#i had a bit of a respite for a few years and now they're fucking me UPPP all over again

[ivpapaemeritusiv]

Chapter 23: Call Me Little Sunshine

Summary: Things seem perfect in Addeline's life at the moment. Elizabeth and Kaisarion are thriving, and the twins continue to grow stronger with each passing day. Mentally content, she enjoys a year free from pregnancy. However, Papa's reminder signals the approaching end of this respite, urging her to consider expanding the family once more.

Word Count: 1,800 Words

As always, Sister was there to greet her son and Addeline as they arrived home, the twins being carried by their mother. The scene unfolded with a mix of chaos and love as little Elizabeth, just shy of two, darted out of the house towards the yard.

“Elizabeth!” Sister called.

The child ignored her grandmother, heading further down the hill. Sister's urgent call for her son, Copia, to retrieve the adventurous toddler echoed through the air.

“Oh Cardi, get her. She’ll run straight into the woods.”

Copia's heart raced as he turned to face the direction his daughter had disappeared in, calling out desperately, "ELIZA!"

The chaotic scene continued to unfold as young Kaisarion, having learned to walk in his parents' absence, joined the commotion outside. Sister swiftly scooped him up as she watched Copia chase after Elizabeth. Addeline, amazed by Kaisarion's newfound skill, expressed her surprise, “He’s walking?” When did—”

“He learned that while you were gone, dear. And he’s into everything. We might want to consider hiring another nanny.”

Copia returned with a squirming Elizabeth, trying to calm her down with a warning, “Eliza, do you want daddy to spank you?”

“NO!” she yelled, kicking her arms and legs.

The tension rose as Elizabeth cried out for her mama amidst the turmoil and then the twins began to cry. Feeling overwhelmed, Addy proposed retreating inside for some peace, closing the door behind them to escape the flurry of activity.

Sister placed Kaisarion down on the floor and Copia let Elizabeth down as well. The intense family dynamics escalated as Elizabeth, with a strong will and a hint of an Italian accent, defiantly declared, "I can’t do nothing about you fucking rats."

Copia, surprised by her words and accent, humorously remarked, "My goodness, she sounds like me. But Eliza, you shouldn’t say fuck."

The child giggled as Sister remarked it would be the last time she let the girl watch any of his concerts.

Addeline, disapproving of her daughter's language, instructed Elizabeth to apologize at once, “What a thing to say, Elizabeth!” the woman would have popped the girl herself had she not had her hands full.

Reluctantly, Elizabeth hugged Copia and grumbled, "sorry daddy...". But before whisking her brother away, she called out behind her, "They're still coming after you!" The man laughed and shook his head at the strange child.

Sister drew in a deep breath as she approached Addeline, her eyes filled with anticipation, "Let me see these little ones."

Delicately, Addeline passed Opus to Sister, intuitively understanding her desire to see the male heir first. "Oh, they are so tiny," she marveled.

Copia chimed in, reminiscing, "You should have seen them when they were born. They were no larger than the span of my hand."

With a sympathetic nod, Sister addressed Addeline, "My dear Addy, we've arranged for a nurse to look after the twins until they grow a bit older."

“Thank you, Sister,” the woman was grateful, “That is a great burden off my shoulders.”

“Now, Cardi, Kaisarion’s first birthday is fast approaching and naturally it’s a big milestone for our congregation.”

“No human sacrifices,” Addy bellowed.

“No, dear,” Sister promised, “Of course not, but there will be a slight pin prick on the boy’s finger… you know to signify the spilling of blood.”

Addeline wasn’t crazy about this idea either although she had to pick and choose her battles within the ministry.

“There is plenty of time to plan it,” the Cardinal said.

*

The passage of a few months saw the twins thriving and growing into robust children. Papa had been engrossed in crafting a new album for an upcoming tour, keeping him occupied. As Tuesday arrived, Addy realized she hadn't seen much of her husband since Sunday.

Concerned about his wellbeing, she ventured to his office, only to find he wasn’t there. She then checked the chapel, where the lingering scent of incense greeted her, yet Papa was nowhere to be found. Despite his absence, she settled into a pew, seeking solace in the quiet sanctuary. It was nice to be alone in the dimly lit and somewhat smoky room.

With a sudden jolt, she felt two fingers poking her from behind, shattering her peaceful reverie. Startled, she leaped out of her skin, heart racing at the unexpected intrusion. She whipped around to see who had disturbed her.

“Oh,” she beheld a ghoul, “Swiss, Hello.”

“Hi there,” he responded resting his chin on the bench before Addeline.

“You must be here to help Papa write new songs.”

“You caught me,” he revealed that he was indeed there to assist, along with the other ghouls, “How are the twins?”

“Great! They’re sleeping but Kaisarion and Elizabeth are in the mausoleum playing. They knocked over one of the caskets in there earlier, and Papa became quite cross.”

“I’ll bet he did!”

“But once he realized it was Nihil he praised them.”

Swiss laughed, “Funny, he really hates that guy.”

“Resents I think is a better word. Sister and I still have our fingers crossed that there is still hope for their relationship.”

The man nodded and addressed Addy very directly, “So, do I get a kiss?”

The woman put her head down, and although she shook her head in disagreement, she wore a smile.

“No? Alright then,” he scoffed, “Well where is your old man then?”

“Waiting for you I presume, probably somewhere with Sister Annaliese,” her tone had become both playful and spiteful.

“Sister Annaliese, huh?”

Addy recoiled, realizing she had inadvertently revealed her jealousy of the Sister of Sin.

“You don’t need to be jealous of her. You’re prettier than she is.”

The woman blushed, “I lost track of Papa. He’s been super busy lately. I was actually looking for him myself. I was going to check the studio next.”

“Then that’s where I’ll be,” he winked at her, “Keep the bed warm for me?”

Her eyes followed the man’s stride as he walked out of the chapel. She was taken aback by his boldness, flirting with her right there in the ministry. Despite her shock, she couldn't deny the temptation to take him up on his offer. She wondered just how much longer she could resist his persistent advances.

* Addeline had not expected to see Papa that night but much to her surprise she felt the man slip into bed next to her. His warm hand made his way up her nightgown, "Papa?"

"Yes, Tesoro," he replied, growling in her ear, "Were you expecting someone else?"

She whipped around and took his face into her hands, “You haven’t slept with me in ages,” she sulked.

“Oh, Amore,” he tugged at a strand of her loose hair, “It’s been two days.”

“Well, I’ve been lonely.”

“I’m very sorry, my sweet. I’ve been working quite hard on this new album. I even had to borrow one of Nihil’s old songs, which is honestly quite good but never speak of it in front of the old bastard.”

She laughed, “Did Swiss help you?”

“Swiss, Cirrus, Sodo… yes, the whole gang. We made a lot of progress. I really needed another creator’s perspective on things. It’s never good for just one man to be in charge.”

“Of course, Papa.”

“Ah,” he paused, getting up from the bed, “I have something for you.”

“For me? What is it?”

The man returned with a small compact. He handed it to his wife who was very surprised to see what was inside.

“It’s… it’s—”

“Birth control, my darling. The pill! And you will start taking it immediately.”

She shook her head, “I don’t understand… I thought…”

“Never mind your thoughts. This time we will be waiting the entire six months before you fall pregnant again.”

“Does Sister know about this?”

“No,” the man admitted, “And she doesn’t need to. When the time is right you can come off them.”

Addeline was thankful to Copia for the temporary break. Without the pill, she knew it would only be a matter of time before he impregnated her once more and she was happy to see him putting her health ahead of the clergy's selfish desires.

Six months would give her plenty of time to figure out how to tell the man she didn't wish to have any more children.

*

August brought a flurry of activity as the band meticulously prepared for their upcoming tour across Australia and South America. The air buzzed with excitement and anticipation as final arrangements were put in place, instruments tuned, and hearts filled with the thrill of performing in new places. Addeline herself had never been to Australia and she was ecstatic about it.

Cirice and Opus were almost one now and had grown so much that their early arrival seemed like a distant memory. They looked like their siblings, but you could see Sister's features standing out. Their hair was taking its time to grow, keeping that soft baby fuzz that was lighter than Addeline's. They were slender, not like Kaisarion, and had a reserved nature, different from Elizabeth's outgoing personality. They had not yet begun to speak but babbled much to everyone’s delight.

* 

Addy was packing her bags, getting all set for the upcoming tour. She tended to overpack, something Papa often scolded her about. She thought it was always best to have more than you need than to need something and not have it.

In a frantic moment, she snatched her birth control from the top of the dresser, only to be met with dismay as she discovered she was running low for the month and had no refills left.

“Shit,” she whispered under her breath, “Hey, Papa!”

Hearing the woman call him, Papa came running through the doors, “Yes, Amore? Are you almost finished?”

Addy, in a moment of urgency, thrust the nearly empty compact towards Copia's face, exclaiming, "I'm almost out. I need more."

In a soothing tone, Copia delicately brushed her hand aside and whimsically remarked, "Worry not, Tesoro. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve given birth to the twins. You might just find yourself expecting once more without a care in the world."

Addy nodded, "Right…” all that time had gone by, yet she struggled to articulate her wish to halt expanding her family.

Interrupting her thoughts, Sister's voice echoed from the kitchen, prompting Addeline and Papa to rush in, only to find a scene of spilled water and Opus making a hasty retreat away from a large cauldron.

Sister’s arms were crossed, as Elizabeth stood in front of the mess with a sly smile.

"Your daughter attempted to cook up the second heir."

With a playful innocence, the young girl proclaimed, "We don't need this many heirs, Papa, we have me."

Addeline turned to her husband, questioning, "Are you sure you want more children?"

"We shall table it, dear," he responded, his certainty wavering.

[kokorowoutsu]

-- RP: @skullboneandunown

skullboneandunown:

He heads for the portal, and pauses as Ashe begins pelting him with questions. "....He is...alive. He channeled the energies of the Sanctum Sanctorums reactor, the Infinity Engine. His arms are greatly damaged by the sheer amount of power. But, when you get there, I'm certain Doctor Strange will explain it better. But, I must go now. Until next we meet, old friend." With that, he walks through the portal, and back to his proper place and time. Mewtwo watches him leave, and he turns to face Ashe. "It seems we all have some stories to tell. But Morgan is correct, it's time we all leave this place." He teleports the Paradox Beasts with him to the surface, and they all stare at the plains with curiosity on their faces. It has been some time since they last saw all this. Mewtwo stares up at the sky, and begins to focus on the Sanctum. "I will teleport our...friends to the ranch at the same time I'll take us to the Sanctum. Be advised, the head of security is a bit...abrasive to new arrivals." With that, they all disappear in a flash, and find themselves in what seems like the lobby of a space station. He leads them along, past members of the Ultra Recon Squad from Alola, and some people, presumably from other realities...until a mechanical voice booms out to them. "Ultron commands that you halt!" A rather intimidating robot stands in front of them, red LED eyes glowing a bit menacingly. "I am Ultron-Sigma, head of Security aboard the Sanctum Sanctorum. Foreign entities will identify themselves and state their purpose here!" Mewtwo holds his arms out, blocking Ashe and Leon from Ultron. "They are Ashe Grandcrest, and her mate Leon. They are close friends to the Sorcerer Supreme Ultron, check your database. They're here to check on his well being." The machine ponders his response, before stepping to the side and letting them pass. "Identities confirmed. Proceed to the medical lab on level three." After a few more moments of travel, Mewtwo turns to the pair once they reach the medical lad Donovan is in. "Apologies. He's a survivor from a destroyed by an incursion. He's one of a few variants of a machine who chose to protect organic life, instead of destroy it like most variants. He's become protective of the Sanctum as a result. But nevertheless, here we are."

As they're led to the the entrance of the Sanctum, the fact they're stopped by a robot has Ashe and Leon acting on instinct to want to pull out the sword and grimoire, but they stop as Mewtwo protects them, explaining it all. She waits for the robot to leave before hurrying after the legendary. "Even so, he almost got a spell and a sword thrown at him." Ashe's fighting instincts had been honed as had Leon's. That being said, the two had a much more fight or flight aura about them, as well as a bit more mature at that... maybe.

Ashe could feel Donovan's aura and she raced past Mewtwo with Leon hot on her heels. The two stop at the door and once it slides open, both are at his side. The sound of beads jingle from Ashe as she stares in horror at his arms. "You're still the fucking idiot I knew from six years ago..." She sighs shakily and without hesitation pulls out her grimoire from thin air. Leon steps back, holding out his arm to stop Mewtwo. "Best not to disturb her." He warned. With that, the fae energy Ashe once exuded all on her own was contained, balanced, as she began a chant;

"Wounds open and raw, wounds like the roots of a tree... Gather here your magicks old and ancient o' deer of the world tree and grant this shield respite. Mend his cracks with your salve made from the ashes of the great beast of the sky."

From her grimoire came forth magicks that laced over his wounds, filling them in like glue to hold together a teacup, healing from the inside out and taking his pain away as best they could. Having called on Xerneas and Ho-oh, she held her own, offering their energy wells some of her magic in turn as payment.

[oongaboonganerd]

November 11, 2024

Damn I guess it's cool that I haven't needed this space nearly as much. It's been a few months since I made a personal post. Lol time to throw that out the window, huh?

Since last month, my life has been ass. And gradually getting worse. Sort of. It's weird.

Hospitalized, out of work for a week due to an intestinal infection, plus bunches of new debt to worry about.

Plus this month brings up last year, on November 1st, where I nearly unalived myself several times. So I've been dealing with those feelings. Plus missing dad.

And through all this, I STILL miss her like crazy. It feels like every hour of every day for the last year, I think about her in some way or form.

"It seems like you don't feel well more than you do feel well, huh?"

Yeah. Bud, you only ever see me feeling like shit physically. Everything physically wrong is antagonized by my constant parade of intrusive thoughts.

I'm truly tired of living like this. Some days the realization hits harder, a bit... Too much so.

Had to call off things with the person I was dating. Honestly a relief due to personality conflicts. But a bigger relief because now I just have no one. I mean, to have someone to touch and fuck and cuddle and be vulnerable with would be fantastic, but... I'm horrible at shallow dating/hook ups. But that's a good thing too, because both require a type of effort I just don't have in me anymore. The last relationship really wrecked my ability to give anything beyond a minimum effort at this very moment. The person I was dating, it was nice, but I could feel the steam leaving me. And the linger emotions from the last relationship make it feel like I'm cheating. Lol, imagine me still having feelings for her to that degree. Typing that out made me realize how true it is. I was thinking about what if I checked up on her again, and my heart cried in both fear and anguish at what it might find again. Or worse, I find out she died. I'd actually be a wreck, I think.

I hate that a year later, I still feel so fondly for her. I just want to... Not do that. Not anymore. I need a rest. I'm tired of leaning on alcohol and now weed to get any respite. It's every day now. I'm addicted trying to escape the feelings and memories, to just have a few hours of peace. I really hate it. But it has kept me uh ... "Alive" from myself. So... Whatever. I guess I'll get over it eventually. Other more healthy ways are great, until it relies on other people to make me happy, and they're almost never available. I figured out that I don't want love right now, not at all. What I NEED is social interaction, the attention and rapport.

It's yet another shitty type of limbo I'm in. But at least I learned a bit more about myself. And! I've been developing friendships I've left... Hanging.

[spiltscribbles]

Hey! I was bored today, and decided to load up Hamilton and thought about your fics. I read them all, they're so good. Any chance you'll bless the fandom with another Hamliza fic? You do such a good job modernizing their relationship. Please consider writing something new, I'll take a paragraph, hell a sentence! lol. Anyway, love your blog and it's always great to see a post from you!

~Notes: holy fuck baby!!! This is so fucking beautiful and kind and so sweet and I can’t even begin to deal😭😭 You are such a sugarplum fairy and I love u to bits!! And the idea that you like my version of them is so crazy!! Ur an angel! And I’m screaming! I just love Eliza so much😭😭 I hope that you like this even slightly!!!!💜💜😌

.-

A Reblog Is Worth A Galaxy!

.-

Occasionally— when Alexander is a bit tipsy and a bit lonely and feeling lightly poetic— he thinks of the cobble stoned pieces that patch together the mosaic of his life. He remembers his mother’s faint laughter, and he pictures Eliza’s iridescent grin on the day of their  wedding. He alternates reminiscing on the different nights at hospital after the birth of each of his children, how he’d count their tiny fingers and smaller toes while Eliza was slumped besides him— flushed and radiant and so, so miraculous. Though the latter half of that image wasn’t there eleven months ago, when she had given birth to baby Will three weeks after the editorial had been published— finally tipping the precarious state of his world to ruin with a brimstone sort of finality. Three weeks after the affair was made public and the light in her eyes that she had always glimmered with whenever gazing at Alexander, was scuffed away permanently, under the heel of his carelessness and his cruelty and his childish cravings to feel needed by someone— by absolutely anyone. 

And as he rocks in the ornate, elm carved chair that his in-laws had bought for Philip’s nursery over sixteen years ago now— with his youngest son in arms— Alexander thinks that it’s right— that it only makes sense that in the handful of memories that are the cornerstones of his existence, Eliza is in the vast majority of them. Eliza with her quiet but strong resilience. Eliza with her breathtaking, but unassuming beauty. Eliza in how she’s always been the beacon of light— a personified  essence of hope— in the center of the tempest that is his life.  A quiet haven that he’s always depended on like nothing else.

Eliza has always been, and will always be the most vital part of it all, the lifeline that pumps breath to his lungs and blood to his heart and makes Alexander feel like he’s finally standing on solid ground. But he doesn’t get to say that out loud anymore, shouldn’t even think it in the privacy of his own mind. Not after the shattered look in her eyes had been embedded permanently, not after the separation had been officialize, and especially not now, while he’s trying to recall that old, French lullaby that Eliza had always crooned to their children before bed while she’s graciously pretending he’s not here.

It had been a stipulation in the agreement that they scrounged up over half  a year ago now. Alexander has been relegated to the loft they keep in Murray Hill while Eliza and the children remain residing in the estate right outside the city limits— The Grange. But because she’s always been touched by an otherworldly kindness that Alexander has never witnessed in another soul, Eliza told him that mornings before school and dinners before bed are open for him to visit while she finishes the work she has for the non prophet she had helped build. “You don’t get to lose your kids just because it didn’t work out with us Alex— They’re your family and I won’t be the one to take them away from you, not ever.”

When she had said as much, quiet and precise and void of the warm inflections he would always lose himself inside of whenever she spoke— Alexander wanted to absolutely ball. He wanted to fall to his knees right then and beg her not to say that— not to toy with the idea that it was really and truly over between them. He wanted to tell her that he loves her, and he loves her and he’ll always love her no matter what.

But for perhaps the first time in his life, Alex had held his tongue and only thanked her for always being the best of the lot. He was afraid if he spoke his true thoughts out loud he’d make that torn, desperately pained look melt back into her features like those first few weeks after the Twitter trends and media frenzy and poisonous gossip spreading through the circle of blue bloods that Eliza had been the heiress of since birth, and where Alexander had fought tooth and nail to belong. But besides that, he thinks he was mostly terrified that she wouldn’t betray any emotion at all— That she’d stay still and frozen and detached— forever out of his reach all over again.

Alexander’s heart twists up in an ugly, painful sort of way at the memory of that tragic brunch between them, and he physically shakes his head— as if the pictures of that afternoon  could just fall out his ears and disappear into the powder blue curtains like dust.

Gingerly, Alexander kisses Will’s downy hair, and sets him into the crib with a final inhale to get him through the night before coming back tomorrow morning. And while he pads through the hall, he quietly peers into the bedroom of each of his kids. Listens to the hushed snoring from Jamie and Johnny’s room, before he looked into how Angie has swathed herself with pink blankets in her own, finally glancing into Philip and AJ’s at the end of the hall, bracing himself for how his eldest inevitably  tosses him a cursory glance from over his shoulder while he taps away on his new laptop. Philip’s stopped the sneers and the clipped replies after Eliza had scolded him for as much right after the pamphlet’s release, but the ice like overture between them hadn’t lessened, and no matter how much it breaks his heart that his pride and joy doesn’t ever look at him like Alexander is his hero— like he had when he was younger— he’s strangely proud. He’s proud that Philip is steadfast in his loyalty to his mother and has a moral code that Eliza had nurtured in each of them.

“You almost done with that civics paper?” He tries for broke, talking in a hush like he was afraid to spook him.

Philip’s jerky nod is all Alexander gets before he snaps his gaze back to the screen, and he takes it like a sacrament, gently shutting the door once again and shuffling downstairs to the main level of the house.

It feels like his heart lodges somewhere deep in his throat when he enters the living room only to be taunted with the sight of Eliza curled into the side of the sofa, nightgown loose on her shoulders, and dark hair piled into a messy topknot while she nibbles on the end of a pen that she’s most likely using to mark up the novel in her hands. It’s the same volume of Arthurian legends that she’s been paging through for the past few days, and he knows it’s something to do with a child at one of the group homes she visits on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, the one who is enthralled by the folklore of it all.

And it’s like an ache— a gnawing and crippling sort of yearning that he feels as he watches the image of her that he’s seen a hundred times before, wanting to thumb at the ink smattering her cheek and lips and chin. And if this was a year ago he would’ve done just that— Hell, he would’ve kissed them away with tender lips as he gathered her small form into his arms and he would’ve waxed poetic about her and her mind and her body all night long.

Or maybe not.

Maybe he would’ve simply teased her before dropping a kiss to her forehead and retreating to his study to finish the latest bill that the president wants on the house floor before the next congressional recess. Maybe Alexander never really deserved her and it took this— them split apart and tattered— for him to realize all the things he should’ve done. All the exaltations he should’ve whispered against her skin and all the caresses he should’ve massaged against her bones and all the ways he should’ve worshipped her all along. And when Eliza looks up— a strand of hair falling prettily over a large eye and the moonlight dancing atop her with a graceful sort of panache— he feels a sick sort of despair that maybe he’ll never get that chance again. Maybe she’ll leave it to Andre now.

The thought of John Andre makes Alexander’s insides pulse with a sort of anger he doesn’t think he’ has ever known, makes his fucking arteries clog with distain. But he hasn’t said anything about him to Eliza, even though he knows that ever since her ex-boyfriend has moved back into town, he’s been pursuing her non-stop, was regaled about the flowers and the letters and the diamond tennis bracelet by a peculiarly snide, but disappointed Angelica, and he knows that his sister-in-law, between her own children and her own job as the secretary of sate, has been silently rooting for Alexander to get his shit together, to prove himself worthy enough for a second chance with the sister she loves with all her heart. And he thinks that it’s almost funny that one of the most brilliant minds he’s ever known, isn’t perceptive enough to understand that Alexander had never been worthy enough for a chance with Eliza in the first place. So it’s fucking impossible now, with everything that has past and all the ghosts between them.

“Oh,” Eliza says once she finds him just standing their, gazing down at her like some sort of pathetic drifter trying to find respite from a prophet. “Will fell asleep then?”

“Erm, yeah. Yeah he was good.” Alexander replies, tries not to sputter. “Only one who’s up is Pip.”

“Not for long,” Eliza mutters mischievously, tapping a finger against her nose with an endearing sort of diffidence. “I switched the coffee out for decaf before dinner. I reckon he’s got another forty-five minutes in him.”

Alexander can’t help the choked out laughter that spills from his lips, and can’t help relishing in the helium like levity streaming through his extremities— the heady feeling that only Eliza’s ever been able to evoke. “You’re wicked.”

“I’m a concerned mother, and our son is a bit of a spaz if you hadn’t noticed?” She retorts mildly, single brow cocked as she returns to her novel. And no— God no, Alexander can’t refrain from delving back into the easy, life affirming bliss it has always felt when they talked with one another— whether it’s platitudes or past traumas or anything in-between. So like a man about to plunge into the churning ocean waves— ready for death or the best thrill of his life— Alexander eases besides her, three feet apart but close enough to smell Eliza’s  favorite jasmine shampoo wafting in the space between them.

“You enjoying the legends then?”

Eliza flickers her bright eyes back to him, uneasy and guarded. And it hurts like nothing else when he remembers how he was once able to read her open face like a favorite book that had been highlighted and underlined to hell. “Uh-huh, it’s an interesting set of stories. I think I understand why Dante enjoys them so much.”

“OH?”

“Mhmm. There’s this one myth, about one of Arthur’s knights, Sir Gawain, who was promised to this old crone and when he kisses her she becomes a fair maiden.”

Alexander isn’t sure what is going on here, knows that this is the most Eliza’s spoken to him outside the children’s schedules for months, but he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he nods along eagerly, silently pleading for her to continue on with the summary.

“Yes, well. After she transforms, she gives him a ultimatum of sorts. Tells him that either she can stay beautiful in the daylight while they’re apart, or only at night while they’re together.” She meets his gaze head on— steadiness boring into his uncertainty. And even though he still hasn’t a clue what’s happening, he feels it in his bones that this is so very important, so he doesn’t falter, breathes in deep and doesn’t let his glance stray to her lips or her collarbone or where her hands are clutching tightly to the volume now.

“And what did he choose?”

Eliza purses her lips, like she’s not sure to tell him anymore, but something in his expression must’ve convinced her, because she shrugs a slight shoulder while standing and slapping the book shut. “He doesn’t. Tells her it’s her choice and her’s alone.”

And oh.

It’s like a punch in the gut when Alexander finally comprehends.

“Good,” he says, voice gone a bit haggard. “He should just wait until she makes up her mind.”

Remarkably, that seems to have been the right thing to have said, because the ends of Eliza’s plump lips actually quirk up into an etherial grin that’s not so threadbare like all the ones he’s seen for far too long.

“Good night, Alexander.”

“Good night, Eliza,” he replies,  feeling like sunlight is finally beginning to filter through the frost when her small hand dusts across his cheek for only a sparing moment. And while he watches her putter upstairs, Alexander knows with all his heart that he would wait for an eon just for Eliza to decide whether he’s worth letting back into her world.

.-

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