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be-dazzled · 4 years

Text

The Art of Falling

Chapter III CONSISTENCY IS KEY

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here | Taglist

Writer’s Corner: OKAY so I hid an Easter egg in there. Hint: Anime only, related to Juvia. Can you guys guess? Ahahaha. And, oh, I should put the writer’s corner after the story but oh well, let me know what you think of the couple I added in here. Also, I really hope Gray’s cousin is a character you will all like. I love her! Also, dayum period romance really don’t use everyday conversation english, do they? Show me some love. :*

Masterlist

The morning began with the entire Fullbuster household personally attending to the arrival of Lord Silver Fullbuster's beloved niece and her respectable husband. Gray abandoned his wish to come and pay the Locksers a visit to welcome his cousin, Ultear Vastia née Milkovich. She was travelling with her family: her husband Lyon and their daughter Ur, named after her deceased mother. The Vastia couple frequented the Fullbuster Manor, in the fall, when Mr. Vastia's business affairs lulled; they spend a week or so at the mansion, to keep Lady Mika some company. This fall, they arrived with a welcomed addition to their growing family, a six-month old little Ur whom the Lord and the Lady has taken quite the fondness of.

Lunch was spent exchanging stories of the great adventure that was raising little Ur, who the Lord and the Lady came to know, liked to slumber in the day and refused to allow her parents any sleep in the night. So, as soon as the little one awakened, Lord and Lady Fullbuster has taken it upon themselves to entertain the little eyes and insisted on keeping Ur company, while suggesting heavily to their son that it was a good time as any to practice. The young couple stayed behind at the drawing room, kept entertained by Grayden Fullbuster as he played a classical tune on the pianoforte.

Lyon joined his wife on the sofa and brought with him a bottle of fine wine from Lord Silver's cellar. He poured a generous serving in his wife's glass, knowing fully how Ultear missed her night caps.

"Would it be safe to do that?" Gray inquired without taking his eyes off the piano keys. As far as he was aware, drinking alcohol was discouraged upon mothers who breastfed.

"My doctor assured me one, occasional drink would not hurt." reasoned Ultear. "But enough about me. Why shan't we talk about you?" Yet the lady felt obliged to put her glass down after a long sip, then, returned to her husband's warm embrace. "I heard you are frequenting a certain household."

"And whom have you heard this information from?" As part of his noble upbringing, Gray had learned to play the piano as early as he could command his fingers. On the night's occasion, he chose "Air", a classic he had played far too many times, that his fingers knew where to land before he even thought of it.

"A man with a stature and fortune as yours? News travel fast, my dear cousin."

Gray allowed his company a small smile but paid them no more attention as the young pianist fell deeply into his song; only his mellow but pronounced melody filled the silence that befell the room, much to Mrs. Vastia's chagrin.

"Have you set your heart on a Lockser?"

"There are talks about the eldest Lockser's beauty. How it is comparable to that of Helen." Lyon chose that moment to put in a word into the conversation, associating with Miss Lockser the woman of Troy, whose beauty had launched a thousand ships. With Ultear's sharp eyes narrowed at him, Lyon quickly corrected himself before he invoked the ire of his wife. "But only because you, my beautiful wife, had already conceded to marriage."

Lyon bade his time, put on a forged smile turned troubled by the second, until his wife released his beseeching stare and Mr. Vastia could finally breathe relief. She placed a hand on his cheek and lovingly patted a hand on hit.

"I trained you well."

Gray dexterously quickened the tempo of his tune. Oblivious to the unabashed display of affection between the married man and woman, he closed his eyes, pictured the black and white keys clearly in his mind and swayed to the rhythm of his personal version of Air on G String.

"Gray, are you choosing to ignore me?"

"I know better not to."

"Very well. Now, do I have to wrestle the information out of you?"

A single note stretched on before Gray abruptly ended his tune and abandoned his playing. He sighed in defeat and accepted the fact that he was not going to finish the song. What great disrespect to the legendary J.S. Bach. He turned on his seat and addressed the couple holding each other closely on the daybed; the light from the fireplace danced on their feature. Although Lyon and Ultear were married for a year and had conceived a child of their own, Gray was still of the opinion that such display of affection should be shared only in the privacy of their home.

"I admit to the fact that I am seeking a maiden's hand in marriage."

Gray had said it in a tone so solemn that the couple wanted to laugh at its absurdity. In the end, however, seeing no humor in Gray's expression, the answer piqued the couple's interest, Ultear's more than her husband's, that she broke contact from him to devote her attention to her dearest cousin.

"And that maiden's name is?"

"Ms. Juvia Lockser."

The couple exchanged a bewildered look. Gray, however, had no single inkling on what possibly caused his visitors to respond in such a way. He had not any idea that in their little circle, as much as in every household in that town, there was only one Lockser daughter worth mentioning and it was not the name he had given them. But from the hundreds of questions running about in their heads, there was only one Ultear found worth inquiring.

"Is it true then that she left you beaten out in the cold?"

---

"I am flattered that my poor situation could offer you some amusement."

If Lyon Vastia was not a friend from the University and the husband of his beloved cousin, Gray ought to boot him out of Magnolia and back to where he came from. Gray was not one to abuse his power and influence but with how the married man had laughed at him from the Manor all the way to the Lockser House, there was no nerve left of him undisturbed.

"My apologies." The gentleman did not even pretend to try and stifle the chuckles erupting from him. "But this is the best news I've received since the birth of my child." Lyon fixed his coat around him, trying and failing to gather himself as they waited outside the Locksers' door. For he knew Gray was not one inclined to violence; yet, his was a story to be told for generations to come – of how the gentleman was knocked out cold by his future wife.

"Kindly keep your amusement to yourself. Do not embarrass me."

Gray knocked on the door once again, careful not to startle the inhabitants of the house but visibly irate at the older lad stood behind him. From the moment Juvia presented to him the challenge, as soon as the sun risen, Gray stood outside those retiring double doors, waiting for the invitation in. He had those doors slammed in his face twice, all by the hostile second daughter, before he could even pronounce his morning greeting. His father, however, had always reminded him that a man who was trying to win a maiden's heart must endure. Hence, at the moment, he awaited on the stoop, despite being deemed unwelcomed, until a more agreeable Lockser opens the door and invites them in.

Third time was the charm.

Alike the mornings of his every visit, the day began with a slam of the door followed by the reopening of it and a rather exuberant greeting by Mrs. Lockser, a creature much more affable than her second daughter, and her apologizing for said daughter's rudeness.

"I don't know who she takes after." She claimed. "I raised my children well."

By this time, however, Gray had taken it to be the regular course of his courtship.

Gray presented his companion, introducing Lyon as his cousin in law. The latter, same as with Gray, was a man of pedigree. Hence, the first few minutes of the social call were spent with pleasantries. As his cousin, Ultear had suggested, Gray came bearing gifts – the finest ribbons and richest tobacco.

Ultear had given him a good lecture on engagement. The first rule of which was to win the favor of the family, a stratagem her husband sworn by. In Gray's recollection, Lyon had only paid him attention to gain an introduction with Ultear Milkovich, who was then deemed the most beautiful and desirable maiden of all Fiore. Without Gray's aide, Lyon could not have married the lady of his dreams. The young tradesman then decided it was high time he returned the favor. With his wife's blessing, Lyon offered his finest commodities to serve as Gray's presents.

"The moment I heard my dear cousin, Gray, is vying for a woman's affection, my wife and I had decided to bring these all the way from my hometown."

With a merchant's smile plastered on his face, Lyon managed to win more favor, as if the fortune Gray was to inherit was not enough for Mrs. Lockser to worship the young lad.

"You shan't have burdened yourselves, my good gentlemen." said Mr. Lockser, but his wife's face lightened up as she inspected the gifts with astonished eyes.

"Look, my dear! These are hard to come by." Mrs. Lockser presented the case of expensive tobacco to her husband. "Oh and with these beautiful ribbons, my daughters will be envied by this town!" exclaimed she, prancing around her rather crowded parlour. Her happiness had afforded Gray a breath of relief, putting the young suitor at ease until Mrs. Lockser called out to Juvia from the staircase. "Juvia come down and see this!"

There was no response so Mrs. Lockser marched upstairs to take along the daughter herself.

Then came Eliana to step into her mother's absence and expressed her own gratitude towards Mr. Fullbuster. She had a smile that warmed up the room and it aided in Gray's growing self-consciousness. It was the moment that Juvia arrived at – Gray and Eliana sharing in comfortable silence. She then realized how understated the talks were around town, that Grayden Fullbuster and Eliana Lockser made a perfect couple. They were a match made in heaven, she could tell. Eliana's ethereal beauty could make up for what her family lacked in affluence and connections. Her grace and ladylike demeanor very much suited the position of a noble's wife. Gray had no business wooing the wrong sister and if he was to change his choice, she could not blame him, for Juvia was nothing but rude to the young master.

"What are you still doing standing there and having to make your guests wait?"

Juvia tore her contemplating gaze away from the couple she, and the rest of the community, had decided in their minds. Her mother walked past her, oblivious of the resolve Juvia had arrived at.

"What a rude child." Mrs. Lockser complained to herself, then, as if taking off some kind of invisible mask, changed her deportment into a rather overly familiar hostess.

It was then that Juvia caught Gray's eyes, staring up at her without breaking, as the young lady descended the stairs. He only averted his gaze when an unfamiliar lad, dressed in garb as fancy as that of Mr. Fullbuster's, tapped his shoulders and passed him the most beautiful flowers Juvia had ever seen. Her brows furrowed in confusion as Gray walked past her beautiful sister, who deserved the offering of beauty that could rival Miss Lockser's, and stepped forward to meet Juvia at the foot of the staircase. Her eyes had wandered, however, not to meet Gray's dark ones, but at the white Magnolias held in his hands being presented to her. Without meaning to do it, Juvia's own hands saved him the trouble and gathered the bouquet in their safety.

"You should not have." She said in a tone that was neither happy nor content, without removing her eyes from the lovely whites. "Flowers die when removed from their stems." Those words, however, left her lips with indignation. She raised her eyes from the poor flowers and directed them at the confused gentleman from whom they came from, repeating, "Flowers die when removed from their stems."

Gray was left wondering if what was deemed a polite gesture had offended the young lady whose affection he sought. This should not have surprised him; however, since in the beginning he knew, Juvia Lockser was different from the rest of the ladies of Magnolia. Instead of being meekly but happily receiving such beautiful products of nature, like any lady would, Juvia had given him the deadliest stare he had ever had to confront in his life.

"My apologies."

"Non-sense!" Mrs. Lockser interrupted, dispersing the unfriendly air around the two. "You shouldn't apologize for bringing such wonderful flowers, Mr. Fullbuster." She snatched the fresh bouquet in Juvia's hands and casted a reprimanding glance towards the recipient. "And my daughter should be more grateful." She let a moment of silence stretch on, excused herself to the kitchen and instructed her family to help the guests be more comfortable whilst she prepare some refreshments.

With Mrs. Lockser away, the role of host fell onto the lap of Mr. Julian Lockser.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Fullbuster. Mr. Vastia, is it?"

"Yes, sir." answered Lyon politely. He sat next to his friend and cousin-in-law, who obeyed Mr. Lockser diligently.

Foresight had encouraged the second Lockser daughter to excuse herself, for if she wanted to go on about her day, she must now leave before her father started a conversation. His talks often lasted more than necessary.

"Father, if you may please allow me," Juvia had already stood up from her station and motioned to the front door. "I would like to be excused."

Juvia had always been the odd one in the family. She always felt out of place standing next to her sisters but she loved them all the same. She was often the center of her mother's attention and reproach, when her focus was momentarily stolen away from the loveliest daughter, for deviating from social norms and expectations of a lady. Juvia was the kind that would rather come with her father and help in the fields or wander around the woods, something a woman of her age would never be caught dead doing. In all this, she found an ally in his father who would indulge Juvia in her antics, only if it shall drive her mother to the edge of sanity, which both Juvia and her father enjoyed immensely.

However, Mr. Lockser knew there was time for propriety. Furthermore, he was very much aware of the graveness of this visit. His fortune was not well enough to support more than one family.

"Let's entertain our guests, my darling. They have travelled far and early to see our humble abode."

Juvia glanced at the culprit of the visit indignantly. Her frown had placed the blame of disrupting her morning on none other than her self-proclaimed suitor, who met her frown with confusion. Because it was Mr. Lockser who asked, Juvia had no other choice but to return to her place on the sofa and be obligated to listen in boring dialogues or otherwise.

"And what is it that you do, Mr. Vastia?"

Mr. Lockser displayed great interest in Mr. Vastia's business and spent the rest of the morning discussing it, which Juvia had easily foreseen. There was no stopping her father once his interest was roused. Juvia had no other choice but to suffer through it in excruciating silence. Alas, when the conversation rounded into a retelling of Mr. Vastia's adventures in the sea, Juvia's sleepiness had ebbed away. Her ears perked as she listened with much gusto, pitching her own inquiries here and there. For only tales of danger and adventure could hold Juvia's full attention and appease her thirst for them.

"My apologies, good sir, but I have been speaking of myself since this morning. You might see me as a vain man." He meekly coughed a short laugh in an attempt to be perceived modest. "I may have forgotten the reason my cousin and I had come today." He glanced at the reason for their visit, whose amusement had dulled at the interruption. "If Ms. Juvia would allow this gentleman a private audience." Lyon tapped a hand on Gray's shoulder, surprising him momentarily, yet passing the message as clear as day.

"Y-yes," started Gray, "if you may allow sir, I would like to request a private dialogue with your daughter."

"Pardon my interjection, good sirs." It was Juvia who answered on her own behalf, not wanting to be left out of the conversation of which she was the subject of. "If Mr. Fullbuster desired so, should he not have asked for it a moment ago?"

In truth, Juvia did not like the sudden turn of the conversation. She much preferred sitting through every storm the brave tradesman had to grapple with, to return to shore and be reunited with his family, rather than be left alone with the insufferably silent, dull and reserved Mr. Fullbuster.

"He was taken aback by your presence, Miss Juvia. Kindly forgive my cousin."

Such manner of speaking was quite familiar with Juvia; although she had never been the subject of such lighthearted teasing, as no one ever dared speak to a shrew. Even so, without much experience, Juvia could hold her own conversation.

"Could Mr. Fullbuster not speak for himself that you must do it on his behalf?"

Juvia had hidden her intention to affront both gentlemen in a rather sweet but arch smile, something Lyon never expected from this contemptuous lady. The young women of Magnolia were raised to behave with reserved manner and endearing meekness. So it came as a surprise that a young woman such as Juvia had no trouble challenging him. Lyon was dumbfounded that he forgot how to speak for a moment, for there was only a number of people who had such effect on him, and failed to rise to her challenge.

There were many words to describe Mrs. Lockser and heaven-sent was positively not one of them. In that moment, however, when she walked back into the parlour with her pleasant smelling tea and sunny disposition, Lyon conceded to calling her that, a heaven sent, for she had saved him from the blindsided discomfiture.

---

Daylight had gone without Juvia ever having to get out of the house and see it. Her father and mother, but mostly the latter, held the young people hostage in the house. She wished the good gentlemen would take the intimation and excused themselves. The lack of sunlight made the young lady out of sorts and she would not have wanted to be the one to ask them to leave. If Mr. Vastia had not remembered the family waiting for him, the two lads would have joined the Locksers for dinner and Juvia would have lost her manners.

Fatigue had caught up with her when she retired for the night, which Juvia found odd as she had not any activities throughout the day. So, how come her body felt too weary and her muscles too cramp? She walked in to her sisters tucking themselves into their own beds and came to the conclusion that it was too late to search for answers. The second child headed to her own bed stationed between her sisters' and chanced upon the white Magnolias arranged beautifully in a budvase next to it. Much like how she reacted to first meeting them earlier, her hands reached out to them on their own.

"Beautiful, are they not?"

Eliana's voice surprised Juvia that her hand hanged in the air for a moment before she quickly withdrew it back to her side. The eldest crossed to her bed and settled on it as her fingers gently felt the delicate white petals of Juvia's bouquet; her appreciating eyes never left the beautiful display.

"Have you any idea what Magnolias symbolize? Nobility and dignity. Mother says they've been around for thousands of years." Eliana's soft eyes studied the beauty right before her, tossing her head at every angle, lost in the appreciation of the white Magnolias. "They best represent Mr. Fullbuster, do you agree?" She asked in a tone, however, that required no response and so, Juvia did not answer. Instead, the latter examined the sister before her.

Eliana had the gift of seeing only the best in people, of finding beauty in each thing. Juvia could say her sister was too innocent, too naïve but it was one thing she envied of her. Not her beauty, not her flawlessness, but her ability to only see the good.

"You may take them if you wish."

"Non-sense!" Eliana only withdrew her eyes away from the flowers to look at her sister with outrage. "These were offered to you. I was only admiring them." She stood from the bed and motioned towards her own, saying her goodnights to her younger sisters without ever glancing at them. Wendy was fast asleep in her own bunk while Juvia, once again, failed to answer. It seemed that her older sister was not expecting one as Eliana slipped under the covers and faced the opposite wall, away from her kin.

"You admire an illusion, my dear sister." Juvia then turned her eyes towards the white Magnolias, this time, without need but with restrained want of touching them. "For you see, flowers wither as quickly as the sand filters through one's hand."

Juvia never placed high hopes on whatever thing, because sooner than later, the Magnolias would wither and there would be nothing left of it but some proof of its once beautiful existence. Everything must come to an end and such was the fact of life. So, she fell asleep then wondering if how long Gray's misplaced affection would last for such a disagreeable woman as her.

---

"Trust me when I say this, my love," The first thing Lyon did once they arrived back at the mansion was to seek the comfort of his wife. He slipped onto her lap, rested his head on them and waited until Ultear finished the page she was reading and closed her book, "I have never felt so unwanted in my life."

"Don't be overdramatic," interjected Gray, "we made progress."

"Progress?" He turned to the gentleman who spoke while his wife combed her fingers through his silver hair. "The woman was hostile through and through!"

"Yes, because today she had finally talked to me."

"Ah, yes. To tell you in no limited terms how evil you were to pluck the flowers off their stems and offer the same to her."

"Small progress is still progress. Kindly, do not misunderstand Miss Juvia. She only expressed her worry of the flowers' well-being rather than their aesthetic purposes."

Lyon's brows met in the middle to his response and his eyes narrowed in observation. On the outset it appeared that Gray and Juvia was the last people to think when the words 'match made in heaven' came to mind. They were just too different, too opposite from one another, like mismatched pieces of a hundred-piece puzzle. To Lyon's surprise, however, Gray seemed to have a rather deep understanding of the young woman.

"Isn't the eldest a bit more pleasant and agreeable?"

"Perhaps." He answered with a tone that was both uninterested and dismissing, as Gray had found his journal and began writing on it.

"Then what are we doing pining after one who could care less about your existence?"

"I admit that Ms. Juvia Lockser isn't making this at all easy. But may I remind you that nothing of value often is."

There was a sudden silence cut only by Ultear's remarks.

"I could not believe my ears for a moment." A short chuckle tumbled out of Ultear's lips, clearly finding the exchange more amusing than her book or her husband's soft locks.

"I cannot understand where her loathing of you is coming from. Whatever have you done to earn her deep-rooted ire?"

Gray pondered for a moment, putting his pen down and debating whether to tell the couple his truth. As he wanted Juvia not to be unreasonably misunderstood, he opted to recount the night he and Juvia first met. His goal was realized and doubts of Juvia's upbringing were dispelled. He did not anticipate, however, that his beloved cousin and her husband would quickly jump on the young lady's side and abandoned his.

"If you have done the same to me, I would have castrated you right there and then," exclaimed Ultear, who was now seeing her cousin more of an evil than the angel she thought of him to be. "However, as she holds you no accountable, why do you afford this lady much consequence?"

"Why indeed."

Gray had not the answer himself but to find such reason, or any of it, was the cause of this journey.

"Well, I shall not keep you." He addressed the couple without satisfying their curiosity. "I must retire for the night. Tomorrow is a new day." said he, and kept his journal close to him as he went away.

Gray left his behavior to scrutiny of the couple in the room; both pairs of curious eyes followed his retreating back until he disappeared behind the archway.

"I pity our boy, my love. The young lady could not spare him even a bit of interest."

"Do you feel she cannot accept him?"

"Her hostility is something I have never seen even from our business competitors."

There was a stretch of silence, filled only by the mellow crackles from the fireplace. Lyon played with his wife's fingers intertwined with his and let the woman be alone with her thoughts. If Juvia Lockser genuinely harbored no interest towards her beloved cousin, then her aunt's misgivings were not too unfounded. Ultear ought to convince him to end his pertinacity and save his beloved cousin from the awful pain of rejection.

"We must retreat to our chambers then, my love. I will have to rise early to accompany our persistent boy."

Lyon slid off his wife's lap and gently pulled her beloved to her feet, after him. He held on to the warmth of their hands clasped together all the way to their assigned room.

"But I have to say, my love." Lyon led his wife through the corridors of the mansion. "Despite her contentiousness, I can find the charm in the young Juvia Lockser."

The confession had piqued the curiosity of his wife, who was coming down to the resolve of joining her aunt's cause and put a stop on the doomed courtship. Her interest was tickled and mind clouded. For what woman would willingly refuse the opportunity to amass a fortune even she would have envied.

"She is like you in some regard."

"And in what regard would that be?"

Juvia Lockser must have been foolish, very much unlike Ultear. She could not refuse if one day she was to inherit the Fullbuster manor.

"You both would give any gentleman a run for their fortune."

Her husband's smile was equally warm and teasing. For Ultear knew quite well and she could vividly remember, how much suffering she put her now husband through in their own engagement. So that night she deferred her plans on allying with her beloved aunt, no matter how unseemly that was. She wanted to meet the lady and form her own opinion of her. If what her husband said was any true, then Gray's courtship may not be as hopeless as she thought, after all.

tags: @greenapplegrass @shampooneko @trizfn @anaken101 @gruviaftw11 @juviasblog @heademptyonlygruvia @unvalley @jetblackrevival @lannyathewitch @groovyah @jujumanga

#gray x juvia #gruvia #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser #be-dazzled #gruvia period au #gruvia fanfiction #period gruvia #jane austen gruvia

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advernia · 4 years

Text

fic: heaven just called, said it wants you back

— y'see, things naturally fall from the sky. for example, rain. hail. dead birds. bird poop. oh, then there was you. - ace of spades & alice the second.

1: alternatively - fenrir godspeed gets a bad case of the shoujo eyes, made possible by cradle's local random substance-making association ╮( ꒪౪꒪)╭

Fenrir's hands are loose fists with tingling fingers, pinching away at the fabric of his pants. Were the Ace of Spades a couple years younger and seated in front of a desk again, Dean would've taken that as a sign of another beloved student forgetting that somehow, there was a hundred-point exam waiting to be finished in five minutes.

Ah, good times.

"So - how am I, doc? Am I still good to go?"

Kyle chuckles, looping the stethoscope around his neck. "What's with the jitter, Ace of Spades? You're in tip-top shape. Heck, if I could smack some of that health onto my worst patient, he'd be outta my hair for a month or two."

"Even an untrained eye can tell that you're energetic as ever, Fenrir," Dean adds, snapping his book shut. "What made you run after Kyle when you heard that he was done doing his rounds here in Central?"

"Yeah, about that..." a scratch of the cheek, a boyish grin. "One of the smugglers I chased down earlier suddenly threw some sparkly liquid to my face. Kinda stung, yeesh."

"Oh. Sounds like a regular morning to me."

Dean does not address that comment. At all. "I see. So you sought out a doctor to check if the liquid had some adverse effect on you as a precaution."

"Right you are, prof - but if Cradle's best doc says I'm fine, then I probably am!" Fenrir beams, rising up from the bench. "Should've known though, just the usual weird bunch making all sorts of stuff with bogus effects!"

"Hm?" Kyle frowns, leaning back on the bench. "So you're saying that the sparkly stuff wasn't just meant for distraction, but it should've had some actual effect on you?"

"I guess? The smuggler did say that it will make you powerless at the face of sheer beauty, hah!"

Doctor and professor exchange glances: the no-trace-of-a-single-expression variety, face-so-perfectly-neutral variety.

Then, turning back to face Fenrir and in deadpan unison:

"What."

"I know, right? Like, what kind of effect is that?!"

Fenrir scours the Central Quarter's streets for at least four more hours, and he doesn't go weak in the knees at all.

Oh no, Central was already loads of pretty to begin with anyway, with its tons of market stall rows and crowds of people and various shops open for business. There's all sorts of energy teeming about from every road and alley be it good or bad, and each day there's always something new just waiting to be discovered - that's the sheer beauty in Central, if Fenrir would say so himself.

But the thing was, everything in Fenrir's perspective still looked as fine like usual: no change on how he saw his favorite spots around town (they're still the best), no change on how he saw all the people he passed by be it the group of young ladies (charming, they're all wearing new makeup) or that old man by the bookstore (pudge and wrinkle galore), no change on how he saw those stuffy Red Army goons in all their whitewashed uniform glory.

But then again, no sparkle in the world could make any Red Army goon's toothy grin look the least bit prettier in Fenrir's book.

So, yeah. In conclusion: local smuggler's liquid that will make you powerless at the face of sheer beauty?

Bogus. Slip-up. Dud. The usual back alley magic shenanigans, nothing to see here, case closed. What would true beauty even look like, and how would that render him powerless, anyway?

Ah, well. Another successful patrol under his belt, Fenrir whistles a tune on his way back to Black Army headquarters, choosing the scenic Central Quarter market route.

He regrets that in five seconds. He cringes, a shiver running down his spine, legs moving faster.

Sheer beauty, my foot.

That one tomato stall could make him walk away, but it didn't mean that it was beautiful, dammit!

Making his way past the Black bridge, a couple more villages, a short hike up a hill, and at last stepping within the familiar grounds of Black Army headquarters; he passes by the old man and his raccoon-skin-wearing-imp for a pet.

Nope, nothing beautiful there, especially with those sharp rows of teeth. The blooming tulips look great though!

He runs into Seth by the hallways, who, for all his claims of being the prettiest guy in the whole barracks; still looked pretty manly to the eyes.

... Okay, so maybe his hair was far from manly - did he seriously brush all those strands every single morning?

Then, at long last, the kitchen: something lingering about in the air had become a siren's call to both Fenrir's nose and stomach, amplified to the extreme when he finally makes it to the source. He just sort of stands there by the doorway for a moment, taking in a strong savory scent.

Hmm, meat in brown sauce, maybe? Or some stew or soup that was heavy on the onions?

Another sharp inhale of Fenrir's catches the attention of one of the backs facing him, of the person standing near the stove.

"Oh - welcome back, Fenrir," Luka nods, a ladle in hand.

"Heya, Mister Head Chef!" a wave back, a couple of sure paces forward. "Sooo, what're you and our assistant chef cook... ing..."

Fenrir feels his breath abruptly catch in his throat, words losing their coherence the same time his feet just stop themselves from taking another step closer.

Eyes open wide like they've never done before, as if determined to capture every detail what was unfolding before him.

Illuminated by bright rays of midday sunlight passing through the windows, hair he had always perceived to be a shade of honey-brown has turned golden, shining with a beautiful luster that gold itself would envy and desire to possess. The vivid color has a dazzle to it that achieves a delightful balanced feast of soothing and fascinating to the eyes, not making one have the urge to turn away or squint due to its sheer brilliance.

Its waist-length entirety had been gathered together, pulled up high, and was held secure by a white ribbon, but every single strand and every lengthy lock of gold followed and swayed; a shimmering veil dancing along in accordance to the movement of their owner - a turn of the head to look back, an action almost so painfully slow as it was simple, and the veil gives way to reveal what it has kept hidden.

Fenrir could literally feel his throat go dry.

Oh boy.

An even skin tone with touches of rose-pink undertones, absent of any prominent blemish from the tip of the forehead to the base of a very bare neck -

A face longer than it was wide, with a soft jawline that tapers from the cheeks to a rounded chin -

Neat eyebrows with delicate arches towards the tail, plump cheeks and pert nose blooming with a gentle flush perhaps due to the heat in the kitchen -

Innocently round eyes complementarily framed by long wispy lashes, holding in irises painted repeatedly with the combined natural hues taken from the clearest summer skies and cleanest waters of the sea: the end result was such an alluring blue, a shade that not even the finest jewel in the world could compare to, a color that could capture passing gazes and never let go; rendering one lost in the wonder of those eyes -

Then finally, full lips with both ends perpetually curved upwards; unpainted yet bearing a delicate peach-like tint, drawn closed but parting themselves open to say just one na -

"Fenrir!" Alice the Second smiles and just like that her face lights up - she's the sun in that very moment and he's hopelessly drawn to her, to those eyes visibly crinkling at the corners, to those eyes that were set solely on him and him alone. "Welcome home!"

Oh, man.

Seth always called her cute, but that one word hardly gave any of her features a single shred of the justice they deserved.

Here in the kitchen, standing not so far away and with the sun generously bathing her in its light, she was beautiful. Lovely. Enchanting. Divine.

Perfect.

A shaking hand pulls up to cover his mouth, fingers press down on cheeks that feel warm to the touch.

Not good. So not good.

She and Luka exchange a glance when he doesn't say anything, when he doesn't as much move from his spot. Then she - she with the blue Mary Janes protecting her dainty feet, she with the pure white socks modestly hugging her shapely legs - takes a step forward.

Towards him.

His heartbeat roars in his ears. Quite loudly, complete with relentless echoing.

Oh no. Oh no, oh n -

"Fenrir?" those pretty, pretty lips spell, with a voice kind and beckoning. He grips his face a little tighter, takes a step back, tries not to look at her lips. Tries. For his efforts, his eyes reward him with quite the pleasant view of her clothed chest - two buttons of her blouse are undone, giving way to a tantalizing view of more unblemished skin and the shape of her very prominent collarbones, and -

She takes another step forward, her lithe figure still occupies his whole line of vision, and he swears something in him is slowly dying.

Aw, shit. Remember rule number three! Rule number three, you're not supposed to -

He bumps into something as he takes another shaking step back and he takes that whatever he bumped into was a person, so he quickly turns on his heels; eyes brimming with a desperation and sorrow of a sinner as he pleaded rather loudly:

"Punch me."

Behind Fenrir, two voices say: "What?"

And standing in front of him, the bulky Seven of Spades, with his understanding heart as big as his brawn; offers Fenrir a toothy grin and not a single question as he replied: "Okay!"

The Jack of Spades and Alice the Second could only stare in horror as the Seven of Spades demonstrated an uppercut right before their very eyes.

2: it's february and i should be writing lighter things, aka a crack prompt revolving around the wonder that are the many odd substances being smuggled in cradle asides from aphrodisiacs 乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ happy valentine's day! (‘∀’●)♡

#ikemen kakumei #ikemen revolution #ikerev fanfic #fenrir godspeed #dean tweedle #kyle ash #luka clemence #ikerev alice

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sembell · 6 years

Text

Moving Forward - Chapter 54

It’s been some time, but the longer the wait the longer the chapter, I guess?! Thank you guys so much for your patience, your encouraging words and your constructive feedback! I still love writing this story as a way to escape into an alternate reality that, as of now, makes me feel so much better than the actual reality (whatever that is :P) The title of this chapter is based on my very first encounter with Gillian at the Toulouse Game Show in 2015, when I was standing in front of her, ready to get my poster signed. Her phone buzzed, she looked at it and went “Oh shit! Just a second, sorry!” and then typed something. Who knows what happened there, but this is what I made out of it for the MF-universe :)

NC-17 warning!

“Oh shit! Just a second, sorry!” Gillian Anderson

September, and with it the end of filming, came around much faster than expected.

Parting ways had always been difficult, but incredibly hard after spending three and a half months together - as a family.

A few days after wrapping, David and Gillian found themselves, once again, on completely different continents, thousands of miles apart from each other. When he’d started to film the second season of Aquarius in Los Angeles, Gillian had flown out to Nepal with Piper and her sister to shed Aaron’s ashes. Right after their short and highly emotional trip, she traveled to India to shoot her new movie Viceroy’s House.

The weeks went by excruciatingly slow, even though their days were always busy and packed with an enormous workload.

By the middle of October, she was still shooting the movie in Jodhpur while David found himself at the New York Comic Con with Mitch and Chris, starting the promotion of their six-episode-event-series.

Although she couldn’t be with them, she had sent a video of her sitting by the pool, sounding somewhat like Lady Mountbatten and making a teasing comment about one of the pool boys. David grinned to himself as the audience cheered, remembering all those hours they’d watched documentaries and recorded her voice during breaks, and how much they’d laughed over her weird accent.

They’d started the panel with screening the first episode, and the rest of it went smooth and enjoyable, mostly due to Kumail, whose love and excitement for the show was basically endless.

At some point, right in the middle of an audience’s question, David’s phone buzzed on his upper thigh. With a quick glance down, he saw that Gillian had tweeted something.

Lying in bed in Jodhpur watching live NYCC panel. Miss you guys. Especially one of you.

He pursed his lips and read it again.

Especially one of you.

And then again.

Suddenly, Chris had started to talk again, and David raised his head abruptly, his eyes wandering over the audience. He had no idea what the question was, but it was answered quickly, and Mitch was talking again. And that was basically the rest of the panel for David. He just wasn’t able to concentrate anymore, especially since his phone kept on buzzing with new messages coming from his little tease over in India.

“She just texted me about my flow,” David said bashfully as he followed Mitch off the stage. The panel had just ended, and they were already on their way back to the media area where they were supposed to give a couple of interviews.

Mitch chuckled, turned around and gave David a pat on the back. “Did she watch us live?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“What does she think about your flow?”

“She says it’s flowing just fine, she’s still turned on by the way I handle my chunky monologues,” David answered, and they both fell into hearty laughter.

There was another message that he’d received during the panel, which he didn’t show Mitch, that said:

> Is that handsome dude on my screen really my boyfriend? I miss him terribly <

She knew exactly how to sweeten him up.

> I thought he’s right there with you, providing cold drinks and fresh fruit? <

A couple of seconds later, she started to type, and it didn’t take long for another text to pop up:

> :P - I wish! Y’all looked fantastic though. I’m so sad I couldn’t be there and watch the episode! Is it any good? <

> It’s good, the audience liked it. <, he replied and began to chew on the inside of his cheek as a new wave of longing came over him.

Right then, he couldn’t have cared less about the episode. All he could think of was kissing her in that pool by her hotel, running his nose over her cute little freckles and smelling her delicious, sunkissed skin.

Yes, he was desperate. And who could really blame him after all those weeks without her? Though admittedly, it had started to become fun to play with all the possibilities they had nowadays to stay in contact and feel somewhat close. David especially had become a big fan of those little sexting games she would constantly come up with. He certainly couldn’t imagine his life without being able to play “Queen of the day” with her anymore.

Unfortunately, nothing was even remotely close to what it felt like to have her in his arms, kiss her beautiful lips and tell her he loved her while looking into her deep blue eyes.

A couple of weeks later, David landed at London Heathrow Airport on a gloomy Friday afternoon, tired to the bones and aching from a long week on set.

He had been looking forward to their first weekend together in what felt like forever, at least up until last Tuesday, when he received a call from a very angry, but also abashed Gillian, telling him that the convention she would attend this weekend wasn’t actually taking place in Paris, as she assumed it would, but in a little French town called Toulouse, which was basically in the middle of nowhere.

All their plans for a nice, long weekend together with the kids, visiting the Eiffel Tower, climbing the stairs of the Basilica du Sacre-Coeur de Montmartre up to the top, or eating years worth of crêpes and baguettes had died in a matter of seconds.

Instead, David decided to spend the weekend at home with the kids, not really keen to drag them out to a cold, snowy Toulouse, no matter how nice and interesting it might’ve been. With so many geeks in one small city, chances were they wouldn’t be able to have a very good time after all.

It was already dark when he arrived at Gillian’s house, and Erin, the kids’ nanny, was all set to leave for a romantic weekend with her boyfriend in a nice little cabin somewhere on the coast. David couldn’t possibly envy her more, even though he was starting to look forward to having some fun with the kids alone.

Over the last couple of months, it had become somewhat of a tradition that whenever he had Gillian’s kids for himself, he’d take them to places that served American food. The good, greasy and overly sweet stuff that the boys didn’t get too often, but of course loved tremendously. He’d lie if he said that he didn’t enjoy spoiling them - they were awesome boys, and they had a good relationship even without buffalo wings, chicken with waffles or s’mores, but he loved having a good time with them and seeing them happy and relaxed around him. And whenever he’d been away for a longer period of time, it was an easy way to skip the awkward first couple of hours to warm up to each other again.

They took the tube to a nice little place near St. Paul’s Cathedral and had a wonderful dinner before driving back home and taking Nelson for a long walk around the neighborhood.

The dog had become everything David had hoped he would when he gave him to Gillian - a wonderful, beloved buddy for her active young boys. Both Oscar and Felix were very dedicated to Nelson, and it was a delight to watch how much fun they were having together, but also seeing how much responsibility the boys had taken for the little guy.

When David had settled Eaden for the night, the boys showed him their new sports game on the Nintendo Wii, and they ended up playing tennis and golf way past midnight, having so much fun that David even forgot to call Gillian before she fell asleep in her hotel in Toulouse.

On Saturday, the four of them went to an indoor playground right after breakfast, and David spent the better part of his day counting heads, carrying Eaden back to the toddler area, which she was constantly sneaking away from to jump around with the big kids, and handing out snacks and drinks.

Around midday, he started to receive some hilarious text messages from an incredulous Gillian, asking him how anyone in their right mind could possibly confuse Toulouse with Paris and complain that she was freezing her ass off in the hall she was sitting in before she eventually sent him a picture of a squat toilet, labeling it “Welcome in Europe 2015”.

While David had a good laugh over it, he also felt for her. She deserved a weekend to relax, yet she was out there making other people’s dreams come true. He couldn’t admire her more right now.

Gillian was back at her signing table after the first round of photo op’s around 2 pm, frozen to the bone and overwhelmed by the number of people still waiting in line to see her.

It was fun though, really. She’d grown to like these conventions despite her fear of crowds and her aversion to public speaking.

Her fans were crazy, but most of them were very nice, lovely people, and knowing she could make them very happy by just being there and taking a moment to talk to them was bringing her an immense amount of joy as well.

Her phone buzzed beside her, and she only meant to take a quick glance at it, but the first three words immediately caught her full attention and set her on alert. It was a message from David, one that didn’t start very good.

“Oh shit,” Gillian exclaimed, taking her phone and looking at the young woman standing in front of her. “Just a second, sorry!” Gillian said with an apologetic smile and unlocked the screen before reading the entire text:

> Rufus is missing. I can’t find him anywhere. Erin said Eadie didn’t have him for her nap either. Do you remember seeing him around somewhere? <

And that was when the nightmare started.

Gillian hopped into the waiting limousine to leave the convention center by 7:30 pm, much later than she’d anticipated since she spent another hour at her table, meeting even the last person who hadn't gotten the chance to see her earlier today.

The rest of the day had been so busy that she didn’t get the chance to write David anymore, and his messages had piled up by now.

His immediate reply to her suggestions where the bunny might’ve been was:

> No, he’s not in the car and not under our bed, or any bed for that matter. Please come up with something a little bit more helpful. I’m running out of options here. <

There were four more rather desperate ones before she reached the last one:

> I can’t find it. I looked absolutely EVERYWHERE! <

Gillian inhaled sharply and turned her head to look out of the window as they were passing the crowds on their way home, or to the next bar.

It was raining again, or snowing, she couldn’t really tell. The cold and cloudy weather in the past couple of weeks was starting to get to her mood and overall well-being. As if only the sun could recharge her batteries. Maybe a nice long bubble bath back at the hotel and a decent sized burger with fries and a milkshake on the side would do the trick, too, Gillian thought, smiling to herself. Boy, she really wasn’t looking forward to making a call home and face the reality that her one-year-old’s heart was probably broken into a million pieces.

With an exasperated sigh, Gillian dialed David’s number and raised her phone to her ear. Better get it over with right away, she thought.

He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Hey, stranger. You're done with your day?”

Gillian smiled. “Hello, yourself. Yep, I'm completely done. Done, done, done in every possible way. My brain is just… mush.”

“I bet it is,” David said with a chuckle. “Lots of people, huh?”

“You have no idea. But now tell me what’s going on! How is she?”

“A-s-l-e-e-p,” he spelled, especially emphasizing the ‘p’ at the end, sounding both relieved and tired.

“Oh, wow,” Gillian said in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, me neither. But she basically cried herself to sleep on the couch while I was trying to make dinner. I guess it was an exhausting day for all of us, and now she’s lying half on top of Nelson - who’s also on the couch, I’m very sorry - clutching one of your hoodies to her face.”

“Oh no, poor girl,” Gillian said ruefully. The bunny had been on top of her mind since David’s first message, and she couldn’t really remember when she’d seen him the last time. On Friday morning when she’d gotten the baby ready for the day? Did Eaden have him in the car during their school run? Or… did they bring him to get a couple of groceries and actually lost him while strolling through Brick Lane Market? Which was, undoubtedly, the worst case scenario.

“Yeah, it’s sad,” David said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “She just doesn’t understand it.”

“Fuck, David. I feel so guilty. It’s all my fault.”

“No, Gillian. Things like that just happen.”

“Have you ever lost the favorite stuffed animal?”

“Well, no. But we’ve lost a bunch over the years…”

“Yeah, the ones that are forgotten the next day. But you usually don’t lose the favorite one because you never bring it with you when you leave the house. That’s the number one rule every parent knows… and usually follows.”

“Maybe we’ll find him again. I will keep looking, okay? Don’t lose any sleep over it, babe.”

“Maybe I should go out for a drink with David and Nicholas after all,” Gillian mused, referring to the American actors that had also attended the convention with her.

“Yeah, at least one of us should have fun,” he said with a light chuckle.

“I’m so sorry, David. I know this wasn’t what you were expecting from this weekend. Are the boys good for you at least?”

“They’re awesome. One of them was always with Eaden or looking for the bunny. They took off to play upstairs an hour ago when the crying got really bad, which I can��t blame them for, to be honest. I think they’re hungry and waiting for dinner now, so…”

“Oh, okay. What are you making?”

“Baked mashed potatoes.”

“Um, okay. Sounds… interesting.”

“Easy and… basically ready to serve. I gotta go, babe. I love you, you know?”

Gillian smiled as heat rose to her cheeks. “I love you, too. Very much.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Finally.”

“Yes, finally. Good night, Gillian.’

“Good night, David. Please give the kids a kiss from me, okay?”

Rufus hadn't miraculously resurfaced by the next day, which pretty much sealed the deal for David that Eaden’s favorite stuffed bunny had in fact gotten lost in the streets.

After lunch, which the baby had refused to eat even though it had been pizza, David found her in the library rummaging through one of the bookshelves.

She didn’t even look up when he kneeled down beside her. “What are you doing, slugger? Are you redecorating Mommy’s books?” he asked, running his hand over her back.

It was only when she turned her head that he saw the tears running down her cheeks again.

“Ufus!” Eaden sobbed, her bottom lip stuck out so far that a bird could have perched on it.

“Oh honey,” David sighed. How often could his heart actually break for this little girl? She was looking at him as though he was the only one who’d be able to make everything okay again. There were so much hope and expectation in those piercing blue eyes. How he wished he could take away her pain. Or at least be able to explain what was going on.

Thankfully, she fell asleep in his arms after he’d picked her up and laid down on the couch with her.

But it was barely an hour later that Eaden couldn’t be soothed anymore.

David was leaning against the kitchen island with a screaming, wiggling Eaden in his arms when he heard the front door being closed and someone in heels walking through the hallway.

He had a tight hold on Eaden’s little feet as Oscar was standing right in front of him, looking up at his sister with worried eyes while he was gently stroking her arm.

Felix was sitting on the couch, holding his ears while staring at David’s iPad.

Oh boy, Gillian thought as she caught the first sight of them. It was worse than she’d expected.

Putting her bags down, she gave David a weary look as she approached them, but could see a hint of relief crossing his own features.

“Hey, you guys. What’s the matter here?”

“Mum!” Oscar exclaimed and ran into her arms, embracing her waist. “We weren’t able to find the bunny.”

“Mummy, she won’t stop screaming and we looked everywhere!” Felix complained from his position on the couch, not even attempting to get up and give her a hug.

“Yeah, we did! We thought Nelson might have taken it, but it’s nowhere in the house! She must’ve lost it somewhere outside.”

“Oh dear,” Gillian sighed and ran her fingers through Oscars hair before leaning over to give him a kiss. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Nope,” Felix stated, cringing as Eaden let out another loud wail and plugging his fingers back into his ears.

“Hey, baby girl,” Gillian cooed and walked towards David and Eaden with Oscar following her closely. With four fingers of her right hand stuck in her mouth, she was clutching David’s neck with the other, and her head was resting against his shoulder as though she’d literally no energy left in her to hold it up herself.

“Look! Mommy’s home, baby. Everything’s alright now,” David whispered, gently bouncing her up and down.

Gillian snorted and started to rub Eaden’s back to get her attention. She seemed to be completely out of things, and her whole body heaved with convulsive sobs, each one wracking her harder than the last. It sounded pretty much like she was choking.

Her normally bright, sparkling blue eyes looked glassy, and the white in them had turned into a bright pink. Only her cheeks were redder than her eyes.

Gillian felt her daughter’s forehead with the back of her hand, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“She’s hot.”

“Yeah, she’s been crying and screaming on and off for hours now. She didn’t eat anything at all and only managed to take a couple of sips of tea here and there,” David said, worry and remorse evident in his voice.

“M-hm, it’s hard to make her drink anything when she’s so upset,” Gillian squeezed his arm reassuringly.

He managed a weak smile before asking, “You want to hold her for a bit?”

“Yes. Just let me change into something clean and comfy, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and put his hand on her upper arm as she was attempting to walk away, pulling gently. “Hey,” he whispered, his smile soft but tired.

She raised her arm and stroked his stubbled cheek before putting her fingers around his neck and pulling him down for a chaste kiss. “Hey,” she whispered as she pulled back. She’d pictured their first kiss after weeks a little bit differently. “Hang in there, I’ll be right back.”

The crying got worse again once she’d left the room to head upstairs, and it resonated even up to her bedroom. Gillian could count on ten fingers the times she’d heard one of her kids crying like this, and it had mostly been Eaden with her newborn colics. The memories of spending hours walking around and bouncing her to ease the physical pain were still very vivid. But how on earth was she supposed to help her one-year-old with her emotional struggles?

Gillian sighed as she quickly undressed and walked into the bathroom to wash her face. No matter how many kids one had, parenthood would always be a challenge, and it would never be simple.

She came back to David pouring what she guessed was fennel tea, Eaden’s favorite, into a sippy cup while their daughter was now sobbing directly into his shoulder. They always made a whole can in the mornings and let it cool down. Gillian hated it, couldn’t even stand the smell anymore, but Eaden was chugging it down like crazy. On a normal day, at least. She really hoped Eaden would take it.

She went over to Felix first, who had been joined on the couch by Oscar, to make a point and give him a kiss hello. He smiled at her bashfully when she ruffled his hair before finally pulling her down for a bear hug. No matter if she was gone for a weekend or a couple of weeks, they always seemed happy and grateful when they had her back, and in need of a lot of cuddles. She hoped she’d get the chance to spend some quality time with both of them before she had to fly out to Belfast on Tuesday.

“Hey sweetheart, look what Daddy made you! Your favorite tea!” Gillian tried to sound as excited as possible when she stepped beside David, who let out a frustrated sigh while trying to screw the lid with one hand.

She gently put her hand over his, gave it a reassuring squeeze and took the cup to close it.

“Eaden, Mommy is here now. Have you seen her?” David murmured, gently trying to loosen her tight grip on him so she would at least take a look. He still couldn’t believe how hard it actually was to peel a tiny, clinging toddler off of you. “Eaden, please,” he begged, and Gillian could tell that he was giving everything not to sound annoyed or harsh. It must’ve been a horrible weekend for him, especially after not seeing them for such a long time.

“Okay,” Gillian nodded, put the cup on the counter and started to take the baby away from him.

She was holding on for dear life, pulling at his shirt and stretching it as far as possible before he finally got to open her fingers around the fabric, and she let go.

Gillian had just turned her around and settled her on her hip to take a look at her when Eaden broke into full-blown bawl, arched her back and suddenly threw herself backward so forcefully that if David hadn’t been there to catch her, Gillian would’ve dropped her.

“Jesus Christ,” Gillian breathed in utter shock, her heart now beating rapidly in her chest. Eaden’s cries once again intensifying.

David nodded, running his large hand over Eaden’s small back while Gillian was holding her tightly, even though she was squirming in her mother’s arms.

“It’s alright baby,” Gillian tearfully choked out. She felt horrible. Eaden had never resented her like that before, and it stung.

If she only had been there for her over the last two days.

She looked up to meet David’s eyes. “Do you think it might help if I retreat into the library and lay down with her?” Gillian asked, cradling her daughter’s head in her palm and bouncing her gently.

“Yeah, you do that,” David said softly and leaned forward to kiss her forehead before handing her the sippy cup. “I’ll be out here if you need me, okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you,” she whispered, hoping he knew how grateful she was for everything he was doing for her. Flying over for the weekend to watch her two boys, their daughter and the dog all by himself was more than she was expecting from him, especially since she didn’t even have to ask.

He found them peacefully lying in the raffia glider a while later. The library was one of his favorite rooms in her house. It was peaceful and comfortable, and he loved to come in here, browse her bookshelves and lay down with a book that caught his interest. David even had a shelf for his own books in here, and sometimes, he’d find a book in it that she’d bought him, one she thought he would like, or one she just really wanted him to read.

Eaden was slumped against Gillian with her head resting on her mother's chest, her little body still shaking with an occasional sob. With one hand, she was fingering a few tendrils of her mother’s hair that had escaped out of her ponytail. The other one was holding onto Gillian’s shirt.

“Hey, it’s so quiet in here,” he said with a soft smile and let himself slump down onto the blue sofa beside them.

“Yeah, finally,” Gillian said, her voice just above a whisper, and looked at her little girl.

Eaden had stopped drinking, but Gillian was pleased that she’d managed to drink at least half of the cup. Her eyes were still open, but she was staring at nothing in particular, her little fingers absently playing with the collar of her black shirt before disappearing underneath it again.

Gillian sighed. It was so tempting to give in, to go 10 steps back, ruin everything they’d worked for over the last eight weeks and just let her nurse, even if it was just for comfort’s sake.

“Babe, don’t,” David said quietly as if he’d read her mind, his eyes warm and full of affection. “I know what you’re thinking, but it won’t help her, or you, in any way.”

Gillian nodded and buried her nose in her daughter’s soft blonde hair. He was right, of course; the whole process was a nightmare she didn’t want to start over again. She couldn’t do that to Eaden, or to herself.

For Gillian, it was an emotional rollercoaster of unknown dimensions. Some days, she thought she was experiencing something similar to postpartum depression. She had to excuse herself from meetings or during filming to cry in private multiple times in the last couple of weeks. Had found herself on the verge of a panic attack every Monday morning when she was about to leave for Belfast, or felt completely unable to get up in the mornings and go to set.

On other days, she was incredibly relieved that she didn’t have to offer her body to a little person every waking hour of the day, or night, anymore. While she loved being close to the kids and loved providing the physical comfort each child needed, there was definitely a certain point when she started to feel very anxious, claustrophobic and protective of her own body.

One night back in the beginning of September, she’d broken down into tears after another day of tugging, fumbling, holding, carrying and rocking a cranky toddler, just to be used as a human pacifier at bedtime, and hours beyond.

Just the thought of having to hug or kiss David, or give herself out to anyone else on top of that made her heart race and her stomach clench. She was feeling incredibly overwhelmed and irritable pretty much all the time. Touched out, as some were calling it. And she found that this description was pretty fitting to what she had been feeling over weeks.

When Gillian had finally come to the conclusion that she couldn’t carry on like this, David met her with an immense amount of sympathy and appreciation. He’d been the one encouraging her to make whatever changes she had to in order for her to be able to take and do whatever she needed to remain happy and healthy. In the end, Gillian was quite surprised to find out just how invaluable her intimacy with David and the sheer feeling of being a desirable human being was to her sanity after all. And that by regaining some of her emotional and personal space, she quickly became much more relaxed and approachable again.

For Eaden, it seemed to have similar effects. She appeared to be much more independent and mature all of a sudden, boldly exploring her surroundings without looking back in search for Gillian quite that often anymore. But she was struggling to accept all the other ways to be close to her mother as the new and sole sources for comfort and security, and that nursing wasn’t one of them anymore.

She simply didn’t understand what was going on, and her coping strategies varied from crying for Gillian at night, throwing tantrums and downright begging to very creative attempts to change her mother’s mind, like pulling coy and funny faces, or even offering Rufus Gillian’s ‘na-na’s’. “Omise na-na Ufus, Mommy,” she would say, probably thinking that her mother was too polite to say no to Rufus when he’d already been promised something.

The look of rejection on her child’s face was unbearable though, as was having to say “No” over and over again, no matter how sweetly Eaden was looking at her. Or how heartbroken she was over the loss of her favorite stuffed animal.

“She probably thinks we keep punishing her, David. And of course, she has no idea why we’d do that.”

Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t argue with that. It did indeed feel like they were pulling the safe ground they’d tried to build over the last two years right from underneath their child's’ little feet.

Nothing had ever been really easy with Eaden. Maybe it was because of their own, rather advanced age for being the parents of a baby, or the fact that she was definitely their last child, but both him and Gillian were incredibly attached to this kid.

David only knew that guilt was playing a big part for himself. Not only that they weren’t living together and working all over the world, therefore dragging the little one from one place to another, but because their daughter had two parents who would probably not be able to be by her side for the bigger part of her life. He could be extremely grateful if he’d make it to her thirties. And that… didn’t feel really good.

Being aware of that, they were working hard on providing her with a secure, nurturing environment and making sure she always felt safe and loved.

Right now though, it seemed like they were failing miserably. Or maybe, he thought as he was looking at them, it was just him who was failing his daughter, and Gillian, by constantly being away from them.

“You’re a terrific mother, Gillian. I know I don’t say it enough, but I’m constantly amazed how you handle all of this; four kids with completely different needs and expectations. Mostly by yourself.”

Gillian gave him a warm, lopsided smile and shook her head slowly. “I’m not by myself.”

“I-, I know you don’t see it that way… with Erin being around and the boys spending half the time with Mark. But when it comes down to it, it’s your opinion and your decision that counts. You are the mother and you know all of them better than anyone else.”

“David,” she said and held out her hand. He reached up immediately and took it in his. “I couldn’t be the mother I am, or trying to be, without you. I’m thankful every day that the three of you are the best father’s I could’ve possibly chosen. But this,” she made a circle like motion with her head, “is only possible because of you and me together. We haven’t seen each other in what, six weeks? And you come here, all the way from LA, knowing I won’t be here most of the time, just to watch the kids. Not just our kid, but mine as well.”

“That’s the least I could do after you’ve watched them for six weeks,” he stated.

“It’s only about being able to rely on each other. I have your back and you have mine, right?”

Right, he thought. Just sometimes, he felt like it wasn’t enough.

Eaden let out a soft whimper and turned her head, searching for David. “Daddy,” she murmured, extending her left arm towards him.

“Yeah, baby,” he said and let her wrap her tiny hand around his thumb before he closed his fingers completely around it. “Daddy’s here.”

The tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips as she borrowed her face deep between Gillian’s breasts and let out a content sigh.

“Come here,” David said softly, holding Gillian’s hand while she was climbing into the tub to join him, hissing when her heel met the water. “Careful.”

“It’s hot,” she said, squeezing his hand tighter.

He raised his right eyebrow and gave her an amused smile. “Hot? I’m sitting in here, it can’t be that hot for you.”

“I told you, I’m frozen to the bones. It probably feels hotter than it actually is.”

“Alright, take your time,” David nodded, putting his hands on her hips as she slowly climbed in.

When she was finally standing between his legs, he let his hands fall down to her upper thighs and leaned forward, placing soft a kiss against the mole on her right butt cheek before gently biting into her flesh, just where her ass met her thigh.

Gillian giggled and braced her arms on the edges of the tub to ease her body into the warm water. Once the bubbles had covered her breasts and his arms had come around her middle, she let out a satisfied moan and leaned back against his chest.

It was almost 8 pm now and all three kids were asleep. After getting Eaden to eat a couple of bites of the leftover mashed potatoes for dinner, Gillian gave her daughter a quick bath and rocked her to sleep before tucking her into her crib, not leaving until she was sure the little one wouldn’t wake the second she left the room.

The boys had been patiently waiting for her on Oscar’s bunk bed to tell her everything about their weekend with David. There was a brand new Star Wars Lego-set they’d started to build in the middle of the room, and they proudly showed her the letters they’d received from their teachers to inform their parents about their impeccable behavior in class in the last couple of weeks. The Lego-set, so they explained, was David’s reward for them. Gillian could barely contain the amused grin the entire time they were talking. David really was… something else. The relationship he had built with Oscar and Felix was a fascinating one. There was a great deal of respect, curiosity, friendship and lately, probably since Vancouver, she really thought she could see love between them, too. Something very similar to the love between a parent and a child, still developing its roots, but very beautiful to witness. Something Gillian had never dared to hope for it to happen.

She laid with the boys for a while, listening and cuddling before giving them both kisses and hugs good night, turning off the lights and leaving their room to search for David.

She found him in the master bathroom, already sitting in a bubble bath between a sea of lit candles. She felt like crying of gratitude for this sweet man.

“Feels good?” David asked softly.

“Hmm, feels like heaven. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yes, me too.”

“By the way, I stumbled upon that… huuuge Lego walker-thingy in the boys’ room.”

“Oh?” David chuckled almost nervously. “Am I in trouble?”

Gillian laughed. “No, of course not. It looks extremely expensive, though.”

David shrugged, cupped a handful of water in his palm and let it run down her upper arm. She smiled and leaned further back, resting her head beside his.

“Boy, I need a vacation. A very long one.”

“Hmm,” he nuzzled her cheek with his nose. “What are you thinking of?”

“I think of multiple things.”

“Of course you do,” David chuckled and brought his index finger up to her nose, placing a tiny bubble of soap on its tip.

“Hey!" she giggled girlishly and wiped her nose before giving him a chaste kiss.

"What are you thinking of?" he eventually asked, absently caressing her forearms with his thumbs.

"Hmm, a private rooftop or balcony pool from where you can see a beautiful, white beach.”

“Oh,” he nodded approvingly. “That sounds promising indeed.”

“A big bed.”

“One with enough space for all our children?”

“No!” she nudged him playfully in the side. “No kids.”

“No kids?”

“No. At least not the entire time. The big bed would be ours alone. Enough space to eat a big breakfast and read the papers in the mornings. Or for all the food I’d order from room service in the middle of the night while we’re all sprawled out, watching Trash TV. Or-”

“Or?”

“I don’t know… what else can you do in such a big bed with no kids around?”

David shrugged his shoulders. “I have no idea. It’s not like I’m used to having a big bed just for the two of us anymore.” God, he wasn’t even used to the way she felt in his arms anymore. Had she ever been this tiny?

“Yeah, true. Hmm, maybe we’ll think of something once we’re there.”

“So this is the beach vacation somewhere nice and warm?”

“It is, yes.”

“Maldives, maybe? One week with the kids and then another… for us? Just you and me, a private little house on the ocean with a balcony pool. You completely naked the majority of the time…” he said dreamily, and she started to giggle.

“Sounds so heavenly, can’t we go now?”

“That would be something, wouldn’t it?” he nodded.

“Seriously, David,” Gillian said and turned her head so that she could look into his eyes. “I can’t go that long without seeing you anymore. It’s… getting harder and harder every time. And it’s just that… sometimes, I feel like…” she paused, pondering her next words while stroking his forearm with her thumb absently, “...not that we’re neglecting our relationship per se, but that it… gets lost in the shuffle, sometimes. Often. You know, with work, and the kids, which is completely normal, but… I wish we’d have more time for ourselves. To do adult things…”

“Oh,” he said appreciatively and waggled his eyebrows, making her snort before she went serious again.

“Yes, those things, and just… explore places without pushing a stroller or without having to stop at every other ice cream stand. Go to museums, meditate together, spend a night in town, just,” she sighed, “we don’t necessarily have to do all those things, but it would be nice to at least have the time that we could if we wanted.”

“I know what you mean,” he nodded.

“But it’s mostly just the... mundane things that I miss the most. Like sharing a meal in the evenings, or going to bed together. Not having to sleep alone…”

“Yeah. I miss that, too,” he said with a sigh and rested his chin on her shoulder.

At least they were happy, that was what he was thinking when he was lying in bed alone on one of those many lonely nights these days. He felt whole knowing he was hers, and she was his, no matter where they were.

“So,” David said, “about the vacation…”

“Mh-hm,” Gillian hummed.

“Is it a good thing that I… booked us a weekend in Budapest in March? Just for the two of us?”

Gillian opened her eyes and blinked before looking back at him, surprise written all over her face. “What? Are you serious?”

David chuckled. “I am, yes. Being the only one who has full access to your schedule certainly has its perks when it comes to making a surprise perfect.”

“Oh my god, I love Budapest! I will show you all the beautiful sights! And I will give my friend Zoltan a call, who has a nice little restaurant there, and ask him if he cooks us the best Hungarian food you’ll find on this planet before we’ll head to the coolest bars you’ve ever been to! And because we also need some time to relax, we will go to one of their famous baths!”

“I love when you’re so excited. It’s adorable.”

“That’s really nice of you, David. I always wanted to do a city trip with you. And I would love to go on a nice shopping tour again. Budapest is great for shopping,” she nodded with enthusiasm, but then seemed to reconsider.”Although I can’t do that with you.”

“Why not? Didn’t you say that I’m a very patient shopping companion the last time we went together?”

“I did. But I can’t blink twice and the cashier already has your credit card in their hand,” she smirked at him.

“And? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you would’ve made it clear if you didn’t like a little bit of spoiling every now and then,” David winked and leaned in for a kiss.

“Hmm,” Gillian hummed approvingly.

“Am I right?” he prompted, his breath brushing against her neck.

“Mhh, yeah, you are. The apples don’t fall far from the tree, you know?” Gillian tilted her head to the side to give him better access to her skin.

“So I’ve heard,” he murmured, teasing her with delicate kisses so faint she didn’t dare to breathe, too afraid to miss a single one of them.His hands had started to roam over the flatness of her belly, fingertips tickling the sensitive skin between her breasts up her neck, and eventually drawing little circles right under her ear.

The simplest touches of his hands had the power to make her squirm like a cat in heat, unable to ignore her bodies basic needs. To be touched. To be loved.

They were lying there silently beside the occasional giggles while washing each other until the water started to turn too cold for her liking.

David knew that she could lie there for hours, refilling the tub with hot water every now and then, but he had something different in mind. It didn’t take a lot of convincing to make her get up and let him rinse both of them off before wrapping her in a big, fluffy towel.

He’d barely gotten a chance to dry himself off and she was impatiently pulling him back into the bedroom by his hand, her own towel left behind on the bathroom floor.

She fell back onto the mattress and pulled him on top of her, both giggling like two young people who’d just fallen in love with each other. Yet they were doing this for almost 25 years.

Languid kisses quickly turned into something more serious. Hands were roaming and hips grinding against each other for a little bit of relief. Their bodies were still warm and soft from their bath, and the sensation of skin to skin was unbelievably arousing.

Their breaths were coming in shorts pants when David broke away from Gillian and gently moved her into the middle of the bed, making sure that her head was comfortably propped up on a bunch of pillows before kissing his way down, caressing very scar and stretch mark on her perfect little body. There really wasn’t anything not beautiful about her.

He had just placed a couple of kisses on her pubis and outer lips when Gillian moaned out loud, and he quickly looked up from between her legs, surprised by her strong reaction. He hadn’t even come close her clit yet her back was arched and he already needed to shush her.

“Shh, not so loud,” he whispered, caressing her tummy with his flat palm, his smile giddy and reaching up to his eyes.

“David,” she said in a half warning, half desperate voice, glaring down at him. “It’s been six weeks with only my own fingers down there. I will scream this place down if you don’t continue, and nobody wants that to happen, right?”

“What about screaming it down because I’m continuing?” he teased, but earned nothing but a blank stare, telling him that she wasn’t in the mood for his jokes anymore.

He continued easy on her, his thumbs caressing her inner thighs, nuzzling her slit with his nose while kissing and licking the soft space between her pussy and her ass. She was dripping wet already, her hips softly rotating.

Her face was still relaxed, though. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed, bottom lip lightly tucked between her teeth. It was rare that she was so content and comfortable, only concentrating on the sensation of his touch, and he loved seeing her like that.

When she put her left foot flat on the mattress beside his shoulder, basically opening up for him, he knew the teasing was over, and she needed more.

The second loud moan didn’t come as unexpected as the first, but David had to retain himself from looking back and check if she’d closed the door earlier. She probably had. At least he hoped so.

As if she could read his mind, or maybe it was his slackened tongue that had given him away, she reached down and tangled her fingers in his hair.

“Relax. The door is locked,” she murmured, licking her lips in anticipation of what was coming next.

David rested his cheek against her inner thigh and glanced at her beautiful, open pussy right before him. It was sensory overload - the pink, glistening flesh with the perfect little nub poking out of the middle and that divine, feminine smell of hers.

She had never been shy about this particular part of her body, while there were others, much less private ones, that she didn’t feel entirely comfortable with, and wouldn’t let him look at for too long. It was a miracle that she’d let him get away with kissing her ass.

Her hand suddenly came in his vision, the index finger stroking his cheek a few times before she ran it through her folds.

“Whenever I did this, when I touched myself, and made myself come, I was thinking about you, and those long, skilled fingers of yours,” Gillian said, her voice low and sultry.

David swallowed, pressing his hips into the mattress. His cock was hard as a rock. Almost painfully so.

“About your lips on my clit. Or just about you… fucking me.”

“How?” David coaxed out, watching two of her fingers disappearing into her wetness. “How did I fuck you?”

“Hard. You fucked me hard, David. Like you did in that tent on the last day of shooting. You remember that, right?” she asked, pressing herself against her palm.

How could he possibly forget that? It had been a tent with no solid walls in the middle of the set. Everyone could’ve walked in at any given time.

“I remember,” David nodded thoughtfully. What a great memory it was. “You weren’t able to keep your voice down back then either.”

“Hmm. What can I say,” Gillian said, pulling her fingers out and resting them on his bottom lip. With a growl, he opened his mouth and welcomed them in. “You do this to me.”

“Hmm,” he hummed around her fingers, swirling his tongue around them.

“Were you planning on fucking me tonight?”

David huffed, pushed her hand aside and leaned down and sucked her clit between his lips.

“You bet I was,” he murmured against her hot flesh. “Fuck babe, when I’m done with you, you won’t be able to walk for the rest of the week,” David added and dove in for good, sucking as much of her tender flesh into his mouth as possible, rubbing her clit with the flat of his tongue.

She’d braced herself on her elbows, watching him with a smug expression on her flushed face, and it was the hottest thing on earth. She was a demanding lover with very high expectations; a woman who knew exactly what she needed, and how to get it. When you got her looking at you like that…

“Oh fuu-huck,” Gillian moaned and threw her head back, nails digging into the mattress, bunching the sheet between her fingers.

… or moaning for you like that, you could consider yourself the luckiest guy on earth. Because this was… mind altering. Unbelievably fucking sexy.

His erection felt hot and gigantic between his pelvis and the mattress, pulsating with each heartbeat. He couldn’t help himself but grind it against the soft sheet, again and again, probably leaving one hell of a wet spot there.

Her hips bucked up against him, and he felt a new rush of her hot wetness on his lips that he greedily lapped up.

“Hmm,” David hummed, watching her in wonder.

A single strand of hair was now sticking on one side of her face, and he could see a soft layer of sweat glistening on her forehead. She was licking her lips, biting them, pouting, opening her mouth only to press her lips together a couple of seconds later, then opening it again for a low moan. There was so much happening on her face at once, he just couldn’t look away. With every lick and every suck, her expression changed.

Eventually, she opened her eyes again and met his gaze.

“So close,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question. “So beautiful.”

At the same time as she reached down, David reached up and took her hand in his, giving it a light squeeze and put both of their hands down beside her hip.

His other hand snuck under her thigh and lifted her leg over his shoulder and onto his back, surrounding himself with her almost completely before putting his mouth back on her pussy, gently nibbling and licking, building the tension once again.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to control her breathing. She squeezed her thighs around his head and lifted her hips, hoping he would get the cue.

He didn’t disappoint. Of course not.

His free hand snuck between her legs, and she could feel his thumb entering her as the rest of his hand came to a rest between her butt cheeks.

“Oh god,” Gillian whimpered as he started to draw his middle finger around her anus with gentle pressure, spreading her wetness all over it. “David… fuck.”

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he said softly, his eyes not leaving her face anymore. This was going to be so, so good.

“Ye-hes,” she whimpered and bucked into his face, inner muscles clenching around his digit.

His tongue sliced back and forth, up and down and in circles over her pulsing clit, lips sucking rough and relentless.

“Ahh,” Gillian cried out, and he knew her release was lingering so, so close now.

He pressed his finger a little firmly against her anus, and suddenly, she was grabbing a handful of his hair, twisting it between her fingers while she squeezed his other hand, her whole body jerking.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Dave- fuuuck,” she screamed, and he couldn’t do anything about it but enjoy and watch in awe as she came... so fucking hard.

It lasted longer than ever before, and when she finally slumped back onto the mattress with an exhausted groan, he slowly removed his hand and kissed her inner thighs, staying with her while she was calming down.

“Oh my god, oh god,” she breathed after a while and put both of her hands over her face, letting her leg slide off his shoulder.

Gillian completely zoned out for a couple of moments, and when she finally opened her eyes again, he was lying beside her again, a lopsided grin on his beautiful, slick lips.

“David,” Gillian whispered and turned towards him. His arm came around her waist and pulled her close to his chest.

“That was incredible,” he said and stroked the small of her back, feeling goosebumps rising underneath his fingertips. She was still incredibly warm, and so soft.

“That was loud,” she corrected and looked at him sheepishly, her forehead bumping against his'.

“Yeah,” he nodded, gently thrusting his erection against the soft skin of her belly. “We better save that for our vacation next time, huh?” David whispered and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

#relationship goals #gillovny #gillovny rpf #rpf #txf rpf #alternate universe #gillovny trash #moving forward #my writing

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elizehurley-blog · 5 years

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Why men return after parting: the opinion of a psychologist

New Post has been published on https://www.withallwomen.com/why-men-return-after-parting-the-opinion-of-a-psychologist/

Why men return after parting: the opinion of a psychologist

Why do men return to their ex? No, rather: why are they returning at that moment when we have already lost our temper, resigned to the collapse of old love and parting, have come to life, have perked up and finally found the strength to move on after the experience? And it is necessary for this to happen, so that it is now on the threshold, as if a devil from a snuffbox, which seemed to have long ago been boarded up and covered with dust, the former lover appeared. What controls them? What is the psychology of the returnee?

⇔ Why they return after parting: male psychology in 8 types

No institution has yet bothered to give us official statistics with accurate data on how many men return to their wives and girls after a break in their relationship and how it all ends. Popular wisdom is broadcasting a broken cup that you can’t stick together anymore. Family psychologists mumble something vaguely about 30% – agree, the figure is not so small! And your heart is anxiously frozen at a crossroads and can’t decide whether to slam the door in front of the Exe or to open it wide and test the strength of the glued dishes together with personal experience.

Lonely cowboy

Once he left you with his head held high, confident that he would easily find a new partner. However, as time went on, our free hunter never got a regular girlfriend, the occasional passions were weary, and the dusty bachelor lair, cold bed and dumplings with fried eggs stood across the throat. “Ex” poraznul brains, went to the leaves of the notebook and remembered you.

However, no one argues that in this situation, in any case, you will play the role of an alternate aerodrome. The human psyche is tripled so that over time, bad things – clashes, quarrels, disagreements – are erased from memory, but the good moments come out brighter. It starts to seem like your couple is really made for each other, because once you were so good together! Perhaps, having pushed around for some time alone, the man sincerely began to yearn for you and finally rang the bell at your door.

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Owner

It is extremely difficult for a certain category of men to realize the fact that a woman, which they had previously considered their own, is once again free and free to start a relationship with anyone. While the social circle of the former “half” is limited exclusively to friends and relatives, the owner does not even think about it. But as soon as a fan with serious intentions appears, the “ex” gets up in a fighting stance and starts besieging the former lady of the heart with romantic signs of attention, declarations of love and pleading for a second chance. Alas, if you go with the “hero-lover” on the occasion, after a while the conquered woman will again become uninteresting to him: for this type, the main thing is to restore the right of ownership.

Why men return after parting

Connoisseur of beauty

Once you have completely devoted yourself to your beloved. With the same care, they ceased to look after themselves, to communicate, to develop as a person, plunging into the world of home comfort, rich borscht and – if by that time your couple managed to get children – diapers. The spouse did not appreciate the victim and quickly found himself the one whose waist was already, and the outlook was wider. You did not become discouraged, how should you have taken up yourself and again turned into a charming young woman, able to shine a chiseled figure on the beach and wit in small talk. No wonder that the unfaithful lover again cuts circles around you!

Elusive avenger

Do you think men who are able to spend a lot of time and effort to punish the girlfriend who left them, exist only in the movies? Nothing like this! There is nothing worse for such a subject than to see your happy face, while, in his opinion, you should be in deep mourning for your separation. And there is no revenge sweeter than, returning everything to full circle, to throw you. It is desirable more painful.

Great experimenter

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Unlike the type from the previous example, this man is absolutely sincere in his desire to start all over again. In search of new adventures, his calling is not the cooled passion and not conflicts in the family, but the eternal thirst for new sensations. And how, I wonder, will work with that woman? And with this? Better or worse than with you? He may well “go” to live with his mistress, and then come home with a chic bouquet in his hands and penitential prayers in the language. Do not flatter yourself: as soon as a new attractive object for research flashes on the horizon, your scholar-practitioner will go off into the sunset. One of the most common varieties of “experimenters” is not at all windy boyfriends, but husbands with solid experience of family life. At home they have all the size, boring, predictable. And the soul, slain by a sudden mid-life crisis, requires change and new accomplishments. However, having gone to his mistress with a scandal, a man suddenly begins to understand: novelty is boring, enchanting sex cannot compensate for the absence of some established habits, and the need to re-rub one’s character with a young wife is very tiring. And he begins to remember more often about his abandoned wife, if not so young and cheerful, but dear, beloved and understanding him from half a word. If the ex-wife decides to accept the traitor back, the couple has every chance to reunite.

Good father

Children – a good reason for the restoration of the family. A man who sincerely loves his child, often makes a choice in his favor, so as not to leave the kid in the “half” family or in the care of his stepfather. Adequate spouses who know how to resolve their differences without mutual insults and hysterics can build a fairly successful alliance on such a basis, even if without ardent love. But if the father and the mother are not able to say five words to each other so as not to start a quarrel, there is not the slightest sense in the return: it will be only to their detriment to the child.

Responsible

There is a separate category of men who faithfully believe that the former girlfriend will disappear without them. In order not to let the poor girl disappear into the wilds of everyday problems, go downhill or lay hands on themselves, they return and, having clasped their teeth, live together with the unloved, consoling themselves with the thought of their own nobility.

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Together closely, apart boring

ABOUT! This is a very special category of families, the heat of passion in which Shakespeare would envy! Dishes in such houses are piled up, objects are whistled in the air like shells, and pets have their own corner where you can safely wait out another storm that broke out between the hosts. The reason for the scandal and parting can serve any trifle from the stranger’s accidentally caught glance on the street to the kefir that was not bought on time. However, after living some time apart, they both begin to realize that they are missing each other, and converge again. For the sake of justice, I must say that even the most temperamental man is not capable of doing this alone: both of them are initiators of endless partings and reconciliations, until one of the couple is bored with life in the eternal battle zone.

⇔Superglue for a broken cup: whether to take a repentant guy or husband

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Not so important is the reason why the former was suddenly kindled by the desire to reconnect with you, like the question of what to do with it. First of all, do not break the wood. Nostalgia is a strong thing, but in this case it will be actively supported by natural female pride (it is always pleasant to realize that you could not be forgotten) and no less natural female pity – poor thing, he is so bad without me, he realized everything! Do not give in.

Even if you are free and not averse to trying to restore old relationships, take a pause for yourself to think. Remember, because of what quarrels between you had erupted before. What partner habits caused irritation in you? What claims did he make to you? Are you sure that now you can cope with all this better than before?

Find yourself an adviser from among those whom you trust completely; often from the outside the situation seems clearer. But it must be a really close, time-tested person! Do not dedicate all your friends and acquaintances to your spiritual throwings – they will only add fuel to the fire with diverse advice and will completely confuse you

Discuss your views on life together with your former partner and listen to his opinion on this matter. Just do not thaw at the sound of the magic phrase “everything will be as you want, dear.” Now it is important for a man to be forgiven and allowed back, and he hopes that after this, everything will somehow settle down by itself. Of course, the “ex” will take into account the basic mistakes in their behavior. But it will come to you all with the same baggage of habits, beliefs and character traits, which was originally with him – remember this. After all, change your personality is incredibly difficult in principle.And only after having thought over everything, having analyzed the previous mistakes and having discussed the prospects of living together, make a decision. If during the time spent apart, you both matured, smoothed the rough edges of temper and learned how to find a compromise, everything is possible. But if people initially have different interests, needs and temperament, they are doomed again and again to attack the same rake.

Be careful in choosing triple if during this time you managed to meet another man and still he was completely satisfied with you. Collision with old love, which, as we know, does not rust, often turns the head and pushes us to mistakes. It seems that fate itself gives a second chance to those in love! But try to honestly answer yourself: would you regret if you rush headlong into the maelstrom of passion? Is it worth your windy crane, promising the seventh sky and the golden mountains, a gap with a modest and reliable tit in your hands, which you have never betrayed? Maybe it makes sense to try a little more to appreciate what you already have?

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#What controls them?#What is the psychology of the returnee?#Why do men return to their ex?

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