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missameliep · 5 months ago

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Title: Once Upon a Summer - Part 2

Book: Desire & Decorum AU Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth Foredale (OC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~5.2k

Summary: Once upon a summertime, eleven-year-old Elizabeth befriended a boy at a beach. Returning to England in a rush, she didn't even say goodbye to her friend Hamid, and had little hope to ever see him again. What would happen if fate brought them together four years later? This is how their story goes...

A/N: No warnings. Just fluff. Turkish words are translated in the notes in the end.

August, 2001.

From the airplane, Elizabeth’s eyes contemplated the lands bellow but fixed at the sight of the turquoise blue ocean. Her heart soared. Even in the company of her stepmother Henrietta, it seemed impossible to be unhappy in a dreamlike place like this.

Her father had once more kept the promise, and the 11-year-old girl was beyond excited.

Trying to reconcile work and vacation, it was Vincent's idea the family spent time at a resort at the Turkish Riviera while he attended business meetings at Istanbul, and later would join them at the weekend. Hopefully everything will go as planned. In his absence, there are plenty of activities to keep Elizabeth entertained and her stepmother off her back.

Despite planning to spend most of her time at the beach – which would be a lot, considering the expected daily 12 hours of sunlight –, she made sure to research about the history, touristic attractions, and culinary to have the best experience ever with her father and the boys. Her eagerness to share those details were met with similar enthusiasm only by her father. They bought a Travel guide and a Turkish phrase book for tourists and she read them during the flight, memorising the most helpful ones, like “thank you” and “please”, even though her stepmother insisted it was pointless since everybody at the resort must speak at least rudimentary English.

“It’d be rude if they didn’t,” she remarked at last, and huffed an exasperated breath when Elizabeth didn’t put the book away.

Fanning herself on the short walk to the car, but refusing to take off her white blazer, Henrietta exclaimed to Elizabeth’s and Harry’s amusement, “Of all places, Vincent sent us straight to this furnace... How can anyone survive in such a horrible place!”

On the drive from the airport to the resort, tired of the woman’s complains about the hot weather, Harry’s annoyance with the long hours travelled and Edmund’s sulking for some undisclosed reason she suspects might be a girl, Elizabeth put on the headphone and turned on the music on the mp3 player. Nely Furtado’s I’m like a bird starts playing and she smiles.

Rolling down the window, Elizabeth inhaled the sea salty breeze and closed her eyes for a moment.

The sea has always been Elizabeth’s happy place.

Her earliest childhood memories are from walking at Ipanema’s finest sand and building sandcastles by the water with her mother. Once or twice her father was in the picture, and her mother would be smiling at him. Growing up near the ocean turned it into a reference and going to the beach her favourite pastime. Whenever her feet touched the warm sand and her skin submerged into the cold Atlantic waters, life was good. At the beach it was easier to forget the burden of being a spare daughter of an Earl who lived across the world from her or feeling out of place, not British enough but not entirely Brazilian either.

When she was 9 years old, her mother announced they would move to England to be closer to her father, and she cried for two days until her eyelids were puffy and there were no more tears to shed. One could imagine her sadness was because she didn’t love her father nor wanted to be near him and her half-brother, but that was not the case; what truly saddened her was the fact the nearest beach was hours away of the county by car and the family didn’t fancy the sea like she did.

“My little mermaid”, her father called her then, understanding her concerns, and promised at least for a few weeks every summer they would travel to be close to the sea. And so far, he kept this promise.

Even if he could not keep the other promises made, or say no to his wife.

This year, Henrietta threatened to forbid the boys to come along if Elizabeth’s mother accompanied her, which everybody knew would mean cancelling the trip.

“Elizabeth is old enough to take care of herself, and you’re her father! Why is that woman even coming? Unless it’s for your enjoyment!” the woman shouted in her father's study at Edgewater, and he eventually yielded; Elizabeth wished he didn’t.

Being away from her mother in a foreign country, even for a few weeks, would be hard.

After the first days of glorious sun, the weekend came, but her father didn’t.

A week after their arrival and the second time he rescheduled his flight, Elizabeth was too tired of avoiding fights with Henrietta and the malicious remarks about her appearance and manners. If her presence was so unwelcome, why would the countess deny her any opportunity to enjoy herself getting to know the region outside the limits of the resort and its private beach?

“It’s your father’s duty, not mine,” the words were uttered with the intention to hurt her one morning during breakfast. “If he ever comes, he can take you wherever you want...”

Without a responsible adult, she couldn’t join most of the external activities; however, this minor detail wouldn’t stop her, like Briar remarked when they were chatting online that evening. Out of spite, she decided to venture on her own and visit some of the places she was eager to see, risking a punishment later.

Early in the morning, knowing Henrietta would spend the day at the hotel’s spa, she left a note at the desk saying she would be at the beach.

Backpack stuffed with her books, two water bottles, an apple and a few dates, Turkish bread and cheese collected from the breakfast table, the Mp3 player, she sneaked out of the resort to visit the city of Fethiye and the Lycian rock tombs. It would be an adventure.

It was a long walk to get to the city, but it was lovely seeing the beach and tourists outside the resort. At a small shop, she bought herself a pistachio ice-cream, then walked up hill to reach one of the famous tombs.

Reaching the top, the visitors were rewarded with an amazing view of the city. When she picked up the camera, for a moment, she wished Harry or Edmund had tagged along, but both hated waking up early and hot weather. Not to mention the risk of Harry ratting on her, even if unintentionally. She took a few pictures to show them later and drank the remaining water in one of the bottles, rushing to get away from the monument as soon as a few adults started questioning if she was alone.

The sun was high in the sky on the way down, and her stomach started growling. Reaching the main promenade, while looking for a place to sit down and eat, she was startled by a screeching sound right behind her.

Whirling around, she caught a glimpse of a young boy with a bright blue t-shirt riding a bicycle on the pavement right before he swerved to the right, almost running straight into her. Failing to redirect the bike, he collapsed a few metres ahead, right on the street. The traffic could not be called heavy, but wasn’t insignificant either, and it wouldn’t take long for a vehicle to get to him.

Her hand covered her mouth, muffling a panicked scream; and she ran to help him back on the pavement.

When she reached him, the boy, who was about her age, touched his knee, hissed and mumbled words in Turkish she couldn’t understand. There were no visible bruises in his face or arms, and it eased her a little. Her first instinct was to just grab him by the shoulders and pull him back, but she probably shouldn’t, even if she had the strenght to do it.

Heart hammering in her chest, the only words in Turkish she remembered from the pocketbook inside her backpack were “merhaba”[1] and “Türkçe bilmiyorum”[2], neither helpful in this situation.

Instead, she waved her hands. The first car swerved to avoid them, but the second coming in their direction managed to stop and halt the traffic in that lane.

“Get up before a car hit you,” she cried, and judging by his wide-eyed expression, he didn’t comprehend a word.

Regardless of the lack of understanding in his part, she kneeled and asked for permission to help him, slowly speaking in English everything she was doing, like picking up his bike to move it to the pavement, to give him time to get up on his own. When he remained frozen on the asphalt, with those big dark eyes staring at her like a deer before being hit by a car, she offered a hand. “Come on.”

By the time he got up by himself, a few passersby had rushed to check on him.

First, he thanked her in English. After he did, a smile curled his lips and dimpled his warm brown cheeks. It was bizarre to say the least that he’d smile after falling from the bike.

“You were so fast,” she cried, unable to control the volume of her voice or the pace of her heart. “Are you hurt? I was so scared a car would hit you!”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” he said, and motioned to the persons around them, indicating he was alright and they soon walked away, and the traffic resumed in the previously obstructed lane.

Turning around to face her, he spoke with accented but perfectly understandable English, “I got distracted for a second by the new ice-cream shop there. I love ice-cream.” He pointed at a store at the other side of the street. “Sorry for almost running you over. Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Just a little… startled.”

“I can see that. If I had money now, I would buy you an ice-cream. It always makes me feel better. I think it’s because babam1 always bought me one when I got hurt,” he sighed and leaned against the bike. “Do you like ice-cream? Because if you do, you’ll love bici bici[3]. Have you tried?” He spoke quickly, a melodic monologue, and she had no idea what bici bici was, and it somehow seemed a safer answer to simply shook her head.

Smiling at her, he offered a hand. “My name is Hamid.”

“Lizzy,” she told him the nickname her friends use, finding it more appropriate than the name she came to associate with etiquette and the Queen, and her smile vanished when she noticed his scrapped palms. “You’re hurt.”

He touched his hand with a thumb and clicked his tongue. “It’s just a scratch.”

“It’s bleeding.” Kneeling, she put her backpack down and took the remaining water bottle. “Sorry, I only have water,” she said and asked for one of his hands. She poured the water, letting it remove the dirty of the street.

While she focused on the task, Hamid kept looking at her, with an unabashed smile.

“Where are you from?” he asked, while she poured the water on his other hand.

“England.”

“No offense, but you don’t sound British”

She looked up and refrained from laughing.

“And how do they sound like?”

“Like this stuffy teacher I had in school,” he replied, and started speaking random words with a heavy accent like he were a Bond villain, and she supposed he was mimicking said teacher. “You’re lucky you don’t sound like that!”

“Not all Brits speak the same way, there are different dialects, you know…”

“I didn’t know that!” he admitted while looking at his palms. “Which dialect do you speak?”

She laughed. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“I can’t help it, I’m very curious, and I love making new friends.”

The word friend was misused in her opinion, considering the fact he is a local boy and she is a tourist due to stay another 12 days, and they would never see each other again. But his expression was so welcoming, and the idea of having a friend – even if on a temporary arrangement – to go to the beach with and walk around the city sounded somehow appealing due to her current loneliness. And a much easier deal to a shy girl like herself since he was offering.

Hanging her backpack on one shoulder, she shoved her hands inside the pockets of her shorts and contemplated the idea of having a picnic.

“So, Hamid, before you attempted to trample me, I was going to have a snack,” she said softly, “if you’re not doing anything, I can share with you. It’s not much… but…”

“Sure!” Holding the handlebars of his blue bike without touching his palms, he started walking and called over his shoulder. “Come on, Lizzy, I know the perfect place.”

The boy was lively and cheerful, just a few inches taller than her. His skin was a tanned warm brown, much lighter than her mother’s, and his hair straight and black, with longer locks in the front that almost covered his dark expressive eyebrows. His eyes were also of a very dark shade of brown, almost black as his pupils. Like the pearls of her grandmother’s necklace, his teeth were perfectly lined and shiny, and whenever he smiled, two dimples formed on the sides of his face; Elizabeth thought that was a lovely thing.

Following him down a secondary street, she noticed several scratches in the bicycle’s painting, a scab in his elbow and a few healed scars on his knees, not to mention the thorn on the side of his black and white shorts. Perhaps, falling off his bike was not an unusual occurrence, and something kids in Türkiye and England have in common.

Hamid did most of the talking and asked several questions without barely giving her time to answer; most of them amused her, while she diverted every single one concerning her family or lodging details, obeying the security protocols taught ever since she came to England.

“How old are you, Liz?”

“11.”

“I’m 11 too! I’ll be twelve on December. When is your birthday?”

“July.”

“We’re here.” He vaguely gesticulated, and walked through lines of tables and chairs towards the entrance of colourful restaurants and a fish market.

Hamid was greeted by some of the waiters and men on their way.

“Do you like fish?” he asked her, and she nodded.

Then he sprinted towards an older man with grey hair and thick black eyebrows, who effusively greeted him. The boy kissed the man’s hand and touched it to his forehead, in what she assumed was a sign of respect to the elderly. Smiling, they talked for a while, and the man nodded towards her, huffled his hair and they gesticulated, calling another man inside the restaurant. When both men disappeared inside, Hamid leaned his bike against the wall of the restaurant and ran back to where she was watching the scene with curiosity.

Walking ahead, he guided her to one of the tables.

“We can have what you brought, and something that I’ll bring.”

“I thought you didn’t have any money.”

“I don’t.”

She smiled and nodded to the direction the man had been standing a moment before. “Is that your father?”

“No, babam is at Istanbul. Working. Annem is there with him. That one over there is Cemal Bey, he’s a good friend of Dedem and his wife is the best cook in the country... Please don’t tell Hala Fatma I said that,” he said in a conspiratorial tone.

“And people will just give you food?”

“Sometimes, if I ask them nicely. And I told my English friend wanted to try the best Turkish food in the country… few people resist being complimented like that.”

“Clever.”

The tip of his tongue peeked between his teeth when he smiled at her. “But I admit Cemal Bey being a good friend of Dedem and knowing me since I was a baby helped.”

She chuckled and took the snacks from her backpack, under Hamid’s attentive supervision.

“I was expecting something like crisps and Doritos...”

“Disappointed?”

“A little,” he replied with a frown. “If you have any candy, I beg you share with me. Halam won’t let me eat anything that isn’t healthy!”

Elizabeth chuckled and offered him a date. “This is the sweetest thing I’ve got with me...”

Sighing, he accepted it with a sorrowful look, and she smiled.

“Dedem and Fatma, who are they?”

“Dedem is grandfather,” he said gnawing on a date. “Hala Fatma is babam’s younger sister, my aunt. I’m staying with her and my cousins this month.”

They shared the bread and cheese; and despite her initial protest, Hamid poured some olive oil on a piece of bread and made her try it. When she did, she hummed in delight and asked some more cheese. “That’s too good! I could eat my weight in this cheese...”

While she took another bite of the bread, Hamid’s expression turned serious.

“I need to ask: are you a runaway girl?”

“Excuse me?” she asked, almost chocking on the bread. “Why would you think that?”

“I just watched X-Men, and you being here alone in a city you’ve never been before with a backpack gives me major Rogue vibes…”

“I’m just sightseeing,” she shrugged his concern, “not escaping my mutant powers or anything really.”

“You never mentioned your family…” He lowered his voice, so only she could hear him, “If you’re in trouble, there are good people here who can help.”

“I’m fine. Really. Dad is at Istanbul working. Like yours. And mum couldn’t come to this trip…” she paused and refrained from sharing with a strange boy the dramas of her family. “So, I’m staying at a hotel with my stepmother and my brothers.”

“Hmmm… I see… evil stepmother!”

“I never said that!”

“You didn’t deny it either,” he pointed out with a mischievous grin. "What about the brothers? Are they as jealous as Cinderella’s sisters?”

“Harry can be jealous at times,” she laughed covering her mouth with a hand, and looked away. “They’re okay. We get along well, but they don’t fancy going to the beach as much as I do… or being outside when it’s hot. Edmund got sunburned on our second day here.”

“What a bummer...”

“He’s better now, but refuses to leave his room... And with the pretence of keeping him company, Harry stays with Edmund... So, they play videogames day and night!”

“You don’t like videogames?”

“I like videogames; what I don’t get it is why would anyone prefer any game over this?” She waved both hands in a circle around them. “It’s such a perfect day for an adventure! I love the salty sea breeze! Just this morning I walked around the city, and not only had the best pistachio ice-cream ever but was taught about some place called Antep and the story of this man’s family and pistachio. Okay, I didn’t understand most of what he was saying but it was amazing anyway. And when I said Teşekkür ederim[3] he explained that was too formal and taught me Sağ olun[4]. Did I say it correctly?”

“Yes, perfectly. I can teach you words too.”

“Then I went uphill, saw these ruins and –”

“What about meeting me?” with a mocking pout, he asked.

“Usually near accidents are not my favourite parts of any trip.”

“Near is better than actual accidents.”

“You’re right,” she laughed.

“And what’s still missing on your perfect day list?”

She hummed in consideration and her eyes flicked in the direction of the marina, even though they couldn’t see the boats from where they were seated.

“I wanted to go in one of those boats and spend the day at the sea, visiting the islands, but Henrietta gets seasick – or so she says it. And Edmund keeps saying we should wait for dad, or something terrible might happen because we’re kids, the world is a terrible place, and we’ll probably be stranded at sea…or drown. Basically, something horrible will happen.”

“Wow! That’s –” Hamid paused, searching for a word and settled with “disturbing...”

Cemal bey called Hamid, who sprinted to get a plate with breaded fish, chips, garlic sauce and the biggest olives she’s ever seen. They ate in silence, and Hamid kept gazing at her for some reason. An ear-to-ear grin on his face.

“Do I have something on my face?” He shook his head, but she kept wiping her mouth and chin with a napkin, just in case.

Hamid picked the chips with his fingers and tucked into his mouth, and she did the same.

If her grandmother saw her eating this much in public and using her hands, there would be a lot of chiding. For a moment, she hesitated, her hand hovered over the fork, but then she considered how far from home she is and the advantages of being unknown here. Grinning, she used her hands again. The chips tasted even better while disregarding etiquette.

After the meal, Hamid offered to take her back to the hotel, which she decline since she having so much fun with him; since he didn’t need to go home before sunset, they decided to walk around some more.

Sitting on his bike, he patted the tube and offered a lift and to carry her backpack, even though it was much lighter without the water and food. Putting her backpack on his back, she took the offered seat.

Chatting all the while, they rode for several minutes until arriving at the marina, where he locked his bike to a lamp pole at the entrance.

“Race you there,” Hamid shouted from over his shoulder, already sprinting at full speed.

“That’s unfair,” she cried back, running after him, “I don’t even know where we’re going!”

She caught up to him, or maybe he let her get closer and they ran side by side until the middle of the marina, to a point where sailboats and yachts were on either side of them. It wasn’t bustling as earlier hours of the days, and few people were working on boats, cleaning them or just walking around.

Hamid indicated an empty spot, and they sat down, letting their feet dangle from the edge and above the water. She looked around with a wide smile, following with her eyes the seagulls flying close to one of the boats, trying to steal someone's lunch.

“I’d love to spend time at the sea, to travel for many days and see many ports... How exciting it must be! Imagine all one could learn. The languages. And the food. I could get something from each place, a treasure, to remind me later from all I’ve seen...”

“Like a pirate?”

“No, not like a pirate!”

“Why not? They have cool clothes and songs.”

“I couldn’t be a criminal!” she laughed.

“We could be pirates together!”

He jumped to his feet with a roar, twirled and climbed into a boat. “Ahoy! Pull the anchor!” he said with his best pirate impression, one eye closed and a hand cutting the air in rapid movements. “Let’s trouble the water. Avast ye! And sail against the tides!”

Elizabeth laughed and he extended his hand, inviting her to climb it too.

“Hamid, we can’t do that...” She looked around for anybody who could be watching them. “We could get in trouble...”

“Don’t worry. It’s Dedem’s boat.”

He offered a hand and helped her get into the boat. They walked to the bow pretending to be on a pirate ship. The deck gentle swaying beneath their feet as they staged a mock sword fight.

“Dedem always took me and my cousins with him to the sea,” Hamid said later, when they sat down by the railings to watch the seagulls fighting over food, “and he taught us to sail and fish. Babam and Amca Ozan would join us too, if they were not working...”

They watched the boats returning to the marina, spoke about movies and Hamid shared many stories of his family and his five sisters.

“Five sisters?” she asked, “For real?”

“Is it really the strangest thing?”

“That was rude. Sorry.”

“You apologise a lot,” he remarked, “Why’s that?”

She pondered at the question for a moment, not knowing what to say, and just shrugged.

Hamid didn’t ask anything else about it, and the conversation shifted to other topics. Whenever he asked about the hotel her family was staying, she diverted and talked about something else. The last thing she needed was Henrietta coming to spoil their fun.

Leaning against the railing, Hamid pointed at all his favourite places, even if it was impossible to see some of them from the boat.

“Let’s go,” he said and pulled her by the hand.

A moment later they were back on the bike. Speeding up, the breeze blew their hair, and she laughed; when they reached the beach, Hamid plopped down the sand, breathless and with beads of sweat between his brows, tip of his nose and over his lips.

“Hey! I bet I can beat you to that rock,” she dared.

He used one hand to shield his eyes from the sun and look at her, “Can’t you see? I’m dead.”

“Afraid of losing?”

“You pedal next time then,” he muttered.

“Deal.”

Disrobing to her bathing suit, she sprinted to the water, skipping waves; Hamid removed only his t-shirt to follow her and cursed when the salty seawater caused his bruises to sting, and she couldn’t stifle a laugh.

She got to the rock first and helped him climb it to sit beside her.

When the sun started its descent to the sea, the sky turned pink like her favourite roses at Edgewater’s garden, and the clouds looming over the horizon were painted in gold. It was beautiful sight, but also a reminder she lost track of time. She must return to the hotel before it gets too dark.

“I should go.”

Elizabeth hopped to the shore and put on the shorts and t-shirt, and picked up the backpack.

“Liz,” he called behind her, shortening her nickname, and wiped the water from his eyes. “Can we meet tomorrow? I can bring Faiza’s bike, and we ride together.”

She nodded and they agreed to meet at 9 o’clock sharp at that same place. Putting on the sneakers, she ran towards the pavement, but spared a last look over her shoulder. Hamid waved at her, a wide smile curling his lips while his gaze followed her.

In the end, meeting Hamid turned out to be her favourite part of the day.

September, 2005.

Loud as flocks of parakeets at sunset, the buzz of students going out of the sports court dimmed down the closer she got to the library.

Away from the noise and prying eyes, Elizabeth fished the mobile from the backpack, and almost dropped it to the ground, only then realizing her hands were shaking. Her heart was not doing any better, beating as fast as if she’d been running. She sat on the ground, under an old tree and leaned her back against the rough trunk. The crown of the tree shadowed that part of the grass and the breeze was cool, soothing the redness of her face.

When she managed to make the call, Briar barely said “hi” and Elizabeth started ranting.

“Can you believe this? He thinks I’m cute but doesn’t remember me! At all!” she repeated, and Briar squealed.

“Briar!” Elizabeth cried.

“Wait! He thinks you’re cute? How do you know? Who told you?”

“He did when he came to talk to me after the game. He called me gorgeous or something... I wasn’t paying attention –”

Briar let an even higher-pitched squeal, and Elizabeth moved the mobile away from her ear.

“He came to you and said that? I’m dying! That’s even better!”

“How’s that better?”

“I don’t know. Did you tell him who you are?”

“I – No! I freaked out!” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “I assumed he knew. Like why else would he be looking at me during the game or come to talk to me?”

“Because he thinks you’re gorgeous, silly!” she said in a sing-song voice.

“I’m mortified. I was super casual with him... How could he not know? I look the same!”

“You certainly do not. Your hair looks amazing now without any of those stripy pink highlights --”

“It was red.”

“It was so not!” Briar snorted with laughter, “I'm grateful now my mother forbade me to dye my hair when I asked!”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the remark. Her hair is definitely styled better now, and the rainbow coloured highlights from those days remained only in the pictures.

“It's been 4 years, innit? You lost quite a few pounds, you can fill a bikini top now in case you haven’t noticed. And you two met in a total different country! Don’t forget that, Lizzy.”

Elizabeth’s eagerness to rebuke died down a little. It’s has been a long time. Her chin tilted up to look at a bird chirping at the bough of the tree and she sighed.

“I just thought that friendship was special to both of us. I had zero trouble reconizing him.”

“In his defense, you’ve been secretly crushing on him for 4 years –”

“I was not crushing!”

“Are we lying to each other now? I know you keep pictures of him on your drawer –”

“Those are souvenirs from the trip! And I’m on some of those pictures too. And so are Ed and Harry.”

“I'm just saying it isn’t that weird he didn't reconize you...”

“I suppose...” she replied, her tone too despondent.

“You can still be sad or disappointed...”

“But I should be happy, right? He's here.”

“I would, if I were you.” Elizabeth could picture Briar's genuine smile even without seeing her face. “Even more so if the boy I was crushing thought I was gorgeous!”

“Stop it,” Elizabeth pleaded, covering a warm cheek with a hand.

Briar laughed loudly, then whispered on the phone, “You can finally see if this idealised version of a boy you met years ago stands the test of time…”

“What do you mean?”

“You never consider dating anyone because boys can't compete with him, now you have him so you can either date him or move on.”

Elizabeth sighed, and it carried all the exhaustion just the persons closest to her knew about.

“I don't think so... You know I have more important matters to focus. I can't get distracted by boys. Not now.”

“But don't you think you deserve a break from all that crap? Some happiness? I believe you do. And the universe seems to agree with me. Or it wouldn't just throw him back to you, woult it?”

Elizabeth listened to her friend while observing other students, two girls rushed with hands intertwined, smiling at each other.

“You’re living at the same country and are old enough to actually fall in love and date. Just enjoy it. Tell him. Don’t tell him. It's your choice. But you should get to know him now, maybe you'll be running away from him after a ten minutes conversation because he's grown-up to become a wanker.”

“You’re right,” Elizabeth said, her words coated by a chuckle. “And if he's still the same, we can be friends again.”

“Oh, my god! It just crossed my mind now how perfect this whole story will be to tell in your wedding! –”

“Wedding?” Elizabeth echoed, but Briar didn’t even acknowledge her words, still rambling about the pictures in her drawer.

“– the pictures! We need copies. Tons of copies. Just in case. Childhood friends. Lovely!” Briar was speaking quickly and incessantly.

“I’m fifteen!” Elizabeth protested, “We talked once. And I kind of run away...”

“Next time, you stay, Lizzy.”

Notes:

[1] merhaba – means “hello”

[2] Türkçe bilmiyorum – translates as “I don’t speak Turkish.”

[3] bici bici – it’s a dessert, typical of southern Turkey and the Mediterranean region, especially consumed in the summer. Bici bici is prepared with crushed ice, starch, and syrup.

[4] Teşekkür ederim – translates as “thank you”

[5] Sağ olun – it’s an informal way of saying “thank you”

#desire and decorum #desire & decorum #prince hamid #prince hamid x mc #desire & decorum AU #choices fanfic #hamid x elizabeth

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missameliep · 5 years ago

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Guess it summarizes my series 🙈

they have been pining for like a really unreasonable length of time

source

#they have been pining for like a really unreasonable length of time #not choices #choices fanfic #second chances series #hamid x elizabeth #sorry about that

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lorirwritesfanfic · 4 years ago

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Lori's Favorite Ships

Yesterday was Fanfic Writer day, so I’m posting this very special version of my reviews because I’m going to talk about my favorite ships!

No, I’m not making a list of my favorite LIs to prove why they’re great. I already know I have superior taste in LIs, there’s no need to brag about that 😁 I’m talking about amazing pairings fanfic authors wrote, building stories so good for their OTPs that it’s impossible not to love them as well.

So this post is my big fat "thank your for writing this" to some of the most talented writers I've met here:

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma (Bridgerton series / The Viscount Who Loved Me)

author: @itslaniquelove

ship masterlist: look for#kate x anthony in the search of her blog

story I recommend:The Binds Of Marriage

When I read itslanique Anthony x Kate fics, I haven't read The Viscount Who Loved Me and was pleasantly surprised with their dynamic as a couple and how steamy the scenes are. For those who only know Anthony as the "rake" and hypocrite older brother in Bridgerton season one/The Duke and I, it's hard to picture him so devoted to one single woman. But as you see his relationship with Kate/Sharma evolve, you understand the fascination they have for each other and why they're a perfect fit. Plus, if you're into more spicy stuff, itslaniquelove got that part covered 😉

Ernest Sinclaire x Nicolette (Desire & Decorum)

author: @itslaniquelove

ship masterlist: look for #desire and decorum in the search of her blog

story I recommend: Caught In The Moment

I don't think it's secret to anyone that I'm a fan of itslaniquelove's stories. But her talent as a writer exceeded my expectations when she wrote Sinclaire and Nicolette, making me grow out of my indifference to Sinclaire. It's not just itslaniquelove’s fascinating skills as a writer, her flawless characterization of Ernest Sinclaire or the fact that she created a great version of Desire and Decorum MC. It's everything. If you're looking for great Sinclaire x MC fics, this pairing has to be in your reading list.

Hamid Osmanoğlu x Elizabeth Foredale (Desire & Decorum)

author: @missameliep

ship masterlist: Second Chances series

story I recommend: If I Fell

Any of my comments about this pairing could summed up to an audio of me squealing like a teenager. Or I could say just read any Hamid x MC or Hamid x OC missameliep writes. But I’ll try to elaborate because this is one of my all time favorites. Hamid x MC's storyline is fantastic on its own, even if Desire & Decorum writers never bothered to write Hamid's route well. But missameliep transcends the flawed canon bringing Hamid and Elizabeth to the twentieth first century in a beautifully written story that all Hamid stans deserve. Elizabeth is clever, beautiful, so shy and polite to a fault and she slowly falls in love with Hamid (now a commoner, but still a diplomat), who is as handsome and charming as in canon, but with the character depth that was missing in the books. They're completely different people, with different backgrounds and lifestyles, yet they understand each other. Their attraction to each other is almost tangible at times, but as fan of slow burn romance, missameliep delivers all the tension anyone who enjoys this trope craves.

Leo Rys x Isabella Sanchez (Rules of Engagement/The Royal Romance)

author: @xxrainbow-princessxx

ship masterlist: look for #leo x isabella in the search of her blog

story I recommend: The Pain Of Abandonment

This is one of the first pairings I fell in love with when I joined Choices fandom. Even though the rebel former crown prince of Cordonia is a fan favorite, his story in canon is filled with plot holes. But on xxrainbow-princessxx's stories, Leo is portrayed in all his glory: funny, messy, playful, ill-tempered and incredibly passionate. Isabella, on the other hand, is the perfect woman: smart, diplomatic and feisty, the crown princess of the kingdom of Laurentia possesses many skills that make her stand out regardless of being drop dead gorgeous. They seem like opposites, almost like fire and ice at times, but the correct metaphor for them is fire and gasoline. It's hard to figure out who's the fire and who's the gasoline, because their passion knows no bounds, but they understand each other in ways no one else does. When they're not in good terms, they know exactly how to piss each other off. But one thing you can can be certain is that when they're together, it's pure fire. And it's an delight to read it.

Levi Schuler and Laura Day (Mother of the Year)

author: @storyofmychoices

ship masterlist: Levi and Laura

story I recommend: Let It Be

Choices fandom may adore Thomas Mendez x MC (ngl I do too), but if there's a MOTY pairing that I stan is Levi and Laura. Laura is the strong woman who can handle everything on her own and face any obstacles to see daughter happy. But even strong characters need a breather. That's where Levi Schuler walks in. With his great sense of humor, his cool rock musician vibes and kindness, Levi brings all the joy, comfort and love Laura deserves from a loving partner. She knows Levi will always have her back, the feeling is mutual for him and storyofmychoices shows multiple times how these two are just relationship goals. And as if this story couldn't get better, Levi and Lily's step father and daughter relationship is simply the most heartwarming and wholesome thing ever.

Maxwell Beaumont x Maurice Chalon (The Royal Romance)

author is no longer part of Tumblr

story I recommend: Red Wings - Part 2

This pairing is so underated and it's so unfair, but I'm here to do them justice. Maurice (M!OC) is a quiet person, with a brilliant mind and tendencies to be judgemental who falls madly in love with Maxwell. The story written in Maurice's perspective is enticing and rich with scenes that make us root for Maurice to come out of his shell and just say those three little words to Maxwell, who seems oblivious to Maurice's feelings. Except he's so not. When they finally become a couple, it's pure bliss (with a nice dose of smut because why not? 😏)

Tyril Starfury x Maiele Nightbloom (Blades of Light and Shadow)

author: @lilyoffandoms

ship masterlist: look for #tyril x maiele in the search of their blog

story I recommend: Shared Bed

I know lots of people are crazy about Tyril, I'm so not one of them sorrynotsorry, yet I absolutely adore Tyril x Maiele. Maiele happens to be the one who knows what makes the Lord of the House of Starfury tick and how to soften that tough elf boy, which precisely why their stories are so much fun to read. From the very first drabble, I just couldn't help but hope Tyril says yes to Maiele. Obviously, Tyril doesn't surrender so easily (otherwise it wouldn't be him), but lilyoffandoms gives all the banter, the sweet moments and hot scenes that makes me cheer for these two.

Honorable mentions (other pairings from the same authors):

Bryce Lahela and Olivia Hadley - storyofmychoices

Colt Kaneko x Logan - lilyoffandoms

Request #18: “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

Colt Kaneko x Zoe Jones - missameliep

Bad Liar

Drake Walker x Isabella Sanchéz - xxrainbow-princessxx

A Twist Of Faith

Liam Rys and Freya Ilvermore - itslaniquelove

She Just Doesn't Know

#fanficton reviews #choices fanfic #bridgerton fanfic #lori's favorite fics #fave otps #lorircreates

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missameliep · 4 years ago

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and create as many AUs and possibilities for them to be together as possible.

Any minor inconvenience in my life: happens

Me and my sensitive ass:

#not choices #fanfic writers #fanfiction #have i created another au for hamid x elizabeth?#you bet i did

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choicesficwriterscreations · 3 years ago

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Title: A Dash of Christmas Magic

Written by: @missameliep

Book: Desire and Decorum

Pairing: Hamid x F!OC

Rating: Teen

Throwback fic # 5

#desire and decorum #hamid x f!oc #cfwc throwback fic #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfic

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queerchoicesblog · 6 years ago

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A Father’s Daughter (D&D, Annabelle x MC)

Requested by @esteladannishreyakamilah, this is my VDay D&D entry for the February Challenge by @endlessly-searching-for-you. ❤️

Notice that I wrote this fanfic before the “pistols at dawn” plotwtist so consider this taking place after the trip to Grovershire. It deviates slighlty from the canon in the end (I couldn’t remember the original line of Lady Grandmother and I made up another xD).

Frustrated by the latest events at Edgewater, Elizabeth wrote an impossible letter to her father, drawing similarities between their sentimental fate: why can’t their family understand the true meaning of love?

Prompt: Forbidden Love

Word Count: 1128

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @psychopathdreamer21 @abunchofbadchoices @bbaba-yagaa @silverhawkenzie @melodyofgraves

Tags: @kennaxval @kinda-iconic @countessannabelle (hope you like it sweetheart)

_________________________

Dear Father, I hope that this letter you will never receive finds you at peace and finally reunited to your long lost true love, my beloved mother. I miss you both. I know that I hardly knew you but I miss you dearly, cursing all the years we spent separated and unaware of each other. If only you were still here... Since you were gone, things got worse over here in your well-loved Edgewater. Winds of war started blowing and the ominous shadow of a tyrant lingers over us. I'm sure you remember Duke Richards: apparently, Lady Grandmother, the Dowager Countess, fell for his charms and is going above and beyond to make this wedding happen. She still gushes over the Queen's blessing and how rich and noble Mr Richards is. Noble? How can a pompous narcissistic beast like him be even called a man not to mention noble? He may have a gentleman facade but he's one of the meanest people I've ever met. Underneath his accomplished appearance, he hides a big bad wolf and I don't want to be his prey. I will fight until my last breath if need be! He's arrogant and toxic, he belittles everyone he considers inferior to him and the meaning of the word "empathy" is unknown to him. He abuses of his power and even assaulted me! How could I even consider marrying someone like him? Please tell me, Father! I cannot undestand why your Mother doesn't pay the same respect to other men, genuine noble souls, unlike the monster she worships She doesn't listen to my complaints: she "knows best what's good for Edgewater". I'm afraid she will realize the mistake she made too late...

Oh Father, if only I think about our last conversation on your death-bed, what you told me! All you wanted was my happiness: that I marry for love not out of mere convenience. I had a plan to make it happens: good Mr Chambers made me a proposal but Lady Grandmother ruined everything, forcing my engagement with Duke Richards. She would rather see me sacrifice my joy for her greater good -not mine-, her selfish ambition than see me happy with someone I choose on my own. I know it's harsh and I wish I didn't have to speak in such a petty manner of my your mother, but I'm afraid I have no choice. Was she like that with you too when you were younger? I bet she didn't approve mom too. How could you two be of the same kin? She and your Father can't hold a candle to the gentleness and sweetness shining inside of you. They're so stubborn and selfish: I found myself wondering if lady Grandmother actually loves me as her granddaughter. Or anyone else, for the matter. It saddens me that you may have shared similar thoughts when you were among the livings.

I sneaked away to Grovershire, my old village. I couldn’t be in Edgewater anymore, I couldn’t even bare the sight of her and her beloved Duke Richards. Once I reached the places of my childhood, I breathed again. My life was so easier when I lived there...and I will always belong there no matter what the future holds. Mrs O’Malley, our wondrous tailor, the kids, the extraordinary baker who provides the best apple tarts of whole England, Mrs Daly...they were all there. Oh the wave of memories that hit me, Father! And the surprise of seeing that among them there were other familiar and friendly figures, like Mr Harper, Mr Sinclaire and Prince Hamid! They all came there when they heard the news of my “escape”. Miss Parsons immediatly left Hazelvale too. I had to beg my heart to be still when Briar gestured me to look over my shoulder and she was there, gracefully waving at me on the opposite side of the square.

I can’t find words strong enough to describe how I feel about her, Father. The heart beating in my chest doesn’t belong to me anymore, it’s hers, my mind belongs to her as well since I keep daydreaming of her when she’s not around. Her melodious laugh, the sound of her voice, the gleam in her beautiful dark eyes when we notice me looking at her across the room, the soft smile immediatly forming on her lips...these things never leave me, even when we are apart. And, to be honest, they make my life worth living at the moment. She’s my harbour, my love and -Father pretend not to read this if it makes you blush too- my passion. Did you and mom feel the same way back then?

I felt on top of the world when in Grovershire I walked down the street with Annabelle on my arm. Nobody stared maliciously at us nor turned their head away disgusted. They just nodded and smiled as they walked by: my heart almost exploded with joy. It certainly went boom when I danced with my fair lady of Hazelvale in the square with my friends and we were all simply merry, careless. I felt free, Father. And oh, how could I describe the joy that kindled inside me when I was crowned Queen of the Harvest Feast and I got to choose Annabelle, sweet, fierce Annabelle as my King!

That joy faded soon though, too soon. Lady Grandmother found me and my freedom was over once again. She made a beeline towards me through the crowd: disdain and fury were written all over her face while she walked imperiously as if she owned the place. And then her eyes fell on me...and Annabelle frozen in place, still down on one knee beside me, courtly holding my hand. Lady Grandmother’s stare grew cold, probably colder than I’ve ever seen, and she hissed, looking at me: “You truly are your father’s daughter, Elizabeth. You’re coming with me. Now.”. And now she forced me back to Edgewater, exactly where she wanted me to be. Oh dear Father, when you were here, Edgewater was such a lovely place to me: it was where we could be together, it meant you. Now, after your death, it's nothing but a trap, sadly. Its now familiar shape in the horizon turned my happiness into sorrow and made my heart tightened. The mere thought of living under the same roof, breathing the same air, the possibility of accidentally bumping into that hideous man in your house Father - your house, not his! - makes me sick. That snake repels me and I will never understand why for the world he's more suitable for me than Miss Parsons, the rare gem I will be eternally loyal and devoted to. Paraphrasing forlorn Hamlet, "something is rotten in the land of her Majesty", something is so very rotten...

#VDay prompts #february challenge #desire and decorum #annabelle parsons #annabelle x mc #playchoices #choices fanfic

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missameliep · 5 months ago

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Title: Once Upon a Summer - Part 1

Book: Desire & Decorum AU

Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth Foredale (OC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: ~2k

A/N: No warnings. Just fluff and teenage shenanigans. To make the story make sense, it's settled in the early 2000's, before social media, the era flip phones were it, the epitome of modernity and style! There will be alterning POV from Hamid to Elizabeth, and so on. Enjoy part 1 of this very silly and self-indulgent fic!

September, 2005.

Every new year was the same, for an entire week the school was vibrant and full of life. The whole days dedicated to recitals, art expositions and workshops, plays and drama reading, and so much more to welcome old and new students to the building that would basically be their second home from September to July.

This afternoon, the school’s sport court was brimming with new students and seniors of all ages, sporting their impeccable uniforms and polished black shoes. The last rays of summer shining on hair and skins and in the happy memories of vacations that are the main topics of conversations these past days. In the imminence of the beginning of the exhibition match, the basketball court was all noisy chatter and excitement, with lines of players in jerseys, echoes of the bouncing balls on the polished wooden floor, squeaking sneakers and swishing of balls down the rims.

Like in the savannah, it was easy to spot the new arrivals, with their awed and terrified looks, like lion cubs, and those who were comfortable in their natural environment. More than any other student, the players were naturals. The kings of this court, one could say, and the ones who attracted most of the attention, especially the ones starting their senior year.

Sporting his jersey with unmatching pride and the widest grin, Year 11-student Hamid, one of the most enthusiastic amongst his teammates for being chosen to play for the main team. Surrounded by a group of female students willing to hear about his latest travels and maybe even catch the attention of one of the team stars, he couldn’t be more thrilled. Or so he thought...

This was the best time of the year: no classes nor tests, no mandatory readings nor assignments, and a lot of time to do what he loves the most: socialize! Hamid loved this week with his whole heart and wished it could last longer. However, if everything must come to an end, the best way is to end on a high note, isn’t it? And in Hamid’s humble opinion, the last day is always the best. Not only it was entirely dedicated to sports, which was one of his passions and gave him the chance to demonstrate his aptitude in a variety of activities, but afterwards there will be a ball with music, dance, and girls eager for the attention of the athletes.

Amusing some of his teammates and a group of girls, Hamid was in the middle of telling a story, when someone knocked over a heavy object near the entrance. Hamid’s eyes flicked to where the noise came from and to the influx of another group of students coming inside to fill the stands, amongst them a very beautiful girl he’s never seen in school and instantly caught his eye.

Turquoise backpack hanging on one shoulder, she moved slowly, long curly hair bouncing around her face. A chocolate brown hair peppered with gold that seemed like the sun itself had kissed it, or maybe had just been following her for the dramatic purpose of stealing teenage boy’s breaths away. Whatever it was, her beauty was so enthralling he couldn’t look away, appreciating the long hair that reached the middle of her back, shapely lips shining with lip gloss and bright eyes. If this was one of the rom-coms his sisters love, the sound of chatter and basketballs dribbling would’ve been muted, and a bubbly pop song would play in the background while the girl glided in slow motion; when the camera focused on him to do a closeup, he’d be looking dazzled, mouth slightly parted while trying to catch his breath – which he was, having completely lost the train of thought mid-word. Nevertheless, no camera could ever capture the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

“So, what happened then?” Theresa Sutton’s question ringed after what seemed like a dramatic pause in the narrative but turned into a play’s intermission. “Did his father notice you two were gone?”

Stunned, Hamid blinked a few times and telling the rest of the story seemed less relevant now that he had a new goal. Offering a wide grin, he clapped his hands, “Well, this will have to wait. Now I have someplace else to go. And a record to beat!”

“That’s cruel, Hamid,” Donna Bowman protested with a pout, but it didn’t deter him.

Bending, he picked up the ball at his feet, never tearing his gaze from the beautiful girl, and sprinted towards Yusuf Konevi, his dearest and oldest friend at England, who was doing warm-ups with some of their teammates. She was glancing everywhere from the benches at the side of the court to the stands, possibly searching for someone, and not once looked his way. Thank goodness, he was confident enough to not let this hurt his pride, and persistent enough to change that game.

Throwing an arm over Yusuf’s shoulder, he threw himself at him in a playful way.

“Hey!”

“Glad to see our star is finally joining us!”

“We’re all stars here,” Hamid said, flashing a grin, “we shine brighter together.”

The other laughed. “Smooth. I bet they’ll make you team captain soon.”

Looking over his shoulder Hamid located his target, standing alone by the stands, and asked in a conspiratorial tone, “Who’s that girl? I haven’t seen her before...”

“Which one?” the other asked before discreetly peeking at the direction he tilted his head.

“The one who looks like an angel recently fallen from heaven…”

Yusuf gasped with laughter. How very Hamid of him to be throwing around corny lines about girls right before a game, instead of warming up. Glancing at his friend before taking another look, he surveyed the faces and there was only one amongst them Hamid possibly didn’t know and fit his type, which he assumes is beautiful long-haired girl in any height, weight, body type, or ethnicity.

“Do you mean Elizabeth Foredale? The one with the turquoise backpack? She was transferred.”

Hamid smiled and repeated her name slowly, savouring every letter like honey in his tongue.

“Foredale…” he repeated her last name once more and hummed. “Why does this name sound familiar?”

“She’s the daughter of the Earl of Edgewater. You certainly heard about them.”

He definitely did. The House of Edgewater is one of the oldest and most traditional amongst the British nobility, close in relationship with the Royal Family, and everything in this county is somehow related to them. And he is almost certain the Earl was one of the stuffy British men with whom his father had meetings to negotiate some sort of treaty when he was ambassador at England.

“Is she single?”

Yusuf clapped his shoulder and grinned, “I have a feeling you’ll soon find out.”

Thinking about the best way to catch her attention, Hamid bounced the ball once, then twice, and smiled. Dribbling, he darted to the middle of the court, standing right at Elizabeth’s line of sight. Making flourished moves with the ball before dribbling towards the three-point line, he stepped back, flexed his knees, and shot. Without touching the backboard or the rim, the ball swished smoothly, and his face split into an ear-to-ear grin at the cheers. When he looked at the stands, the girl had her eyes fixed on her mobile oblivious to his demonstration. But this wasn’t nearly enough to discourage him.

Someone clapped him on the back, congratulating him, and from his place by the benches, the coach waved him and the others to assemble.

When the game begins, I’ll get her attention for sure, he hypes himself on his way to join his fellow teammates.

And this is his best match so far, scoring and assisting in almost all the key plays. The coach is pleased to see him this motivated, and he is pleased that Elizabeth’s eyes followed him. Not the plays. Not the ball. Him.

During halftime, he takes off his jersey, exhibiting his lean muscles and warm tanned brown skin from days sunbathing at beaches at the Türk Rivierası, and swigs a bottle of water. One of his classmates throws him a towel, and he thanks him.

At the stands beside the team’s bench, giggles and whispers erupt, but when his gaze searches for Elizabeth, like it did so many times this afternoon, the girl is sitting by herself reading a book. A large one. He can’t read the name in the cover, but how much more interesting than the game and players can it be? He was very close to take that snub personally.

At the other team’s bench, Yusuf throws him an amused look and teases him. Hamid shrugs and doesn’t let it affect his good spirits.

When the match is over, her eyes are not on the book, but on him. Pleased by the attention, he rakes his sweaty hair back and flashes his best smile in her direction. Like others at the stands, she’s clapping. In an instant, he’s surrounded by teammates and classmates congratulating the team, cheering and chanting they’ll beat their rival this year for sure.

While he’s approached by Donna Bowman and her friends, he gets a glimpse of Elizabeth walking down the stairs and going straight to the exit. By the doors, she halts, sparing a lingering last glance at the court over her shoulder, one he desperately wishes to be directed to him.

The best he could do was play it cool, wait until later, and maybe meet her at the dance. Or even cooler, waiting until classes start next week. But that look has him sprinting out of the basketball court with a silly excuse to not immediately hit the showers.

His sneakers squeak while he runs down the hallways, deflecting students and congratulations.

Down a long corridor, he gets a glimpse of her outside. When he catches up, she’s sitting at a bench, book opened on her lap.

Breathless, he halts a few feet away from her, fixes his sweaty dishevelled hair with a hand, takes a deep breath and a glance at the book from over her shoulder.

The panting catches her attention, and she glances at him over her shoulder, meeting his gaze. There’s no hint of surprise in her eyes as if she expected him to come.

“Interesting reading?”

She bites her lower lip, and nods.

“Very much.”

Placing a cat-shaped bookmark between the pages, she smiles and closes the book.

Hamid takes both as good signs, and peeks at the cover. “Lord of the Rings. Is it any good?”

“You already asked me that,” she giggled.

“Cut me some slack, with all the running, my brain is lacking oxygen…” he laughs, and she tries to stifle a chuckle but her laughter escapes in huffs through her nose. Hamid’s heartbeats quicken at the sight of her smile and the visible blush on her cheeks, the bronzed skin has a lovely pinkish hue, and, in this light, he notices her green eyes have gold flecks.

Pointing at the empty space beside her, she suggests, “Why don’t you sit down before the team loses his star player, Hamid?”

His smile turned into an ear-to-ear grin when he flopped beside her.

“So, you were paying attention! I knew the book couldn’t be more interesting than the match!”

“Hardly. It was a mere exhibition. And I prefer football, anyway. But you played well…”

“Well?” He faked being wounded by her words. “I was on fire today!”

“Oh! That would explain all the shouting from your fans... are you well?”

Snorting with laughter, he gnaws at his lower lip, amused by the quip.

“Unwounded. Except for my ego,” he replied, and grinned. “I’m on the football team too, and we’ll have a match in two weeks. You should come and watch me play.”

Chuckling, she shook her head slowly, and looked away at students crossing the gardens towards nearby buildings. She was smiling to herself, and her fingers fidgeted with the bookmark. That shyness pleases him in an unexpected way.

Trying to meet her gaze, he extended his hand for a shake, “Where are my manners? Welcome to Moorfield School. I’m Hamid Osmanoğlu. Year 11. Basketball and football team. Last year’s class president. Delighted to meet you –” His hand lingered in the space between them, waiting for her to take it and say her name.

Instead of the expected handshake, her eyes darted to his face, and she gaped. There was too much confusion in her expression that he joked, “Haven’t you done this before? Because that’s when you say your name... Saying something about yourself is optional, but always appreciated.”

“You don’t remember me,” she stated a little bit offended, and it surprised him.

“Have we met before? Because I certainly wouldn’t forget a gorgeous face like yours...”

Shoving the book inside the backpack, she got up. “I’ll let you figure that out then.”

“Will I see you again?”

“We go to the same school...” she replied without turning around.

While she walked away, Hamid observed. He was even more intrigued by Elizabeth now.

#desire & decorum #desire & decorum AU #prince hamid #prince hamid x mc #hamid x elizabeth #choices fanfic

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