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nashibirne · 4 years

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Untitled / Against all odds - Part 2.2

Here’s the next part of my little story. Still untitled found a name!

I have given the MC a name now because it feels so impersonal to only write “she” all the time. So meet Anna, but feel free to insert any other name if you want to.

Against all odds - Part 2.2

Part 2.1

Part 1

Henry Cavill x mc / reader

Summary: it’s a mess

Warnings: none

Unbeta'ed

*****

After throwing his heart at her feet out of the blue Henrys knees felt so wobbly he had to lean against the wall in his living room. “Breath, Cavill. Calm down. Calm. Down.” Catching his breath again he sat down on his couch, where Kal joined him, falling asleep immediately. He had no idea what had come over him to tell her what he just had. It was all true of course. Every damn word had come from the bottom of his heart. He had thought about confessing his feelings for her multiple times. And the way he had done it 10 minutes ago had never been one of the possible scenarios. According to his plans it would have been a little more subtle. Much more romantic. On a date maybe, if he had ever found the courage to ask her out. Candlelight, nice music, a decent dinner, hands touching, laughing, flirting, deep looks in each other’s eyes. A few tender words. A confession. A kiss. Hot passionate sex optional.

But no…he had to hammer it home to her.

Hey…listen, babe…I never asked you out or anything, ‘cause I’m scared as fuck ‘bout my feelings for you…but hey…now that I still don’t know if I’m possibly your type…let me get this straight…I literally love everything about you…let me serve you my heart on a silver plate…

FUCK. He banged the back of his head on the wall behind him a few times. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. He was screwed.

Usually he was good at these things. Flirting. Dating. Sex. Relationships. No problem. He knew the ladies love him and he wasn’t shy. So if he liked a woman he normally pulled out all the stops and started flirting. If she flirted back he would ask her out and the rest ran by itself.

But Anna was different. She had been resistant to his charms all along. Wether she didn’t even realize that he was flirting with her or if she just didn’t care. The result was always the same. He flirted, she laughed it off. End of story.

And that did something to him. It made him insecure. Was he her type at all? What kind of men did she like. He didn’t know much about her ex Lestat. They had been together for 14 years. He was a solicitor or a notary. Or both. He didn’t quite get it when Anna mentioned it once. Whatever. So he was smart. And sophisticated. He knew that much from the few times Anna had talked about him. The kind of guy who takes his girlfriend to the opera. Theater. Ballet. Art exhibitions. Readings.

Henry was quite sure that Anna was attracted by brain much more than by muscles. Maybe she didn’t like his beefy body. It wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea.

Not that he was stupid or uncultivated. He got his education at a private boarding school. He was one of the drama class geeks. He had an exceedingly good general knowledge. But compared to the other men in Annas life he sometimes felt inferior and that nagged on him.

There was this guy for example she always mentioned. Milton Arnold. Viscount Brankhurst. Their mother’s had been best friends and their families were still very close. And Milton seemed to be a Saint. Milton held a ball for charity. Milton tried to run his castle climate-neutral. Milton only did organic farming on his estate. He wouldn’t be surprised if Milton even managed to feed the world and stop all wars. And to make things even worse Saint Milton was single and quite attractive. He knew because he had googled him. Successful entrepreneur/gentleman farmer/climate activist with his pockets full of money and a heart of gold. One of the most eligible bachelors in England or maybe in the whole UK. Milton Arnold made him want to puke.

But there was no use in self-pitty. The damage was done. His only hope was that she returned his feelings. That his words would encourage her to make a move too. Now it was her turn. She had to react somehow after all. It would take him less than 24 hours to find out he was completely wrong.

*****

Around the same time when Henry was trying to think straight again by hammering his head on a wall, Anna was sitting at the desk in her office, that was actually the castle’s beautiful library, completely at a loss of what to think about Henrys words.

She should have been working on some statistics but she simply wasn’t able to. She couldn’t help but think about what had just happened. Henry’s words echoed in her mind, making no sense to her. Without any doubt he had described her. As his type. His words came close to a declaration of love. But that was insane. It couldn’t be true, could it?

Had he flirted with her before? Of course. But he did that with every woman. So she had always laughed it off. He was a true ladie’s man, a charmer. Even Mrs Brown, Braxton Castle’s aloof housekeeper, couldn’t resist him. This tough woman in her late fifties, notorious for her discipline and strictness, blushed like a schoolgirl when he complimented her. And he did that often. Every time he came to the castle for a visit he took his time to have a little chat with her. And each and every time Mrs Brown started to bloom like a cherrytree in spring.

No, no, no. It must have been a joke. Maybe he had realized that she had this tiny little crush on him. And maybe this was his way of turning her down carefully? By means of exaggeration. By making it sound so funny and unlikely. When she thought about it… Her “darkblond curls” were always a mess because these unmanageable locks never did what she wanted them to do. Her “sensual lips”…she wondered where that came from. She had never liked her mouth. It was too small for her face and her lips were…well…ordinary lips. Not sensual at all. And then…“perfect curves”. She couldn’t see it this way. When she looked into the mirror she saw a big ass and flabby thighs with cellulite. Her breasts were all right but at 36 not as firm as they used to be. How should it be possible that a man like Henry, literally a superman, shredded and fit to the core, could like her body.

Heavens, she was so confused. And then she decided to do something she had never done before because it had always felt wrong and unfair. It still did. But she couldn’t resist any longer. She opened Google on her notebook and typed “Henry Cavill ex girlfriends”. The result of her search was devastating. There were many exes. And every single one of them was attractive and talented. Long sleek hair, small, slim, well-trained bodies, beautiful faces. A stuntwoman, a professional showjumper, a student, an actress and so on and so forth. None of them older than 30. All flawless and radiant at public events and on red carpets. Nothing she could ever compete with.

With a sigh she closed her notebook. The decision was made. She would erase this morning’s event from her memory. Act like nothing had ever happened. She would bury her feelings for Henry deep down inside and most of all she would accept that he was out of her league. She was luckey enough to call Henry a good friend. What more could she even ask for?

******

Thanks for reading. I would love to hear your opinion.

@hell1129-blog

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc

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