Whenever I think about Meng Po Tea referring to the young master as "Lycoris" instead of "Master", while the master refers Meng Po Tea as "Sweetheart" instead of "Heartless", I go
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Courting Danger
@sharp-teeth-and-wide-grins continued from X
Careless words amble free of Rose’s far too spirited tongue. Immediately in their wake, her mother’s voice clouds her thoughts. She ought to be ashamed and thoroughly admonished for her haphazard ventures. Crimson lashes flitter downwards attempting to partially conceal the sheer terror housed in cerulean orbs. Her errant confession did not come without turbulent trepidation which, directly transfers into porcelain hands. Hands that had nowhere to hide the penting up nervous energy.
The socialite doesn’t even realize that her suffocated apology, along with her next inhale, had snared somewhere in the corridors of her throat. That is, until her lungs began to scorch. His calm voice dispells the plague of restlessness, bringing a foreign stillness to the turbulence inside of Rose. Her eyes snap upwards.
“Rose,” she whispers, praying that he’d see fit to use it. “Please.” Dewitt-Bukater belongs to her overbearing mother and deceased father. It is little more than a shadow; a stone anchor tethered about her throat dragging her towards death. A destination she no longer reaches for with the same desperation, thanks to his eternal kindness. So she opts to bridge familiarity with the Major who had rescued her. “To... To court me?” She parrots, almost numbly before the meaning sinks in. No one had ever dared to seek her permission nor her opinion. Cal had always been assertive, taking command of every choice in her life. Major Hewlett was giving her a choice. The surprising commentary nearly causes a laugh to tumble through her parted lips. Just as she is about to reply, his words once more cause a hush to fall over her.
A gentle hand? Astonishment warps Rose’s features and her eyes begin to flood. It was impressive how very different he was to Hockley who believed only in ironed-willed leadership with a forceful hand. He left her in control of nothing. It was bend to his will or be made to bend to his will. Words twist, sticking untactfully to the roof of her mouth. She has always been told that she needed a man who will order her every step, no matter how suffocating the promise of that was.
With her cerulean orbs still fixated upon him, she ventures a step closer. Freedom is now in her grasp, if only she will reach out and clutch it. Shattered, Rose’s breath dispels over the plump curve of her lip. It is hedged with the anxiety of making her own choices intermingled with a new-found confidence. That’s what the major did for her. He restored her faith in humanity, in herself. He didn’t make her feel like a burdensome imbecile or hapless child. She was intelligent and whole. Smiling, she offers her reply with a bashfully dipped head. “I had, until this very moment, been wishing for something I knew I could never have.” Lifting her head slightly, she continued, “that is you.” This moment felt far too blissfully wonderful to be true. “I don’t remember what it is like to court anyone. So, if you will find it in yourself to be patient with me, I should love to give it a shot.” With her words, Rose realizes just how oppressive Hockley’s reign had been. That she hardly knows who she is apart from the cruel man’s shadow. What if she’d be found unworthy of the Major? What if she only deserved a wealthy tyrant? She shakes her head of crimson coils softly. Her mother’s voice could not be the only one taking up space in her mind. Rose had no need for abundant wealth, nor for polite society; both money and the company of the upper echelon were overrated. She couldn’t be subjected to more brainless parties and cotillions or she’d just about jump into the frozen Sound.
A trembling hand reaches for his arm. “I can offer you nothing.” Rose mournfully reveals. Oh, how her mother would be mortified if such knowledge was gifted a suitor. The Dewitt-Bukater name was little more than a hollow, penniless legacy though they still gave off airs of prosperity. The charade was more to preserve her mother’s standing than bolster her own. “I come to you destitute and with sullied reputation. I can’t even cook or clean very well---” If he was taking a leap of faith being honest with her, she felt she must do the same for him. But she did have one thing working in her favor. Or well, she hoped she had one good thing in her favor. A thing known as loyalty. At least, towards those who treat her with respect. All of society would talk. Yet, Rose knew the gossip would abound anyways. She abandoned Hockley at the alter in York City and ran. Rose ran so far that the grasp society held on her could be shaken.
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Eddie mumbles something about how he's always wanted to try it and kisses Steve in the Upside Down because he figures he's gonna be dead in a minute, so its whatever. Tragically rolls a 1 on that plan. Crit fails his plan so hard that he ends up surviving what the doctors kept insisting should have been fatal blood loss.
Eventually, despite his requests to the nurses and to Wayne that he not have to see Steve, the guy manages to get through, late at night when the others were at home in bed.
Steve looks serious, forehead creasing, and awkward as hell. Uncomfortable. Eddie isn't an idiot, so he spotted Robin years ago. As close as those two are, Eddie knows that Steve must know about her, and must be cool with it. But its different when its not a lack of attraction, but an unwanted one.
Steve asks, tensely, with careful words, why Eddie kissed him, and what he meant when he said he always wanted to try it.
Eddie doesn't lie.
'I didn't want to die without ever kissing someone.'
'And... I was the only one around who wasn't 14.'
Steve exhales and his shoulders relax, and the only thing Eddie can label that as is relief. He doesn't ask any more questions, and he leaves Eddie alone for the most part, even after Eddie leaves the hospital. Whenever they're in the same place though - parties, hangouts, the kids - Eddie can feel him looking. He never catches him. Steve reacts too fast, but Eddie knows he's watching him. He tries, he forces himself to keep his comments fiercely platonic. Perfectly heterosexual. He's successful.
So is Steve. Eddie doesn't catch him staring, so Eddie never sees how Steve looks at him.
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21 September 2014
Vice Admiral Sir Tim Laurence and Princess Anne at The Whatley Manor International Horse Trails at Gatcombe Park
© David Hartley
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