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marchsfreakshow · 1 year ago

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Opium And Monique Gibeau {James Patrick March x Reader}

It's 1938. You've been having to do sex work in the dark, until one client takes you to The Hotel Cortez.

Suggestive, so -18 proceed with caution.

Warnings: implied smut, general death warnings of blood, knives and such.

Inspired by "Noel's Lament" from Ride The Cyclone. Also 2.6k words this time, v proud of myself<3

Your perspective

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚��₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷

I was holding a small, brown bag in one hand, walking down a street with a cigarette in another hand. The streets were dusty and damp, and a homeless person in every other building. Street lamps dimly lit the Los Angeles roads, cars passing by to and fro. They were full colours of blue, black and white. Greys filled the car's shadows.

The tall buildings all looked the same. Meters tall, symmetrical windows, the darkness looming over them. Coughing, muttering, tiny breaths and sneezing went past me as I ventured into Los Angeles. They distracted me as I thought about the request the stranger gave to me. Throwing my cigarette on the floor, I opened my bag and took hold of the letter.

It read;

"Come meet in The Hotel Cortez. 10 pm, on October 30th. You will have to find the room.

Explore the Hotel all night if you must. I know it will cost extra, but I will be willing to pay more for the mystery of finding me.

-??"

Every read-over made me so intrigued that I did not notice where I was walking. I bumped into a man and almost fell. Luckily, he grabbed my arms and pulled me up, our eyes meeting immediately. There was no light there like a murder had just been committed. It was almost attractive, but the client needed me. "Excuse me! I am so sorry." He just nodded.

"Where are you going, sweetheart?" He smiled and held out my letter. I raised an eyebrow and stuffed the letter in my bag, in turn grabbing my lipstick and applying it as I walked in front of him. "You seem in a rush." He mentioned.

"The Hotel Cortez." Immediately, he took my hand and rushed me for about 5 minutes. Everything in my peripheral vision became blurry as I ran. God, I hate heels. Soon enough, he stopped and I held onto my head, as the rush stopped, and a headache formed everywhere.

The doors became gold as my vision cleared, but the mysterious man had gone. People were back to rushing to and fro, not even muttering 'excuse mes' to each other. It disgusted me. Sure I was a whore, but at least I had manners. However, I took a deep breath and opened one of the doors, a lavish hotel appeared before me.

It was breathtaking. Still, I wondered who wanted to meet me here. Everything almost overwhelmed me. Straightening my posture, I walked up to the reception and rang the bell. I rang, rang and waited for what felt like hours. No one appeared. 'How disappointing' I thought, staring up at the two stairs.

Slowly, I made my way up the staircase, seeing a bar before me. Lots of whiskey it seems. It took up a lot of the second level and added nothing but mystery to the hotel I was called to. October 30th. A day before All Hallows Eve. Not even a decoration, which was quite boring. The glum aura of the hotel only got deeper as I roamed the long, windy halls.

The walls all looked the same and never changed. Elevators on one of the walls. The doors also looked the same. Numbers kept going up. My heels were feeling like hell, so I stopped by a door, and took my heels off, immediately feeling relief. Thankfully, that wasn't the door I was looking for. At least I hoped. So I carried on walking around the halls. I felt crazy, wandering and roaming the empty halls, small sounds coming out of every single dark red door. Before an open door came into my eyes. I stopped next to it and peeked my head through.

What stood there was a lush, velvet room. Dark green filled the floor and carpets. Small tables held alcohol, snacks, cigarettes and more. The bed was bigger than I had ever imagined. It almost looked royal, and I had a suspicion, this was the room.

But what took my attention was a man. He stood around 6 feet. The suit was navy and looked freshly pressed. The shoes were a sharp black, but shiny. As I looked him up, I saw his face. Handsome, with a small moustache, and slicked-back hair. But his eyes made me realise something. This was James Patrick March. But, he was dead. He died 8 years ago. It shocked me, and by accident, I dropped my heels, which made him snap his head around. "Ah! You're here." He just smiled. His smile was attractive, but I stood there in shock.

Very quickly, I brought myself back, and put my heels on. "Are you the writer of this letter?" I asked, holding it up out of my bag. He walked towards me, and grabbed it, immediately reading it.

"Yes, indeed I did."

"But sir, with respect, you are James Patrick March. You should be dead. Did you fake the suicide?" I asked, crossing my arms. He seemed to admire my shape. He looked at me like he was about to make me a new person.

"You are correct in the fact that I should be dead my dear Y/N. However, I am indeed dead." He smiled at me, offering his hand to me. I took his hand in mine, and he led me in, closing the door behind us. We made eye contact, and it never broke. Questions I wanted to ask, ran past my thoughts. But our silence was kept as James sat me down. The bed was just as soft as I hoped, and he went to the table, picking up a drink. "Absinthe. Have some."

"Absinthe?"

"Well yes." He held it out to me, so I took it, not wanting to make him upset. Keeping, almost, harsh eye contact with him, would kill him to soften his gaze as I stopped the gross liquid down my throat. It burned like the Opium someone had me take.

It seemed I started to sell my love for that drug. It kept me sane as I dressed in black which only hit my lower thigh, the fishnets ripped in places I didn't know. And I always wear dark heels always. Kitten heels, but tonight I decided to make them taller. Makeup was quiet on my face, but it was there. James took it all in, and I stood up, my bag now on the bed. "James. If you are a ghost, why can I touch you?" I asked, confidently placing a hand on his shoulder, attempting to make this whole experience quicker.

"Ghosts can interact with the living in this hotel, and this hotel only." He responded, taking the drink from my hand and simply placing a finger under my chin.

"Does it feel different? To do it with a living human?"

"I have not yet experienced that. That's why you are here yes?" Without thinking, I nodded. Something drew me to him. But I couldn't tell what it was. He was a serial killer, a madman. So I took his arms, brought him to the bed, and then slowly undid the buttons on his blazer. "Take your time dear, don't rush it." He smiled, starting to kiss me, the taste of absinthe finding my throat once again.

The morning came, and I awoke slowly, barely any light came through the window. The room was still glum, and velvety. A man came in holding some food and smiled at me. "Y/N. You are awake." Clearly, I wasn't looking great, since I saw mascara smeared on my fingers. But I smiled either way. "I had someone make you breakfast before you left."

"Well, that isn't what you asked unless you're willing to add more to my pay." A smirked curled my lips. I took the breakfast anyway and snarfed down every bite. James was, a rough customer. Nothing like I hadn't seen before.

"I can and will pay you every single penny I own if you're happy with being here." A slight sarcastic twinge began the sentence, but he smiled at me, watching me eat the food like it was my last meal.

I took the napkin and cleaned my face with it before pushing the tray away. James was just watching me as I got up and dressed myself again, It felt good, people would always watch me. I was like Monique Gibeau to people, a classic whore in France who 'helped' soldiers. "James?" I asked, walking up to him. He looked enamoured with me, rookie mistake.

"Yes, my dear?"

"120 dollars. Including breakfast."

He raised an eyebrow at me. The time disappeared. It suddenly meant nothing anymore. Eyes staring at each other. I fell to my knees and heard the fishnets graze against the lush floor. Why couldn't I look around? James, like the bitch he was, started to leave. "James! James please." I croaked out.

"Whores die as whores." I felt crazy, and the sweet, dark black washed over me, I couldn't think anymore, and James had left me to burn out.

Soon enough, though, I brought myself up. Confused, I looked around until my eyes went to the floor. A knife. It was a shiny knife. When I picked it up, a drop of deep red blood fell from it and I stared, holding it. Who's blood was this?! But I dropped it as someone came in. She was dressed as a maid and had scruffy hair. "Has James not yet cleaned the knife? Oh dear. Well, the sheets are clean, that's all that matters." She smiled at me, and I elicited a small chuckle as a response.

"Um, would you mind telling me what happened here? It feels like I woke up from a horrible dream.."

"He killed you. That should be obvious enough."

Could my hands shake now I was dead? Apparently, so, I felt shaky, and I sat myself on the wall by a window. Everything felt off now. Not like I had any next of kin that would feel bad for me, but, I still felt like I was hurting someone. The woman left though, not even a sorry leaving her lips. I felt like I was going to explode. I'm dead? Why? I couldn't remember anything at all.

I heard nothing in my ears, and my heart wasn't beating, but it seemed like I was breathing. Still confused and scared, I roamed my own hands over my body, no scars. No stab wounds. What the fuck was happening?! I was still wearing the short, black dress with everything else. Suddenly I felt humbled. I felt humbled by the fact that I wasted my life being a prostitute in 1938. It wasn't right but it wasn't wrong either. Wasted it, with the drugs, and the various people. Men, women, freaks. Who fucking cared.

Sobbing, I stayed in that room for hours. James soon came back in and looked down at me. Literally and figuratively. "Did you fucking call me in just to kill me?"

He hummed and that was it. "Maybe it was because I wanted you forever hm? And so I can make you a better person. You are too beautiful to be working like that."

"I'm flattered," I said flatly, taking off my heels and not making eye contact with him. "Fine, if I'm stuck here where is a spare room."

"You will stay here with me."

"Like hell, I will."

He sneered at me. "You have a roof over your head, you have food at your disposal, alcohol, cigarettes! You have everything now at your fingertips, how can you not be satisfied with that!?"

"Because you fucking killed me!!" I stood up and prodded his chest with my finger, beginning to walk out, grabbing my purse in the meantime.

I felt his eyes on me as I walked out of the room.

Time passed quicker in this hotel once you were dead it seemed. I was always roaming the halls, soliciting people for fun. I never had a thirst for blood like the others. I walked past James one evening, a tension created around us as we made eye contact. A sexual tension that I didn't feel with anyone else who thought they were high and mighty. "Y/N. Let me make everything up to you. Dinner. Tonight in my room."

I raised an eyebrow at him as I leaned against a wall. He just smiled at me confidently, Well he was cute I will give him that. "Do I have to wear my heels?"

His smile just widened. "You can wear as much or as little as you like. Steal from a guest if you want." James then quickly kissed my cheek and walked off in the opposite direction of me. I didn't mind watching him walk away, but I shook that out of my mind and made my way to another door, knocking swiftly on it.

A pretty woman opened the door and I smiled at her. "Good morning! I was wondering if I could come in and have a talk? I'm a bit lonely here.." I put on my quiet shy persona, and she just smiled warmly.

"Of course my little mouse." She truly was beautiful as she smiled, her blonde hair was in a top bun, and she was wearing a white, low-cut dress to the floor.

"James?"

"You look so beautiful my dear." I smiled and he held my hand as he walked me in. "The dress looks so familiar to me."

"I met with a lovely woman called Elizabeth, She has long blonde hair, and she told me she's married to you, but it's an open marriage." I just giggled and sat on a chair opposite James. He grinned and nodded.

"Of course, it was my darling Countess. She is truly wonderous. She must have smelt me on you and took you in."

"Like, your cologne?"

He nodded as the maid walked in with some plates and placed them on the table I was sitting in front of. Everything looked fit for royalty, and I couldn't see myself eating any of this. "My dear please eat this. Miss Evers made it all for you to enjoy. You deserve nothing but the best food."

The candles entranced me, and I was staring at the flames, moving and burning. Everything in this hotel made me feel like I didn't belong here. The small roast was in front of me, and it didn't feel right to take a slice. "Hummingbird why don't you take some food and eat up. You haven't eaten anything since I gave you Breakfast."

"This... James. It's so much. I haven't had this much food in front of me. Let alone a whole roast! It's... overwhelming."

James got up and kneeled next to me. His eyes were soft. He never had that look on his face before. "Oh my darling, how about I give you a small forkful, and we can go from there?" He asked, putting some food on my own plate. It felt like I was a child, but it worked. No one dared enter now, otherwise, I had to die another time. Smells flooded me. Slowly, James took a fork and put some of the food on it, reaching for me. "Come on my dear, let me help you eat." As embarrassing as it felt, he helped me eat. Eating this much wasn't normal, and I avoided James' worried gaze.

We finished our food after about 20 minutes and I smiled to myself, happy that I had eaten something. "Do you feel better now my dear?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you James." He held my hands and pulled me up gently. "I feel so tired now.." The silent tension was replaced with just a comfortable silence as he held me.

"Let's get you to your bed then hm?" I nodded in response, and he kissed me, which felt odd, but nice. A genuine kiss, not a kiss that my clients had nothing behind it.

"That sounds nice James. Thank you."

⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶

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lcnelyghost · 2 years ago

Note

how about James march trying his best to keep the reader away from the countess, but they eventually start talking and it ends up with the countess manipulating the reader into thinking James doesnt like them? some angst maybe idkkk

I hope u have a great day, Thank u sm!!

ps: i love ur work :)

𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔢, 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰//𝔧𝔭𝔪 ✰

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; 𝔧𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔦𝔠𝔨 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤; 𝔭𝔤

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; 𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔭𝔲𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫, 𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔰

The sound of silence was the only sound present in the Cortez. Everyone was either out, asleep, or just trapped here, remaining in secret for however long they wished to be hidden.

You however, were wide awake in bed, just staring at the ceiling. James lay asleep beside you. His dark chocolate brown hair slightly messed up, a few bits resting upon his forehead. He always looked so peaceful when he was sound. You could never help but to admire his beautiful, sleeping form. With him being a ghost, he didn’t need much sleep. But even the dead got tired at times.

You sighed and slid out of bed, cringing when you saw James stir. You managed to creep quietly to another spot of the room, changing into clean clothes before leaving a note for you’re partner when he woke up.

Dearest James,

I have gone down to the bar for a bit of peace. I may not be here when you wake up, so no need to go looking for me. I will arrive back when i’m fully relaxed.

Love, Y/N.

You finished signing off the note before heading down to the bar. Luckily enough, Liz was still up serving drinks. So you wouldn’t need to help yourself and go a tad bit crazy. Perhaps she’d make sure you were keeping a limit on how much you were drinking.

She smiled at you before placing a glass down, putting in a few bits of ice. You liked when the two of you could talk in the dead hours of night. It was far more peaceful and no one would be able to disturb either of you.

“What are you in the mood for tonight, honey?” Liz asked. You requested you’re choice of beverage and she was busy making it within seconds. In the distance, you could see Sally sitting in one of the booths.

Liz handed you you’re drink and you thanked her gracefully. You took a sip before lighting a cigarette.

“Can’t sleep?” Liz guessed.

You shook you’re head and blew out a cloud of smoke. Not a single soul was in sight but yourself, Liz, and Sally. A chill ran down you’re spine as you listened in to the deadly silence.

“Is anyone else even up at this time?” You questioned. Liz just poured herself a drink and sat on the stool behind the bar.

“Well.. John sometimes comes down. I think Iris is probably sound asleep. And my Tristan always hits the snooze button the minute he lays down.” The two of you giggled. I think most of the ghosts were aware that Tristan LOVED his sleep. Even in death, he still found it incredibly important.

“Oh, and the Countess is always just out or in her room with Donovan or whoever she’s still with these days.” Liz said, swiftly gulping down her beverage. You raised a brow and stared behind her in deep thought.

“Everything ok honey?”

You were quick to snap back into reality. “Oh yeah, yeah. Just.. i’ve never seen her in person.”

Liz nearly choked on the small bag of chips she was now snacking on. “You’ve never seen the Countess?!?”

You awkwardly bit you’re lip. “No..”

Liz sighed a little. “Even.. even Mr March hasn’t mentioned her to you?”

“Nope..”

She looked rather confused but decided to shake it off. You were about to finish you’re drink but you seemed to notice how Liz was staring at the ground floor beneath the bar, paying close attention to the beautiful blonde woman walking through the doors.

“That’s her.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s the Countess.” Liz pointed out, getting herself off of the bar stool and pretending to clean up the minute the Countess caught her looking.

You drank the last of you’re glass before taking a good look at her. Soon enough, the two of you locked eye contact.

She smirked slightly before dismissing the thought of returning to her suite and heading up to the bar. Had you made a mistake by letting her notice you’re presence? You didn’t have a clue. From what you’ve heard of the Countess, you knew she wasn’t one to fuck around with. Be careful with you’re words. Always.

Her heels tapped against the stairs going upwards to the bar. Liz gave you a sort of ‘good luck’ expression before going off to speak to Sally.

She finally entered the bar and you turned you’re back to her, hoping she’d just go back to wherever she was originally planning on going.

That thought ended and you’re bubble was immediately burst. She took a seat on the bar stool next to you, sensing the fear radiating within.

“New face I take it?” She laughed with a slight hint of coldness to her tone, calling for Liz to come over and make her a drink. You saw the friendly, now nervous barmaid whisk out a large, fancy glass containing some sort of red liquid. You assumed it was wine, of course.

You gathered enough courage to face her, forcing a smile. “I’ve been here and there in the Cortez.”

“Hm, so what is it that draws you in to spend you’re time in this place?” The Countess questioned. You thought wisely about what answer you’d give her but just guessed it would be best to tell her the truth. You weren’t exactly threatened by her, but you just didn’t really want to know what she would do if you dared to offend her in any way, shape, or form.

“I stay here for someone who has drawn me in from the very first moment I met him.” You replied, watching her take a sip of her drink. She licked her lips and stared at you with great interest. Playfulness, even.

“Would I care to know this person?”

You sighed. “Maybe. Maybe not..”

She chuckled before signalling to you that she wanted an answer. Now.

“His name is James Patrick March. You may not have heard of him, but he has quite the reputation. So I won’t be surprised if you know who he is.”

She grinned wickedly before giggling softly. You blinked and wondered if telling her was the correct choice to make.

“Yes. As it turns out, i’m aware of who James is.”

You were confused on why she used his first name. You knew the guests and other ghosts only referred to him as Mr March. That was what he expected from all of them.

“Have you met?”

She laughed even further and you began to feel nauseous.

“James and I go way back. Though i’m sure you’re aware that he’s not from you’re timeline.” The Countess whispered. You nodded you’re head gently and didn’t know if you really wanted to find out how the Countess was acquainted with you’re beloved.

“You see, James and I were rather close back in our day. He appeared to have drawn me in with the same darkness I presume he drew you in with. It’s a pity though. Even when he put a ring on my finger, I didn’t entirely know what I was walking into.” Lying bitch. James had been the one to suffer for years due to her unloving and selfish personality. Though, that you had absolutely no clue about.

The minute she finished her last few sentences, you practically choked on you’re cold refill.

“I’m- i’m sorry?” You sputtered. James had a wife?

The Countess laughed again and took a few more sips of her drink. You felt yourself begin to feel like an idiot. James had been wed to her, and you knew nothing about it. He hadn’t mentioned anything that would indicate he had a previous lover. Especially not that his past lover was the Countess..

“I must warn you, he can be quite a handful when he wants to be. In fact, i’m still forced to have atleast one meal with him each month.” She huffed. You looked at her in disbelief. So that’s why James was never ‘available’ to see you on one specific day each month. Well, that’s how Miss Evers had put it.

“I’m guessing you’re aware of his past. I did not support his actions. But, I had to live with them. I tried to tell him about my doubts in our relationship, but I had no choice. I was stuck. I knew James would certainly never let me move forward..” The Countess lied again. Her tone was filled with pure, mock sadness.

You were at a loss for words. You’re.. you’re James was a control freak? If you ever wanted to leave him, he’d hold you captive within the walls of this hellhole?? That wasn’t what had struck you most. It’s the fact that he had been a lover of this woman for so long, and you didn’t even know about it..

I mean what could you possibly do? It was clear she wasn’t fond of him anymore, but was he still madly in love with her? Was he even YOU’RE James? Perhaps he’d been using you on the nights and days he never got to see the Countess.

“I must be getting back to my suite. Just.. keep in mind what I told you.” She grinned again, winking at you before abandoning her drink and leaving.

You sat there, a dreadful feeling of hurt and loneliness slowly passing over you. You’d been lied to. Again. So many men had all sorts of experiences in you’re life, and you thought James might just have been the one that changed everything. Well weren’t you the fool.

Liz came back over to you after she realised the Countess had left. She noticed the lining of tears in you’re eyes, suddenly growing worried.

“Sweetie, is everything alright?”

You fumbled for words. “I.. I need to go..”

You placed a hand over you’re mouth and dashed off. Leaving Liz confused and even more worried than what she was before.

***

You ran from hallway to hallway, desperately trying to get back to you’re suite. You passed Tristan on the way, he was fully clothed but was furiously rubbing at his clearly tired eyes. By the looks of it, he’d just awoken from his slumber.

“Oh hey Y/N..” He yawned, stumbling backwards when you shoved past him, still sobbing.

“Damn, someone’s pissed.” Tristan mumbled sleepily.

***

You finally reached you’re suite and burst through the door. There was no sight of James, so you ran to the bedroom and slammed the door behind you.

Curling up into a ball on the bed, you just sobbed. Sobbed and sobbed and sobbed you’re precious heart out, trying to release some of you’re pain.

James was quick to appear before you, totally stunned and extremely angry in case someone had hurt you.

“Darling! Oh, my darling.. what is wrong?” He said, reaching over to place a hand on you’re shoulder. You only flinched back in pure rage.

“Don’t touch me you bastard!”

James stared at you, wide eyed. He was totally bewildered. What had he done that would have hurt you so?

“I spoke with a familiar face in the bar. Very familiar, actually. You’d certainly know her..”

“Her?” He raised a brow.

“YOU’RE WIFE.”

James looked at you blankly. “Darling.. whatever do you mean?”

You scoffed and flew off the bed, pushing past him. He was quick to follow you into the sitting room.

“What do you mean ‘what do I mean?’ you asshat! You know exactly what I mean, James!” You screamed angrily. Flopping down onto the sofa in you’re fit of rage.

“Dearest please.. I don’t understand..”

You laughed at his foolishness. “The Countess. Does that ring any bells, Jimmy?”

He gulped slightly. You only referred to him as ‘Jimmy’ when you were extremely pissed. Now he knew he was in trouble.

“Dear, this a misunderstanding!” He yelled back. Beginning to grow frustrated with his words not even being acknowledged or listened to.

“James.. I know for a fact that this isn’t a misunderstanding. The Countess told me everything. How you got married, that you wouldn’t let her leave, how you trapped her in here! Is that what you’ll do to me?” You whimpered, noticing the look of hurt on his face.

He took a few steps closer to you and sat on the armchair nearby, sighing.

“My love, you know I would never hurt you. Ever. And as for the Countess, that woman isn’t so perfect herself. Our story.. wasn’t like that at all. I was betrayed, lied to. I thought I had fallen in love but I was so confused.. and desperate for that matter. Elizabeth used me as a distraction. A past lover of hers had passed away, and she felt herself also on the brink of death. So.. I tried so very hard to help the poor dear. Something in her had interested me, so.. I found myself feeling the need to make her happy. But what I didn’t know, was it was all a trick. A cruel, meaningless, trick. Her past lover was still alive and well. He offered to give her something I couldn’t. Immortality. That man had been infected with what appeared to be some sort of ancient blood virus.. something that would make one strong and forever beautiful. Elizabeth agreed to run away with him and his other lover, threatening to leave everything I had with her behind. They were all unaware that I knew all about this wicked plan. I.. I couldn’t help myself. I wanted her back. I still craved her touch and the warm feeling of undying love. So, I hid her lover away within the walls of the Cortez. He was trapped. Never to be found again. Just a few years ago.. Elizabeth managed to find out about this news. I didn’t bother hiding it. Whatever I did wouldn’t matter. I was practically abandoned by her so many years ago. All I did was watch as she moved on from man to man, not a single thought going to me at all..”

You looked at him with shock. Feeling nothing but guilt and utter stupidity. The Countess hadn’t been the victim in all this. It was you’re James.. you’re poor, poor James.

“So, my dear. The Countess was not the first woman I fell in love with. It was you..” He whispered, getting up from his chair and kneeling down in front of you.

“Oh James.. oh James!” You cried, wrapping you’re arms around him.

“I’m sorry.. i’m so, so, so sorry!” You cried further. James shushed you gently and pulled out his handkerchief, drying you’re tear stained cheeks.

He pulled you into his touch, kissing you’re lips softly. You returned the kiss, turning it into a more passionate, loving experience.

“Darling..”

“Yes, James?”

“Marry me.”

***

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰!!

𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱; @v-love (𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔳 𝔬𝔣𝔠)

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