#theresa sutton x briar daly

[missameliep]

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Three: Racing Hearts

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU  Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC) Rating: Teen and Up (there are some swearing) Word count: ~10K

Summary: Hearts are racing faster than the horses at Edgewater. The new day begins and is more eventful than Elizabeth and her friends could have anticipated.

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Luke Harper; Vincent Foredale; Theresa Sutton.

Notes:  * All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. * I want to thank @princess-geek and @noesapphic for being my betas in this chapter. Thank you, girls, you're awesome! * Non-English words at the notes in the end. * Your eyes do not deceive you, after a year without updates, a new chapter dropped. Sorry about the lack of updates, I hope to finish editing the next chapter in the next days. * This is my submission to @choicesjanuarychallenge day 8: Clear | Stormy | Travel.

“Are you telling Hamid?” Briar asked, glancing at Elizabeth lying beside her and staring unblinking at the ceiling.

“I guess that’s not something you just... say...”

“What then? Will you text him?”

“How would I even start a conversation like that through text?”

“Nudes proved to be extremely effective icebreakers.”

Nervously, Elizabeth giggled; not entirely sure her friend was joking.

“I don’t know... If it feels... right, I’ll try to be more assertive next time we’re together...”

“Assertive?” Briar laughed and rolled over to her side, throwing her black hair back and propping her cheek in one hand. “You must flirt back. Be seductive.”

“I have no idea how to do any of that. I’ll embarrass myself if I try.”

“I can teach you.”

“Believe me. I’m unteachable when it comes to these sorts of things,” Elizabeth laughed, remembering her friend Renata’s attempts to get her out of her shell and make a move on one of her first crushes.

“Trust me. My techniques are infallible!” she nudged her friend.

“You sound like a cartoon villain!” she giggled.

“I didn’t hear a no.”

“It’s late. Time to sleep.”

“Can I stay?" Briar curled like a cat nestling over the duvet with her arms around her torso. "I’m so comfortable right now...”

“Sure. But my alarm clock will ring in –” Elizabeth reached the mobile over the nightstand and squinted her eyes to see the time. “– 4 hours.”

“Why?”

“I have to check the horses and the preparations for our picnic before breakfast.”

“Nope... I’m heading out –” Briar rolled out of the bed, put on the slippers and walked to the door. “– But good luck with all of that. Sleep tight.”

“You too.” Elizabeth smiled, going under the duvet while the other closed the door quietly.

As the antique pendulum floor clock at the foyer chimed when the small hand reaches eleven, the soles of the riding boots clicked sharply against the wood when Elizabeth ran down the stairs two steps at a time. Luckily, Lady Dominique was nowhere around to chastise her for such an improper behaviour and remind the rules inside the manor.

The apparent misbehave has a reason: the weather forecast changed, and rainstorms are expected sooner than previous announcements. They must hurry and leave now if they want to go out for a horse ride, have a picnic like planned and be back safely and dry at the manor.

Nevertheless, getting everybody ready is a nearly impossible task. The schedule got delayed by an hour because her friends would not get up at the agreed hour or stop debating in the group chat whether they should or should not go to the pub at Moorfield this evening; even Edmund joined their discussions. Only Hamid remained silent; nobody heard from him since they retreated to their rooms the night before and he vanished from his room early in the morning.

“He will be back in time. Don’t worry, Lizzy,” Briar texted her back, but she can’t help it but worrying.

She wished he had told anyone where he went by himself. The property has many paths through the woods, which can be confusing to those not used to them, and Hamid is the impulsive kind of guy to get too far and lost. Not to mention the boars. If he’s hurt nobody would even know where to start looking for him...

Why am I thinking of all these horrible scenarios?

“That’s ridiculous,” she tells herself. “The universe is not working against me. Right?”

Another message from the group: no news from Hamid, but they are talking about second-breakfast and elevenses now. She deletes the angry cat emoji she was about to send; they are probably messing with her, and she won’t give them the satisfaction.

Finally, she understands why Lady Dominique is so strict about punctuality and is on the verge of forgetting manners and leaving behind whomever is not ready in fifteen minutes… Evidently, she would never be that rude, but the thought crosses her mind anyway.

Dashing into the ground floor while texting Edmund about Hamid’s whereabouts, she collided with a side table on the hallway. Nimbly, she lounged forward; her hands balanced it, and she thanked heavens the white statuette didn’t collapse to the ground. Her grandmother’s wrath is the last thing she needs right now.

“Why so many side tables, grandma? Those are a menace!” she muttered under her breath, tucking the mobile on the coat pocket. Judging by the familiar chuckle, the scene must have been amusing.

“There is a reason your grandmother forbids running inside.”

Whirling around, she met her father standing a few metres away on the hallway coming from the library, a wide teasing grin on his face.

To her surprise, right beside him was Hamid. The sight of him and his ridiculously beautiful face stole her breath and words for a second. Averting her gaze, she focused on her father and what she was supposed to say.

“Would you tell her?” she asked, tilting her head a little bit, and forcing an offended expression.

“It will be our secret,” Vincent stage-whispered. “Mother is yet to forget the incident with the Cordonian crystal apple... It was an irreplaceable gift from late Queen Eleanor.”

“That was not my fault!”

Her father tsked. “Harry used to say the same...”

Smiling, the trio met half-way and she hugged her father, who kissed the top of her head and complimented her elegance sporting the riding attire in navy blue and hair manhandled in one long braid. He looked proud at the sight of Edgewater’s gold crest on her jacket.

Without meeting Hamid’s gaze, she returned his wishes of a good morning and admitted in an almost inaudible tone, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I didn’t know,” he said entirely too pleased.

“You would, if you’ve read my texts...”

Right hand over his chest, he apologised, “Sorry, Liz. The battery died and I didn’t bring the charger...”

“Why didn’t you say so?” she said, taking the mobile from the pocket. “I could’ve lent you my spare one. I’ll text Melinda and ask her to take it to your room.”

Vincent looked amused between them and joined the conversation.

“Do not be mad at him. It is entirely my fault, Eliza. We met by chance, and I insisted he joined me for breakfast. There were some matters I wanted Hamid’s opinions about.”

Her gaze darted from the mobile to her father’s face. “Were you working?”

Hamid laughed at her reproving tone, or possibly at the absurd notion of him working in his free time. “For two seconds. Nothing related to work can compete with more interesting topics of conversation.”

“Poetry and love,” Vincent added, with a grin, trying to appease the curiosity in her eyes. “I wanted to show Hamid a particular book from our collection. It belonged to his namesake.”

“A very interesting tome. I wouldn’t mind taking another look some other time.”

“You are always welcome in our library.”

Observing the exchanges between them and their smiling faces, a warm feeling spread inside of her chest. Her father is always gentle mannered and friendly, mostly due to his personality than his upbringing and lessons to fulfil his duties as the Earl of Edgewater, but there is an undeniable sense of pleasure when he is around Hamid.

“I am glad you were enjoying yourselves...”

“How anyone could not? It’s a privilege to have your father sharing his wise words...”

“Likewise. Our conversations are delightful,” Vincent said and patted Hamid on the shoulder. The other returned the compliment with a sincere smile. “However, I believe I kept you away from your young peers far too long. I am certain Eliza misses your company and will show you a far better time...”

Her cheeks reddened at the words and the knowing smile he directed at her; however, Hamid chose not to acknowledge either with a look or cheeky comment, keeping his attention at the lord, which she was truly grateful for.

“Will you not join us, sir?”

“The last thing you need is some old folk like me following you around and ruining the fun…”

“You would not bother us, dad.”

“You are too kind, my dear. But I have a busy day ahead.”

“It’s Saturday! You promised you’d rest.”

He chuckled at her remark, and it reminded him of when she was much younger and pouted whenever he needed to work during their time together.

“Later,” he said patting her arm. “Now, I am expected at Ledford Park. Enjoy your day and be careful about the rain. The paths become too slippery for the horses.”

“We’ll return before the rain.’’

Using both hands, he cupped her cheek affectionately and kissed the top of her head again.

As soon as the taps of shoe soles faded in the distance, and it was only the two of them, Hamid stepped closer.

“You look gorgeous,” he purred while his hand reached the side of her face, gently curling a long lose curl around his fingers, before tucking it behind her ear. The backs of his fingers softly brushed her skin, causing a hundred butterflies to flutter in her stomach, and moved away. “I told myself you would never look more beautiful than yesterday and yet... You outdid yourself.”

Unnecessary to see her own reflection to know redness was blooming in her face. How she wished to keep her emotions to herself! But a mere touch or a sweet word of his and the rosy of her cheeks give away her emotions, and she hates that about herself. Hamid on the other hand admires exactly that about her: her tongue may not say the words, but the truth emerges each time she blushes. And he dared assume it was not sheer embarrassment of being complimented that pinks her cheeks, but something else entirely.

“Were you actually running after me?” he asked softly, lips stretched in a grin that showed his perfectly lined teeth, expectation glinting in his eyes. “In spite of your grandmother’s prohibition?”

“Actually, I was on my way to check on the others.”

He pouted and his entire face fell in mocking disappointment, and she stuttered.

“Did – Did I say something wrong?”

Smiling, he clicked his tongue and raised his chin in negative, like she learned from the series they watched together is customary in his country and not simply a cute thing he does.

“Your honesty keeps me humble.”

“Oh!” Averting her gaze, she looked downward at her fingers fidgeting with one golden button of her jacket. Before the moment seemed completely over, she forced herself to mumble a simple question, “What if I were?”

“That would heal my wounded ego, and I might say that among many other things, I’d happily take the blame for any bibelot you break. Or, better yet, hide any evidence of its previous existence... Which knowing your grandmother is probably a safer choice.”

She chuckled and looked back at him and how cute he looked with a silly little smile. Perhaps she should’ve let Briar give her a few pointers on being flirty.

“Can you spare a few minutes?” he asked in his most appealing tone, “I was hoping we –”

Before he finished his sentence, voices of their friends echoed from the other hallway and in the blink of an eye they were surrounded by them. Everyone talking at the same time and over each other, inquiring about the picnic and if Briar could ride wearing those high hell boots or not.

“It’s not safe!” Edmund and Annabelle said at once.

“The horse will do the walking, not me,” she insisted.

“Maybe after the picnic?” Hamid whispered into Elizabeth’s ear, one of his warm smiles illuminating his features when she faced him.

“Sure,” she sighed, knowing that between their friends and her family, there wouldn’t be many free moments during the day. Hooking her arm with his, she pleaded, “Now, come and help me. I need to borrow your skills to get everybody out of the house.”

Through the narrowest part of the unpaved path, hooves clopped rhythmically while the horses carried the group onward. With every gust of wind blowing through the crowds of the trees, rained leaves that danced in the air for a beautiful moment before sinking to join the crunchy sunset-coloured blanket covering the ground.

The further they were from the manor, the more the conversations were punctuated by the chirping of birds and more often than not by Briar’s worried remarks.

What started as a little distress at being around horses turned into a quarrel against the animals. Narrowing her eyes at the brown mare Annabelle was riding, Briar’s arms wrapped tightly around Edmund’s waist, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.

“Look at that evil eye!” Briar’s nasal voice resounded from the back of the line, and two of the horses snorted in sequence, swishing their tails. “That beast hates me already… and is telling the others about it!”

Hamid’s silvery voice followed, insisting on explaining the amiable nature of the majestic creatures to no avail.

Smiling, Elizabeth considered how sympathetic he has been with their friend and her fear of horses, despite Briar’s previous threats to kick him in the chin or in a more painful place if a horse bites her.

“I have been around horses long enough to know they can’t talk or plot against you,” Annabelle added, her voice ringing with laughter.

“Wouldn't it be amazing if they could talk?” Hamid mused a recurrent desire of his: since he was a boy, he wished animals could talk to humans, or at least could communicate with him particularly. “I wonder what they would say…”

“Probably they’d complain about ungrateful humans they must carry around on their backs...” Annabelle picked on Briar and this remark earned a formidable string of complaints about her insensitivity...

Luke held a chuckle and gazed at the woman riding by his side on the back of a tan coated thoroughbred mare called Clover, that became her trusted companion in many summer days since she started her equitation lessons at the age of 8, like she told him earlier at the stables.

Today, Elizabeth was quieter than usual, not displeased by the company or the ongoing conversation rather than enraptured by the activity and by seeing the countryside after five long years; besides, like many introverts, she greatly prefers to be surrounded by talkative people who do most of the talking, sparing her the obligation of preventing awkward silences.

“Horses were always my favourites,” he spoke loud enough to be heard by Elizabeth, drawing her attention, “I feel I can understand them...”

She contemplated him for a second and the wide smile curling his full lips, and asked with the most serious tone she could muster, “Luke, are you going to confirm the horses are secretly scheming against Briar?”

Her joke prompted him to chuckle, a soft sound rambling from his chest, and she smiled.

“Hey! Not so loud,” he whispered, failing to keep a serious face. “I sworn secrecy!”

They let out wholehearted laughs, and Elizabeth complimented his riding skills, curious of how a boy raised in a very urban city in the United States could be such an expert around horses.

“Once you spend so much time around horses, you learn a thing or two…”

“How much time are we talking about?”

The question was the cue to Luke tell her about his training in equitation growing up and the prizes earned when he participated in competitions as a teenager that helped him earn a place at the polo team at university.

“Impressive!” she observed. “Maybe we should put your skills to test one of these days… Edgewater breeds some of the finest racehorses in the country.”

He beamed one of those shiny open smiles that crinkle the corners of his green eyes. The suggestion of riding together some other time and of a friendly race was promptly acquiesced, and he was clearly happy.

“A race?” Hamid asked already galloping to approach the two at the front of the group. “That sounds fun!”

“FUN?” Briar cried. “Only if your idea of fun is getting trampled to death by these awful beasts!”

“Don’t worry! Nobody is racing today,” Elizabeth reassured her to no avail. “But we can take the longer path to the ruins and enjoy just a little longer…” She described the track that crossed the meadows in which she used to ride with her brothers and their friends.

The proposition was eagerly accepted by everyone other than Briar. To please her, Edmund suggested they followed the plan and take the shorter route through the woods.

Briar raised a finger to Edmund and said seriously, “Promise me you will not let it dash like a maniac and trample over me!”

The blonde nodded, promising he’d take care of her, and it was enough to appease her. A barely perceptible smirk curled his thin lips when Briar buried her head on his back, hiding her face.

The group eventually parted and after a few minutes, a clearing provided the first glimpse of the ruins standing beyond the meadows peppered by wildflowers.

Hamid’s enthusiastic remarks stole Elizabeth’s attention for a moment. Even though he often says everything is the most beautiful and most extraordinary he’s ever seen, his words were not far from the truth. Despite the grey clouds looming, the countryside could not be more idyllic, and the ruins were impressive. Even considering all the missing parts, like the long-gone stained glasses and fallen tower, their imaginations could rebuild the greatness of the ancient stone building when it was standing tall centuries ago. And for a long moment, that's what they did, while conjecturing about the former inhabitants.

“Some say it’s a magical place...” Annabelle confided, and Hamid couldn’t contain his excitement to learn more about the place while she shared details of an old tale Earl Vincent has told his children countless times.

When a resumed version of the tale reached its end, the horses galloped towards the ruins meandering a field peppered by tiny yellow and white flowers. The hooves clapped against the dirt path, the gentle clip-clop punctuating their conversations, while Elizabeth led the way and Luke remained close, both sharing their tales on equitation classes. Annabelle fell behind, eyes lost in contemplation; and Hamid’s were suddenly inundated by mischief.

The tranquillity of the ride didn’t last long. The sharp sound of hooves resonated when Hamid’s horse trotted increasingly faster past them. The horse’s mane and tail undulated with the wind while they distanced. A flock of birds flew away not without sharp piercing noises that sounded like reprimands against the rude behaviour of the four-legged beast and the noisy human on its back, disturbing the peace in their haven.

Dark hair tousled by the wind and grinning, he announced he’d be the first to arrive at the ruins and defied his friends to join him.

“Come on!” he cried over his shoulders, “It’s fun!”

Annabelle was quick in following his invitation and trotted past Luke and Elizabeth, who smiled at their merriment. When she considered joining them, a loud gasp escaped her mouth. In shock, she watched the scene unfolding. Less experienced and unfamiliar with the route, Hamid misled the horse, missing a curve many metres ahead. His body swayed in the saddle, almost slipping, and her heart skipped a beat. At full speed, the horse galloped, crossing the tall grass, and reaching another path at the opposite direction that would take them back to the woods.

All the previous feelings that troubled her mind came racing back. At that speed, either Hamid, the horse or both would get injured due to the many obstacles, like roots and ditches.

Swiftly, Luke guided his horse to the same direction, quickly gaining speed; and a moment after Elizabeth and Annabelle followed his lead.

Horse and its rider disappeared for a moment, and the next time Elizabeth had a glimpse of them, Luke was getting closer. Despite the adrenaline, his words to Hamid seemed calm. Parts of the instructions to slow the horse echoed in the field.

Thrill running through her veins, Elizabeth’s heart raced at the same rhythm of Clover’s hooves hitting the ground while she followed them. The horses left a cloud of dusty in their awake and Elizabeth bowed and squinted her eyes, trusting Clover would find the way to Hamid.

When her eyes opened again, Luke had managed to slow Hamid’s horse before reaching too deep into the woods. Anxiously, she dismounted Clover. Adrenaline high in her system, she ran the remaining metres to where the horses had stopped, and Luke was helping Hamid dismount.

“Is he...?” Elizabeth breathlessly asked Luke, and he nodded.

“He’s fine.”

Her eyes inspected Hamid from the top of his head to his feet, as if still trying to convince herself he was perfectly fine. She inhaled deeply and tried to calm herself.

Growing up, she got used to the thrill of races through this fields and woods and all sorts of shenanigans with her brothers and their friends, pretending to be part of the group of heroes that fought the Shadow Court; somehow, this right now felt completely different. Maybe she was way more out of practice than she thought, considering the last time she rode a horse. Maybe the years made her fearful and cured her of the past recklessness. Maybe she has grown into one of those nagging adults that spoiled everybody’s fun.

“This time you can’t deny it!” Hamid grinned and said out of breath, “You were running after me!”

“You joke?!”

“I see you are alright!” Annabelle laughed behind Elizabeth, having dismounted the horse, and joined the group of riders, under an immense oak tree.

“Have you seen how fast I was?” he directed his question to her, too excited.

“I certainly did. And I imagine how sore you’ll be later.”

“It’s not as... comfortable as my Suzuki... I admit. But it was so fast! This horse is... extraordinary!” he panted. His enthusiasm cut by loud exhales and breathed laughs.

Relief had washed over her companions at the sight of the unharmed Hamid, however, Elizabeth’s jaw tightened and her whole body shivered.

“If you haven’t noticed, we were running to prevent you from hurting yourself! There’s nothing funny about it!”

“My heroes.”

The smile he flashed, didn’t ease her frown.

How could he not take his own safety seriously?

“You said you knew how to ride...”

“I may have overestimated my skills... it seems... and perhaps my expertise with a different kind of horsepower was not immediately transferred…” he said, and this could be a reference to any of the vehicles and dangerous activities he enjoys in his free time. Leaning against the trunk of the oak tree, he tried to catch his breath, and failed to plaster a more relaxed expression. “But I’m a fast learner. Give me one more minute, and I’m ready to try again. I challenge you all to another race to the ruins.”

Heart thumping in her ears and knees risking buckling, Elizabeth crossed the remaining distance to him, who steadied himself against the trunk with an arm, pretending it was just to look cooler, which nobody would buy by now, not even her.

“Seriously?” she fumed. “You could get seriously hurt!” 

“I didn’t.”

His unconcerned manners remained undeterred by reason, and she let out an exasperated sigh.

In a voice as sweet as possible considering his current shortness of breath, he called her name, and leaned forward.

Raising one index finger, she stopped the predictable move of his hand before it touched her inflamed cheek.

“Dude, you couldn’t control the horse... if not for Luke...” Elizabeth trailed off, not daring say the alternatives out loud. All at once, it dawned on her the warnings the adults uttered back when she was a kid. That same uneasiness stormed, and her stomach was churning at the thought of any of those horrible things happening to Hamid.

Judging by the quizzical look in Hamid’s face, he couldn’t understand the distress in her voice nor why she was taking the incident this seriously. Nothing happened after all, which he regretted telling her once her eyes were alight like his mother’s whenever he does the opposite of what she expects from him – but he refrained from saying that.

“Liz,” he asked softly, trying his best to sound less confused than he was, “was it any different from the stories you and Edmund shared? You seemed amused sharing your shenanigans...”

“Yes, it’s completely different! First, we were kids and... –” didn’t know any better what this kind of absence felt like! “– Second, we knew these paths like the backs of our hands. Third, we had advanced lessons! Unlike you!” The emotions bubbling inside caused her voice to raise to a higher pitch and waver like the crowns of the trees dancing with the breeze. “Your self-confidence can get you hurt. Or killed. Just look what this kind of stuff does to people much more skilled than you! You must be responsible for your safety! What if Luke couldn’t reach you? Think about the people you’ll hurt... God!” She let out an exasperated sigh and covered her face with her hands; bowing his head, Hamid stepped back, trying to collect his thoughts after her outburst.

Annabelle’s footsteps on the dirty were loud enough not to be ignored. When she approached and stood between them, her presence interrupted whatever would follow this exchange.

“Fortunately, nobody got hurt, and we’re halfway to the ruins. So, can we get going? I’m starving!”

“Of course.” Elizabeth dusted off her clothes and adjusted the jacket, returning to the composed self everybody is used to, at least in the outside.

Walking away with Annabelle, she didn’t look back, but she felt Hamid's stare following her.

With a sympathetic smile, Luke patted Hamid on the back and asked if he was sure he could go on, and he nodded, still looking confused by Elizabeth’s reaction. Apparently the only one who didn't anticipate the coming storm.

When the group reached the ruins, the cloud in Elizabeth’s eyes had dissipated, but she couldn’t shy away the dreadful thoughts racing in her mind. Therefore, she welcomed the interruption when a middle-aged man with a pristine white uniform and the emblem of Edgewater walked in her direction, addressing her with the due ceremony and respect reserved to noblewomen like herself. For once, she felt too tired to oppose the ritual and kindly asked him to lead the way to the picnic setting.

In a clearing beside the ruins, four large picnic blankets had been settled over the grass with at least a dozen matching throw pillows; from two picnic baskets peeked bottles of lemonade and other colourful beverages, and exquisite food had been arranged all over the blankets, ranging from apple pie to different kinds of pastries, fresh fruits, jam, and sandwiches. The sight made her mouth water.

With the conformation everything was perfectly assembled, and settled the time of their return to disassemble the setting, the man left, making his way to a black van where another employee was waiting.

The four friends gathered around the food – and inevitably talked about the absent two.

“Should we text them?” Elizabeth asked, “See if they are alright?”

“They’re probably more than alright, and that’s the matter,” Annabelle muttered under her breath, and started typing in her mobile. “I’m texting we’ll start eating without them. That will get Briar’s attention.”

No reply came to this or any of the texts and pictures of the picnic, and the group comfortably settled down. Elizabeth watched Hamid stretching before easing into one of the large pillows on her left; she averted her eyes when he noticed the attention, focused on cleaning her hand with a wet wipe.

Several minutes later, a clip-clop announced the last horse’s arrival. Something that looked too much like disappointment was evident in Briar’s face. One hour ago, not a soul would expect her to wish to extend any stroll that involved the company of horses.

Annabelle and Elizabeth shared a knowing look, and no words were necessary to convey what they thought of that.

Edmund’s hands wrapped around Briar’s waist tentatively, and with a swift motion he brought her to the ground safe and sound; she thanked him with a lingering kiss on his cheek, that turned his skin as red as the colour of her lipstick, and reluctantly they parted. Edmund clucked his tongue and guided the horse to a tree next to the others, while Briar walked in the opposite direction, throwing glances over her shoulder.

Once the party was complete, it was time to truly enjoy the picnic. The sight of the food and setting was enough to rekindle Briar's cheerfulness.

“I remember this place from the series,” Briar pointed out. “The duel was shot right there, wasn’t it?”

Beside her, Edmund confirmed, indicating a small totem like the ones seen at museums, that contains the story of the building, and pointed at the place where the Ottoman Prince was shot.

“So romantic!” she sighed, lying on her side over a few cushions. “That scene left me breathless. Can you imagine having someone loving you that much? Risking their own life for you?” Theatrically, the back of one hand pressed against her forehead and she let out a dramatic sigh.

“Aside the fact the duel was based on misogynistic premises and claims over a fully-grown and rational human being, I won’t deny that it must have been exciting to see it all unfold!”

“It would’ve been perfect if the prince didn’t miss the shot.”

“Don’t forget the pistol had been tampered,” Edmund said, a little bit too enthusiastic to share his knowledge about the matter. “He didn’t stand a chance and was truly lucky the duke was such a bad shot and let him walk out with such a minor injury.”

“A duel is such a stupid stupid idea,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath and shoved the remaining of the sandwich inside her mouth.

The others looked at her with a mix of amusement and surprise.

“Don’t you find the idea of going to a secluded place with your nemesis and shooting them dead at dawn appealing?” Annabelle teased, “Of all people, I thought you would have the longest list of candidates...”

“God, no! Violence is not the answer to everything!”

“Sometimes it’s necessary,” Annabelle retorted. “Nonviolent resistance is poetic, but pointless when your enemy is determined to crush you or has a literal gun pointed at you... for instance, you don’t fight fascists with flowers or hugs.”

“I can see your point... But in their case, the entire thing was pointless! The prince was shot for nothing! The engagement went on for weeks after the duel and he could have died,” Elizabeth stressed the last word. “There were no antibiotics back then! If he died... she’d be alone... and Clara had just lost her mother and father... Can you imagine how scared and lonely she must have felt? The uncertainty?” her last words were barely audible, strained by the tightness in her throat and chest.

Breaking the silence, Luke remarked, “I thought you never watched the series.”

“I got curious...”

“I told you it was amazing!” Briar cried, pulling herself back to a sitting position. “We should watch together!”

“I agree violence rarely solves anything and usually brings more trouble,” Hamid mused, possibly referring to his own line of work. “But human nature is complex and even the best of us can make bad decisions moved by less than noble feelings.”

“Can you imagine how absolutely mad at that wanker the prince should’ve been at that point?” Annabelle asked, “The man was known for being a pacifist –”

“Not very pacifist, considering he was cool with putting a bullet through that other guy’s head,” Luke added.

“As if you wouldn’t!” Briar taunted.

“I don’t think I would! That’s not one of the cases violence would be justified...”

“I think you all would,” Briar pointed at each of her friends, “if you were in the prince’s shoes... even you, Lizzy, if that meant you could save someone you loved.”

“There are other options... More civilized.”

“Maybe there weren’t!”

“They could have eloped. Or left together to the Ottoman Empire or anywhere else...”

“Fleeing?” Briar grimaced. “Countess Clara was a strong woman; she would never run away without fighting!”

“That’s true. And you need to remember it was a different world back then,” Edmund re-joined the conversation, “they didn’t have games to settle their differences by blowing each other’s heads off safely... which is much healthier in my opinion. However, if you read Countess Clara’s journal, you’ll understand their reasons and the importance of the duel and how it sealed their bond...”

“That sounds romantic!” Briar clapped her hands and scooted closer. “Tell me more!”

Soon, the conversation changed and new topics more and less controversial followed.

At some point, Annabelle had grabbed a pencil and her sketchbook from her bag and sat over a boulder, looking pensive at the group and their simultaneous conversations.

Noticing it, Elizabeth excused herself and sat beside her.

“What are you drawing?”

“Just sketching...” Annabelle handed the sketchbook to her, who examined the various partial sketches of faces of their group, including herself.

A wistful smile replaced the blank expression in Annabelle’s face, and she sighed. 

“I used to come here with Harry all the time... and the twins. That tree was Juliette’s balcony. Harry fell on his bottoms trying to climb it after me and got furious because I couldn’t stop laughing... He blamed me for not taking my role seriously and that Juliette would never laugh at Romeo – which made me laugh even harder.”

“That sounds just like him...”

A strained laugh that turned into a sob escaped Annabelle's mouth, and she used the back of her hands to wipe some tears pooling in her hazel eyes.

“Sorry... If I knew what this place meant to you, I’d have picked some place else…” Elizabeth apologised, but the other smiled.

“Hey! Don’t you worry. I need new happy memories. And I can always use some practice.”

They sat in silence, while Annabelle resumed sketching the tower.

“I wish I could draw like that...”

“I can teach you, if you like,” Annabelle nudged her.

“I’ll take you up on that someday...” Elizabeth smiled, looking at the way she focused on the architectural details. “How long does it take you to paint someone’s portrait?”

“It depends on size, complexity of pose and background, things like that...” Excitedly, she practically bounced in place. “Do you wish me to paint yours? I already have so many ideas! Two words: flower crown!”

“Actually, I had someone else’s portrait in mind...”

Judging by the way she smiled, Annabelle already knew the answer to the question, but she asked anyway, “Whose portrait?”

Elizabeth fidgeted with one gold button of her jacket, and said softly, “Hamid’s birthday is in December… I was thinking he would enjoy an original Parsons...”

“It’s perfectly doable.”

“Do you think it’s too much to gift a friend?”

Annabelle shook her head, her ponytail moving from side to side. “There’s no such a thing. Art is a thoughtful gift, and you are a thoughtful person.” She paused and looked back at her friend. “And you care about him. That’s why you were so worked up before, right?”

Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her chest and bit the inside of her cheek, and sighed, “Why is he such a… frigging reckless idiot?”

Annabelle laughed, “I think the polite word is ‘spontaneous’.”

“You know what I mean. It’s stupid to put himself in danger like that…”

“Where you see danger, some people see exciting opportunities to experience life. This kind of thrill can be good to the soul.” 

“Do you think I’m being unreasonable?” the pitch of her voice raised slightly in the last word, conveying the outrage at the self-accusation.

“What if you were? Is that a bad thing? Nobody can be reasonable all the time. That’s how feelings work, isn’t it?” Annabelle nudged her side, and she caved, “I guess…”

Looking away at the horizon where leaden-coloured clouds in their endless swirls engulfed the hills, she fidgeted with one golden button. “Do you think I messed things up?”

“I’m not the one you should ask that question.” Annabelle tilted her head and raised her eyebrows indicating where Hamid and Luke were standing and engaged in an animated conversation.

For the first time in hours, she didn’t avert her gaze when Hamid noticed it, which seemed to encourage him to walk in their direction followed by Luke, both still talking enthusiastically. Their voices growing closer. When they arrived, Elizabeth’s shoulders tensed, and she only listened while Annabelle and Hamid talked about art.

Inspired by the light and wind, Annabelle asked Luke to pose mounting one of the horses, and she took many pictures with the mobile.

“For reference,” she explained to Hamid, who was curious about the concept.

A few moments later, the employees from Edgewater returned and Elizabeth exchanged a few words with them. With everyone minding their own businesses, Briar and Edmund took the opportunity to slip together to explore the ruins and Elizabeth decided to take a walk by herself, working on the lines of a possible dialogue with Hamid later.

A gentle tap on her shoulder caught her attention. A familiar presence standing behind her.

“Can we talk or are you still mad at me?” Hamid asked when she turned around to face him.

“I was not mad!”

Tilting his head, he simply smiled and gave her a knowing look. That look she’s so familiar by now and means he’s not buying it.

Crossing her arms in front of her chest, she didn’t back down, “I was reasonably explaining why you can’t do this sort of risky thing!”

“Then if you’re not mad, why are you still making that face every time you look at me?” He mockingly imitated her expression, narrowing his deep brown eyes and pressing his lips together in a thin line that curled downward in the edges.

“I don’t look like that!” she huffed, trying to keep a serious expression, too self-conscious of the way lines had definitely been creasing the area between her eyebrows.

“Of course not. Yours is angrier, but cuter. Like the angriest tiny kitten that you should fear but want to cuddle...”

She huffed again, “I don’t like when you do that.”

“Compliment your cuteness?”

“Say I’m tiny...” she snorted, “It’s rude!”

“Seriously? That’s what you’ve chosen to pick on what I said, Liz?” he asked getting cautiously closer. “Am I upsetting you? Do you want me to leave?”

“No...” she mumbled and dared look him in the eye. Biting the inside of one cheek, she was feeling too embarrassed and uncomfortable with this exchange. It was the opposite of what she had been rehearsing in her mind.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Or overstep. You’re a grown man and you can do whatever... risky and stupid thing you want… But... as your friend… I needed to warn you and –”

“You worry about me,” Hamid interrupted, saying the words she couldn’t. Welcomed by the way he smiled so openly, not a hint of judgement in his eyes, she nodded.

“I get it, and I appreciate it. I’m not used to people outside my family worrying about me.”

“Are we... okay?”

“Always.”

Smiling, he bent the arm closer to her, and with a flourish offered the crook of his elbow. “May I join your walk, my lady?”

“Are you back to your prince’s character?”

Gazing at her eyes, he said softly, “Today, I prefer that we simply be Hamid and Elizabeth, if you don’t mind.”

The butterflies in her stomach fluttered and tried to escape through her mouth, and she could barely answer him with a soft “Not at all.”

She linked her arm with his, and he took her hand and adjusted it in the crook of his elbow. Even after it was right in place, his hand remained over hers. Elizabeth had no intention in addressing the matter or ask him to remove it, on the contrary. The warmness of his hand spread and reached her chest and cheeks. It was always wonderful to enjoy the feeling of his soft and warm skin against hers, and his face transpired a similar enjoyment.

In comfortable silence they walked down a path framed by ancient oaks, distancing from the ruins and the place everyone else was. It was easy to forget the world in moments like these.

The wind blowing more insistently kept sweeping his hair until his hair products gave up, and she smiled at how messy and cute it became.

“Look at that!” he laughed, pointing at a flock of magpies in one of the trees.

Slowing their pace, they recited the nursery rhyme together pointing at each bird on the branches.

“And seven for a secret, never to be told,” she said looking at him, the lilt of her laughter and a smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

“Nine! There’s definitely nine!”

“Really?”

“You missed two that flew away.” Hamid pointed at the grey skies and recited the remaining verses like she taught him in the park, “Eight for a wish and nine for a kiss. How fortunate!”

“So, there will be a kiss in your future...”

“Our future,” he stressed the word.

“You saw nine,” she corrected with humour, “I did not...”

“Oh! In this case I must share my good fortune with you.”

He winked for good measure and red bloomed in her cheeks.  

“Oh! How kind of you!” she teased but looked away, when he chuckled. Her heart thumping louder and faster against its cage. Forcing herself to look back at him and meet his gaze and amused grin, she saw an opportunity; her next words slipped from her lips in a lower but steady voice, “I wonder why you would be so kind to me...”

His lips uncurled and there was no laughter this time. Positioning himself in front of her, Hamid took both her hands in his, not minding how cold and moist they were.

“Do I really need to explain myself?” Bowing his head, he smiled; and she looked up. His dark brown eyes sparkled despite the sunlight barely succeeding in breaking through a sea of dark clouds. “I wanted to kiss you since we met. The only question is: do you want me to or not?”

To be honest, she has wanted to kiss him for most of the time they have known each other, and not in a friendly way.

With anticipation, her lips rolled inside her mouth and her tongue moistened them, like it did other times. His hooded eyes stared at her lips, making her heart race. However, her doubts glued her in place, preventing her from closing that gap that decreased with each short intake of breath.

Her throat became as dry as when she walked through the Atacama that vacation long ago. She could drink an entire bottle now, or maybe it was time to simply get drunk of him, ignoring that little voice inside of her head that sounds too much like her grandmother these days and let her future self worry about everything else. 

Alas that was a thing she could do...

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders and focused on the soothing motion of his thumbs stroking the backs of her hands.

“After what you said... at your flat... I... I was under the impression you would rather kiss someone else...”

His lips parted while he tried to recall the conversation she mentioned. “Someone else?” Hamid asked, his confusion frowning his brow. “I wonder what I could’ve possibly said that has led you to this conclusion, Liz...”

While she collected her thoughts, a sharp cry cut the air and a noisy flock of birds flew away, startling them. A wail impossible to ignore irrupted from the ruins.

They looked at each other and mumbled at the same time, “Briar.”

This was the cue for them to run. Holding hands, they sprinted to the entrance of the collapsed building just as a wide-eyed Edmund exited carrying Briar bride-style.

“What happened?”

“She fell. I – I think she sprained an ankle,” Edmund cried, and Luke examined the bare foot.

“It hurts.” Briar moaned and pressed the black heeled boot she was holding tight against her chest.

“I’ll take her home and call Dr. Collins.”

“The van,” Elizabeth cried and pointed at the vehicle, “It’s faster.”

Edmund nodded and changed direction, dashing to the vehicle in a surprising speed.

“What if she broke a bone?” Annabelle asked.

“Maybe she should go to the hospital...” Hamid pondered, and they all agreed.

“There’s not enough room for everyone...” Luke inspected the back of the van filled with items from the picnic and no seats available.

“Who will go with her?” Hamid said, looking between Briar and Elizabeth for directions, but the first wasn’t looking at him and the latter didn’t answer. Elizabeth’s entire body stiffened, the hospital was the last place she could go now, and she hoped Annabelle or Luke would offer to go instead.

While easing Briar into the passenger seat, Edmund didn’t wait for the deliberation and said he’d go. “As soon as we have news, I’ll call you.”

Leaning against the passenger window, Annabelle looked seriously at Briar. “I will refrain from telling you now heels were a terrible decision until we know how serious your injury is!”

Despite the pain, Briar snorted and hugged Annabelle.

“Don’t have too much fun while I’m gone!”

Edmund took a seat beside her and, immediately, her head leaned on his shoulder, and he encircled her with one arm.

As the man in white closed the door and started the engine, Elizabeth stared at the van moving away, wondering if she should’ve suggested that someone else accompanied Briar instead of Edmund. Moorfield is a small city and a visit to the hospital from a member of one of the most illustrious families in the region with a woman who is not his fianceé might cause a fuss.

“Don’t worry, Liz.” Hamid placed a comforting hand on her back, meeting her eyes with an encouraging smile. “Briar will be alright.”

“Will she really?” Elizabeth murmured still observing the van disappearing beside the trees.

“What do you mean?”

“Sorry, I'm just thinking out loud...”

He leaned closer and whispered, “He likes her.”

Of course, he knows. It shouldn’t surprise her. Besides, Briar and Edmund were not discreet or concerned in hiding their mutual interest this weekend.

“It’s easy to recognize the look on the face of a man in love...” 

“Love?” Elizabeth echoed with a grimace, her eyes darting to his face. “They've seen each other a handful of times!”

“Don’t give me that look!” He chuckled and one of his fingers gently tapped the tip of her nose. Her nose and eyes scrunched, and she made one of the adorable faces he never gets tired.

“There’s no rule. Some people need time, others simply know...”

“Oh, please! It’s not always about love,” she protested, knowing that there are several other feelings that could be involved.

His shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let them drop with a wistful smile. “What can I say, canım benim[1]? I’m a romantic.”

“You and Briar are the same,” she snorted, “Throwing the L-word around… saying people who barely know each other are in love…” 

“Who else Briar thinks is in love and barely know each other?”

She gasped, “I never said that!”

Turning around, Elizabeth fished her mobile inside her pocket and pretended to read some “urgent notification”, like she told him, staring at the screen for a long moment until the faint smell of the first drops quenching the soil somewhere near the horizon reached her nostrils and reminded her of the incoming rainstorm.

A quarter after 3pm, the five horses and the four riders arrived safe and dry at the stables. The animals were left at the care of Mr. Walton and his industrious hands, and the four friends walked out cheering but were beaten by the storm in their race back to the manor.

The wind slammed a door, threatened to flip inside out the umbrellas Elizabeth and Luke carried and roused the crowns of trees at the main pathway, inviting them to an eerie dance.

The grey skies tumbled, afternoon turning into night. Cascading cold water washed over and the temperature dropped several degrees, or so it felt after every gush of wind.

The cold, however, didn’t deter the two who declined the umbrellas offered. Laughing and kicking and splashing the water running like a river at their feet, tilting their faces up and sticking their tongues out, they welcomed the drops as the most precious gift of nature.

Elizabeth will never question the benefits of rain. However, given the option she’ll always pick warm sunny days over rainy ones whenever she’s outside and the umbrella cannot protect her against the lashing cold drops.

The longer they stay outside, the more her pants got drenched and her lips quivered; fortunately, the terrace’s steps came to view. Just a few more metres. When she got to dry land with Luke, she dared looking back at the others.

In the pouring rain, arms stretched to the fullest, Hamid and Annabelle held each other’s hands swirling and laughing like it was the first time they were seeing rain.

Her ponytail was stuck to the neck, while locks of his black hair were glued to the forehead and sides of his face.

“I can’t remember the last time I played in the rain!” Annabelle cried, speaking louder than the pitter-patter of the rain against the roof, when they came running to the terrace laughing.

Elizabeth cannot remember either. The last she voluntarily stayed outside in the rain must have been when she was a kid and definitely before her mother got sick. After that, she became increasingly cautious about her own health: eating fruits and vegetables, taking vitamins, avoiding rain and dangerous activities and, most important, she’d do everything possible not to get sick, because she couldn’t afford being unwell and burden her mother. Later, whenever her mother’s health decreased and she needed to be cared, Elizabeth couldn’t bare the idea of doing something stupid and selfish and letting her down... That was the main reason she rarely travelled by herself for longer than a few days; or why she avoided drinking entirely. Except for that one time at seventeen when the prognostic was bad and her mother stayed over a month at the hospital, and she got so utterly sloshed with cheap wine with her friend Renata, she barely remembers anything that happened that weekend and how they came back home from the clubs; even the hangover that lasted an entire day and caused her to miss school at Monday was welcomed. It was good to feel something other than despondent for a change, even if it were the queasiness in her stomach and the obnoxious headache that pounded like a tambourine inside of her head.

Hamid asked something, interrupting her thoughts.

Her brain barely processed the question, and she looked at his eyes closer than anticipated, trying to find out if she missed a long bit of a conversation. Luke and Annabelle were not around anymore.

How long was she silently staring at the rain?

“Are you alright?” The neutral tone didn’t match the concern in his eyes.

How long was she silently staring at the rain?

“Just cold.” To be more convincing, she hugged herself tighter to keep warm, and a tight-lipped smile curled the corners of her lips without reaching her eyes.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? The rain makes everything more poetic.”

“Does it?” she asked. “I can think of a million ways the rain makes everything worse: traffic gets slower, drives us out of the beach during summer, turns everything sad and grey and wet and cold… and makes people sick. And I have a tight schedule. I can’t get sick! So, no, I don’t think it’s poetic.”

“Again, you are being too pragmatic.”

“Or are you being too much of a romantic?”

“I can’t deny that.”

A bright smile in his face, he leaned closer, making sure the wet coat hanging from his arm didn’t drip all over her. Despite the coat being impermeable, the rain had seeped through the collar and darkened his blue jumper, and her eyes followed the droplets still dripping from his hair, running down his face and soaking the fabric.

“But what about how beautiful the world looks? The way puddles reflect the light and façades of buildings? Or the thrill of dancing in the rain?”

“Dancing?” She shook her head. “It only works in movies...”

Slinging his arm over Elizabeth’s shoulders, droplets of water from his hair dripped and ran down his face and peppered her jacket. Too close to her ear, Hamid said, “If you’d give it a try, it’d change your mind. It’s the kind of refreshing experience that reminds how amazing it is to be alive! I’ll happily join you if you wish to try...”

“You know what would truly make me feel amazing right now?” she asked looking up at his face and meeting his eyes.

“Please do tell,” he purred, “especially if it’s something I can provide.”

“Dry clothes and warm chocolate.”

Briar returned from the hospital in time to have one mug of hot chocolate before the two-thermos bottles were completely emptied. A minor injury that resulted in zero broken bones, she told them, but ruined her plans to go out tonight.

“The bad news is I can’t go out with you, guys tonight…” she lamented, “It’s so unfair! I brought the cutest costume to wear tonight.”

To make her feel better, Edmund was catering to her every need, which included an icebag for her ankle, pain medication, a raspberry scone, and the first volume of the published journals of Countess Clara.

“We should stay in, anyway,” Annabelle suggested, “Anything we would do there, we can do here.”

“And in better company,” Hamid added with a charming smile.

While Elizabeth, Annabelle, Hamid, and Luke played another round of Just Dance, Briar had skipped most of the entries of the journal and went straight to the ones about the duel. Reading the most interesting parts aloud, she often stole the competitors' concentration... and was influencing the scores – whether it was on purpose or not, one could only suppose.

“Oh, my God!” Briar gasped. “This is sooo good!”

When nobody asked a follow-up question, she teased some more in a louder sing-a-song voice.

“I know why Lady Clara was so fond of the ruins!”

“You got to that part?” Edmund asked without raising his eyes, too focused on the task of rubbing anti-inflammatory gel on her injured foot.

“Which part?” Elizabeth asked, missing precious points while Hamid nailed all the moves.

“The saucy part!” Briar giggled. “The prince was smooth! Using that last night on earth line on her… Girl dropped her panties like that!” Briar snapped her fingers, then flipped a page. “Listen to this: ‘The moonlight illuminated Hamid’s features while he slowly removed his cape, then his kaftan. My gaze devoured every bit of skin uncovered, and my hand ached to touch him…’ Is it hot in here?” She fanned herself dramatically and Edmund handed her a glass of water.

The game couldn’t compete with the curiosity stirred by the descriptive details of the prince’s physique that followed and after forty-five minutes of uninterrupted dance, some of the players needed a break.

“That lady got dicked down good!” Briar let Hamid read over her shoulder the next paragraphs. “Outdoors pre-marital sex with a hot guy she was not engaged to in 1816: lady was living the life! I stan!”

When she finished reading the parts aloud, Luke, who had plopped in an armchair closer to the windows and observed the rain, asked, “Can we play something else?”

“Why?” Hamid asked. “This is so fun!”

“Only because you don’t suck at it...” Annabelle teased, nudging his side.

“Don’t come at me if you can’t keep up with my moves,” he retorted pulling an intricate combination of steps, she rolled her eyes and they laughed good-naturedly.

“I could use a break...” Elizabeth admitted taking a seat.

“Maybe another round of CoD?” Edmund suggested, and Briar looked puzzled.

“Call of Duty? The combat game?”

“Yes, please,” Briar said, “I don’t know how to play, but I want to kill zombies too!”

“Of course, darling. Hamid can sit this one out, he sucks anyway!”

“Hey,” Hamid protested. “I’m a pacifist. I don’t see the point on blowing anyone’s head off…”

“They’re zombies! Stop making poor excuses,” Annabelle teased.

“Why don’t we play the real zombie game!” Elizabeth said already fumbling inside the box. “Wake the Dead is so good! In the multiplayer we can kill all sorts of zombies.”

While they were preparing for the next game, Annabelle excused herself to go to the lavatory, and Elizabeth heard voices in the corridor.

“Did you hear that?”

“I didn’t hear a thing...” Luke shrugged, while texting.

“It sounded like Theresa’s laugh.”

“Very funny,” Edmund retorted, throwing his stepsister a dirty look.

“I’m not joking.”

“There’s someone outside,” Hamid said, and as if on cue, Theresa’s nasal voice was unmistakable heard through the walls. Instantly, Briar pulled her legs and Edmund bolted upright from his spot on the sofa.

“What’s she doing here?” he asked in a low tone, while rubbing his menthol-scented hands against his trousers, and Elizabeth shrugged.

“Your fiancee, dude... If anybody should know...”

Muttered a string of swearing under his breath, Edmund picked his mobile from a side table and there were seven missed calls from Theresa and an even larger number of messages that he ignored the entire day.

“Bullocks.”

An employee brought a tray with refreshments and announced Theresa’s arrival. The woman could no longer be ignored.

She politely greeted everyone with air kisses.

“Are you happy I came, Edmund?” Theresa asked with a wide smile. Edmund’s eyes squinted when she kissed the corner of his mouth, leaving a lipstick mark that she wiped with her thumb. “Your mother said you would!”

“Did she?”

“Oh! She did! She said: ‘Theresa, go to Edgewater immediately.’” She tried to mimic the countess’ voice, but it was just a lower-pitched version of her own voice. “I asked why and she said ‘because Edmund needs you by his side’ but I said I was busy with Felicity and I was going to do my hair... but she insisted, 'Pack your things now or don’t even bother coming anymore!’ The Countess is funny, I think. But I don’t get her humour sometimes…” She shook her head and grinned at the group. “What are you doing?”

“Playing video-games,” Elizabeth said lifting the controller in her hand. “Do you want to play?”

Clapping her hands, she squealed, “Yes! I do! Edmund never lets me play... Can I?” She looked at him pleadingly and he sighed. Before he could give up his controller, Elizabeth offered hers.

“Here, Theresa. You can play, I'll sit this one out.”

“That’s so kind of you, Elizabeth. Thank you.”

“You’re letting him play with his fiancé and Briar?” Hamid whispered, looking at the women sitting at both of his sides. “You’re devious.”

“I’m not!” She elbowed him. “And I’m not responsible for this situation…”

“It’ll be interesting to watch how it unfolds…”

“Indeed.” Annabelle slung her arms around Hamid and Elizabeth’s shoulders. “And you know what could make it even more interesting?” she asked, but it was simply rhetoric. “Drinking games!”

“I love drinking games!” Theresa and Briar cheered from their places at the sofa, and Annabelle couldn’t be more pleased with herself.

“Correction,” Hamid glanced at her with a sly smile, “you’re the devious one.”

----------------------------------------------

Notes:

[1] canım benim – Turkish expression equivalent to “my dear/my darling” and meaning literally “my soul”.

[sapphoschoices]

Penny for the Guy

Book: Desire & Decorum

Characters: Bridgette Lawrence-Foredale (D&D MC), Annabelle Parsons, Briar Daly, Edmund Marlcaster, Theresa Sutton, Harry Fordale

Relationship: D&D MC x Annabelle Parsons (minor) Briar Daly x Edmund Marlcaster, Theresa Sutton x Harry Fordale

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 840

Summary: Bridgette and her family share a bonfire night in her hometown

“Penny for the Guy!” Little John O’Malley called out across the Grovershire town square. He and Lydia were working together to push around the wheelbarrow carrying the rather crude looking Guy Fawkes effigy.

“That was us once upon a time.” Briar sighed wistfully beside Bridgette. “Simpler times."

Bridgette rolled her eyes with a smile and bumped her shoulder against Briar. “That was you. I found the whole thing silly.”

“You liar, you.” Scoffed Briar. “I distinctly remember you begging your mama to help you finish sewing our Guy when we were ten years old. Even after the late Mrs O’Malley had closed the shop.”

“Ah, but I never humiliated myself by strolling around town begging for pennies.”

“No, you just recited your favourite Shakespeare passages for the entire county to hear.” Briar retorted, just as Annabelle, Edmund, Harry and Theresa rounded the corner together.

“I'm sure that was the largest bonfire I've ever seen.” Viscountess Theresa squealed, gripping onto Harry's arm as the pair walked perfectly in step together.

“As fun as the festivities are, I do believe that little Bridgette may find that effigy rather disturbing.” Edmund shifted towards his wife, pointing at their young daughter across the village square, being watched by a Mrs Daly and jumping to peer through any window she could find, showing no signs of discomfort, much less fear.

“I wonder if our little one will be quite so curious.” Harry leant against his cane and looked lovingly at Theresa. Bridgette found it rather endearing just how much married life had clouded her younger brother's judgement, somehow managing to see the mischievous nosiness of their niece, as innocent curiosity.

“My daughter is not curious, she is nosy.” Briar corrected, shaking her head, and leaving to fetch the little girl.

“Oh yes, I do wonder where she got that from.” Bridgette rolled her eyes with fondness. “The fireworks won't be long now. Edmund, I would take Briar and your daughter to the far hill, the loud noises may disturb little Bridgette, but you should still get a good view.”

Briar returned then with her daughter in her arms. Bridgette was a small child, like her namesake, the Countess, had been. She also shared a similar wildness to the one the Countess had in her own youth.

“Where will you be going, Countess Bridgette?” Viscountess Theresa

“I have set up a surprise for my dearest.”

“Oh, I had no idea Mr Chambers was here!” She bounced on her feet excitedly, and shook Harry's arm. “Did you know, Harry?”

“Perhaps we too should join the crowd to see the fireworks?” Like an angel, Bridgette thought, Harry tactfully redirected his wife's question and took her to join the other happy people in the fields in preparation.

The Marlcasters also departed, heading for the hill Bridgette had recommended to them, on the far side of the village to avoid little Bridgette being spooked by the loud noises of the fireworks.

“What is your surprise which you have kept so secret, then?” Annabelle nudged Bridgette, finally left alone.

“You mean my surprise for my dear husband?” Bridgette joked, linking arms with Annabelle and leading her down the path towards a familiar place. “You will just have to wait and see, come along.”

It was only a short walk to the quaint little barn where the couple had spent a short evening together. It was a sweet memory the two shared during a time of horrible uncertainty.

“Oh, the barn. I fondly remember the time we spent here.” Annabelle admitted the moment that old barn entered her field of vision.

“Well, your surprise is not finished yet though. I have a treat waiting for you up in the hayloft.” Bridgette led Annabelle up the rickety ladder for the second time,

Annabelle gasped sweetly as she popped her head over the top of the hayloft. “Oh it's a beautiful little feast!”

Bridgette had laid a wide spread of various foods. There was toffee, fruits, biscuits and a pair of steaming mugs. “The toffee is from Yorkshire,” Bridgette enthusiastically explained. “And this is hot chocolate. I have never had it before, myself, though I'm sure you have. I wanted to give you some strawberries, too, but they are no longer in season.”

“It is perfect, my dear.” Annabelle pulled Bridgette to lean against her, pressing their heads together.

“Oh!” Bridgette jumped away from Annabelle. “We should even have a beautiful view of the fireworks, from here.” She jumped up, grabbing Annabelle's hand in the process, dragging her to her feet and towards a rotted gap in the barn's wooden walls.

Through the hole was a beautifully unobstructed view of the endless starry night sky. After a few minutes of waiting, and a few sneaky kisses, the pair of lovers were startled by the sudden banging noise of the first few fireworks.

After a brief moment of shock and giggles, the two settled back into each other's comfortable company, leaning against one another, watching the bright fireworks steadily littering the open sky long into the evening.

Tags: @choicesficwriterscreations @rosesnink

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC FotW - March 19 - 25, 2023

18+ = Adult/Mature Content 🔥 = Explicit Material/NSFW

BLADES OF LIGHT AND SHADOW

Buried Memories | Tyril Starfury x f!elf!mc - @starlight-starfury 18+

DESIRE AND DECORUM

Life of a Spare | Edmund Marlcaster x Briar Daly - @noesapphic

The Tatletale's Mask | Theresa Sutton x Harry Foredale - @noesapphic

LAWS OF ATTRACTION

When Love Lasts Part 1 | Gabe Ricci x f!mc - @eadanga 

OPEN HEART

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

WAKE THE DEAD

A Capy Ending | Eli Sipes x F!MC, Troy Hassan - @jerzwriter

[i-beg-your-parsons]

my name is...

Relationship: Briar Daly/Theresa Sutton

Count: 2,033 words

Special thanks to @lesbian-choices, who brought this pairing to our attention back at the gaychoices discord. This one’s for you, wlws!

Tag: @jellymonster, @h-doodles, @deeohno, @lesbianvalgreaves, @samira-yazdi, @letmeloveasterplease, @wlwchoices, @al-servo, @badbitchkennarys, @davenportandbrandy, @dumbbrowngirl, @imissmaxwell, @sapphic-legends, @kaitlynliaoswife, @i-stan-shaylex-and-love-ame, @megowitch, @alanakusumaswife, @westchesters,

— 

Theresa Sutton sat alone on the steps of the banquet hall leading to the garden outside Karlington estate. Her lemon yellow dress had hiked up to her calves (which would be extremely scandalous in normal circumstances), but at the moment, she found that she couldn’t care less — not when Mr. Marlcaster, her (ex) fiancé, had just called off their engagement.

A particularly unladylike groan escapes from her throat. And he did it in public, no less!

So give her a bloody moment’s rest if she wanted to wallow by herself in a rumpled, distasteful state in a corner at one of the most prominent social functions of the season. She was really, really tired.

It was about the beginning of May; the weather was getting warmer, but it was still too cold for her taste. She absently stared at the moonlight reflecting on the rippling water of the ornate fountain in the middle of the space. Crickets, owls, and other nocturnal animals could be heard in the distance, just having another typical evening.

A cold breeze blows. It sapped the warmth from her skin and prompted a quiet sneeze from the miserable woman. Theresa was so glad she decided to wear gloves today. She curled herself up into a ball, hugging her legs close to her chest and resting her forehead on her knees.

There was something comforting about the cold when you were sad. Theresa liked to think it was Mother Nature’s way of saying that she sympathised with her situation.

At least then she wouldn’t feel so alone.

“Miss Sutton?”

She jumps in response to her name, hastily wiping away her tears in hopes of looking a little less dreadful than she knew she definitely looked. 

“O-oh yes! What can I do for you —”

Theresa cranes her head towards the direction of the voice coming up the steps, leading back inside to the festivities.

“ — Miss Daly?” She couldn’t help but say in confusion as she scrunched her eyebrows together. What was she doing here?

“Miss Sutton,” Briar answers in return with a nod. She offered the lady a tentative smile, taking note of Miss Sutton’s current state. “I, uhm, saw you from the refreshments table,” Briar nervously smiled, carrying a glass of water. She looked hesitant, idling at the top of the stairs.

“Would you… like some company? And some water, perhaps?”

“Oh,” Theresa blinked, already feeling the tears start to burn at the back of her eyelids. Of course Miss Daly was nice and kind and thoughtful.

Briar looked even more worried and decided to jump the gun. She descended from the top of the stairs to even lower from where Miss Sutton was sitting down, so that they were facing each other as she stood. She offers the cup of water, and Miss Sutton accepts it with a nod.

“Thank you, I suppose I was feeling rather parched,” Theresa quietly murmurs before daintily sipping from the cup. She offers the maid a grateful smile. “You’re very considerate, Miss Daly.”

“Just Briar’s fine. Miss Daly is my mother,” Briar sheepishly grins, fiddling with the end of her sleeve. “And I’m glad to see it helped.”

Briar settles down just by Miss Sutton’s feet. Her arm brushes by the yellow fabric of her skirt. They were close enough such that Theresa could feel the light heat of Miss Daly’s back slowly waft towards her, and gently brush the surface of her skin.

(It felt… nice, which was odd, considering their current relationship.)

The two sit in silence, digesting the reality of the situation: There they were, two women who were acquainted only because of their connection to a man — Edmund Marlcaster.

If it were anyone else, Theresa might have enjoyed the drama.

“I have to tell you that I didn’t mean to flirt with Mr. Marlcaster,” Briar starts. It was hesitant, sure, and definitely apologetic. Theresa could feel the sincerity coming off her with each word.

Miss Sutton raises a playful (and maybe slightly sarcastic) eyebrow. She could feel the corner of her lip quirk, “And how might one accidentally flirt with a man?”

The fabric of Briar’s sleeves aggressively flopped as she frantically waved her hands in denial (and surrender). “No, nothing like that! I meant that I didn’t return his advances for the purpose of ruining your engagement.”

“Yes…?” Theresa blinks, trying to process the information. What was happening, exactly?

Briar sighs, deciding that she couldn’t avoid telling Miss Sutton about her life back at their quiet village. “At Grovershire, I was very much a ‘one of the boys’ type. I was always loud and restless, so I liked to run around town during my morning errands. I’d come back with bread and vegetables, but also mud stains on the hem of my skirts…”

“Sometimes, even on my face,” Briar shot a wink at Miss Sutton, which made the lady laugh. 

The maid grins inwardly in satisfaction. “I would often climb up one of the trees at the edge of town and read a book I nicked from my father’s study. And I’d break my way into my mother’s alcohol stash routinely.” She pauses for a moment, before continuing, “So I suppose they didn’t see me as a woman. It was part of the reason I came with Clara to Edgewater.”

Her eyes suddenly widen at the information she just divulged to the loose-lipped noblewoman, “Oh! Please don’t tell her though! I’d hate to worry her more than I have to.”

Miss Sutton solemnly nods, and though Clara would be wary of her, Briar felt that she really wouldn’t speak of it.

So, she continues.

“I didn’t think that I would ever get married. So I thought, why not stay with my best friend, who was now without her mother, and suddenly thrust into the cutthroat world of nobles?”

Briar took a deep breath before speaking again. 

(This was where it was going to hurt.)

“I think that… I got swept away by the feeling of a man taking a liking to me. I suppose it made me feel like I’d succeeded as a woman.”

And then, everything was still. 

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. Briar was keen on avoiding meeting with Miss Sutton’s eyes for as long as she could keep it up.

That was, before the lady gently clasped both of her hands around one of Briar’s. Her expression was filled with nothing but understanding and… was camaraderie the right word for it? 

Briar couldn’t really think.

“You needn’t worry. I doubt our theoretical marriage would have lasted, anyway,” Theresa resigned. She’d known at the exact moment Countess Henrietta accepted her proposal for her son. 

Absently, she played with Briar’s calloused fingers that were still in her grasp. “I suppose, much like you, I was too thrilled at the prospect of finally having a man that accepted me.”

She tightens her grip, with her lips pursed in a tight line, “Or more accurately, my marriage proposal.”

Studying the other woman, Miss Sutton could see that aside from being kind and sweet, Briar Daly was also very pretty. Dark and full eyebrows, expressive eyes, a dashing side-profile, and long black hair (currently wrapped into a tight bun) — which was so thick and full that some strands couldn’t help but stray to the Indian woman’s face.

Theresa didn’t know what came over her, but she reached out a hand to play with a lock resting limply against Briar’s neck.

“I can see why Mr. Marlcaster took a liking to you.”

Briar, who was spaced out at the feeling of Miss Sutton’s soft fingers pressing on her own, had regained enough conscious thought to blush, “Oh… uhm… well, I don’t know about that. I think he only took a liking to me because you two were so incompatible with each other.”

Theresa couldn’t help but be amused at the woman’s bluntness. She places a hand on her chest, pretending to have been shot with an arrow, theatrically wincing, “My word, Briar! You wound me.”

Briar chuckled, pleased to see that Miss Sutton was now relaxed enough to even joke with her. “It’s clearly Mr. Marlcaster’s loss anyway! He would be surprised to find that you’re actually very charming, if he was smart enough to look past your extreme penchant for gossip,” she affectionately teases Theresa.

The noblewoman blushes prettily with a grin, lightly hitting Briar’s arm with her fan. “Hush, you. Parties are dreadfully boring without gossip, because all that everyone talks about is politics, this new exotic thing they bought, or who’s now signalling their fan at who.” 

For a heartbeat, they simply sit in each other’s company.

Before Miss Sutton stands up and briskly pats off any dirt on her skirts. She immediately answers the look Briar just shot at her. 

(She somewhat resembled a domestic fox that just had food taken from her.)

“I should be getting back in and at least try to pique some random bachelor’s interest. Father’s already going to be disappointed with me once I head home tonight. Might as well have something in consolation.”

Miss Sutton seriously studies Briar’s face for a moment, seemingly searching for something, (Briar anxiously hoped she had whatever she was looking for), before Theresa places a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you, Briar.”

It was practically nothing at all: a quick touch of skin and lips and no more.

But to Briar, in that moment, that peck on the cheek from Theresa Sutton felt like everything.

“Puffy!” 

Briar manages to choke out from her stupor, gently grasping Miss Sutton’s gloved wrist. Theresa’s confusion was evident, “Pardon?”

Briar could feel her cheeks burning from her sudden outburst, “Uhm, your eyes are still a bit puffy.”

Theresa’s eyes widened, prompting her to bring her hands to her cheeks in embarrassment. “Oh, well… I suppose I’ll have to wait out here for it to subside before heading back in. It would be most unbecoming,” Miss Sutton chuckles weakly, trying to joke away the stuffiness. She stood lightly slouched and slack, with an evident air of resignation about her.

“I very much need to salvage as much dignity as I have left.”

“Well, you could do that…” Briar trails off, looking away from the lady. The handmaiden was clearly unsure of her next words. Miss Sutton keeps her gaze trained on Briar, waiting patiently for her to finish. Their eyes meet when Briar glances back at her, blushing harder and dropping her eyes to her shoes. 

Briar slowly slides her hold down from Miss Sutton’s wrist, gently grasping the lady’s fingertips, much like a gentleman would before he kissed them in proper greeting.

“…Or you could take a walk in the gardens. With me. If you like.”

Briar could feel Miss Sutton’s eyes widen.

(In surprise? In disgust? In delight? —

Briar found that she was afraid to know.)

“T-The Duke’s a rotten man!” Briar adds quickly, and she isn’t sure why. 

“But he has a beautiful garden.”

She rocks back and forth on her heels, to expel some of the developing tension in her body.

“So, uhm… how about it?

Miss Sutton takes a few moments to answer her, keenly staring at Briar’s flustered form, like she was attempting to search for her true intentions within them.

(And she found that she did. 

At least, she hoped so.)

Theresa smiles, and manoeuvres her hand — still in Briar’s grasp — down to gently hold on to Briar’s bicep.

“I accept.”

Briar lights up; her eyes sparkled with elation. Almost too excited, she starts to pull them to the direction of the greenery, almost making them stumble. “All right then, let’s go, Miss Sutton! I haven’t been here before so there’s lots to see.”

The noblewoman smiles at her companion’s enthusiasm. “Please,” Miss Sutton brings her free hand to lightly rest on Briar’s shoulder. The touch effectively stilled Briar, making their gazes connect.

It felt warm, despite the cold of the evening. 

“Call me Tessa,” she smiles radiantly under the moonlight.

—

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, but why are you wearing a staff uniform?”

“… It was the only way I could get in.”

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Traditions Way Too Old

Author's note: Alright, enough fluff. Time to thicken the plot 😏 Rating this piece as mature because there are some sensitive subjects implied, but nothing much.[Leading characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios and original characters are creations of the author] Book: Desire & Decorum (modern day AU) Characters/Pairings: Prince Hamid x MC (Daphne), Edmund Marlcaster x Briar Daly, Edmund Marlcaster x Theresa Sutton Rating: M Word count: 4142 Reading time: ~17min Summary: During meals with her family, peace is never an option for Daphne.

A rock song played inside the viscountess's suite, blocking any noise from the outside world. With her pug nested on her lap, she added the finishing touches of her makeup, moved her head from one side to another, scrutinizing her handiwork, and smiled. At uni, she rarely had spare time to sit down and leisurely use artistic skills on her face. And even if she can't do anything over the top for her family's Christmas lunch, it still felt nice to add a little glow and color to her look.

As she began to brush her hair, her eyes landed on the locket inside its necklace box. For a moment, she wondered how he was, if he was following his doctor's orders,  if he missed her. Then, she picked up the necklace and put it on.

"Daphne?" Lord Vincent called after knocking on the door.

"Come in, Dad."

The earl opened the door, stepped into the room, and smiled. "It's good to see you're ready for lunch, my dear."

"Almost. I'm still deciding which accessories to wear."

"I see you already picked one. Is it new?"

"Yes, it's a Christmas gift from Hamid. And look." She opened the locket and lifted it for her father to see.

As he approached his daughter to look closer, his eyes softened at the picture inside it. "Is that a replica of your painting?"

"Mmmhmm." She beamed.

"How thoughtful of him. It's a wonderful gift."

"I agree."

"Is the other one a silhouette of his profile?"

"Indeed it is."

"Hmm…" He smirked.

"What?"

"It's just an idea that came to me. We can talk about that another time. I'll be waiting for you downstairs."

"Okay."

"I know you're making up the time you were away with Drake, but I'm afraid you must avoid bringing him downstairs this afternoon."

"Why?" She eyed her father confused, placing a hand over her dog protectively.

"You know how a few of our guests feel about dogs, my dear."

Daphne twisted her lips in a scowl.

The earl placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I agree with your resentment, but you understand that, as a politician, I must make a few compromises sometimes."

"Yeah, I do…" She sighed. "It's okay. I'll take the backdoor exit later when I leave with him for a walk."

"Thank you. Don't worry about him. I asked Pavarti's newest employee to prepare something special for him."

"I haven't met her, but Mrs. Daly spoke very highly of her. Is she still here?"

"Yes. She took your suggestion to prepare a croquembouche."

"That's a first. I can't believe the countess approved a suggestion of mine."

"It wasn't her. Mother did. She said it's an excellent choice, very festive."

"Oh…" Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

Lord Vincent glanced at his watch. "It'd be my pleasure to spend the afternoon talking to you, my darling, but our guests will arrive any minute now."

"It's alright, dad. I understand. I'll see you downstairs."

The earl touched the doorknob when he looked back at his daughter looking through her jewellery. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Always.”

“Mary’s diamond earrings will go really well with your new necklace.”

Daphne analysed the earrings and lifted one to her ear. “We have a winner. I didn’t know you had such a good eye for jewellery, my lord.” She grinned, putting on the accessories.

“I have my moments.” He beamed then kissed the top of her head. "Don't take too long."

"Okay."

Daphne watched her father walk away and looked at her dog, running a hand along his body. "Sorry, buddy… You'll have to stay here. But at least you get to avoid snob people and you'll have great food."

The pug barely reacted, his eyes fluttering shut as his owner continued to scratch his short fur. Once he fell asleep, Daphne put him down on his bed and left the room.

"Hey, stranger." A male voice called from the foyer as she climbed down the stairs.

"Harry!" Daphne rushed down the stairs and pulled her younger brother to a hug. "I missed you."

"Did you? When father told us you weren't going to join us last night, I was almost certain you wouldn't even come back. You'd simply ask somebody to send all of your things to Türkiye ."

"How dramatic..." She nudged him playfully. "I was just worried about Hamid and I needed to see him."

"Is he okay?"

"Yes. Everything points to full recovery in six months."

"Or less if he follows his doctor's orders."

"Oh, I know. That's why I said six."

The siblings chuckled.

"Oh, great. You're here. Again." Theresa's unmistakably brashy voice echoed in the foyer as she walked in, arms intertwined with Edmund's, who threw his fiancee a side glance.

"What? She's never here. Good afternoon, Harry," she greeted him with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Theresa," Harry replied. "She is right, though," he teased.

"Well, unlike some people who seem to be here all the time and think of higher education as if it's an accessory, I actually attend classes at Cornell because I intend to pursue a career in the future."

"Daph, please. It's Christmas…" Edmund pleaded.

"Fine..." Her scowl quickly dissolved into a smile as she approached her stepbrother. "Is everything ready for our movie marathon?"

"The popcorn will be ready when you come back from the soup kitchen."

The viscountess beamed.

"Welcome back, Daphne. Merry Christmas!" Edmund said.

"Thank you. Merry Christmas, Edmund!" Daphne rose on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

As she pulled away, he nodded with his head towards Theresa. The lady pursed her lips, but as he gave her a pleading look, she rolled eyes but caved, forcing a smile to her stepbrother's fiancee. "Merry Christmas, Theresa."

"Likewise," Theresa replied icily.

Noticing the ladies sizing each other, Harry intertwined his arm with his sister's. "Well, that was entertaining, but I see a bottle of Chardonnay with my name on it from here."

"We'll greet the guests. See you two at the table?" Edmund said.

The siblings nodded to one another and quickly made their way in opposite directions.

"When are you both going to let this go? Briar and Ed ended things months ago," Harry questioned.

"It's not just about that."

"Sis, you know I always support you, but if this is about school days grudge again, I swear to Baby Jesus—"

"Champagne?" A waiter offered as he passed by.

"Yes, thank you." Daphne picked up a glass.

"It's about that other subject, isn't it?" He looked at his step-sister in worry as she took a sip of her beverage.

"Can we not talk about this here?"

"You always say that. Then you keep avoiding it until in any way you can and I need to know why."

"Harry, don't. I'm not ready to talk about it yet."

Despite the frown on his face, Daphne was resolute about the matter. Her family had been through a lot since then. It wasn't her place to create tension between her half-brother and stepmother, even though the latter didn't deserve such kindness. As uncomfortable silence settled between them, the two of them parted ways.

The lady then strolled into the kitchen, where a dark-skinned woman not much older than her added spin sugar decorations to the tower of perfectly arranged éclairs while the rest of the staff worked on the plating of the appetizers.

"Whoa…" Daphne blurted.

The woman's head snapped up. "Um… may I help you, miss?"

"Don't mind me. I just like to see when chefs prepare food. Culinary is a fascinating field."

The woman smiled as she looked down to add the finishing touches on the tower of éclairs. "I agree. Are you a culinary connoisseur?"

"Not at all. I just like artistic things and eating."

The woman giggled, but then realization dawned on her face. "Oh, are you Lady Daphne Foredale?"

Daphne fought back a grimace at hearing someone her say her title out loud and smiled politely. "Yes, but just Daphne is fine. You're working with Mrs. Daly, right?"

"Yes." The lady removed the plastic glove from one hand and extended it for a handshake. "Alisha Hastings."

"It's really nice to meet you, Miss Hastings," she said, replying to the handshake. "Thank you for filling in for Mrs. Daly. Everything here looks amazing."

"It's my pleasure to meet you and work here. And please, just Alisha. I'm glad you suggested croquembouche for dessert. It gives me a chance to get a little creative."

"No problem. It'll be a fantastic change of pace from fruitcake and spotted dick. Besides, I won't have to look away or be afraid to spit out wine when everyone starts complimenting the dish with 'oooh, this spotted dick is so soft!'"

Alisha pressed a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes to stop herself from laughing. The rest of the staff mimicked the cook's gesture.

"I'm sorry. That was so childish. I'm distracting you, aren’t I?” Daphne grimaced. “I just stopped by to meet you and thank you. Especially for preparing a treat for my dog."

"It's no trouble. I think it's unfair that he can't walk around in his own home because some people don’t like dogs."

"Me too. But it wasn't your job to make something for him. So thank you. I promise I'll get out of your hair now."

Alisha grinned. "You're welcome. You should probably go to the dining room. We'll start serving the appetizers soon."

"Oh, okay. It was nice to meet you."

"Nice meeting you too." But the lady stepped away, Alisha called. "Hey, are you helping at the soup kitchen later today?"

"Yes. I'll just have lunch and wait until I can leave."

"Good. I'll see you there."

"Oh, you're going too? If you want, we can go together. The driver will take us both there."

"I don't want to impose…"

"You're not. Once you're done here, just let me know. We're both going to the same place and you're helping the homeless at Christmas after work. The least I can do is offer a ride."

"Thank you, ma'am…" Alisha shook her head when the lady cocked an eyebrow at her. "Uh, sorry… Thank you, Daphne."

"You're welcome. I'll see you later."

As the feast was served, Lady Dominique conducted the guests among different topics of conversation as usual. Less chatty than most people at the table, Daphne simply ate and occasionally smiled whilst her brothers and friends engaged in random topics of discussion.

"Are you okay, Daph?" Annabelle asked.

"I'm fine."

"Missing Istanbul already, sis?" Harry teased.

"We won't judge. I spent one morning there and I miss it," Bartholomew added.

"Is it really what you're missing, Bartie?" Annabelle smirked.

Bartholomew replied with a secretive smile that raised chuckles among the young friends.

"I don't see what could be so interesting about Turkey. Isn't it a mussie country?" Theresa inquired, only to earn glares from Daphne, Annabelle, and Bartholomew.

"First of all, Türkiye is a secular state. And second, for the love of God, don't ever repeat that word again," Edmund berated, attracting the attention of the other guests and a glower from his mother.

Theresa threw him a side glance.

"How can you say that, Theresa? Istanbul is a city between two distinct continents. Do you have any  idea of how much of human history that country holds?" Annabelle inquired.

"Christianity and many of the saints we look up to were born there," Lady Dominique spoke up.

"You're both right," Lord Vincent acknowledged.

"Istanbul is the largest city in Europe. Its history, the many cultures living there, Hagia Sofia, Blue Mosque, Bosphorus bridge..." Ernest added.

"I heard you drew the Bosphorus bridge, Daphne. You have to show me your sketch," Annabelle enthused.

"I did." Daphne smiled coyly at the memory of showing her drawings to her boyfriend. "It still has a lot of work to do on it, but I'll welcome any of your suggestions."

"It's good to see you've been improving one of your skills, Daphne," Lady Dominique said.

The viscountess's eyes darted to her grandmother. They haven't spoken to each other since their argument. She wasn't mad anymore, yet she didn't expect the headstrong dowager countess to be the one who would take the first step to make amends.

"Thank you, lady grandmother. I always take some time to improve myself. It'll be crucial for my career."

"Sure, if you call street art a career path…" Theresa sniggered.

"Careful, dearest Theresa. It isn't kind of you to belittle the work of people less fortunate than us in a day like this. After all, being a socialite and trophy wife is a title only relevant to those who are too dense to read anything other than tabloids." A corner of Daphne's mouth lifted.

Among disapproving looks and giggles suppressed, Viscount Lochdale doubled over. "Your honesty is refreshing, Lady Daphne. You've been missed on social gatherings."

"Yes, the parties are lacking some scandal." Theresa sneered.

"Of course you would notice that instead of being on campus to attend classes," Daphne retorted.

"Well, I believe you're right to pursue higher education. We live in modern times after all. Women should have a career of their own. I'm proud Felicity is doing the same," he said, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"Thank you, father." A smug smile crept on Felicity's lips, who had been talking only to the elders and her boyfriend until then. "I joined a study group about the concept of behaviourism and operant conditioning. Those techniques can be so useful to financial companies." She hinted, looking between her father and boyfriend. Whilst the first grinned, the latter took a sip of a wine avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table.

"Using radical behaviourism theory on the working class does seem like something you would do," Daphne commented.

"A compliment from the future street artist?" Felicity mockingly gasped. "Why, thank you!"

"I never said it was a compliment," Daphne taunted.

"As if you are qualified to judge anyone after what you did…" Theresa mumbled, earning stern looks from the guests, with the exception of Felicity.

Rage burned on Daphne's eyes whilst Annabelle and Bartholomew gave her reassuring hand squeezes.

"I think on Christmas feasts like the one we're having now, we should concentrate our efforts on appreciating gifts and burdens the Lord gives us," Henrietta stated, much to the younger folks' surprise.

"Well said, my lady," Lord Vincent nodded, ceasing the discussion.

Clouds darkened Edgewater skyline when the viscountess walked by the lakeshore with her pug and her childhood friend. Helping at the soup kitchen was a nice way to distract herself from the disastrous Christmas feast. Yet, staying home when Theresa Sutton was there became as hard as it used to be six months ago.

"Ugh! I can't believe her! How dare she?!" Briar fumed.

"She obviously didn't learn anything with the lawsuit." The lady's tightened around her pug's leash.

"Of course not. This is why I told you the settlement wouldn't be enough. It wasn't even her money that paid for our apartment. It was her father's!"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure I can sue her for what she did earlier."

"That's so unfair!" Briar exclaimed.

"Tell me about it…" Daphne sighed. "Maybe I should talk to Arthur about that."

Briar stayed in silence.

"What? Aren’t you going to brag about how sexy his lawyer self is?" Daphne arched an eyebrow, to which her friend replied with a shrug. "Briar?"

"Mmm?"

"Are you alright?"

"Mmmhmm…" Briar replied, casting her glance down.

"Did something happen between you two?" Daphne looked at her friend from the corner of an eye.

"Between who?"

The lady pursed her lips.

"No. Nothing happened." The young woman sighed. "That's the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"Nevermind… you have a lot going on right now."

"But you're my best friend. If you're having a problem, I want to know and help even if all I can do is let you vent."

"I know…" Briar twisted a finger on one of her long locks of hair. "Let's take a seat first."

The two friends sat on the bench by the lake. The lady fished a few snacks from her bag and fed her dog whilst she waited for Briar to speak.

"I haven't heard from Arthur ever since he went to his grandparents' cottage two days before you went to Türkiye. And it started to upset me. You and Ann said it wasn't a big deal because he warned me the place has a terrible cell phone reception. But you know me…"

"You felt lonely."

Briar nodded. "Then yesterday, after I prepared everything we would need for today at the soup kitchen, Eddie showed up."

"Edmund?"

"Yeah… He came by to bring more toys for the kids. I thought it was odd, usually the driver brings this stuff. But he said Jonah was busy and brought the gifts himself."

"Why do I feel like there's more to this?" Daphne narrowed her eyes at her friend, who looked down at her hands. "Briar?"

"Do you remember those Louboutin pointe shoes I was saving money to buy?"

"Yes."

"He gave me a pair as a Christmas gift."

“Are you serious?” Daphne’s jaw slacked. “Those are made exclusively for celebrities like Dita Von Teese!”

"Of course I told him I couldn't accept it, but he insisted. I told him I didn't buy him a gift because we're not even friends anymore. He said it didn't matter. He just wanted me to know he was thinking about me."

"You had sex with him, didn't you?" The lady folded her arms.

"A little bit…"

Daphne pinched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, Briar…”

"I know what you're thinking, but I was lonely! And you've seen him with Theresa. They're the worst."

"He's engaged! And you're with someone else! Someone who cares about you!" The lady insisted.

"I know! But it felt so good, so right..." Briar frowned.

Daphne shook her head in disapproval.

"Do you think I should tell Arthur?"

"Yes!"

"But Daph…"

"He's going to see those shoes eventually," the lady pointed out.

"I could say they're knock-offs…"

"Seriously?" Daphne stared at her friend.

"You're right…" She whined. "Ugh… Why do I do this?"

Daphne pulled her friend close, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "You were lonely and upset to be away from him during the holiday. It happens."

"It never happened to you."

"We're different people living different situations."

"Yes. You're not in love with two guys..." Briar looked down and petted her friend's dog, whose head rested on her lap. "I should've done what you did: give yourself a break to heal before getting involved with someone new."

"You don't know how to be alone."

"I can learn!"

"Briar, it's okay if you need more time to get over Eddie. But you have to be honest with yourself and with Arthur about it. And maybe seek extra help?"

"Like therapy?"

"Yes. I didn't move on from a broken relationship, hurting my family and myself on my own."

"But that was a lot for you to handle on your own. I can't pay a therapist just to whine about my ex."

"You can. Anyone can go to therapy, no matter how big or small are the issues to be solved."

"Really?"

Daphne nodded. "Text Veronica about that. Maybe she can help you find a therapist at Cornell."

"Okay…" Briar smiled weakly, but her features quickly changed to horror. "What if someone assigns Felicity to be my therapist?"

Daphne giggled. "I think only graduates work there."

"Well, that's a relief. Can you imagine her offering counseling services?"

“She’d definitely throw you in a Skinner box¹.”

The two friends guffawed.

"Thank you for not judging, Daph. It's good to have you back."

"Of course."

As the wind blew against their faces, Briar pulled her coat tighter. "We should go now. It's getting cold."

"Yeah…" Daphne looked back at the imposing Edgewater estate and sighed. "I have to go back eventually, right?"

"I can call mum and stay with you. We could call Ann to join."

"I'll take your offer," Daphne replied. "But I'll lock the door and hide the keys so you don't feel tempted to leave the room in the middle of the night."

"Good thinking."

With that, the two friends stood up and walked back to the viscountess's family house.

Harry carried a large bowl of popcorn in one arm and a beer when he walked in to find his brother alone in the lounge. "Hey, where's Daph?"

"Upstairs with Briar. She's still upset and doesn't want to be anywhere near Theresa."

"But Theresa isn't even joining us tonight. She went home."

"She's with mother actually. Something about planning the activities of the ladies' club. I don't know..." Edmund gave his shoulders.

"Mate, don't you think you're a little too harsh with her?"

"Are you defending her? Didn't you see what she did to Daphne today?" Edmund stared at his brother incredulously. "That was not the first time."

"I know, but it's also not the first time I see you mistreating her."

"Harry, there are things about these women that you don't know. And if I were you, I'd choose to stay in blissful ignorance."

The younger man eyed his brother in confusion. He wouldn't say something like this if he didn't mean it. But the youngest child of the Foredales was never fond of the family's old tradition of hiding secrets.

"Whatever. I'm calling Daphne and Briar." He placed the bowl and beer down on the coffee table.

"Suit yourself," Edmund mumbled as his younger brother headed towards the stairs.

On the first floor of Edgewater main estate, everything was quiet. Except for music coming from his sister's bedroom, he couldn't hear a thing. He then entered his room to leave his mobile charging when two distinct female voices coming from his mother’s suite caught his attention.

"Embarrassing a noblewoman in front of guests?! Are you out of your mind, Theresa?!" Henrietta snapped.

"It's Daphne! Making her life miserable is the plan!"

"Not in front of Vincent and guests like Viscount Lochdale, you lazy sod! And questioning the fact that she travelled to see her new boyfriend?!"

"But we want her to be unhappy!"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Theresa! Are you dead from the neck up or is it the effect of the entire bottle of Dom you had by yourself after Edmund dismissed you?" The countess hissed. "Don't you understand that for her to leave, she has to feel welcomed somewhere else? This diplomat she found in America is perfect!"

"But Felicity thinks—"

"I couldn't care less about what that spoiled brat thinks! As long as Daphne stays here, she'll always be a threat to my sons. If this diplomat takes her away, that'll be the best thing for all of us. Including you."

"But—"

"No buts! If you still want to marry my son, you won't say a word against Daphne's newest relationship. Is that clear?"

"Yes, ma'am…" Theresa’s voice faltered.

"Now leave. Your presence is giving me migraines."

Harry shook his head as he heard steps and sniffs whilst his mother mumbled. "Ugh, no wonder Edmund barely tolerates her when he wants sex…"

The minute he walked out of his room, the young man bumped into Theresa. "Oh!" His hands immediately held her by the shoulders.

"I'm sorry…" She managed to say.

"Don't worry about it. Are you alright?"

"Yes…"

"Are you sure?"

"It's been a long day. I'll just go home now."

"Of course…" Harry nodded, releasing her. "Have a good night, Theresa."

She looked over her shoulder and gave him a tired smile. "Have a good night, Harry."

-----

¹ Operant conditioning chamber created by B.F. Skinner to study animal behavior.

[thelittlecookiecat]

Desire and Decorum Book 1, Chapter 11

Part 1

[hwu-adventures-blog]

Desire and Decorum book 3, Chapter 13:

HARRY IS NOW ON OUR SIDE!!!! YEEEESSSSS!!!!! TAKE THAT GIDEON!!!!! Also, Miss Sutton????? OF COURSE ITS HER WHO HARRY HAS HIS EYES ON!!! WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE???? I, for one, welcome this romance with open arms!

..... I see you pixelberry, with that sneaky Lord of The Rings: The Two Towers reference... Edmund is Sam Gamgee confirmed 😂😂

Alright, who invited miss Felicity Holloway??because I certainly didn’t!!!! I don’t regret being mean about her present she deserved it! Also, good point, Cordelia, who the heck is going to give MC away? (I chose Edmund in the end but it did take me literally ten minutes to decide between him and Harry, because I felt bad for my younger pixelated brother, but I did go for Edmund in the end because I was hoping he’d be a choice if we got to choose and if Harry wasn’t so I stuck with my original plan. Also I chose Annabelle to be MC’s attendant along with Briar because I sure as Hell wasnt choosing Holloway because why the hell is she even at our wedding in the first place?? and sorry, Theresa, but we haven’t spent enough time with you to get that close but I still love you and fully support your budding relationship with Harry!).

Is it just me or am I the only one who could feel the tension was high in the first half of this conversation and I’m not just talking about the tension of potentially losing at chess, if you get my meaning 😉😏😉... also don’t get too cocky Ernest, Beatrice is going to own you at chess!

Boom! What did I tell you? I was just following Viscount Westenly’s advice (although I almost clicked on the option that would have lost Beatrice the match though 😧)... Well played though... Also, I see you sneakily flirting Ernest, MC must be having an impact on your gentlemenly behaviour 😉

The goodbye is too cute AHHHH!!!!! I’m dead!!!!! ❤️💕❤️💕 (Also will I never not pass up an opportunity to kiss Ernest? No, no I will not) also, it was a calm and peaceful and good way to finish the chapter... which makes me suspicious because it looks like it’s the calm before the storm....

...but still! I needed that after the s**t storm that was The Royal Heir yesterday! So thank you PB for giving us some breathing space for once! And I CANT WAIT TO MARRY ERNEST IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS!!!!!!

[missameliep]

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Four: The Undeniable Truth

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU 

Pairing: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC)

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

Word count: ~12K

Summary: During the drinking games, truths will be revealed and hearts will be exposed, but some are not the ones everybody had been expecting...

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster, Annabelle Parsons; Luke Harper; Theresa Sutton.

Notes: 

* All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC.

* A huge thank you to @princess-geek for being my beta in this chapter and for all her support to my writing and this series.

* Non-English words translated at the notes in the end.

* Trigger warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of underage drinking and dialogues with sexual implied content.

* This is my submission to @choicesficwriterscreations fic of the week and @choicesmonthlychallenge (prompts - friends/holding hands/forehead kisses).

Elizabeth approached Edmund, held his arm, and signalled for him to lean closer. “Is it safe playing with Theresa?” she whispered, “Won’t she gossip about us later?”

“I suppose you never played a drinking game with Annabelle,” Edmund whispered back, and Elizabeth shook her head. She never played any sort of drinking game because getting drunk and sharing personal information are her least favourite pastimes.

“Theresa never lasts long in the game,” he explained, lowering his voice, “and she will be too smashed to remember anything tomorrow. Probably the rest of us too. So, your secrets will be safe.”

“I don’t have secrets!” was her immediate defensive response, but the pitch of her voice gave away the statement was far from the truth.

“Then you’ll have no problems playing Truth or Drink,” he said with the hint of satisfaction in his expression that only a sibling ready to see the other falling flat on their bottoms can express.

Releasing the grip on his arm, Elizabeth lagged, regretting not thoroughly thinking this through.

What was I thinking? This is such a bad idea! I’ll get drunk and embarrass myself. Or worse, Briar will tease me about Hamid, and I’ll be mortified.

Slipping something stupid or inappropriate or worse the truth was simply overwhelming.

“Aren’t you coming?” Edmund asked, holding the door open for her, and she threw her shoulders back trying to balance the weight of her worries about everything that could go wrong tonight.

On her way outside, she’s met by Briar’s stare, holding Hamid’s arm for support. “What’s wrong?”

Gnawing at one thumb’s nail, Elizabeth said, “I haven’t played this kind of game since school and there was no drinking involved...”

“Be brave and honour your ancestor, a woman who had premarital sex with a man who was not her fiancé and engaged in swordfight on her wedding day. Total badass!”

“Sword fighting? Impressive,” Hamid remarked, and Briar promised to lend him the journal after she finished it.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fun.” Leaning forward and adopting a conspiratorial tone, Briar said, “And if the truth it too ugly to handle, lie. Just like everybody else.”

“Excuse me?” Elizabeth’s brows raised in surprise. “What’s the point if you don’t say the truth?”

Both laughed at her reaction and Hamid offered his free arm so they could walk together.

After assembling large bags of crisps, a plate with mini-sandwiches, a bowl of popcorn, cans of soft drinks and the four wine bottles Edmund and Annabelle retrieved from the famous Edgewater’s cellar – wine good enough to not give them a headache tomorrow, but not the vintage and expensive kind that would be missed – and one bottle of scotch from Edmund’s personal reserve for his own pleasure, the group re-joined.

Edmund glanced at the silent corridor before closing the door of the elegant guestroom. The crackling of the fire and the drumming of the rain against the windows were muffled by the exciting conversations.

This room was not selected because of the delicate floral wallpaper or the inviting furniture, but due to its remoteness, in the wing reserved for summer guests. There was not the slightest chance of Lady Dominique bursting in unless she was actively searching for any of them, which was very unlikely, considering she left to a dinner party in one of the neighbouring estates. Despite living in these lands for the better part of her life, the lady had greatly complained about the inconvenience of the pouring rain when she stopped by at the game room to hear about the picnic, and a few of them stifled laughs at the resemblance of Elizabeth’s own displeasure with the weather at London on several occasions.

Except for Theresa who didn’t really care for contemporary music but liked Mariah Carey, everyone else engaged in a passionate debate about the perfect music for the evening, advocating for their favourite genres. Annabelle, for instance, suggested one of her playlists with progressive rock and all-female rock bands.

“You can’t dance to that?” Briar retorted, and Annabelle snorted pointing at Briar’s feet resting on an ottoman. “First, you can’t dance anyway. Second,” she made a dramatic pause and a song started blasting from her mobile, “how can anyone not feel like dancing to ‘Bad Reputation’?”

To form a consensus was almost impossible considering the variety of playlists and genres each one vouched for. After fifteen minutes of debating, Hamid’s diplomatic skills proved effective in solving the impasse, and he offered to create a collaborative playlist with songs from everyone’s favourite playlists, and peace reigned once more.

With the music playing in the background, their attention focused on moving the armchairs and placing throw-pillows over the plush rug to make room for everyone around the hardwood oval cocktail table, where two of the bottles of wine and seven low ball glasses had been settled. With Annabelle’s assistance, Briar accommodated herself first. Despite Theresa’s presence – which was emphasised by the incessant chatter about a range of subjects that her fiancé had little to no interest in listening to, leaving Hamid, the most empathetic of the group, stuck with her for the past several minutes –, Edmund looked intently, as if entranced by the scene, or considering if he should take a seat at the cushion on Briar’s other side.

As spectators of the drama unfolding, Elizabeth shared a knowing look with Hamid, and for a moment she considered walking to her stepbrother and smacking the back of his head to bring him back to his senses. However, resorting to violence was not necessary. Without being incited by any of the presents, Edmund turned around and picked a different cushion, one that wasn’t beside nor facing Briar, and Theresa followed suit, sitting beside him.

Annabelle’s thirst for drama would not be sate just yet, a hint of disappointment visible when a mischievous smile was erased from her lips.

From the remaining three cushions, Hamid deliberately picked the one in the middle, and with an inviting smile at Elizabeth, patted the cushion at his right, the one who would allow her to sit beside Briar as well – which the man certainly assumed could make the choice easier. Taking the cue, Luke sat at his left, between him and Edmund.

“Everyone knows the rules?” Annabelle asked.

“Can’t I just drink? I’m not interested in the secrets or whatever...”

“You know that’s not how it works, Marlcaster. Anyone who doesn’t participate can’t be here. So, in or out?”

“Out.” Picking the bottle of scotch, he started to get up, but Elizabeth jumped to her feet and pointed a finger at him, remembering the times they were kids and he sneaked away with his friends to play videogames, leaving a crying Harry behind for her to soothe.

“No, you don’t!” she said with a firmer and louder tone than everyone expected, including herself. When every pair of surprised eyes darted to her face, she blushed and took a second to muster an inexpressible small smile. “It will be fun,” she pushed lively words through her teeth, while trying to telepathically warn him: “You’re not dropping Theresa with us!”

Startled by the intimidating tone he hasn’t heard in years and narrowed green eyes staring him down, he hesitated for a second before changing his mind and sitting back down.

Theresa looked happy at his change of mind, and he actively ignored Annabelle’s muffled giggles.

“As our hostess, Liz should start!” Briar rapped on the table, drawing a drumming sound.

“Alright. Let me see... Never have I ever... broken a bone.”

Hamid, Annabelle, Edmund, and Luke sipped their glasses, and it was time for the next participant.

With a mischievous smile, Briar looked around, and said, “Never have I ever... ghosted someone.”

“How is that possible if we’re all alive?” Theresa asked out loud, and Luke huffed with laugh assuming it was a joke – which in fact was not. As Hamid explained the meaning of the word ghosting in this context, Annabelle, who had been targeted by the asker, drank the content of her glass. Luke and Edmund did the same, then a hesitant Elizabeth took a small sip of the red wine as subtle as possible, but not subtle enough to escape Briar’s hawk eyes.

“You ghosted someone?” she gasped.

Looking intently at the glass in her hand, Elizabeth mumbled, “Once. Long ago... It was… yeah… it was no big deal…”

“Really?” Briar’s voice and eyebrows raised. “You, Elizabeth Victoria Foredale, were absolutely fine ghosting someone who I assume fancied you?”

“That’s not my name!”

“Don’t change the subject!” Briar pointed a warning finger at her, trying to hold in a laugh.

Elizabeth sighed and gnawed at a cuticle, “Fine. I might have sent an anonymous gift basket from a fancy bakery… because I was feeling bad for him…”

“Now, I believe it.”

“I wish the girls who ghosted me would’ve been that nice…” Annabelle mused, “Carbs would make it easier having my ass dumped...”

“Unless they weren’t gluten free…” Briar chimed in.

“Good point. That would be the final blow.”

“Why not simply saying you were not interested?” Hamid inquired, not a hint of judgement in his tone, but her face was already burning with all the attention her honesty attracted – and a bit of shame for admitting it out loud in front of him.

“Poor social skills,” she sighed, understanding what Briar meant before. “Now can we move on?”

Annabelle was next and a playful smile curled her lips, while eyes full of mischief focused on her target. The question darted from her lips with intent. “Never have I ever kept a secret crush from people in this room.”

Edmund’s gaze flicked over to Annabelle, and his fingers encircled the glass, but he didn’t lift it; instead, he let his palms splay over the table, watching the others, to see if anybody was going to take a drink or point a finger at him.

After a moment of dwelling if her crush was indeed a secret or not, considering at least half of the presents were aware of it, Elizabeth also decided not to drink.

Resting her chin on her palm, Annabelle chewed on a crisp and muttered looking directly at Edmund, “I was expecting someone to drink…”

“I’m absolutely transparent,” Hamid said, “none of my crushes could ever be a secret.”

“Me too,” Briar piped in. “I’m an open book.”

“Then you must tell me,” Theresa pleaded, “I don’t know who your crush is!”

“Right now?” Briar gulped. “Zero crushes!”

“What about Woods?” Edmund threw the question and with an impassive expression resumed sipping his drink. The attention of the group flicked from him to Briar.

“I wouldn’t call it a crush... He’s a... friend.”

“Woods?” Theresa echoed the name, trying to figure out who they were talking about. “You mean the butler?”

“Yes, he’s a butler and the sweetest man I’ve ever met.”

“Doesn’t that mean you want to be more than friends?”

“I... It’s...” Briar stuttered, and Edmund looked away. While she tried to find a definitive answer, her cheeks reddened in an extraordinary occurrence. “I don’t, Theresa. What we have is perfect.”

Theresa flooded Briar with questions about Woods and her love life, but most remained answered.

“Let’s not dally. Theresa, I believe you’re next.”

“Never have I ever... hmmm...” Theresa fidgeted with the pendants of her bracelet while looking at Elizabeth. “Never have I ever… being arrested.”

Only Annabelle drank.

“Twice.” She raised two of her fingers, sating the curiosity of the others. “Protesting.”

Propping her arms over the table, Theresa leaned and tried to meet Elizabeth’s eye. “What about you, Eliza?”

“Me?” She pointed at herself. “What about me?”

“We’re amongst friends here…” she said in a honeyed tone, “Not even once? Not even for a tiny, teeny crime? Shoplifting, perhaps?”

Like a fish out of the water, Elizabeth’s mouth opened and closed without emitting any sound, and she considered how to reply to this questioning without being terribly rude, even though that was one of the occasions courtesies could be ignored. Before she decided, Briar laughed at the inquisitiveness, and blocked Theresa’s view of Elizabeth’s face. “What are you? A cop?”

Theresa laughed, but it was a nervous kind of laugh and not her regular one.

“No, of course not! I’m not investigating her… I mean… I’m being… nosy, like we ought to, right?” she stuttered and averted her gaze, making her words sound even more unconvincing. “That’s what makes it fun, isn’t it?”

There was no answer to the questions, only more chewing sounds before the game resumed.

“Your turn, Marlcaster,” Annabelle said and contemplated him for a second. “Why is your glass empty?”

The glass was pushed in her direction. “I need a refill.”

She poured more wine, filling the short glass to the rim. Edmund stared at the content of the glass as if expecting the Bordeaux to offer him a viable idea, until his blue eyes flicked to Annabelle, and a barely-there smile curled his lips.

“Never have I ever… gotten a tattoo.”

In a mix of complaining about being unjustly targeted in this game, and complimenting the fine wine, Annabelle drank first, followed by Luke and Elizabeth. Edmund’s jaw dropped at the sight of his stepsister drinking.

“You? You have a tattoo?”

“I actually have two,” Elizabeth said offering a proud smile.

His blue eyes widened, unblinking. “Lady grandmother will have a stroke if she ever finds out!”

“Since they’re very well concealed, she won’t find out, unless one of you tell her, which I hope you won’t.”

“I can testify they’re absolutely hidden from sight!” Hamid said causally, and the eyes of the one he was speaking about darted to his face.

“Dude!” Elizabeth exclaimed lifting both hands.

“I’m complimenting you for doing an outstanding job hiding them. I saw you on your bathing suit and there was no sign of tattoos. Not that I was checking for tattoos, but... Good job!” He raised his thumbs in approval, meanwhile, Edmund shook his head, muttered something unintelligible under his breath and gulped the content of his glass.

Chuckling, Annabelle interrupted the questions about the design of Elizabeth’s tattoos and the pleas to see them.

“Alright, we get it. Liz’s got tattoos and Hamid’s thirst... Luke you’re next.”

They played more rounds and soon emptied two bottles of wine and consumed half the food. The more Theresa drank, the less her questions seemed coherent with her early line of investigation on Elizabeth’s life and the more inclined she felt to ask about everyone else’s, for undisclosed reasons Hamid’s love life seemed to have piqued her interest the most.

It was safe to say that despite the sheer embarrassment of sharing details about her life, Elizabeth was enjoying herself. Perhaps it was the fact that by that point the alcohol had released part of her inhibitions, perhaps the laughter and funny stories her friends shared eased her. Even if the prospect of Edmund cracking under pressure seemed less likely to happen, she was content, but sleepy. Stretching her arms over her head, Elizabeth yawned, even though it was only a quarter after 10pm.

Edmund pulled the cork of the third bottle of wine, which fell to the floor and rolled, disappearing underneath the sofa.

Annabelle looked around holding one of the empty bottles, and declared, “I believe it’s time to change games. What do you think?”

“Definitely. We’re not really finding out anything interesting, except that Luke is a Potterhead.” Her words carried her disapproval, and he raised his hands to the air, correcting her, “I’m not. I told you: my ex was obsessed; I learned by osmosis…and most of it against my will. It’s not like I was going to comic-cons with her and cosplaying…”

“I bet you dressed as Harry at some point…” she giggled while pouring more wine on hers and Annabelle’s glasses.

He chuckled and averted his gaze.

“Ohmygod! You did it!”

Without looking at anybody, he licked his lips and answered quietly against the rim of the glass, “I certainly did, but it was definitely not for Halloween…”

His words stirred Briar’s curiosity, and she leaned forward, elbows on the table, completely focused on him and the information he was half-offering. She tried to meet his eyes, but he averted his gaze, while sipping his drink, and her mouth rounded when realization dawned on her.

“Roleplaying, Luke?” Briar cried, and he shrugged. “Naughty!”

After a few unanswered follow-up questions about his sex life, the nosy woman finally dropped the subject.

“We’ll play Truth or Drink. You know the drill. Whoever the bottle points at must answer the question or drink!” Annabelle announced wringing her hand.

“What about Hamid, he’s not really drinking...” Briar said grinning and pointing at the small glass filled with diet coke. “It won’t be fair to us.”

“Why aren’t you drinking? Is this a religious thing?” Theresa shot the question, and Edmund chided her.

Hamid waved his hand signalling it was okay, however Elizabeth glared at Theresa, finally showing irritation at the nosy woman inquires.

“You don’t need to answer that, Hamid,” she said softly to him.

“It’s alright, Liz,” he replied, resting a hand over the one of hers lying on her knee. “You guys want the long or short version?”

“Long!” Briar and Theresa cried in unison.

“I used to drink,” Hamid started.

After drinking the entire content of the small glass, he rolled his lips inside his mouth. When they rolled back out and parted in a wide grin, Elizabeth forced her eyes to focus on anything else, because she shouldn’t be staring at him or his lips like a cartoon hungry wolf.

“You must understand two things: the first one, Annem’s family is well-known in Türkiyefor being descendants of Ottoman Sultans and for its many politicians. They are ultratraditional and awfully strict when it comes to public opinion… And second, when I was eleven, my family moved back to Istanbul after living in Canberra, and our lives changed completely… suddenly there were journalists following me and my sisters around, trying to find any dirty on us to shame Dede[1] Emir and Dayı[2] Eren, and Annem’s constant surveillance… I couldn’t leave the house by myself, except to go to school… I felt trapped. –”

“A gilded cage is still a cage”, Elizabeth remembered the words he told her once, finally realizing its meaning.

“– Until my father was assigned to the embassy at Boston and we moved again. I was fifteen, starting high school and it was like someone released me from a cage. I was free and eager to experience everything possible before being sent back to Istanbul and facing the life planned for me... Moderation wasn’t an acceptable choice.”

“That sounds like a dangerous combination,” Luke pointed out.

“It was fun and liberating. For a while, at least…” he paused, and poured himself more diet coke. “Besides drinking quite frequently without my parents’ knowledge, I’ve done a couple of other things that could be considered dangerous and imprudent, like riding motorcycles, skydiving and hitchhiking a plane.”

“You did what?” Annabelle and Luke gasped at the same time.

“Haven’t I told you that story? This is one of my proudest accomplishments.” Hamid looked around for confirmation and met the astonished faces with a wide grin. “My friends and I were at this party at school and bored out of our minds. After we had drank all the vodka we snuck in, someone suggested going to the airport because ‘how fun would it be if we could hitchhike a plane!’”

In his narrative, he used the charming tone he adopts whenever telling one of his famous anecdotes; words and cadence carefully picked to entertain, like he did at dinner the night before. This time, Elizabeth caught his act, noticing the theatrical hand gestures and smiles when he talked about his friends, sons and daughters of politicians or diplomats like himself, and suspected he was purposedly trying to divert from the original subject without giving away his intention. Most of his stories are about other people, and the ones focused on himself, usually reinforce his charming and fun personality. Humorous self-deprecation is not to be expected from him.

Briar guessed, “I bet it was you who suggested that?”

“To this day, Lewis insists it was my idea, but I swear it was Amalia’s… she wanted to go to New York, I only suggested flying would be faster. Anyway… we went to the airport, and I sweet-talked one of the flight attendants to introduce me to someone in charge of flights… we happened to come at the perfect time... Two hours later we’re on a plane to New York.” Hamid added with an ear-to-ear grin, “Bono Vox’s private jet.”

“No way!”

“How did you even–?” Luke muttered, trying to figure out what to even ask, and Hamid shrugged his shoulders, with a too proud of a smile.

“I asked nicely.”

“Did you meet Bono?” Annabelle asked.

“Unfortunately, no. But I met someone from the crew, and she got us backstage passes to the shows at Chicago and Philly, and we met the band. My friend Melissa got to sing with Bono.”

“Who’s Bono?” Theresa asked, not holding her tongue anymore.

“U2’s lead singer. Songwriter. Activist,” Annabelle replied, sounding more offended by the ignorance with each word she mouthed without recognition.

“Sings old people’s music,” Briar whispered, and Theresa giggled, drawing an exasperated sigh from Annabelle.

The more Elizabeth learns about Hamid, the harder to believe that he could not find her tedious.

“The drinking,” Edmund said, more interested in the story than anything that happened in the game so far, “if it was so amazing, why did you quit?”

Hamid’s gaze flicked to him, and he tilted his head. “Who said it was amazing?”

“Cool friends, flying in musicians’ planes, concerts… you painted a very appealing picture.” Edmund gulped the scotch in his glass.

“I see your point… I realised I cared about the thrill and adventures, and I don’t need to drink to have any of those...”

“Sounds fake,” Briar murmured to him, “but okay.”

Laughing at Briar’s jest, Hamid added, “...and there were much tastier things to put in my mouth whatsoever.”

“Now I believe you!”

“Very mature,” Annabelle complimented. “Many people abstain. And not only for religious purposes. So, to even things out, if you’re all in favour, we’ll play a round of Truth or Dare exclusively with Hamid. Whenever you don’t want to answer, you need to submit to a dare of our choice!”

“Can we still drink?” Edmund asked, and Annabelle squinted her eyes at him, and he took that as a permission to drink an entire tumbler of scotch.

“I have nothing to hide. But maybe we should make it more interesting… If I answer all your questions, you’ll submit to a dare,” Hamid said, indicating the group of friends with a wave of his hand, Annabelle looked around searching for confirmation and offered her hand.

“Agreed, –” Annabelle shook hands with Hamid. “– But no dares involving leaving the country.”

“Sounds fair, but incredibly boring.”

Briar clapped her hands and pointed a finger at Elizabeth. “Lizzy, you ask first. Don’t disappoint Lady Clara!”

“Can we ask anything?” She looked at Hamid for confirmation.

“Anything.”

Hamid’s eyes, pools of dark and warmth, locked with hers, an invitation to his inner world. She held the power to ask anything from his past, present or future. Anything.

Elizabeth pondered if she should ask a question Hamid wouldn’t want to answer, which means no dare of his in the end, or one that he would in fact answer. The second option was much more tempting to her curious nature. The only issue was coming up with one unrelated to herself or the interrupted conversation of that afternoon – something incredibly hard to do with his thumb stroking the back of her hand this gently, like it was the single most important thing he had to do this evening.

She realized they were holding hands underneath the table and couldn’t help wondering when this became such a trivial occurrence and not the kind of event capable of causing a turmoil. Nevertheless, it felt absolutely right.

Overwhelmed by infinite choices and her own fears of exposing herself, instead of diving in, she decided on dipping her toes.

“What –” She paused, cleared her throat, and started over, “What do most people assume is true about you but in fact isn’t?”

Taking a deep breath, Hamid’s free hand raised to his hair, and his fingers combed it back twice. The unusual long silence made some consider he would ask for a dare instead, judging by the gloating expressions and meaningful looks shared.

“There’s a persistent belief that I’m a playboy who treats women as trophies… disregarding their feelings...” He shifted in his place uncomfortably, as if he were sitting over thorns. “But I am anything like that. I’m not... heartless... promiscuous… or incapable of having a serious relationship because I never had one. And I hope that is not what you think of me,” he said looking into her eye and she replied with a slight shake of her head, even if occasionally she wondered if the picture painted about him was an exaggeration or matched his true self.

“Good,” he whispered, and his lips parted into a wide grin that stole her breath.

That was a perfectly good answer, wasn’t it? Unproblematic. Romantic even, if she focused exclusively on the fact he was concerned about her opinion and not that they were surrounded by people and can’t carry on this conversation... However, before her musings went far, Briar shared her strong indignation.

“It’s bloody 2018! Your sex life – or mine or anyone else’s – should be nobody’s business,” she said looking around, searching for approval, and Theresa pursed her lips, not entirely sure if the criticism wasn’t about herself, who is an avid consumer of celebrity gossip in general.

“Some take pleasure speculating… and trying to label others’ behaviours...”

“And making money out of it,” Annabelle added. “Don’t forget there’s a whole business profiting from people’s private lives. Scandal sells tabloids – or these days gets the more clicks…”

“At Türkiye, my pictures have definitely enriched some newspapers’ owners, and brought shame to my family’s name...”

“Why? Being slutty doesn’t make you a bad person!”

“I wouldn’t refer to myself like that, but I agree,” he laughed. “To be honest, I don’t really care about what they write about me... But I know it’s a privilege of being a man from a wealthy family; things would be completely different if I were gay or a woman…”

“Or both,” Annabelle pointed out.

“I like a good gossip like the next person... but I really don’t get it. What’s the matter if you like it casual? Or one-night stands? If it’s consensual, it’s nobody’s business,” Briar concluded with fire in her eyes, “Judging people by number of partners or how frequently they shag is utter tosh!”

“Well said!” Annabelle clapped and Briar bowed with a little flourish of her hands. “Now that you got it all out of your chest, can we move on? It’s your turn to ask.”

In a second, Briar’s face changed completely. She flashed the widest and most mischievous grin at Hamid.

Taking a deep breath, her lungs filled with enough air to sing the chorus to Wannabe and Annabelle, Elizabeth and Luke laughed before snapping their fingers at the rhythm. Edmund and Theresa who weren’t present when Hamid told his sisters used to dress him up as one of the Spice Girls looked utterly lost.

When her nasal voice faded, Briar pushed an imaginary microphone in his direction. “Which Spice Girl, Hamid?”

Despite the smile, he shook his head slowly and muttered words under his breath that were not the answer; Elizabeth wondered if any of those were curse words, considering his preference to swear in languages other than English.

“Sporty.” The word was pushed through his smile while he failed to look unaffected by Briar’s victorious grin.

“I knew it!” Briar cried. “Now we need visuals!”

“Not happening.”

“Don’t be so confident, Lizzy can ask your sisters...”

“Supposing she in fact knows one of my sisters, she wouldn’t do that,” he replied not missing a beat, but the teasing words might have reached the intent when Elizabeth didn’t side with him immediately.

Stealing a sideway glance at her, he only got a shrug and a non-reply in the form of a small smile.

Sipping the wine, while he insisted on the subject and the fact his sisters and Elizabeth obviously don’t know each other, she giggled against the rim of the small glass. His reasoning and insistence amused her. For a change, she got the upper hand and would enjoy every second of this. Like this wine. Sipping it bit by bit.

“Maybe I didn’t have to ask...” Elizabeth said softly putting the empty glass down.

“And you didn’t tell them?” he taunted, referring to Annabelle and Briar who were enjoying this almost as much as her. “Impossible.”

“Are you calling me a gossip now?”

“Absolutely not. But I fear you’re trying to trick me into believing you have befriended my sister.”

“Sisters,” she corrected. “And last week your aunt and two of your cousins from Adana dropped me DMs too.” Shaking his head slowly, with a teasing smile with a hint of the tip of his tongue peeking, he leaned forward, his eyes searching for any hesitation.

“Show me your mobile.”

“You don’t believe my word?”

“Frankly, no. There’s no evidence supporting your allegations, Miss Foredale. I’m afraid the court will dismiss the case,” he taunted, using legal jargons learned from TV shows.

Perhaps it was the casual atmosphere or his long nose almost touching the tip of hers, the warmth of his breath or intense gaze unwavering from her eyes while he slowly retreated... Perhaps it was a combination of all the above. Whatever it was, it encouraged her to search in her foggy brain the perfect story to convince him of the seriousness of her allegations. She remembered one of the first anecdotes Faiza and Hande shared about their younger brother after he shared a picture of her sitting at the park after jogging with the hashtag #londonsmostbeautifulsmile.

“Then how do I know about the incident with your mother’s ring?”

In slow motion, the self-satisfied smile vanished from his lips and so did the glow of his skin. While his brain processed the information, the sides of his neck and cheeks turned a darker shade.

“Yok artık[3]!” he spat. “Who told you that? Was it Faiza?”

“Stop speaking in code!” Briar cut them off, “I want to know it too!”

“Me too!” Theresa and Annabelle piped in.

“Then you’ll have to ask Hamid.”

“Is it worth?” Annabelle who would be the next asker inquired, and Elizabeth shrugged dismissively, it was in her hands to decide, but judging by his reaction it could be a question to make him yield.

The other took a moment to consider if it was the sort of knowledge worthy of her question or not and debated with Briar in hushed tones.

“Such bigmouths!” he sighed running a hand through his face. “That story is so embarrassing!”

“It’s so not! It’s cute!” Elizabeth said, and he raised his head revealing a wide grin and his skin had darkened even more, a hint of redness reached the tips of his ears. “I can’t believe I made you blush!” Elizabeth laughed and fished a handful of crisps from the bowl.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugged. “I don’t blush.”

“I also thought you didn’t...” she said offering him the bowl. “But you do. And it’s adorable.” The tip of her index finger touched his face, and the skin of his cheek was as warm as his smile, confirming her assumption. His lips spread even further, and his cheeks rounded beneath her lingering touch, dimples forming on each side of his face and eyes squinting.

“My turn,” Annabelle announced, and his attention was drawn to her. “Have you ever had a sex dream with anyone in this room?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows at him, and he smiled and answered quickly, no hesitation whatsoever, “Yes, I have.”

Excited cheers and teasing followed.

“Really? Who?” Briar inquired not holding her curiosity.

“That is another question,” he said, “and you already asked yours.”

“Was it me?” she pressed, “I know one can’t fake the kind of chemistry we had dancing last night, but I only see you as a friend. Please, keep me out of your dirty dreams.”

“Now you’re breaking my heart,” Hamid laughed it off, and soon the game moved on.

“Who would you rather date Donna Bowman or Felicity Holloway?” Theresa asked and leaned forward expectantly, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes not hiding the annoyance.

Hamid plastered his most alluring smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“They are both attractive women, each with a particular beauty. Making me choose one over the other seems absolutely unfair, don’t you agree?”

Hamid’s words were so convincing that pleased Theresa, who nodded. Briar however didn’t miss the opportunity to tease him.

“But that’s the point. You must choose or you’re not really answering the question... And if you don’t answer, it’s time for a dare, innit?” She looked at Annabelle for confirmation, and Hamid inhaled deeply and shook his head slowly.

“Donna.”

“Oooh! She’ll be so thrilled!”

“Did you roll your eyes again?” Hamid asked Elizabeth, who looked away, but realized he had been observing her reaction.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she said focusing on the breadcrumbs she was picking from the table and throwing at an empty plate, keeping to herself how the mere mention of Felicity and her minion’s names bothered her. 

“Can she do that?” Briar asked pointing at Theresa, hands typing on her mobile underneath the table.

“Theresa, you know the rules! You can’t share the answers.”

“Alright,” she put the mobile away, but only after pressing ‘send’.

“Your turn, Marlcaster.”

“I didn’t think of a question.”

Briar raised her hand in the air as if she were in school. “I have an excellent one!”

“Me too,” Theresa said and whispered something in his ear, and he grimaced.

“I’m not asking that.”

“Please! I’m dying of curiosity!”

He downed the amber liquid, and said, “You can have my question…”

Showing gratitude, Theresa kissed his cheek and addressed the other man eagerly, “Hamid, if you could kiss anyone in the entire world, who would it be?”

Unlike the other question, this time, Hamid stole a furtive glance at Elizabeth, and smiled the kind of wide and open smile that dimples his cheeks and almost makes his face glow.

There were no introductory words, flattery, or praise to women either present or absent, just a simple and direct answer.

“Elizabeth.” Her name was softly spoken, rolling out of his tongue like a melody, and her heart skipped a beat.

The intensity of Hamid’s bright and intense eyes on her was unbearable. Allowing herself a moment to process this reply, she lowered her gaze.

The kissing part wasn’t that surprising – only a few hours before he said he wanted to kiss her –, but the fact that given any option he would still choose her over any model, movie star or a childhood crush was mind-blowing! And the boldness of being this frank without assurance whether her reaction would be? She could never! Even after drinking, she would never put herself on the spotlight to the judgement and opinions of others.

Her heart was pounding louder than ever, so loud she heard nothing from the room in a while, not acknowledging the chorus of Aww and Ooh and “Kiss him!”stirred by his answer or his sigh when her hand slipped away from his, not out of displeasure but to wipe the gelid sweat damping her palms on her jeans.

“I’m baffled you’d still choose her after what happened!” Theresa blurted out, and she received confused looks in return that encouraged her to explain the point. Her words flowed in that characteristic quick pace of hers, “Considering she broke up with you to be with Ernest Sinclaire, I thought you would pick anyone else, really… Unless you are trying to win her back... are you? In that case it would be so romantic!”

“O quê?[4]” Elizabeth gasped.

Amused, Hamid glanced at Elizabeth, whose cheeks haven’t had the chance to return to their natural tawny beige tone. “You broke up with me?”

“I didn’t break up with him!” she assured Theresa.

“You’re dating both!?” Theresa’s nasal voice raised to a shrieking level, and she covered her astonishment with a hand, before her fingers resumed typing on the mobile, ignoring the previous chiding about it.

Pretending to be offended, Briar tried to stifle a giggle and asked, “I am your English best friend, and you didn’t tell me any of this?”

“Halla halla! She didn’t even tell me and I’m the boyfriend!” Hamid sighed. “Since I was in the dark, I need time to process…” His hand covered most of his face, but Elizabeth could still see the grin he was hiding underneath.

The whole thing was hilarious to Hamid and some of the presents, who cackled; even Elizabeth cracked a little smile at his acting skills when he dramatically sobbed. However, Theresa who was completely in the dark misunderstood the heaving of Hamid’s chest with real crying and expressed profound sorrow – she is a notorious gossip but not a heartless woman.

“I’m awfully sorry. Mum is right, this is a flaw of mine: I always speak too much and without minding the consequences. But I didn’t know it was a secret! I swear! Donna showed me the pictures of you,” she said pointing at Hamid and Elizabeth, “and Felicity is always ranting about you and Mr. Sinclaire. She says she’s worried about him and not jealous at all; but believe me she’s so utterly jealous that you caught his eye! And with all the buzz online, I assumed everyone knew!”

Hamid uncovered his face, and asked, “Am I the last to know?”

“Stop with this nonsense!” Elizabeth said, poking Hamid’s arm. “Tell her the truth!”

“Why are you so eager in denying it?” Hamid asked raising his gaze to meet hers, despite the lilt of laughter and the grin that wrinkled the corners of his eyes, there was something vulnerable hinted in his question, “Is it that embarrassing that someone assumes we’re dating?”

“No, it’s not – I’m not – That’s not the point,” she stuttered. Raising one index finger to request a pause, she reached the wine glass and chugged it under Hamid’s attentive gaze. She blinked quickly in a failed attempt to unblurry his face, and he took pity on her.

“Fine. Theresa, your sources are incorrect: there was no breakup because we were not dating in the first place. Therefore, Elizabeth is free to date whoever she wants, including the dashing Mr. Sinclaire,” he said quickly and turned back to Elizabeth, “Satisfied?”

“Then you confirm she is dating Sinclaire!”

“You’re impossible!” Elizabeth shook her head slowly. “What am I to do with you?”

Hamid grinned, his cheeks dimpling even further. “I have plenty of suggestions...” he whispered into her ear, and the huff of his chuckle fanned her neck, causing all the hair in her body to stand on end.

“So, are you or are you not?” Theresa asked, too eager for an answer about the Sinclaire affair.

“Are you already tired of asking me questions? Am I boring you?” Hamid asked Theresa with a mocking pout, momentarily saving Elizabeth from further questions.

“Moving on,” Annabelle clapped. “Luke, your turn. Last question.”

“That’s right,” Hamid teased, wringing his hands, “only one question and then I can reveal my dare!”

“Don’t brag before you hear Luke’s question...”

“I don’t have anything to hide.”

“We need a great question, dude.”

“Don’t worry, Liz, I got an excellent one.” Luke grinned and leaned forward to face the other man. “Who was the person you thought about the last time you got off?”

Hamid’s eyes widened when his brain processed what he was being asked, and the cocky smile vanished from his face.

“Dare,” he said firmly.

“Are you sure?” Annabelle asked for confirmation, and when he nodded, Briar and Luke high-fived.

The group moved to the couch to confabulate, while Hamid remained quiet, chewing on some crisps. To ruffle his feathers, some of the words were deliberately spoken louder.

“Naked selfie...”

“Dick pic...”

“Unsolicited dick pics are not funny!” Annabelle chided.

Cheeks reddened by the alcohol, Theresa laughed loud, “I know someone who wouldn’t mind receiving one.”

“Me too,” Briar jumped in, and Elizabeth glared at her. “I didn’t name names. Yet.” Her guffaws joined Theresa’s.

Edmund’s eyes rolled and his gaze fixed at the ceiling, and it was hard to say whichever bothered him more about the women’s exchange.

The deliberations and goading continued without stirring the desired reaction until Briar whispered in his direction, “Shave his head.”

“No one is touching my hair!” Hamid objected firmly, holding a hand up, and Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief.

“Seriously? That’s where you draw the line?” she asked, pouring herself another glass of wine.

“I'm not ashamed of my body.” His intense gaze stole her words, and she sipped the wine to have something to do with herself.

“Easy there,” he warned, trying to take the bottle away from her.

“I’m half-British,” she slurred, barely mispronouncing the word, and spilling some of the wine when she evaded his move. “I can hold my drink.”

By this point, every tiny glass gulped made her speech more slurring, and her cheeks redder.

Luke raised from his place, and announced, “We dare you to stay outside for five minutes –”

“That’s easy. I lived at Moscow,” Hamid brushed off, but Briar cut in, “Shirtless! And doing jumping jacks!”

Undeterred by the increasing level of difficulty, he got up and pulled the orange jumper over his head and the white t-shirt in one movement, and asked Elizabeth to hold them.

Everyone followed when he marched to the balcony’s door, eager to see if he would go through. When he cracked the door open, a cold drift invaded the room and Edmund’s cheeks turned rosier. The rain had stopped but the floor was wet, and Hamid visibly shivered with the gust of wind, but brushed it off when asked by Elizabeth, throwing her a wink and a smug smile.

“What if he falls?” Elizabeth mumbled to Briar, who had wrapped an arm around hers for support. “The floor is wet.”

“Then you’ll take care of him,” Briar laughed. “Just look at the bright side. And at those abs.” She exaggeratedly bit her lower lip in a suggestive way, and Elizabeth looked away.  

Meanwhile, Annabelle snapped her fingers to get Theresa’s attention. “Your mobile, please,” she said extending one hand with her palm up. “You must quit texting Donna and you can’t send pictures of Hamid to her or else you are out.”

Theresa tried to deny it and argue, but the other was firm in making her abide by the rules, and lastly, she conceded.

“I’ll return to you later,” Annabelle said tucking the mobile into her trousers pocket.

When Hamid started the jumping jacks, the others cheered and clapped – but not Elizabeth. At first, she searched for any indication he was too cold outside or hiding the discomfort of an injury from the riding incident. However, the more she looked at him, the prouder he looked with the attention. The more she stared at his bare torso, the more her hungry eyes focused on his physique and the less her brain processed anything else.

Cradled by her arms, his t-shirt and soft jumper exuded Hamid’s favourite perfume, the sensual fragrance reserved to “special occasions”, an invitation to sinful thoughts. While on the one hand, every second slipping by in the timer Luke has set in his mobile was another one her willpower prevailed against the primal urge of burying her face on his clothes; on the other hand, it meant soon the challenge would be over.

Halfway through the dare, Hamid huffed a loud breath, almost a laugh, smiled and winked at her. She bit her lower lip, watching the wind blowing against his back, dishevelling his hair.

“Do you need a napkin?” Briar whispered and her eyes darted to her face in confusion. “To wipe the drool.” Elizabeth’s hand brushed her own mouth and chin, even though she was pretty sure the other was joking.

Luke’s mobile rang, and the dare was completed.

They waved him in, and Hamid kept the door wide open, allowing the wind to blow their hairs, while making a show of saying it was absolutely agreeable outside and inviting them to the balcony to breath the evening’s fresh air. When he finally came by to retrieve his clothes, all the soft black hair in his arms was standing on end, like it did that day when she held his arm to appreciate the luxuriant scent of his perfume.

“You’re cold.”

“Will you warm me up?” he asked in a soft voice only she could hear, and the rosy on her cheeks had nothing to do with the gust of wind this time.

With a sly smile, he took a long deep breath, and flexed his muscles to make his athletic body even more evident. Standing in front of him, Elizabeth’s gaze travelled downwards from his well-defined and hairless chest to the visible V-cut in his abdomen. Her reaction seemed to please him, and he took his sweet time putting on his t-shirt.

“You should’ve asked him to strip down to his underwear!” Theresa’s voice resonated and Edmund gasped her name, almost dropping his tumbler, and Briar cackled. “Oooh! Did I say that out loud?”

Briar replied, “Maybe next round!”

Both let out loud guffaws and clinked their glasses. Theresa downed the liquid and laughed a little more by herself.

“It seems I’m a little... tipsy already.” She said pulling her dishevelled hair back. “I’m going to –” A loud hiccup interrupted her, and she burst out laughing. “Are you coming?” her whispered question to her fiancé was too loud, and he replied he would stay.

“Good night!”

Her lips missed Edmund’s and she pecked his chin before walking away.

“Didn’t I tell you, Eliza?” Edmund asked looking at his stepsister.

The woman was rubbing Hamid’s hands, who looked too pleased at her fussing over him, and stared at him confused. “Excuse me?”

“Never mind.”

Annabelle growled, “How did we run out of food?”

“Well... we’ve been here for hours... and Briar,” Luke pointed at the friend beside him, turning a bowl upside down to eat the crumbs. Briar protested, but not so vehemently, since ate most of it.

Annabelle and Edmund volunteered to bring more food. While the others chatted, Elizabeth dozed off against Hamid’s shoulder. He encircled her with his arms, bringing her closer, and she sighed contently.

Several minutes later, Edmund and Annabelle returned with half of a Bundt cake, scones, bags of crisps and more wine.

Hamid observed Elizabeth repeatedly sticking her finger on the piece of cake in front of him and licking it, even though she said she wasn’t hungry. Ignoring her protests, he insisted and fed her half the slice and a handful of onion crisps. They smiled when he jokingly pulled the crisps away before she could bite it, and even more so when she bit his finger as a joke.

Spinning an empty bottle of wine, the game resumed. Encouraged by the intimate atmosphere that settled after Theresa’s departure, the questions became increasingly personal. And even Elizabeth showed less discomfort with the questions – though maybe she was a little too tipsy to understand everything her friends were talking about.

“I thought that only happened in porn!” Edmund exclaimed after Hamid replied affirmatively to the question if he was a member of the “Mile-High Club”.

“Sometimes, the desire is too high,” Hamid joked with a gleeful smile.

“How can one even... focus... on that… with the turbulence?” Elizabeth asked. “And people around? What if someone catches you?”

“I’m not going to lie, that’s part of the thrill.”

Laughing, Briar threw a crisp at Hamid. “We should send you to horny jail!”

The bottle spun and pointed to Elizabeth, who propped her chin on one hand and barely could keep both eyes open.

“What’s your biggest turn on?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, it’s easier to point out the things that turn her off like sloppy kisses, smokers’ breath, and manipulative men, but as for turn ons, does she really have one? She can only think of one person that turns her on lately. Hamid’s image occupied her mind, his strong arms, and the way a simple touch of his hand can almost make her combust. However, she wasn’t drunk enough to say this, so she settled on the much less controversial “Making me laugh.”

“You have a clown kink or something?” Briar teased, and Elizabeth laughed.

“No, but it is... just... being funny can be really attractive...”

After a few more questions, Anabelle spun the bottle and it pointed at Hamid again.

“Oral sex: receiving or giving?” she asked him.

“I won’t deny how good receiving is,” he paused and flashed a mischievous smile at the asker, “but I’m a giver. I may travel the world, but my favourite place is between a woman’s legs.”

His answer got him an enthusiastic cheer from Brian, who nudged Elizabeth with much too force, almost knocking the glass off her hand.

“Something else we can agree on,” Annabelle said raising her glass, and he clinked his in an improvised toast.

“A skilled tongue in more ways than we thought…” Elizabeth stated and giggled to herself, receiving amused looks from the others.

“You definitely drank too much,” Edmund said, placing the bottle out of her reach, and Hamid proceeded to gently remove the glass from her hand.

“No! I’m fine!” She retrieved it and gulped the remaining deep red liquid with a grimace. “The room stopped spinning a while ago.”

The others shared knowing looks, and Annabelle proposed, “Last question! Everybody answers! If the world was ending tomorrow, and this was your last night on earth, what would you do?”

“Time to get naughty!” Briar clapped her hands.

“Not necessarily,” Annabelle said, “It doesn’t have to be sexual.”

“But I want to get naughty!” Briar laughed loudly. “I’d spend my last night doing all the naughty things I’ve postponed. And, of course, I’d call my mom and tell her that I love her.”

“With that mouth?” Annabelle teased, “You should call her first!”

Loud laughter and jokes followed. However, Elizabeth couldn’t understand what they were saying. Eyelids incredibly heavy, it became a herculean task to keep them open. She let her head rest against Hamid’s shoulder again. A welcoming warmth surrounded her. Through her lashes, she saw Hamid’s arm holding her steady.

Why was I afraid before?

She blinked and their faces blurred, becoming indistinct like the unfamiliar faces of passengers when the tube is rushing past the stations. Briar addressed her, but it felt like she had been speaking through the thickest of glasses. Someone called her name, and she raised her head, searching the voice.

“What about you, Liz?” Hamid asked softly, touching the side of her face, “The world is ending tomorrow, what would you do tonight?”

Last night on Earth. There’s much to do, even more to say. Where to even begin?

“Maybe with what you want the most?” Hamid offered, and her eyes flicked to his, so adoringly staring at her. Can he read my mind, or did I say it out loud?

Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and her speech had turned much slower and broken than usual, “Alright… Let’s see… I’d tell... father I love him… and am grateful to be his daughter. And I’d do this: surround myself with people I care about... like I am now –”

Briar hugged her with one arm, and Annabelle formed a heart with her fingers, and when Edmund started talking, she cut him off with narrowed eyes.

“I’m not done,” she said, and her voice was a little louder and more slurred, “Before the world ends, I’ll call Professor Richards and tell him to go fuck himself and stick those bloody books up his bloody arse that bloody bastard –”

“Whoa! You can swear!” Hamid’s eyes widened and he laughed, drawing her attention back to him.

“You! I’d tell you that –” She buried her face on Hamid’s chest, mumbling a string of unintelligible words against his orange jumper, before taking a deep breath and looking him in the eye – or at least trying to – with a wide smile. “You smell good and have a cute belly.”

“Sorry? What did you say?”

“I like your belly. It’s wavy.”

“No, no, no! Before that!”

Ignoring his pleas, she turned around, returning to the previous train of thought.

“I want to make a bonfire. Huge.” She opened her arms to the fullest and gesticulated, accidentally hitting Hamid’s forehead with one hand. “With all Richards books I could find at the library and bookshops too. Then I’d make a bonfire in front of his house. A massive one!” She gesticulated widely again and made whooshing sounds to represent the fire.

“Liz, that would take time and sounds exhausting, go back to the loving part. That’s where you should focus your energy,” Hamid suggested, opening his arms to an inviting hug. “Surround yourself with love.”

“I can help!” Briar chimed in, and Elizabeth turned around to face her. Hamid’s exasperated sigh could be heard on the other side of the room. “I know where to get a cart!”

“A cart. That’s perfect!”

“Right? The two of us, Lizzy,” – Briar’s hands danced between the two of them – “unstoppable. Our bonfire will put Guy Fawkes’ night to shame! We burn the books and toast marshmallows!”

“I love marshmallows! Oh! You’re the best,” Elizabeth moved closer, and they hugged each other. “I love you!”

“I love you too!”

“Jealous?” Annabelle whispered to Hamid, and he clicked his tongue.

“I’d rather hear a non-drunk confession,” he whispered back, “one she would remember later.”

“Wise,” she said and patted his shoulder.

The clock on the wall marked a quarter past 1am when the first chords of “Happier” blasted from Hamid’s mobile.

Elizabeth shrugged out of the knee-length yellow cardigan, oblivious to the disaster that followed its descent. It knocked down a glass and red wine spilled pooling over the surface of the table. Raising to her feet to dance with Annabelle and Luke, she managed so much as to stumble, bump one knee on the table, swear like a polite eight-year-old and fall back down.

“You’re sloshed,” Briar laughed, while placing napkins over the spilled drink.

“I’m not,” Elizabeth denied, though the way the room swayed betrayed her statement. “Maybe a bit tipsy... I just need to lie down for a sex... Sec!” They cackled at the slip up and Elizabeth lied down on the floor.

Picking up her cardigan before it got stained with wine, Hamid held his hands to her. “You’re not sleeping on the floor. I’ll take you to your room.”

She tried to stare at his face, but it was impossible with the light over his head doting him an angel-like bright halo.

“I’m not sleeping,” she said, unwilling to admit how tired she was or disappoint her friends, “I’m dancing.” Her hands moved wildly at the rhythm of the song, and she laughed.

“Then dance with me.”

Meeting his gaze, she agreed, and he helped her up. Encircling her waist with both arms, he steadied her and swayed gently, as if they were American teenagers at one of their high school dances. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it wasn’t what she meant by dancing.

“That’s not how you dance this song...” With a sudden squirm, she wiggled out of the embrace to demonstrate but her flats couldn’t find purchase in the rug.

Faster than the pull of gravity, Hamid prevented her from falling onto her buttocks again.

Briar mouthed something she couldn’t understand while Annabelle and Hamid spoke in hushed tones. She couldn’t understand a word they said but judging by the serious expressions on both their faces, she suspected it was about her.

“I’m not drunk!” she slurred, and Hamid turned his attention back to her, using one hand to take the hair away from her face.

“Of course not,” Hamid said softly, “You’re tired. It’s been a long day...”

“Yeah,” she sighed and waved him closer to whisper in his ear, “Is it impolite to go to bed before my guests?”

“Absolutely not. You can ask Annabelle, she’ll confirm. Besides, Edmund is here... He’s second-in-command.”

Settling this matter, she accepted his help, even though she wasn’t ready to part from him, still hoping she would muster the courage to steal a moment alone with him. Wobbling her way out of the room, she leaned on Hamid, wrapping her arms around his midsection, and giggled. This right there was happiness! No worries in her mind, and Hamid beside her.

Walking through the long and dimly lit corridor, Elizabeth kept singing and Hamid insisted that she remained quiet as a mouse. The best he got was a compromise in humming the songs instead of singing out loud.

Without any accidents or unwanted encounters with judgemental family members, they made into the main area, spotting the bright lights from the crystal chandelier downstairs. The family wing was just ahead, after the staircase, and he only needed to get her inconspicuous to her room. There were several doors on both sides of the hallway and Elizabeth stalled talking about random paintings and asking about his room instead.

“Which one, Liz?” he insisted using his lowest tone possible, and she blinked and tried to make her eyes focus on his face. “Is it this one?” He pointed at the first door on their right.

“I don’t know. What d’you think?”

“Not much, since I��ve never been to your room...” he chuckled and pulled her closer so she would not roam and stumble into a console table nearby, risking breaking one of her grandmother’s precious bibelots.

“Briar knows my room,” she said, “Let’s go back. And we can dance some more.”

Ignoring the arm holding her, she suddenly turned around and stumbled forward. Hamid caught her and couldn’t help giggling too. His apt fingers pulled the hair away from her face, and she could anticipate how close his lips were. But when her gaze focused on his face, she found neither the sight of his beautiful smile nor those bedroom eyes he had been generously offering her this evening. His eyes were wide, and he looked somehow shocked.

Did I do something wrong?

He wasn’t truly looking at her, she realized, but at something over her shoulder.

There was no time to ask anything. Hamid pushed her back into the corridor they came from. Looking over his shoulder, he pushed her into one of the small alcoves in the hallway, and her back hit the frame of the portrait of one of her ancestors while her mind raced.

Is that a portrait of Viscount Vincent, the one father was named after? Oh, wait! That’s not what I was supposed to think about! I need to ask what he’s doing. Is he about to kiss me?

The idea was suddenly too appealing. Her heart hammered inside her chest and her fingers closed around the soft fabric of the jumper, and she expected his lips to level with hers.

Instead of the expected pleasing touch of his mouth, a hand covered her puckered lips. Her eyes searched for an explanation, and with his free hand he pressed an index finger against his own lips to request her to be silent.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered into her ear, and her eyes widened. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs became too loud to ignore.

Was it grandmother coming back home? Her blood froze. The idea of being caught like a misbehaving teenager, almost sobered her up, until she remembered she wasn’t a teenager anymore. This was not like that one-time sneaking drunk into her friend Renata’s home without waking her mother. She’s old enough to drink. There’s nothing wrong going on – if you don’t consider the fact Hamid is acting odd and not kissing her when they are finally alone – and even the prim and proper lady Dominique gets a little tipsy from time to time and laughs in an unladylike fashion in the company of Mrs. Sinclaire and their friends – even though she prefers her granddaughter not to mention that fact.

However, Hamid seemed determined in his mission, even if it meant trying to hide them both in a place that could fit only half of her body and the light over the portrait was probably giving away their presence. But why would she protest when his entire body was pressed against hers like this?

Hamid’s chest heaved and his breath fanned her face. She looked up, trying to meet his gaze, but he was too focused on the incoming presence to notice her attempt at making flirty eye contact.

Hand still over her mouth, he whispered, “It’s your father.”

Somehow, he pressed even closer, no space left between them or the wall, and an involuntary urge to laugh grew inside her. As if reading her thoughts or the meaning behind the shake of her shoulders, Hamid’s eyes widened.

Looking over Hamid’s shoulder, she caught a glimpse of her father’s back, going up the stairs and straight towards his room. Fortunately, the sound of footsteps faded, and a door closed in the distance with a barely audible click.

His hand moved away, and her lips followed instinctively, but he didn’t seem to notice the aftereffect, still looking to where Lord Vincent disappeared.

“I’m sorry about that,” he said softly, his gaze flicking back to hers, “but I thought you wouldn’t want to meet anyone.”

“It’s okay,” she replied, the frame still pressed against her back.

“Let’s go back and–”

“Third door on the left!” she blurted out, suddenly wanting to get there as soon as possible.

“Are you positive?”

She pushed his chest freeing herself and pulled him by the hand. Hamid used his other hand to steady her while following her bouncing confident steps down the corridor.

When they reached the door, as a precaution to not end up bursting into the wrong room, Hamid asked to check if it was empty. Cracking the door just enough to let the hallway lights flood it, they both peeked inside.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“My room!”

“Not so loud,” he pleaded, and she held his hand again, pulling him inside with her. “Come in!”

His eyes roamed free for a few seconds, taking in the decorations and little details that distinguished the room from the others before the lights were dimmed. His gaze moved again, finding Elizabeth leaning against the desk with eyes barely opened.

“We’re here… alone…”

Were it anybody else, Hamid would have no doubt what that meant. But in Elizabeth’s case, he assumed the lights were hurting her eyes and her legs were faltering. And that’s the reason he offered to come and assist her through the night. She drank too much.

“Do you need help to –” Hamid stopped, thinking about the best phrasing in this situation. How to suggest aiding her in changing her clothes or taking her to the bathroom without sounding like a total creep? Freshen up, perhaps? Scratching the back of his head, he felt self-conscious about the entire situation. It was not often he needed to think through how to offer this kind of help to the utterly shy woman in front of him who takes his breath away even after an eleven-hour flight, with wrinkled clothes and messy hair. Maybe he shouldn’t have offered to come here in the first place. It’s different when it’s not one of your sisters you’ll offer help with this sort of thing.

The silence stretched and Elizabeth didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence, instead, she kicked her flats and said, “You owe me a dance.”

Fifteen minutes ago, she was asleep in his shoulder and now she had an urge to dance. How was that even possible?

Walking closer, she reached his hands and her fingers intertwined with his. Her hips swayed from side to side in the rhythm of a mysterious tune she hummed.

“Don’t you prefer to go to bed?”

“Are you trying to bed me?” she tried to wink suggestively but slowly blinked instead.

He laughed, considering what sober Elizabeth would think about this phrasing and exchange.

“Right now,” he said as softly as the touch of his hand on her arm, “my only concern is the hangover you’ll have.”

“Chato! Muito chato![5]” She poked his chest. “You are spoiling the fun, mister Osmanoğlu.”

Holding a laughter, he walked away and filled a glass with water and brought back to her.

“First, drink this. Then we dance.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Please. You’ll thank me later.”

Her eyes flicked from Hamid’s face to the glass, and she gulped the whole content. With the sleeve of her blouse, she wiped the water running down her chin, and he refrained from using his thumb to remove the remaining drops underneath her lower lip, and removed the glass from her hand.

“I’ll bring another glass. It’ll help with the hangover...”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not drunk!” she huffed in protest.

“I have a feeling you'll need aspirins too. Do you have any?”

“I don’t know...” she shrugged.

“Can I take a look around?”

“Are we dancing now?” she asked following him, and he held her arms gently.

“Stay here,” he helped her sit on the bed, “very still until I come back.”

“Are you leaving me?”

“Just for a second. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Everybody says that, and they lie,” she sighed, closing her eyes, and let her body fall back on the bed.

The en-suite was his best shot at finding medicines, therefore he began his search there.  

When Elizabeth’s eyes fluttered open, she was alone in the room. Dragging her feet, she managed to reach the wardrobe and pick a load of clothes, which were thrown at the bed. With little effort, the long-sleeved blouse was pulled over her head, and she was too focused working on removing her pants to notice the footsteps returning from the en-suite.

“I've found the aspirins,” Hamid announced while walking into the room. The unexpected sight of Elizabeth half-undressed caused him to stop suddenly, and he almost dropped the glass of water. “Why are you striping?” he gaped, and immediately turned around.

“Hamid!” she cried and stumbled back on the bed, jeans freed from her foot and flying over her head. The mobile inside her pocket tumbled to the ground with a dull thump. “I’m changing,” she said sitting on the bed, and folding her arms in front of her chest to cover herself.

“You should have warned me.”

“You were gone.” Getting up, she pulled the plaided pants up, and hopped once to adjust it.

“I told you I was looking for aspirins.” Sighing, he placed the glass on the nightstand and peeked over his shoulder, after she kept mumbling unintelligible words in Portuguese.

“Do you need help?” he asked without looking at her, and definitely not peeking at the pink lacy bra whose sight his brain was too fast to imprint.

“I need only to take my bra. Don’t turn around!”

“No! Leave the bra! Please!” Back turned to her, his gaze fixed on the ceiling.  

“But it’s uncomfortable...”

“You just take pleasure in torturing me, don’t you?” he asked looking up and she didn’t know if he was talking to her or to God.

“Just a second…”

She finally unclasped the hooks and did her best to slip the straps off her shoulders, and pulled it from inside one sleeve and then the other, and finally removed it from underneath her shirt and hid in the pile of clothes.

“You’re absolutely killing me here, Liz!”

“Okay... I’m done.”

Hamid looked at her, and even though the pink plaid shirt of the pyjamas was buttoned incorrectly with a few buttons missing the right holes, she looked stunning with her long hair cascading down her shoulders. Getting up from the bed, she danced around the room in fuzzy socks, slowly getting closer to where he was standing. He couldn’t hide the smile when she pulled a complex set of steps without stumbling once.

“Dance with me?” she asked, offering her hand and a small smile, and he accepted. “We need a song!” she announced and started patting her legs. “What’s wrong with these pockets?”

“There are none. You changed.”

“Right! Give me your mobile!”

He obliged, depositing his mobile in her palm, but not without remarking that she was a very bossy drunk. Her fingers moved over the screen, and she stared at it in confusion.

“You do it,” she said returning the mobile, “I can’t read Turkish...”

“It’s in English. And the icons look the same...”

His fingers glided quickly over the screen, searching for a mellow song to lull her to sleep. After considering the options in one of his “date night playlists”, he selected ‘Sunrise’ by Norah Jones. He hit play and placed the phone over the nightstand, returning to where she was standing.

The melody and the singer’s soft voice filled the room, and Hamid placed his hands gently on her waist.

“This is nice,” she said softly, and he agreed.

Unexpectedly, she closed the distance he had purposefully put between them by throwing her arms around his shoulders. Tilting her face up, she nuzzled his neck, and his heartbeat picked up.

Taking a deep breath, her perfume invaded his nostrils. When the tip of her nose brushed against his sensitive skin on a path to his jaw, he shivered, overwhelmed by the sensations her closeness stirred. He could no longer hear the music, only focusing on their breathing.

When his eyes fluttered open, Elizabeth was on her tiptoes, a hand on his shoulder for support, and determination in her eyes. Deflecting her attempt to kiss him, he tilted his face up, but she rested a hand on his cheek and tried again.

Grabbing her hands with gentleness, he rested them on her sides and pulled away, being met by her offended glare.

“What's wrong, Hamid?” she mumbled, “Have you changed your mind?”

“Liz, you are drunk,” he whispered.

“And I really want to kiss you.”

These words, he has been wanting to hear them for weeks, but he cannot let himself trust in them now, not when she is inebriated like this. His heart aches with the disappointment in her eyes when he doesn't allow her to approach.

His next words are chosen carefully.

“If you'll still feel the same way tomorrow, say one word and we'll kiss until we're both out of breath.”

Her lower lip quivered, and she averted her gaze. “What if this is the only way I can tell you that?”

He cradled her face and tilted it up so she could look into his smiling eyes. “Our first kiss should be special and memorable, like what we have, and not a drunken whim... I have a feeling we’ll talk about it for the years to come… and I believe this is not the first kiss we deserve nor the story you’ll want to tell…”

Lowering her eyes, her cheeks were reddened by embarrassment and he gently kissed her forehead.

“We have time. And if you don’t mind, I still wish to dance with you.”

Elizabeth allowed him to encircle her waist and bring her closer again. While they swayed slowly, her face rested on his chest and her hands moved up and down his back. Her shoulders shook with her giggles and Hamid could not refrain his curiosity anymore. Pulling away, he looked down at her face. “What is so funny, canım benim[6]?”

“Your jumper is so soft. I like it.”

“I’m pleased that you do.”

“Take it off.”

“Excuse me?” he stopped swaying completely and stared at her.

“I want to borrow it. It seems so warm...”

“You want to undress me to borrow my clothes?” She nodded. “That’s... rather unexpected. It’s the first time I receive such a proposition...”

“Can I have it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“I have a feeling, if I lent you, I’ll have to clean it from vomit and it’s a brand new and very expensive jumper.”

She pouted, but he remained firm.

“Then I crave to see your…” she said, gesticulating vaguely in front of his chest, “body... Show me.”

“It’s too late to objectify me.” He twirled her and deftly pulled her back to his chest, and she snuggled. “I’m sure we can find something as soft as this one in your own closet. Are you cold?”

Yawning, Elizabeth rested her head against his chest, just as he wished.

Taking the cue, he slow-danced her towards the bed and helped her sit down.

“Will you stay?” He nodded, and she smiled. “Good. I want to lay my head on your chest.”

“The jumper. I got it.” He said while collecting the clothes splayed on the bed to put over the desk.

Giggling, she crawled to the middle of the bed and threw a glance at him over her shoulder. “It’s not the only reason.”

Pulling the covers up, she invited him, and Hamid’s eyes fixed at the ceiling and a string of foreign words left his mouth.

“Is that your prayer before bed?”

A huff escaped his nose, and he smiled. “Sort of...”

Taking off his shoes and his jumper, he sat on the edge of the bed and turned off all the lights, except the lamps on the nightstands. He looked at her over his shoulder and laid on the bed over the covers. Elizabeth quickly moved closer and rested her head on his chest. His steady heartbeats pounding beneath her palm.

“This is nice,” she whispered, “Are you comfy?”

“Very much,” he replied, playing with the curls of her long hair.

“Good. It’s important to keep guests comfy. That’s what my grandmother always says.”

“I cannot picture her ever saying comfy, but alright.”

She chuckled and the laughter merged into muffled sounds against his chest.

“I didn’t understand a word you said, Liz.”

“Which bone did you break?”

“Bones. Left arm, the tips of two toes on my left foot and the big toe on the right foot –” he lifted his right hand and brought closer to her face “– and this little finger here.”

“How?”

“Skating, football and trying to teach myself an ancient martial art.”

She took his hand in hers and observed his fingers. “Which martial art?”

“I tried to break wood like Bruce Lee.”

Her head shook when she giggled, and her hair tickled his arm, Hamid couldn’t imagine a more delightful sound coming from her mouth. Actually, he could, but he pushed the idea away.

“How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“Aw... So, baby!” she said with a baby voice, and adjusted herself on the bed to look him in the eye. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Excuse me?”

“The last question. Why picking the dare if you have nothing to hide?”

“Don’t you know?” he asked softly, “My answer was obvious to everyone present, but it would make you more uncomfortable. And I didn’t want that...”

“Oh,” she gasped. “Sorry. I didn’t… Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I... I don’t know… I… you were cold because of me.”

“I didn’t mind. And you rewarded me with plenty of attention… I think it was more than worthy it. Now, sleep. Goodnight, aşkım[7],” he said softly and kissed the top of her head.

“What did you say?”

“Goodnight, Liz.”

“That’s not what you said.”

“All that alcohol is disturbing your hearing.”

Ten minutes later, she was snoring with a hand over his chest. He held and kissed her hand before removing it. Considering she'll probably need to go to the bathroom and bathe, it was probably for the best to text Annabelle and propose her to change places with him. Carefully, Hamid lifted her arm and moved his legs first, his feet soundless touching the carpeted floor. When he stood up, her voice sounded hoarse behind him.

“Don’t go, Hamid. Please.”

Her face was illuminated by the soft light from the lamp. With her eyes closed, she reached for the pillow he had been lying on and held it tight. “I don’t want to be alone,” she mumbled, “I’m tired of being alone.”

Notes:

[1] Dede – Turkish word that means grandfather.

[2] Dayi – Turkish word that means uncle from the mother’s side of the family.

[3] Yok artık – Turkish – similar in this context to “No way”.

[4] O quê? – Portuguese – means "What?"

[5] Chato! Muito chato! – Portuguese – it means boring! Very boring!

[6] Canım benim – Turkish – term of endearment that means “my soul” or in the context “my dear”.

[7] Aşkım – Turkish – used as a term of endearment “my love”.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Desire & Decorum 2023 Masterlist

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+

January 2023

The Cursed Heiress (Series) | Prince Hamid x F!OC, Ernest Sinclaire x F!OC, etc. - @noesapphic Chapter 16: Once Upon a Time ✒️Ⓜ️

The Damned Daughter (Series) | F!OC x M!OC - @noesapphic Part Five: Never My Love ✒️Ⓜ️

Second Chances (Series) | Prince Hamid x F!OC - @missameliep Chapter 23: Racing Hearts ✒️

The Vindictive Countess | Countess Henrietta, Earl Vincent Foredale - @noesapphic ✒️

February 2023

The Detective & The Businessman (Series) | Ernest Sinclaire x MC @noesapphic Chapter 4 ✒️Ⓜ️

Barcelona ✒️| Prince Hamid x F!MC - @noesapphic

The Detective and the Businessman (Series) | Ernest Sinclaire x F!OC - @noesapphic Chapter 5 ✒️

March 2023

Unspoken Desires (Series) | F!MC - @princess-geek Chapter 10: Chronicles of the Heart ✒️

Love and Loss ✒️| Ernest Sinclaire, F!OC - @noesapphic

The Other Woman ✒️| Ernest Sinclaire, F!OC, Duke Richards @noesapphic

Second Chances (Series) | Prince Hamid x F!OC - @missameliep Chapter 24: The Undeniable Truth ✒️Ⓜ️

Life of a Spare ✒️ | Edmund Marlcaster x Briar Daly - @noesapphic

The Tatletale's Mask ✒️| Theresa Sutton x Harry Foredale - @noesapphic

May 2023

The Cursed Heiress (Series) | Ernest Sinclaire x F!OC - @noesapphic Chapter 17: A New Dawn ✒️Ⓜ️

September 2023

For Love & Duty (Series) ✒️ | Ernest Sinclaire x F!OC - @noesapphic Chapter 4: The King's Consent

October 2023

Vincent Foredale, Earl of Edgewater – The man behind the title  ✒️ - @princess-geek

December 2023

But I must admit…I can’t wait…to see your mother… 🎨| Vincent Foredale, F!MC - @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Clara Slaying Richards 🎨 Ⓜ️| Duke Richards, Briar Daly, F!MC by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd (C: @lilyoffandoms)

Ernest Sinclaire x MC Fanart 🎨 by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Hers to Take ✒️Ⓜ️| Ernest Sinclaire x F!OC - @noesapphic

Luke Harper Fanart 🎨 by @oh-so-youre-a-nerd

Our Last Hope ✒️| Ernest Sinclaire x MC - @kinda-iconic

[thelittlecookiecat]

Desire and Decorum Book 1, Chapter 10

Part 5

[thelittlecookiecat]

Desire and Decorum Chapter 13

Part 2

[choicesficwriterscreations]

February 14-20

Blades of Light and Shadow

Just Kiss | Mal Volari x F!Human!MC - @storyofmychoices​

Man’s Best Friend | Mal Volari x F!Human!MC, Threep - @storyofmychoices​​

Bloodbound

Bound by Destiny II, part 2 | Kamilah Sayeed x MC - @clansayeed​​  [adult content]

Chapter 8: The Advantages

Pieces Of The Past series - @itslaniquelove​

Chapter XXXIX | Scholar Jameson, Kamilah Sayeed, Gaius Augustine, F!OC, Adrian Raines

The Stranger By His Side: Part II | Adrian Raines x MC - @otherworldlypresents​

An Untrodden Lane series | Adrian Raines x F!OC - @former-westchester-resident​

Chapter 5

Desire & Decorum

Meant To Be series - @lorirwritesfanfic​  [adult content]

Traditions Way Too Old | Hamid x MC (Daphne), Edmund Marlcaster x Briar Daly, Edmund Marlcaster x Theresa Sutton

Unspoken Desires series - @princess-geek​

Cheecky Monkey | F!OC, Ernest Sinclaire 

The Dark Side Of The Moon | Ernest Sinclaire, M!OC, Vincent Foredale [adult content]

Distant Shores

A Ring For You | Edward Mortemer x F!MC - @ethanramseysrookiexox​

Hot Couture

Serendipity | Hazel Nguyen x F!MC - @mortemersgf​

Mother Of The Year

Spontaneous Takeaway Nights | Thomas Mendez x MC - @ethanramseysrookiexox​

The Nanny Affair

Going Out | M!Sam Dalton x MC - @thefrenchiemama​

Mistakes | M!Sam Dalton x MC - @thefrenchiemama​​

Open Heart

Platinum

What Was That??? | M!Avery Wilshere x MC - @ethanramseysrookiexox​​ [adult content]

Red Carpet Diaries

Thomas Hunt x MC drabble - @theartoflovingthomashunt​​

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Can I Be Him | Drake Walker x Hana Lee - @shewillreadyou​​ [adult content]

Housewarming Heart To Heart | Drake Walker, MC - @sfb123​​

Role Play | Liam Rys x MC - @shewillreadyou​​  [adult content]

Sapere Aude: Part 7 | Liam Rys x MC- @sfb123​​ [adult content]

Uncle Drake And His Royal Valentine | Drake Walker, Crown Princess - @sfb123​​

The Will Of Insanity | Drake Walker x Olivia Nevrakis - @former-westchester-resident​​ [adult content]

Crossovers

Open Heart/The Royal Romance

So Close: Part 6 | Ethan Ramsey x TRR MC, Liam Rys x TRR MC - @callmeellabella​​

The Royal Romance/Rules of Engagement

The Twisted Tale | Liam Rys, Leo Rys, TRR MC - @twinkleallnight​​  [adult content]

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Sunday Six Highlights #10

@genevievemd

Love You Home | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC 

@khoicesbyk

Second Chance Romance | Marquise a.k.a. Liam Rys x MC 

@lucy-268

Untitled WIP | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC, Ethan Ramsey x F!OC

@pixie88

Untitled WIP | M!Sam Dalton x MC winter wip alert ❄️

@princess-geek

Untitled WIP | MC, Briar Daly, Harry Foredale, Annabelle Parson, Theresa Sutton and Luke Harper

@trappedinfanfiction WIPs

Fast Break - Third Quarter | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Life is Short (Detective AU) - Prologue | Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

@waywardromancefantasygirl

Queen of Hearts | Liam Rys x F!OC, Leo Rys x F!OC

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Sunday Six Highlights #40

@bebepac WIPs 

Leave Me Snow-Lone (Chapter 6 of The Life Of Riley: Book Two) | Liam Rhys x MC

Unfurled (Part 5 of The Days The Earth Stood Still) | TRR MC x M!OC, Olivia Nevrakis x Leo

@bruhttercup 

Untitled WIP | Gabe Ricci x F!MC

@jerzwriter

Chapter 12 of Delaying The Inevitable | Ethan Ramsey, Tobias Carrick 

@lorirwritesfanfic​ WIPS

Bubble (Chapter 25 of Meant To Be) | Hamid x MC

Discoveries (Chapter 14 of the The Rebel) | Leo Rys x Hana Lee

@lucy-268 

Untitled WIP | Tobias Carrick x f!MC - [adult content] vacation wip alert 🌞

@mynotsohealthyobsession WIPs

Untitled WIP | Adrian Raines x MC

Untitled WIP | Adrian Raines x MC

Untitled WIP | Thomas Mendez x MC [adult content] 

@phoenixrising308 WIPs

What They Stole From Us | Liam Rys x MC

I Got This | Liam Rys, Olivia Nevrakis, MC

Amici | Liam Rys x MC [adult content] 

@princess-geek 

Cellar Confessions | MC|OC; Briar Daly; Annabelle Parsons; Donna Bowman; Theresa Sutton; Harry Foredale.

@thequeenofpixels 

New Memories | Rafael Aveiro x F!MC vacation wip alert 🌞

[lorirwritesfanfic]

Permanent tag: @smalltalk88 @annekebbphotography @indiacater @hopefulmoonobject @mfackenthal @darley1101 @blackcatkita @rainbowsinthestorm @aworldoffandoms @desireepow-1986 @ab1901 @choicesgremlin @allaboutchoices @xxrainbow-princessxx

D&D tag: @missameliep  @symonde @choicesyouplayandmore @referencees

Meant To Be masterlist

From Lovers To Something Else - Part 3

Author’s note: Second to last past of this chapter. Not an easy one btw. Thanks to my friend @missameliep​​ for beta reading it again ❤ [All characters are owned by Pixelberry Studios] Book: Desire & Decorum (modern-day AU) Pairing: Ernest Sinclaire x MC (Daphne) Rating: E Word count: 3313 Summary: Daphne gets involved in another scandal and its consequences may change her life completely.

Warning: This piece contains psychological issues (cyberbullying, mentions of slut-shaming) which may be disturbing/offensive for some people. Reader discretion is advised.

Late May 2018

Mornings were quiet at the earl of Edgewater estate. Lord Vincent usually had a cup of Earl Grey or coffee at his office at home in the company of his stepson, then joined the rest of the family for a peaceful breakfast (since most days, the Countess sleeps in) if they didn’t have any appointments or early meetings to attend. Daphne also had the habit of waking up early. But instead of tea or coffee, she ate a few pieces of pears, apples and any other fruits that she could share with her pug before taking him for a walk. After she received her title and was pointed as the first in line to take her father’s place when he resigns, she made sure to return in time to have a moment with her father and stepbrother and learn more about politics, business and leading the county.

Continuar lendo

[h-doodles]

my name is...

Relationship: Briar Daly/Theresa Sutton

Count: 2,032 words

Special thanks to @lesbian-choices, who brought this pairing to our attention back at the gaychoices discord. This one’s for you, wlws!

Tag: @jellymonster, @h-doodles, @deeohno, @lesbianvalgreaves, @samira-yazdi, @letmeloveasterplease, @wlwchoices, @al-servo, @badbitchkennarys, @davenportandbrandy, @dumbbrowngirl, @imissmaxwell, @sapphic-legends, @kaitlynliaoswife, @i-stan-shaylex-and-love-ame, @megowitch, @alanakusumaswife, @westchesters, 

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