap. Or think I got another hoodie in the trunk.”
Blinking, I was unable to say much else before Em was hopping out and rounding the car to pull apart the contents of his boot. He muttered away, mostly to himself, before he returned a couple of moments later, standing by the driver’s door with an oversized hoodie in his hand. He held it out towards me and I found myself taking it with a gentle smile in thanks.
It didn’t take long for me to tug the jumper on over my head, the hood messing up my hair and catching on the seat belt before I had the commonsense to just unbuckle the stupid thing. Marshall watched the struggle with a mirthful smirk, the silver watch on his wrist glinting in the sunlight from where it rested against the edge of the door, until he eventually moved to close it, cropping up outside of the passenger’s side a second later. He tugged on the handle and I blinked over at him when a gust of wind washed over me.
I guessed I must have looked a tad bit pathetic as I turned in my seat to face him, legs moving to dangle out the side of the car, or at least it felt that way, what with how Marshall’s expression had since settled into something almost akin to fondness.
My nose wrinkled just as he let go of a soft laugh. It was a sound I found myself feeling a hint of pride about whenever I heard it, even if it meant that I was the victim of the current joke.
“Here, let me.” He spoke, already reaching out to fix my hood and to brush a tangled strand of hair behind my ear. If he heard the way my breath hitched at the sudden motion he didn’t mention it, but I witnessed how his keen eyes flickered back and forth between my own. “There. Screams incognito.”
Snorting at the heavy use of sarcasm, I smiled up at him, only to notice then how he’d crowded himself between my legs to help aid me. My stomach swooped at the realisation and I swallowed thickly, but before I could question the feeling, Marshall was stepping away again, sporting a wry grin of his own.
“Need my hat, Kim Possible? Or you good?”
Rolling my eyes, I shuffled further forward in my seat to jump out of the SUV, feet hitting the gravel with an audible scuff. “She doesn’t wear a hat and even if she did, I doubt it’d be Kangol.” I retorted, slipping by him to reach out and shut the door.
“Aye, what’s wrong with my cap?” Marshall prodded as the headlights flashed behind us to signal the car locking. I noticed how his brow had wrinkled at the slight when I looked over at him and so I nudged my shoulder with his as we walked across the lot.
“Nothing.” I claimed with a growing smile, reaching up to knock the brim of his hat just as we made it to the entrance. “Suits you.”
Marshall hummed a sound that was vaguely disbelieving, eyes lingering on me before he turned to pick up a basket. “Know what you need?”
“Sort of.” I replied distractedly, trying to take everything in. “This place is like every Hallmark movie I’ve ever seen come to life.”
“The fuck?”
Rolling my eyes, I just continued on, walking past Marshall, who’d since paused to shoot a bewildered glance my way, and towards a horde of fruit and veg stalls. “It’s just so fuckin’ American. Back home the closest place you’d get to this is a Big Tesco’s and even that’s like a standard food shop. This. It’s something straight out of one of them films.”
“It’s Trader Joe’s.” Marshall deadpanned, blinking back at me now with an expression that just had me cracking up.
“Stop making me feel dumb.” I rebuked lightly, head darting every which way as he slid on over to catch up to me before he then barrelled straight past. I let him lead, figuring he’d be better off knowing where everything could possibly be more than I ever would. “It’s just a big change, ‘s all.”
His cheek twitched with the beginnings of a smirk. “Everything's a big change with you.”
I poked his side in retaliation, pleased when he bristled but didn’t comment further on it. “Where do you reckon cake mix would be then?” I wondered out loud, peering around the aisle we were headed down. Honestly, cereals galore. Captain Crunch, Coco Pops, Cinnamon Toast Crunch… And those were just the C’s. Hang on a second, Eggo’s?
“Cake mix?” Em questioned me, flicking a raised brow my way and tugging me from my observations, “Bitch, I thought you was bakin’.”
Snorting, I couldn’t do much other than shrug. “It is baking!” I attempted to defend, but he was having none of it, shaking his head mockingly back at me. “Just the easier version?” I attempted to argue sheepishly.
I was rewarded with a soft tut, but Marshall did in fact then tilt his head over towards the right to signal where he figured the box mixes might be, “Cheat.”
Giving into the childish urge, I poked my tongue out at him and dipped around the next corner, smiling at the way his low humoured huff followed after me. It was only when I saw an all too extensive stock of baking goods parked up ahead that I quickened my pace, leaving him to trail behind.
“What do you reckon then, red velvet or vanilla? You sort of seem like a vanilla guy.” I commented when he finally caught up, gaze flitting between the two cake mixes I’d since picked up off the shelf before my eyes then darted over to meet his teasingly as he approached.
He kissed his teeth and batted the box of vanilla I held away from his view, rolling his eyes even though we both could see that he was trying to withhold another grin. I allowed the motion. “You don’t know me at all.” Marshall scoffed, getting in my space once more today to make a grab for a box sitting on the shelf just above my head. “All about the chocolate, sweetheart.”
Biting my tongue, I worked hard to keep my face from giving way to how the proximity seemed to make my skin prickle. His eyes found mine though as he held the winning mix up between the two of us. I swiped it from his hold, scanning over the necessary ingredients to keep myself from focusing too much on– whatever it was I was feeling. “Hm, only need to add eggs and milk. Could deck this out though.”
“Whatchu thinkin’?” Em asked me in that way he usually did, like he was genuinely invested in everything I had to say. He’d propped his forearm up on the shelf as he waited for me to weigh in and my stare tracked its way up from the back of the box to roam over the steady way he was now watching me. I reached up to tuck another fallen strand of hair behind my ear, the hood making the typically effortless action that much harder.
“A shit ton of chocolate?” I proposed with a raised brow.
“That mean you gone put my kid to sleep then?” He said, then snickered at my sudden change in expression, the corner of his lip tugging upwards. “Z will be bouncin’ off the walls.”
“It’ll be portioned!” I rebuted in the face of his amusement, quick to fall back on all my so-called years of parenting, “She’ll be fine!”
Marshall snorted in retort but appeared to relent, pinching the cake mix from my hand and throwing it into the basket haphazardly, “I’ll be sure to bring this moment back up when I’m right.” He added before he took off, probably in search of the confectionary aisle.
But see, since knowing the man, I’d long since come to realise that he had a big enough sweet tooth that could rival that of my own, meaning that all this posturing back and forth about decking out the cake was just a facade of sorts, him attempting to put my neck on the line for when the fallout eventually happened. I couldn't bring myself to mind though, not when he was wearing that stupid smug smile and not even when he ended up tossing a majority of the chocolate we’d collected into the basket.
I ended up grinning all the way back to the car.
“See! It was well worth it now, don’t you reckon?” I said with a sardonic smile, covered in cake mix, egg and frosting, my dirtied hands settled on my hips as I stared down at the hazardous cake we’d gone and created.
My head tilted just so, allowing myself to look at it from a normal perspective seeing as it had somehow managed to slant far left whilst it’d been baking in the oven. But I blamed Em for that one, the idiot having set the temperature up way too high.
“What, so we can cover up the monstrosity?” Marshall shot back at me from where he was stood by the kitchen sink, washing his hands free of all the frosting he’d been licking from the bowl moments before I’d stolen it out from under him. “Yeah, but you know what they say, a pig in lipstick is still a pig.”
Haughtily, I spun around on my heel just enough for my hip to press against the counter and for my eyes to hone in on him. I smirked, “Saying’s actually, a hog in armour is still but a hog.”
“Same fuckin’ thing.” Marshall admonished in a grunt, flicking his sopping wet hands out at me when he pulled away from the sink in search of something to dry them with. I tensed at the attack, feeling the splatter hit me before I peered down to spot a couple soup duds clinging to my arm and the collar of my top. He just chuckled, greatly amused.
“Dick.” I huffed and picked up an M&M from the bowl I’d just poured the bag into to toss back at him in retaliation.
Irritatingly, Marshall managed to snap the treat up out of the air with ease, pushing the blue ball forward on his tongue to flash it tauntingly between his teeth before he finally chewed on it. The crunch resonated in the quiet hum of the house. “You were sayin’?”
I narrowed my eyes, “Show off.”
But all that did was earn me another light laugh, Em sliding on closer to pinch a few more from the same bowl. “I’m just that good.” He retorted egotistically, before he turned to level me with the last M&M he held, titling his chin ever so slightly to goad me into trying to catch one myself.
Relenting to the fight all too easily, I braced myself in a steady stance and waited. When he tossed it, I managed to extend my neck near enough that I was close to capturing the colourful sweet, but just not close enough, my nose scrunched in annoyance when it bounced off the side of my cheek and onto the counter with a clatter. “Fuck.” I sighed, but not one to be outdone I looked towards him again, “Again.”
He raised a single brow at the demand but followed, picking up another handful and smiling as he prepared to pelt them my way one by one. It was something we continued on with for a short while, tossing the things back and forth between us as we tallied up a score, he was winning of course, but surprisingly I wasn’t too far behind, which actually eased the loss a fair bit.
We were actually at it long enough that we’d begun to squabble, calling one another a cheat, aiming for anything other than our mouths, even going as far as to switch up tactics by propping ourselves up on counters and barstools to annoy the other, before then crouching down as low as we could on Marshall’s tiled floors. It was there that we were eventually found.
Marshall spotted her first, arm already propped up before him and preparing to aim when his eyes shifted over to the left and caught sight of something standing in the kitchen doorway. His grin wobbled in further amusement, most likely due to the face I’d gone and pulled when I followed his line of sight, still stuck in my current position; squatting by the backdoor.
We were trying for a record, okay?
“Hey creep, what’s with the face?” Marshall greeted, his laughter carrying throughout the room when he finally tossed the chocolate treat my way only for it to actually make it into my mouth this time around, hitting the roof and sending my startled frown into a gasping smile.
Rosie was stood there, just off to the side by the counter now, seemingly content to simply watch us with a soft, goading smile on her face, her school bag settled by her feet. She shrugged, glancing over at her dad whilst I bounced on back to where I’d left Em to guard our semi-completed cake. “Nice to come home to noise, is all.”
The tip of Marshall’s nose did something odd then, a reaction to the words that went unnoticed by the girl, but he continued on smiling, dropping the few remaining M&M’s he held back into the packet we’d opened once the bowl had run dry.
“Didn’t hear you come in.” He mentioned as he rounded the counter to pull his daughter into a hug, steering her away from the onslaught of chocolate that littered the side when Rosie attempted to make a grab for the nearest share-pack of Hershey’s Kisses. “Nuh-uh. Dinner first, kid, then we can talk about you gettin’ a slice of our masterpiece.”
“Masterpiece?” Rosie’s eyes widened as she gifted the two of us a disbelieving snort, gaze jumping back between her dad and me, I narrowed my eyes playfully in retort whilst Marshall settled for poking her dimpled cheek. “It looks like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”
“Hey!” I chided, just as Marshall responded with, “What we were aimin’ for.”
The pair of us shared a mirthful look before we both started cracking up, Rosie merely shook her head at our antics but it was with the distraction that she finally managed to grab a wrapped Kiss. My eyes widened at the flash of silver I caught sight of just as she darted around the island to escape Em’s outstretched arms when he caught on too, crowding into my side when he shot her a long look, obviously hoping to put her off eating the treat. But it was already unwrapped and on her tongue before I could even blink back down at her.
I snorted, forever amused by the duo’s antics, and ran a hand over the girl’s plaited scalp. “Snooze you lose, Mathers.” I said encouragingly with a lazy shrug.
Z grinned at the show of support and sent a smug look back at her father, baring her chocolate covered teeth to him. Marshall leant forward so that his palms could press against the countertop and levelled the two of us with another long look, only this one was out of exasperation.
Rosie and I shared a glance of anticipation before we both turned back to face him with a matching set of innocent smiles, Rosie doing a much better job than me seeing as she could work that whole doe eyed perspective. Em heaved a hefty sigh. “Dinner, then cake. Cool?”
The girl beamed and was quick to nod her assent, squeezing my waist in what must have been a delayed embrace of hello, or maybe thanks, before she took a moment to assess our handy work. The cake was sparsely decorated, topped with a plethora of icing, at Marshall’s demand, and scattered with pieces of chocolate that we’d managed to stick on during our M&M disaster. I grimaced a tad whilst Em just looked on in pride.
“This is what you did whilst I was at school?” Z asked, dipping down to get a closer look at the disaster we dubbed a cake. Her expression truly was hilarious when she slowly stood again to dart a quizzical look between us.
“What d’you mean ‘this’?” Marshall answered her, raising a brow high enough to rival his daughter's own. “This is where hard work gets you.”
“Yeah,” I laughed, only adding fuel to the fire with my next comment, “Besides, we made it just for you. Don’t you like it?” I asked teasingly, batting my eyes over at her in hopes to see her crumble just a tad.
Rosie looked back at the sad excuse of a cake and didn’t falter, “Cake is cake. But next time you guys should probably wait for me.”
“Oh, ‘cause you’re such a chef.” Marshall smirked, having moved to join us on the other side of the island to allow his eyes to roam over the tilting structure, he shucked Z’s chin in addition which only earnt him a prod to his bicep.
“A baker, actually.” Rosie corrected with a smile, ever so pleased with herself.
“Oo,” Em dragged out, taking a stripe of frosting off the cake’s side just so that he could wipe it across the tip of the kid’s nose. “She’s a smartass, too.”
Rosie’s eyes widened in alarm to the smear and her jaw dropped as she gasped, not having anticipated the move. “Dollar!” She exclaimed in turn, wiping the chocolate off her nose before smearing it down her dad’s front.
With a roll of his eyes, Marshall huffed but it was more of a chuckle than an actual sigh as he looked back up from his ruined tee. “Touche.” They shared a laugh as Em went to grab a kitchen towel to wipe his hands clean with, “Go ‘n grab my wallet.” He told her and I watched on as Z did exactly that, swiping a green bill from its contents so that she could go and stuff it in the jar.
I shook my head ever so at the dynamic they made, continuing to smile as Marshall dropped the tissue he’d just been using into the bin before he made a grab for his daughter, causing her to jump and laugh as they tumbled about the kitchen together. I was perfectly content to watch on, slowly packing away the ingredients we had yet to use whilst wiping down the sides, the pair of them eased up after a minute or two, making their way back to the island, Marshall still defending our chocolate monstrosity.
“It’ll taste good, so who cares what it looks like?”
“Most people, Dad.” Rosie countered with a sly smile as she settled onto a barstool, handing over a frosting covered spoon that had apparently strayed during our decorating. I smiled softly in thanks, grabbing the other utensils that littered the space and crossing the floor to wash up.
“I got that.” Marshall assured me, hip checking my side before I could even reach for the dish soap.
My forehead wrinkled, “I don’t mind.”
He smiled in return, already moving to further roll up his sleeves, “I know, but I got it.”
I let it go, knowing when to pick and choose my fights with him now, and instead wandered back to see if I could make the cake work, picking up a couple of Whoppers that were supposedly meant to be the equivalent of a Maltesers, but I just couldn’t taste it.
“Can I help?” Rosie asked after a moment, capturing my attention when she sidled up to join me.
“‘Course,” I replied easily, already handing over the bag, “I think if we just cover it with as much chocolate as we can it’ll look…”
“Better than it does?” Z finished for me, her giggles spilling from her lips seamlessly whilst she began to dot Whoppers around the rim of the highest tier.
“Hey, it’s not that bad.” I tried, nudging her elbow with mine, but ended up chuckling too. “It was your dad’s fault anyway, all my previous cakes have turned out perfect.”
“I can still hear you.” Marshall’s voice cut in from behind us, garnering our focus for a split second before I waved him off.
“Yeah, yeah. Just letting Z here know I’m not to blame.” I told him, scattering the remaining M&M’s we had to spare over the top, managing to cover up some of the frosting we’d gone and butchered with a colourful swirl. Rosie snickered, having since switched up with her choice of chocolate so that she could place a few Kisses to the lower layers.
“I was just followin’ your instructions.” Em argued with me, the huff that followed was evident.
“Not well!”
A giggle had me smiling down at Rosie, who was happy enough to let her gaze drift between the two of us. “I bet it still tastes good.” She interrupted, trying to soothe her father’s bruised ego probably. But it was sweet enough to have me agreeing.
“Yeah, I mean who doesn't like chocolate?”
–
Dinner was apparently a Mathers Household classic. Spagbol. Or well just spaghetti to these lot. Something I hadn’t been able to let slide what with me being a fan. Though Marshall seemed amused rather than put off by my attempts at rapping the opening to Lose Yourself whilst he’d cooked, something which earnt me points with Rosie seeing as she could spit it far better than the composer himself.
It was sort of strange to be a witness to him doing such a mundane task like cooking though, but I enjoyed it all the same, watching him talk with Rosie about school as he drained the pasta and added a couple of herbs to the ground mince. An odd sense of privilege came with the slight peak into his daily life, figuring that most would have just expected him to have a live-in chef or a plethora of meals waiting to be reheated in his fridge. But no, Marshall appeared to actually enjoy the activity, enjoy the hush of music that played overhead whilst the steam from a boiling pot simmered under his steady hand, enjoy how slowly the process came together so that he could boss Rosie and I into setting the table when the food was almost ready.
Rosie had led me into the dining room they used, a room more intimate than the larger one the man had shown me during his grand tour, obviously used for when he had more than just one person over. As I set down a couple placemats, I guessed it was a room that only he and Rosie typically got use out of, the table circular and just large enough so that you had your own space but could easily be roped into another’s. It reminded me of the one we’d had as a kid, wooden, small and quaint, but that had been before one of mum’s boyfriends had fallen through it.
“You okay?” Rosie’s questioning broke me from my thoughts and I looked up to find her settling a fork down onto the mat opposite.
I blinked and then smiled, feeling how easy the gesture came to me. “Just lost in thought.”
She smiled too, hers crinkling the corners of her eyes as she finished setting up by dropping the last spoon down. “It’s nice having you here, you know. Sometimes it’s quiet just me and Dad, even when Ayla comes over.” She remarked, mentioning her older sister with the kind of sincerity that you only really held for your siblings, “You make him laugh, too. Like a lot.”
Blowing out a soft breath that sounded more like a chuckle, I reached out to fix a placemat that was a tad bit crooked, finding it simpler to focus on the small task rather than what the meaning behind Rosie’s words might possibly mean. “He makes me laugh too.” I replied and shot her a slight grin, it was then that Marshall emerged carrying two plates.
“And voila.” The man said as he set the dishes down, butchering the French word enough to have me hiding an indulgent smile.
“Smells good.” I commented, watching as a plethora of steam erupted up off the mountain shaped plate of spaghetti.
Em flashed me a bright grin, an actual one with teeth that had my mind short circuiting for a split second before he was speaking again, “Lemme grab the last one. You want some drinks?”
Rosie, who had already settled into the seat she’d been standing behind, nodded eagerly in answer, “Soda?” When she received a single brow in retort, she giggled and relented, “Juice, please.”
Smiling at the exchange, I was only caught a little off guard when I looked back at Marshall to find him waiting on my own reply, I silently scrambled for an answer, “Um, just water, please.” I said and he gave a dip of his chin to show he’d heard before he turned to head back to the kitchen. “Want help?” I called out, just managing to catch him before he slipped past the hall.
He looked ready to wave the offer off, before he thought about it. Three drinks and a single plate was easy work for a girl who’d worked a majority of her teens in pub restaurants and the like, but Marshall seemed to realise the slight struggle he might face. “Sure.”
As easy as that. Or so it only appeared, because from the expression that clouded Rosie’s face when I glanced back over to shoot her a quick smile, the exchange seemed to have perplexed her ever so.
Em had already continued on his route to the kitchen when I looked back to him, hoping to catch something in his answer to the face she’d pulled, but it seemed he hadn't been witness to it at all. “You okay?” I found myself asking, mimicking Z’s earlier question.
She looked a little startled when her eyes flew up to find mine, before she blinked and blew out a gentle laugh. “Didn’t think he’d go down without a fight.”
And oh. I had to chuckle a little at that too, having seen the way he’d been so prepared to deny the help just before he’d nodded. It made me wonder how much she’d bared witness to throughout the years. Em was strong, yes, but he also had a stubborn streak a mile long.
“What can I say, Z?” I sighed dramatically as I headed towards the door, “I just have a way with people.”
Her cheeky grin was the last thing I saw before I was padding around the corner and then into the kitchen, finding Em stood by the counter with a bowl of grated cheese and the drinks we’d asked for already waiting to be picked up again.
I snorted softly at the picture he painted, a handful of the shredded cheese halfway to his mouth and face only a tad bit surprised. He flipped me off as I came around to take hold of the drinks, only furthering my amusement.
“I mean, what an appetiser.” I teased, the words followed by a bout of giggles when he flicked the remnants at me. Thankfully though, most of the cheese only made it about halfway over the countertop, causing my grin to widen that much more.
Marshall went to pick up another load and so I squeaked, grabbing the drinks and darting back out of the room before he could toss it at me.
I was chuckling away to myself by the time I made it back to the table, Rosie having already started in on her dinner, the dead giveaway being the slight red smear of sauce that stained her lower lip even as she pretended that she’d just been waiting patiently for us to return.
I wiped the corner of my own mouth after settling down her juice in an attempt to warn her and watched as her eyes widened before she cleared the smear away with the back of her hand, the action seemingly saving her from another one of Em’s disapproving looks because not a second Marshall reappeared.
Taking to my seat in an attempt to hide my slight smile, I thanked him for the food, to which the man merely rolled his eyes, ignoring the gratitude altogether. I bit down on my smirk and instead opted for shaking my head as I picked up my fork.
The food was honest to God some of the best I’d had in a long while, whether it was down to it having been ages since someone had cooked a proper homemade meal for me or just him having mastered the art of the dish, I didn’t know. But I made sure to tell him.
Never in all my life would I have expected to have been a witness, let alone the cause of the light flush that coloured the tips of his ears. But it was impossibly endearing, so much so that I refrained from playfully mocking him for it. Rosie though, had no such qualms. “You look a little red, Dad. You gettin’ sick?”
If Marshall could have he would have scowled at the ask, but this was his baby and so I knew that the smile he gifted her as he turned was levelled with a strained edge. “Fine.”
I snorted quietly, but from the way the flush dropped to the back of Em’s neck it seemed he’d heard it all the same.
Cake followed dinner, as promised. And to my surprise it hadn’t tasted half bad. The chocolate frosting wasn’t all it was cut out to be, not much of a shock seeing as I was alright with it in small doses but even my cupcakes lost their tops nine times out of ten, so Em was gifted the majority of it, something he seemed both pleased and a little guilty about, probably down to the excess amount of sugar. Still he worked his way through it, the three of us talking about Rosie’s day and then our own, leaving out the more exciting details as to not make her feel left out, before we all started packing away.
“Told you so.” Em commented when we’d loaded the dishwasher and wiped the sides free of cheese, his gaze was trained on his daughter, who appeared to be talking a mile a minute about the movie her and her friends had watched at their last sleepover whilst bouncing from foot to foot.
Ah, the inevitable sugar rush. I turned my face away to hide my growing smile before I lifted a shoulder in a small shrug. “It’ll die down soon enough, might even make it easier for her to fall asleep.” I murmured, passing him a tea towel that he used to dry his hands.
With a grunt that was more an amused hum, Marshall paused by the counter and waited for Rosie to take a breath before he cut in, “You got homework?”
The girl seemed to think about it, eyes flitting to the ceiling as though she could see the inside of her brain and was set about working her way through a catalogue there, before dropping her gaze back to him and shaking her head. “No, but I did promise Sara I’d call her tonight.” At her father’s expecting look, she tacked on, “If you said it was okay, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Marshall blew out a soft chuckle, lips quirking ever so before he waved the kid off, tossing the tea towel over his shoulder. “Go on, just not too late, yeah?”
“Promise!” She grinned, darting around the kitchen to knock into his side, arms encasing his torso in a brief hug before she jumped to do the same to me. I barely had time to wrap my arms back around her before she was darting away again, this time headed for the stairs after stealing yet another Hershey’s Kiss from the last of the cake we’d yet to hide away.
“Z!” Was the only scold she heard before she was gone from sight, leaving only a trail of laughter behind her.
I snorted too, shaking my head mirthfully whilst I worked my way around the kitchen counter to place a cover over the cake slices and putting them up out of reach.
“Kid’s gonna be the death of me.” Marshall added in a low sigh, still staring off after his daughter before he cracked a soft smile, eyes then flitting over to meet mine. “Best pray the sugar wears off quick.”
I widened my eyes in jest to his warning, but paid it no real mind, knowing he was only being stupid. “Dinner really was good, you know.” I mentioned it again, mainly just to see if I could provoke the same flush from earlier, but also so he knew I meant it. “Where’d you learn to cook like that?”
To my pleasure the tiniest hue could be made out from across the island, but Marshall hid it all too easily with a calculated tilt of his head. He shrugged softly when he answered me, “Know how it is, sort of had to provide for myself for a long while. Mom wasn’t always around when I was a kid, Nate grew up and relied on me most nights, then when I was out in LA tryna make it big, was skimming money off the top of the odd jobs I worked jus’ so I could eat and send some back home.” He levelled me with another look then, palms coming to rest on the countertop, “Sort of enjoyed it, I guess. After a while, just helped me escape.”
I nodded slowly in understanding. Before I could say anything though, the silence the kitchen had gotten swept up in was quickly broken by the sound of my phone.
Jumping at the ring, I blinked out of the dazed staring match I hadn't even realised I’d been a part of with Em before looking around to try and spot the last place I’d left it. Marshall picked it up and handed it over with a sly smirk, having caught on to my short term memory.
“Thanks.” I breathed out in appreciation and then looked down to see who it was that was calling, my grin grew. “It’s Danny.” I let slip to Marshall before hurrying to pick up the call, “Hey stranger!” I greeted the second the line connected, surprised to note that the signal wasn’t as shitty as it usually was.
“Oh, it’s you.” Came my brother’s short reply as though he hadn’t expected exactly that, his face cropping into view from where he perched on a lower bunk, all tanned from the Cyprus sun.
I let my eyes fall into a narrowed glare, “Know you’ve always been short of two brain cells, but who did you really expect to fuckin’ see when callin’ me?”
Danny’s smirk came into full focus before he was grinning away, stare jumping away from the camera for a brief moment before it darted back. “Love you, too.” He chided halfheartedly and with a slight tut, leaning forward to rest his forearms against his knees whilst I moved to settle my phone down onto the kitchen counter, “Just figured I’d give you a bell whilst I had some time, that so hard to believe?”
Even when rolling my eyes, I couldn't dampen my smile. “Yeah, it is.” I chuckled, taking in the background and anything else I could, “You at camp?”
He hummed around a nod, looking off to the side probably to get a feel for what I was seeing. “Told you, din’t I? At a base here for a couple weeks, doin’ some more trainin’ for the deployment followin’ my leave.”
“Well, you mentioned the first half.” I acknowledged, but wasn’t surprised. Danny always tended to stick to the most basic of explanations, such as the time he’d gone away with his mates to a festival for a weekend and said he was on his way back– failed to mention that it was a days fucking trip though.
The twat just waved me off, “Exactly. Anyway, what you up to, where you at?” He came in a little closer then to the screen as though he was attempting to look behind my head. “Not still in New York are ya? Thought you’d want shot of ‘em by now, all them Americans.”
Snorting and casting a chance glance up, I found Marshall by the sink, rinsing the few glasses we’d used earlier, he shot an unimpressed brow my way. “Not in New York, no. But still in The States, with said Americans.” I answered him, shaking my head at the way his lips pursed in a low hum, “So be careful, there are big ears listening in.” I also remarked, thinking back to Drew’s nickname for Em.
“Aye.” The man mentioned then warned, having since finished by the sink so that he could now point a warning finger my way, I rolled my eyes but my smirk was far too playful.
Danny’s voice dragged back my attention to how he had since crowded in closer in an stupid attempt to see through the screen and into the kitchen. “Oi, who’s that? Don’t tell me I was spot on with the mystery man, El! Shit!”
The reminder of Dan’s earlier words the night before I’d met Em had me flushing slightly and immediately my traitorous gaze shifted over towards the man himself, who seemed far too amused as he slid on closer. “Fuck off, Danny.”
The twat only laughed though, all too happy with my reaction it seemed. “Ah, come on! Lemme meet him, just wanna say ‘ello!”
I pressed my lips together to keep the biting words which lined my tongue from springing forth, could always trust your own flesh and blood to turn on you at the drop of a hat. The traitor. “Fuck off.” I repeated, but my words lacked any real heat when Marshall rocked into the side of me to catch a quick peek of Danny’s glinting eyes.
My brother paused as he took in the sudden newcomer and his face was a right picture when he started to stumble over his next sentence, “Ah– right, hang on. Fuckin’ what?”
Unable to help myself, I laughed freely, feeling a little euphoric now that I was no longer on the end of all his ribbing. Em seemed to get a kick out of it too, even now that he was no longer in view he was still close by, smirking at both Danny and I’s reactions.
“Elia!” Danny called hotly, eyes wide as they flickered all over my face as if he hoped to find some sort of answer there, “Tell me that wasn’t who I thought it was.”
Snorting, I gifted him a smug smile, “Can’t do that, sorry.”
“Lia.” Danny practically hissed, before pulling out the face he knew I hated, one which he’d mastered decades ago and had since taught Lottie, seeing as it was the kind that always had me feeling guilty or had the two of them forcing my hand. “Come on, you know you can tell me anythin’.”
I flipped him off, scoffing at the attempt to butter me up but even so, I still felt my walls crumble. “Ugh, you’re such a prick, Danny.” I blew out, eyes straying away from the screen and over to where Marshall still stood, looking back at me, “Do you mind?”
With a smile that I couldn't quite place the emotion behind, Em rolled his eyes at the ask and slid back into view, close enough now that his entire side pressed against mine. I chewed on my lower lip as I watched my brother observe Marshall whilst slowly losing his mind.
“Jesus Christ, man. Shit.” Were the first few words he spouted, a hand coming up to rake across his face whilst Em shook a tad with a light chortle, “I mean, fuck.” Danny continued once his arm had fallen away, attempting to take in the scene again before his stare dragged back to me, “I know you’re in with these lot, El. But shit– Eminem? How the fuck does that even happen?”
I had to laugh at that, knowing full well how he was feeling.
“I mean, come on! Mate! It’s an honour, I swear.” Danny started to fangirl, jaw still agape and eyes almost starstruck.
“Good to meet you, man.” Marshall said in his usual voice, not the one reversed for the public, for interviews and the like, but the one he used with Rosie, with Soup and Drew, with me. I was immensely thankful for it. “Heard a lot about you.”
Danny seemed to remember himself at that, sitting back a bit in his bunk, dog tags rattling with the motion, as he dragged out a long breath. “Only good things I hope.” He chuckled in that charming way of his, the type that used to get him free sweets down at the local shops and have the old ladies outside the cafe swooning.
“Nah, I let him in on that laundrette heist you committed when you were fifteen and told him ‘bout the times you wet the bed.” I interrupted, smirking when Dan’s eyes cut to me.
“You know that weren’t me, it was Danny Evans.” Danny sniped back far too quickly, “How many times do I gotta tell you?”
I chuckled around a small a-huh, “Sure, Dan. How’d you barrel into the pub the same night and piss away a load of ten pences on the fruit machines then?”
He sniffed, feigning ignorance as he glanced away, “No idea what you’re on about.”
Shaking my head, I found Em watching me with a smile of his own.
“So you ain’t gone deny pissin’ the bed then?” Marshall wondered out loud, chin coming to rest on the fist of his hand.
Startled, Danny’s head shot back round to the camera, he raised a finger at Marshall, “It’s slander, is what it is.” He told the man, “Always been jealous of me, she has. Me bein’ the fitter one of course.”
“Ha. Hilarious.” I deadpanned, but allowed a small smile to creep through when Em’s knee knocked into mine. “What you been up to anyway, arsehole?”
“Fuck me and all my shit, question still stands, Li.” Danny was hasty to retreat back to his previous ask, “How’d you two meet?”
Thankfully Em was the one to answer him. “I reached out.” He told him, gaze straying over towards me as he carried on, “Listened to her stuff for a while before I saw that video your sister posted online, figured it was a shot in the dark.”
“One which worked out,” I teased, before I shook my head over towards Danny, who appeared to be watching the pair of us with a dopey grin, “Acting as though I didn’t shit myself the second I found out it was him.”
Marshall snorted beside me, probably remembering the conversation, the way I’d stressed over sudocrem spots and my sound system, whilst he'd been perfectly content.
“Nah, I can imagine.” Danny laughed in ridicule, knowing how much of a fan I’d been growing up, “Failed to fuckin’ mention it though, din’t you?”
The way he’d levelled me with a look, which spoke more words than said, had me shifting somewhat sheepishly. “It was new!” I exclaimed, “Didn’t know how it would all work out. No one but Mila knows where I am, well Lotts too– sort of, I know she’d kill me if she knew knew.”
Smiling at that, Danny’s chuckles dimmed into a low titter before his eyes wandered back on over to Marshall, “Take good care of her for me, yeah? She acts tough but she’s soft as.”
I scoffed lightly, already prepping to roll my eyes when Marshall’s reply caught me a tad off guard. “I’ve realised.” He said gently, giving me a quirked smile when he caught me watching, “But no, she’s in good hands here. Me and my daughter are enjoying havin’ her here.”
My heart warmed at his words, the smile which overwhelmed my face too sappy even for my own liking. I made a vague sniff, pressing further into the man’s side as I hung my head to hide my reaction. Em didn’t falter, in fact he pressed closer too.
“Good to hear it.” Danny’s voice came through before there was a rather loud crash on the other side of the call, one which had Danny’s head shooting up, his eyes widening a fraction before a rowdy figure flew into him, knocking my brother sideways.
I shared a startled look with Em, completely confused, but noted the way Marshall backed away ever so at the new figure who’d come and intervened. A few more blokes fanned in and around the background, though those seemed to be preoccupied, not even paying Danny and his fellow soldier anymind, as though it was all normal.
“Er?” I heard myself say and it was after Danny had managed to shove the man off him with a breathless laugh, attempting to right himself once more, that I caught sight of the slight amusement which shone in Marshall’s eyes.
“Fuckin’ lump, I told you to stop doin’ that.” My brother exclaimed, and where I’d expected him to sound a bit miffed by the sudden attack, I was surprised to hear real affection there.
“But, my darlin’, I missed ya!” Came a bright Irish lilt just as a plethora of fawn coloured curls spilled over the bunk’s bedsheets before following his body back up into a standard sitting position. His grin was overwhelmingly white and almost large enough to hide his green eyes from view.
There was a bit more roughhousing as Danny shoved his army mate away when the kid started making kissy faces at him. “Piss off, you twat. I’m on the phone.”
It was that which had the other lad pausing in his messing, his head rolling over to the left where he found Dan’s phone, as well as me, I supposed. I waved, still a little surprised by the whole ordeal. “Hiya?”
“Fuck me.” The Irish man murmured lowly, eyes wide enough for me to see just how light his green eyes actually were, before he shuffled forward to flash a charming grin my way, “Aye, you’re lovely, have we met before? You look awfully familiar, mhuirnín.”
I had zero idea how to answer that, though I wasn't confused enough not to recognise the sweet name he’d used for me there. “Uh.”
“Leave it out, Lynch.” Danny huffed, swatting the other soldier who was still geared up in his tactical vest. “That’s my sister, you dickhead.”
“Wha?” Was the reply Danny received, before his mate turned back to the camera with another endearing grin, “I’m Tadhg, darlin’.” He introduced, name sounding more like Taig. “But I swear I weren’t lyin’ when I reckoned ye looked familiar. We din’t mess ‘round behind a Spoons on me last leave, did we?”
His brash words and assumption startled a loud laugh out of me, one which had Em’s brow furrowing slightly and Danny’s face falling into a scowl. “No we did not, you little shit.” I said, my head shaking at the cheek of it even as he continued grinning cheekily.
“Lynch, I’m warnin’ you.” Came my brother’s low mutter as he yanked his mate back away from the camera, Tadhg didn’t seem to mind the manhandling much.
“I’m just introducin’ meself, Danny boy!”
“Well don’t, she’s taken.” Danny retorted, confusing me a tad, yet I didn’t deny it, rolling my eyes at my brother's obvious displeasure.
My stare wandered over to Em, who was fiddling with his thumbs, he looked up at me as though sensing my gaze, I smiled. The gesture grew when it was returned.
“El. El– aye, Lia!” Dan’s voice rang through, I snapped my attention back towards him but it was almost as though he hadn't expected his shout to draw in one of the lot behind him–
“Oh shit, is that Elia?”
It was sheer impulse, the way my head turned towards Marshall at the unexpectedness of hearing my name. Em seemed to sense my sudden dismay because he was plastered back to my side in a second, arm coming to wrap around my waist. The touch settled the anxious response that had been drilled into me and I was a tad bit thankful for the fact that he was only portionally in the frame when I looked back to my brother.
A third guy seemed to have joined our Facetime call, his eyes as dark as his braided hair and caught on me from where he’d come to kneel on the bunk behind both Danny and Tadhg. “Shit, it is!” His voice was layered in a thick Mancunian accent, one which reminded me of a friend I had back home, “How’d you know Elia, pal?”
“Elia?” Tadhg wondered, eyes flitting across my face before a sheen of recognition settled in there, “Fuck, I just asked Elia if we shagged behind a Spoons.”
“You did what?” The Manc spluttered slightly, his eyes alarmed.
I bit my tongue to keep from chuckling at that, but Em had no such qualms, apparently having picked up on a bit of slang whilst he’d been in the UK, that or just having been ‘round me far too long.
“Idiots.” Danny sighed, giving Tadhg one last final shove before he let his shoulders drop and glanced over at me, “Sorry, El. I wouldn’t have called if I’dve known this lot would come bargin’ in.”
“You’re alright.” I told Danny genuinely, I’d take any sort of interruption if it meant I got to talk to him for a little while. “It’s nice to meet your mates though, you lads doin’ alright over there?”
“All good, Els.” Danny assured me, but it was short lived because Tadhg was turning to grace the third soldier with a perplexed look.
“How’d you know who she was anyway, Sully?”
Sully, the dark eyed lad with the Manc accent, shrugged as he looked back down at his friend, “Mate, she’s been like my crush for years. Had a poster of her on me wall when I were back home.”
My eyebrows raised at the admission (I mean how old was this kid? Fresh out of school?) and it was then that Marshall chose that exact moment to clear his throat. I shot him a knowing look, one which he returned with a rueful smile.
The three lads turned to us at that exact moment, Tadhg laughing at the sudden sheepishness Sully’s smile took on, whilst Danny just heaved another prolonged sigh.
“Fuck, that’s well awkward.” Sully noted, only furthering said awkwardness.
Marshall looked over to me, that smile still as present as ever, “Didn’t know you had posters.”
“Me neither.” I snorted quietly in return, leaning into him until our moment was cut short.
“What the fuck, Danny!”
Both Marshall and I’s head spun around to see what had happened, only to realise that it had been us. We were what had happened.
“What the fuck, man?” Tadhg said after a long moment had passed. Too long.
I cringed a tad, expecting to have Marshall move away now that he’d been spotted too, having leaned too far into the camera’s view when his head had ducked down to join mine. But he didn’t, move that is. Didn’t shy away at all. In fact, he nodded to the duo in a small hello. “Sup.”
Tadhg and Sully’s eyes were boring into us now, utterly stunned, which would have been funny if it wasn’t for the shock of it all. Danny sat off to one side with his face buried in his hands before he slowly lifted his head, showing off an all too apologetic smile.
I waved him away before he could open his massive gob to say something as stupid as sorry, it wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t like we’d really discussed anything, about his army friends knowing who I was and certainly not about them meeting Marshall, who Danny himself had only just realised was said ‘mystery man’.
“Alright, clear out.” Danny ended up saying instead, shooing his pals off his bunk.
Seemed that the pair weren’t all that easily led though. “Oi, whaddya mean? Let us meet the famous people!” Tadhg hassled, shoving back on the hand Danny was trying to push him away with.
“Yeah, man! I mean, fuckin’ hell, Eminem was the last person I figured I’d be meetin’ today, lads.” Sully added as he rocked further into the little space that sat between Tadhg and Danny, elbows coming up to rest on either man’s shoulder.
“He’ll be the last person you’ll ever meet if you two don’t piss off.” Danny huffed, swatting Sully’s hand off.
“Ooo, tetchy!” Sully laughed, prodding Danny further by deeming it alright to hang over his shoulder instead now, Tadhg’s face being squished against his torso. “Heya, mate! Your last album? Fuckin’ fire, fella!”
Surprisingly, Em seemed to snort at the kid’s words and had since settled into the fact that he was now wholeheartedly a part of this conversation. “Appreciate it, man.”
I watched on as Sully continued to rant about all the emotions he’d felt whilst listening to the LP and was warmed by the way Marshall answered each of his and Tadhg’s questions with a genuine acknowledgement, delving when and where he could. Danny appeared to watch it all too, observing how his mates fawned over Marshall and even me at times, though Tadhg’s, I figured, was more down to the fact that he was a massive flirt, having picked up on him even trying his luck with Marshall, much to the man’s obliviousness.
A while must have passed before Danny finally cut in, giving Marshall a small reprieve, “Alright, as enlightening as this has been,” He mentioned, eyes flitting over to Tadhg, who simply winked at him in return, “I wanna talk to my sister for a bit.”
“Awh, mate! We’re soldiers, this is like our make a wish or summat!” Tadhg almost whined, Sully and Danny snorting at his huffy behaviour as though it was typical, but the pair did eventually make a move to leave, Sully giving us a big thumbs up and a toothy grin whilst Tadhg shot us a joint wink. “Here if you ever need a rebound!”
Danny kicked his arse with the side of his boot as the man dipped out of view, though we heard the hearty laugh that followed in the Irish boy’s wake. He was shaking his head ever so when he glanced back at Em and I, “Sorry ‘bout them. Army life makes meetin’ normal people that more exciting, you know?”
I huffed a quiet chuckle whilst Marshall gifted Danny an easy but tired grin, he rapped the counter as he pushed to stand back to his full height. “I’ma go check on Z,” He mentioned to me before turning back to face Danny again, “Was good meetin’ you, man. Have to do this again sometime, for real.”
Knowing my brother like I did, I could see the slight ripple of surprise that echoed through his reaction to that statement, but on the surface he just dropped his chin and gave Em a sporting grin in turn. “‘Course, mate. Lookin’ forward to it.”
Just before he could slip away, Marshall lingered a second longer, hand squeezing my waist where it had failed to fall away in all the time we’d spent speaking and his smile widening just a fraction for me to see. “I’ll come find you in a bit.” I promised, he dipped his head and I listened as he padded out of the kitchen and over to the stairs.
Danny was the one to break the quiet we settled into. “He’s nice.”
I peered back at him to find him wearing a genuine smile, not a trace of animosity to be found in his voice. My grin was small, an attempt to hide the fondness I knew he’d find there. “Yeah, he is.”
Shaking his head around a knowing smile, Danny took his phone into his hand, “I was so right about there being a mystery man.”
Scoffing at the words, I cut my eyes at him but still looked back over my shoulder to make sure that Em hadn’t heard, even though it was impossible that he had, he was upstairs with Z.
“Shut up, idiot.” I told him, slipping over to the backdoor and into the cool air the garden offered. I’d only been out there the once but it was just as lovely as the house’s front driveway, though a lot larger. “It isn’t like that.”
Danny hummed, unconvinced. “Sure it ain’t. Remember though, I know you.”
“And what’s that meant to mean?”
He laughed giddily in reply, “You’re smitten!”
“Fuck off.” I huffed, looking away.
He wasn’t having any of it though. “You fuckin’ are! Know it too.” He continued to chuckle, all smuglike, “Deny it all you want if that’s what makes you happy though.”
I rolled my eyes, “It really isn’t like that, Dan. He’s– well, he’s him.”
“You’ve always been a right idiot, you know that?” Danny fired back, voice a little heated though his sigh told me that he wasn’t willing to expand on his statement, “What you been up to anyway? Seen his Porsche yet or is that reserved for red carpets?”
“You’re such a prat.”
Danny grinned. “So I’ve been told.”
Blowing out a breath, I resolved to let the argument go. “It’s been good here, nice. It’s so different from London. I mean, I’ve seen so much already. Even had a fuckin’ rap battle with this friend of Em’s.”
Danny looked like he didn’t believe me.
“I swear it, Dan!” I laughed in defence, pressing my knuckles into my mouth to keep from being too loud.
“Come off it, you?” He asked, though there was a slight note of awe there.
“Me.” I retorted with a great big old smile, “It was so surreal, like I don’t know how it even happened.”
Danny started chuckling and he shook his head at me in utter disbelief, “Only you, I swear. Wish I could’ve been there.”
“Me too.”
A wave of quiet passed between us.
“I’m glad you’re havin’ a good time.” Danny finally murmured, looking at me with those eyes that so often reminded me of Lotts, of Mum. “If anyone deserves a bit of happiness, it’s you.”
My eyes flickered between his, a tad bit teary after hearing that, and so I sniffed and looked away in hopes to cover it up. “Hush up.”
Danny’s chuckles resonated even through the phone, bouncing around me and filling my chest with a sense of nostalgia. “Okay, only if you let me know when it happens.”
Brow furrowing, I looked to him with a question, “When what happens?”
All I received was a gentle smile, “You’ll know.”
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