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suitofvibraniumarmor · 4 years

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Yours Truly [Part Seven]

Summary: Fourth of July is a family affair on the Pratt farm; something new sparks between Chris and Sadie. Pairing: Chris Pratt x OFC, Chris Evans x OFC Word Count: 1775 Warnings: Mentions of divorce and abandonment. A/N: This fic was previously posted on my multi-fandom account; in honor of OC Appreciation Day, I figured I would queue it all up for your reading pleasure throughout the day! This was a collab with @captain-s-rogers , and I will link her chapters at the end of all of my posts! Some GIFs were difficult to find again, so if there’s no credit, they’re from Google Image Search or from the original post.

July 4

Caroline,

Happy Fourth of July! Honestly, I don’t know who’s more excited for fireworks, me or Layla!

I’m including the pictures from the birthday party with this letter. We had so much fun! Layla said it was her best birthday ever, and that’s all I need to know. Her friends seemed to enjoy it, too, and Chris and his parents were happy with everything, so that’s good, too.

Chris’s parents are super nice, but they want to take Layla for the rest of the summer. Chris told them no, that he didn’t want to be away from Layla, and he doesn’t want Layla to be taken away from me. In light of some other things that were said, he’s going to talk with me later about what happened exactly between him and his ex-wife, while Kathleen and Daniel take Layla into town for a few things for the barbecue later on. They’re all at breakfast right now – I was invited to go, but I think some family time might be better for them.

We watched Chris’s rally last night, and I actually saw you! Looking powerful and professional as always. You’re rocking this job, C, I just know it. I’m hoping there are some more details in your next letters that come about what’s going on with you and your boss. (I’m a horrible influence, I know.)

There are more things I want to tell you, but I just can’t get them onto paper. Telling you always makes things real, and I want them to be real but they still seem so overwhelming to put on paper – maybe it’s time for a phone call? Miss you much, bestie!

Yours truly,

Sadie

After addressing, sealing, and stamping the envelope with the letter and pictures in it, Sadie left it in Kathleen’s trusted care to take into town and drop off for her. The post office would be closed, but the big blue box was always open.

Once Layla was gone with her grandparents, Sadie set to work in the kitchen preparing food for the mid-afternoon cook-out. Chris helped her by slicing up some vegetables for a tray while they talked.

“How was breakfast with your parents?” she asked.

“It was good, and much needed, like you said. Not that I’m happy admitting you were right,” he teased.

Sadie laughed lightly. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Hopefully you’re not upset, but I agreed to let Layla go up to Minnesota with them for a week when they head back. I’ll fly up the last couple of days to visit and bring Layla back with me.”

“Why would I be upset?” Sadie frowned. “She’s not my daughter, Chris, she’s yours. They’re her grandparents. Even if you had decided to send her up there for the rest of the summer, I would have been disappointed but not mad. It’s not my choice to make.”

“Thanks,” Chris said, piling a handful of celery sticks onto the tray. “I guess we could go ahead and talk about Emily.”

“Only if you want to.”

He let out a deep breath, deciding where to begin, exactly. “She left almost a year ago. Layla had just turned four, and I could tell Emily was getting restless. She wouldn’t talk to me about what was wrong, just grew more and more distant. Finally, one day, she told me she had met someone else and she was leaving. I told her,” he took another deep breath, “I told her that I wasn’t going to allow her to take Layla, to which Emily replied that she hadn’t planned on taking her.”

Sadie’s eyes grew wide. “I’m not saying that leaving you is any better, but how could she leave her own daughter behind? And willingly, at that.”

“Emily didn’t want kids when we started dating. By the time we were married, she had changed her mind without any convincing from me, and when she got pregnant with Layla, we were both ecstatic. It didn’t take long for her to remember why she didn’t want kids, I guess.”

Sadie’s eyes welled with tears; her heart broke all over again for both Chris and Layla. She tried to stop the tears, but it was to no avail.

“Hey, don’t cry, Adie,” Chris said, using Layla’s name for her as a means to cheer her up. He set down the knife and put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. “We turned out all right. We got you.”

“I know,” Sadie sniffled, “and I know it’s not about me. It just makes me so angry and so sad. You and Layla both deserve so much better.”

“You have a big heart,” Chris said, running his hand up and down her arm. “That’s what makes you so special to us.”

Sadie leaned her head on his shoulder. “I’m not going to save you deviled eggs just because you’re flattering me, you know.”

Chris laughed and went back to the vegetables. “Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Sadie laughed, too, and dried her tears. “Change of subject, but I might like to stick around while Layla’s gone, if that’s okay. Look for some jobs in the area.”

“Yeah, of course. You’re welcome to – hey, if you find one close to here, you’ll be around for harvest.”

“Come to think of it, what do you farm? I mean, I’ve been here for a month now, and I assumed it was wheat, but we’ve never actually talked about it.”

“Sunflowers,” Chris smiled, blushing a little.

Excitement beamed bright across Sadie’s features. “I love sunflowers!”

“Well, you’ll have to at least come around during harvest. I’ll make sure you get some good flowers.”

Their conversation flowed easily after that, with witty banter and flirty teasing. By the time Layla, Kathleen, and Daniel returned, it was as though they were old friends, comfortable and familiar.

The air smelled of bug spray and firecrackers by the time night fell. They were all full on hamburgers, hot dogs, and a variety of fruits and veggies – not to mention the desserts that Kathleen and Sadie had baked.

Layla had frosting smeared across her face, and her hands were sticky from a slice of watermelon. When they all set out lawn chairs to watch the fireworks the neighbors down the road were shooting off, she crawled onto her father’s lap and leaned her head against his chest. She was asleep before the fireworks even started.

“She had a long day,” Sadie commented.

Chris nodded, kissing the top of Layla’s head. “That she did, and I don’t think she was fully re-energized from her birthday.”

“I think you’re right.” She leaned her head back and sighed, watching Layla sleep. “I’m going to miss her next week. I haven’t been here that long, but it seems like it’s been forever.”

“Yeah, it does,” Chris said.

Sadie studied him for moment before turning back to the fireworks. There was a note of relief in his comment, and Sadie couldn’t help but feel encouraged for it. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who was feeling something more than what would normally be considered professional or even friendly when it came to the relationship with Chris.

She was in the midst of accepting that these feelings were actually happening when Chris confirmed that she was, in fact, not the only one feeling that way: he reached over and slipped his fingers through hers. Sadie tried not to smile too big, squeezing his hand a little in acknowledgement of the gesture.

The next morning, Sadie’s heart was still on a high from the night before. Holding hands with Chris while the fireworks exploded over them wasn’t something that she had expected to happen, especially within seconds of coming to terms with her own developing feelings.

She hummed all the way through making pancakes for breakfast, cleaning up the patio from the Fourth of July celebration, and doing the dishes that had been abandoned the night before. She smiled to herself through the laundry and through Layla’s counting lesson. By the time lunch rolled around, she was more than a little excited to see Chris come in from his outdoor work with Daniel that morning.

Chris, it seemed, was just as excited at the prospect of something new as Sadie felt. The two of them shared blushing glances and secret smiles all throughout lunch. They didn’t say much to each other, but he did wink at her on his way through the back slider when he returned to the fields.

After lunch, Kathleen laid down for a nap, and Sadie set about getting Layla packed for her trip.

“If I’m not leavin’ till tomorrow, why do I have to pack my clothes now?” Layla groaned, leaning on the edge of the mattress.

“First of all,” Sadie smiled, “I am packing your clothes, not you, little miss. Second of all, it’s good to be prepared.”

“It’s not ‘cause you want me to go away?”

Sadie zipped up Layla’s bag and sat on the bed, pulling Layla into her lap. “I never want you to go away, Layla, but I can’t keep you here all the time, either. That’s selfish.”

“You promise you’ll be here when I come back?”

“Of course! Me and Daddy are going to be so bored with you gone!”

Layla grew quiet and pensive, so Sadie set her back on the floor and double-checked around the room that she had packed everything.

“Are you taking your monkey or your goose to Grandma and Grandpa’s?”

“Goose,” Layla answered definitively. The pensive look returned to Layla’s countenance, but this time she verbalized her thoughts. “Sadie, are you gonna kiss Daddy?”

Sadie turned to Layla with her brow raised. “Kiss Daddy?”

Layla nodded, excited now that the subject was out in the open. “Yes! He was so sad when Mama left, but he’s happy now! And he says you’re a blessing, to both of us. And I know you was holding hands last night.”

“Oh, Layla …”

The little girl took Sadie’s hands. “It’s okay with me!”

“Oh, it is?” Sadie chuckled. “Can you keep a secret, sweetheart?”

Layla nodded. “Yes. Is it about Daddy?”

Sadie nodded, too, and crouched down in front of her. “And about you. I wasn’t sad before I came here, but I was kinda lonely. And I’m not, now that I’m here with you and Daddy.”

Layla flung her little body into Sadie’s hug. “That’s why you have to stay forever!”

Sadie hugged Layla tightly, not saying anything, but thinking, if only for that moment, she would be fine staying there forever with Chris and Layla.

Part Eight

#chris pratt #chris evans #fanfiction #oc appreciation day 2020 #new to this blog

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albionscastle · 5 years

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Rainy Night

I am on a weird kind of roll right now. I blame it on the photoshoot posted the other day...you all know the one. Lowden in a jumper I mean......it’s like porn.

Anyway this is just a oneshot, a girl with a crush gets caught in the rain, queue knight in woolly jumper.

FIC MASTERLIST

RAINY NIGHT

There were tears in your eyes as you gathered your things, waiting until you were sure that everyone else had left before you chanced opening the door. You didn’t want them to know that you had overheard them talking, not that it would matter in the slightest. In fact they would probably get even more pleasure from knowing that you had heard what was being said about you.

The lights were out down the hall and even your own people weren’t here this late. You could meander out, take your time and say your silent goodbyes. It was a shame, you thought sadly, you’d actually liked this job, even if it was only a temporary gig. Cutting it short a few weeks would hurt your bank account, but it would save your pride. Maybe.

You considered leaving your resignation on the counter, but no, your boss deserved more than that from you. You would show your face once more, tomorrow and hopefully have come up with a better excuse for quitting than ‘mean girls’ for leaving her in the lurch.

A noise startled you into jumping, spinning around with a yelp. The man standing in the doorway was the absolute last person on earth you wanted to see.

“Shit, sorry luv, didnae mean tae scare ye.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you levelled him with the blandest scare you could muster.

“I thought everyone had gone home for the night.” you managed to splutter.

“A few o us stayed back tae go over some lines.”

A few of us no doubt meaning his two co-stars, Tweedlebitch and Tweedlebitchier, the gossips who apparently lived just to make others miserable.

“Anyways,” Jack stepped further into the kitchen, his head tilted, frowning as he looked at you. “I came tae see if I could steal a piece o cake from the fridge. I didnae realize ye were still here.”

You’d had a feeling that he was the one who’d been doing just that, pretty much every day. Any other time it would have amused you to no end, catching him out like this.

“It’s on the third shelf.” you murmured instead, turning away and pretending to rifle through a folder. “Are ye ok lass?” his voice seemed closer and you took a deep breath to hold back your tears.

“I’m fine, long day.” you ground out, refusing turn around.

No way was anyone going to see you cry, least of all him.

His hand came to rest on your shoulder, just as it had a dozen times before. This time you shrugged him off roughly, still refusing to turn around, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Ya can talk tae me if ye need lass.”

You couldn’t help but hear the hurt in his voice which made you feel even worse. What was happening to you wasn’t his fault, he’d done nothing but be friendly.

“I’m just really tired,” and this was the last time you would ever see him, “I’ll be fine, I promise.” Not a chance, but he didn’t need to know that.

You held your breath until you were sure that he was gone, waiting even a few minutes after that to pull your shit together. Not a chance you were going to tell him what had upset you, he would know tomorrow anyway, rumors had a way of spreading fast. At least you wouldn’t be around to see his reaction when he realised the truth to it.

Your car was parked almost half a mile away and the walk in the chilly autumn air gave you time to think about what you’d heard. Jack’s co-stars also happened to be two of the most stunning women in the world. Playing sisters, they were both young, tall, blonde and perfect. They were also two of the rudest people you’d ever had the misfortune to deal with, and you’d been in customer service for years. From day one they’d fixated on you, the most inexperienced of the catering team, but it had mostly been stupid shit. The usual demands and complaints of the entitled. If you were honest, you’d enjoyed the looks on their faces every time that you’d been able to say no to them.

Jack, on the other hand had been a delight, charming everyone with his warmth and humor. The man had made the catering area his second home and there wasn’t a day that he was on set that he couldn’t be found there, usually begging for cake. He’d just been friendly, and since you did the baking, it was usually you that he was trying to charm.

It wasn’t his fault that you’d developed a huge crush, who wouldn’t? Even your boss, a robust matron, happily married with grandkids, sighed dreamily whenever Jack was around. You’d done a pretty damn good job of hiding your feelings, or so you’d thought until tonight. You shivered in the cool air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you trudged through the gravel, remembering what you overheard. You’d been cleaning up after a service, alone in the room when you’d heard them tittering, not realising you were still there.

‘Poor Jack,” Sonia, the eldest of the two, “I don’t know how he puts up with it, every day.”

The other one had murmured in agreement and your ‘spidey senses’ started tingling.

“I mean it’s just pathetic the way she moons over him when it’s so obvious to everyone, no shame whatsoever.”

“She’s totally clueless, and Jack tries so hard to be nice, it must be exhausting.”

You had frozen, white hot dread washing over you as they continued.

“Why she thinks he would even look at her is beyond me, not with the size of her ass.” Sonia giggled.

Your face had burned.

“Everyone is starting to notice, the silly cow is only going to be a laughing stock if she keeps this up. I mean, she makes those cakes every day just like she’s his mother.”

“She’s too ugly to even be a mother, who’d want to sleep with that?”

They’d dissolved into laughter as they left the room and you’d finished out the rest of the day in some kind of numb shock. You refused to leave the kitchen again, putting yourself on the much loathed dish duty until everyone left you alone.

You were so humiliated.

That it was apparently so obvious you had a thing for Jack was sickening, especially when you’d worked so hard to act normal around him. It was awful knowing that everyone knew, even worse, to feel like he’d just been taking pity on you this whole time.

In fact that was probably the worst part, if you were honest. You would never be able to face him again if all he felt was pity for the poor little fat girl with a hopeless crush, and you didn’t want him to be embarrassed. Jack had been so kind to you and the least that you could do was not put him in this position. It was better for him too if you just disappeared. Your heart would get over it soon enough. You hoped.

By the time you reached your car you were freezing and dying for the hoodie that you’d foolishly left on the front seat along with…..

“Son of a bitch!”

Your car keys at on top of your sweater, glinting mockingly at you through the locked door. Rummaging through your purse you looked for your phone, even though calling the lock out service at 8:30pm on a Sunday would take hours and cost a week’s pay if you were lucky. The memory of stuffing it in the front pocket of your sweater came at the exact moment you realised it wasn’t in your bag.

“Seriously!?” you yelled at the Universe. “What the fuck else could go wrong?!”

The Universe responded with a cold, fat raindrop hitting you in the nose, swiftly accompanied by several million of his closest friends. Within seconds you were soaked through, shivering and glad the rain was hiding the tears that ran down your cheeks. If you started walking now you might be able to hail a cab in town, in about an hour. Until then you were on your own, cold, wet and crying your way into a hysterical pity party.

At least your purse was waterproof.

So caught up were you in your misery that you missed the headlights coming toward you until the last minute, groaning when you recognized the vehicle.

Of course it was Jack, who else would just happen along at your worst moment? The Universe was officially a bitch.

“Y/N?” the passenger side window rolled down while Jack leaned over looking dry, warm and concerned.

“I’m fine Jack. I’m waiting for the lockout service.” you tried to smile, as if all was well, knowing you looked like a drowned rat.

Jack’s eyes narrowed.

“Bullocks Y/N, get in the car. I’m no leavin ye like this.”

“Really Jack, I’m fine.” you jumped at a loud clap of thunder, and then you saw the look on his face.

He wasn’t buying it, you could see his jaw twitching.

“Get in the car Y/N, before I throw ye over me shoulder an force ye in.”

His voice said it all, he was livid. You blinked once, trying to decide if he meant it. The look in his eyes said it all and you sighed before stepping over to the door and pulling it open.

“It’s too wet Jack, I’ll just ruin your seats.”

He stared at you, then undid his belt, hand on his door to open it. With a squeak you jumped inside, squishing into the seat and hanging your head.

“The fuck were ye thinkin stayin oot in the rain in this cold, are ye daft?”

He fiddled with the heat while he ranted at you, turning it on full blast and aiming all the vents at you. You couldn’t even answer, your teeth were chattering so much.

“Ye’re turnin blue woman!”

From the corner of your eye you saw him shrug out of his woollen jumper and holding it out to you.

“Put it on before ye freeze tae death.”

You looked at the jumper like it was offensive, it was bad enough that you were dripping all over his car. This was. No.

“I’ll be fine till I get home.” you managed through clenched teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice you shaking.

He simply sat, brows raised until you sighed and took it from him. Aware you were acting like a spoiled child you started to pull it on.

“Is no goin tae do ye any good if ye donnae take off tha wet shirt first ye numpty.”

No way. There was not a chance in hell you were going to take off your shirt in front of him. Even if he did have a very valid point, damn him. Jack, naturally noticed your hesitation. “I’ll close me eyes an turn away if tha helps.” he shrugged, doing just that. “Is no like there’s anythin left tae hide anyway.” he muttered.

You looked down at yourself and groaned loudly, realising your white shirt was completely translucent. Jack chuckled under his breath as you quickly peeled it off, your soaked bra doing almost nothing to cover you in the cold. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you and you pulled on his jumper, wishing you could literally be anywhere than with him right now. Tears filled your eyes again as the warmth from his body and the smell of him eveloped you. He was by far the nicest man you’d ever met and, as usual, you’d managed to make an arse of yourself around him. You knew what you were, and what people thought of you, especially men. That Jack now had a taste of how unattractive you were underneath your clothing was just humiliating. You could only hope that he didn’t think any of this had been a lame attempt to lure him in.

“Where’s home luv?” Jack finally spoke up, looking at you as you slowly stopped shivering.

“Just take me to the nearest hotel.”

“House keys too huh?”

“Yup, when I decide to fuck up I like to make sure that it’s a complete disaster.”

Jack laughed, pulling the car onto the road.

“Ah’ve seen worse, fuck in school I did worse. Donnae sweat it yeah.”

“Easy for you to say.” you muttered under your breath.

“Seriously lass, we’ve all had shite happen, ye canna let it derail ye.”

Too late, you thought bitterly, watching the landscape through the rain. If it had just been the keys it would have been a completely different kettle of fish.

“There’s a Holiday Inn up there.” you responded instead, seeing the lights up ahead.

“Aye, I see it.” Jack murmured, completely missing the exit. “I’m no leavin ye at a strange place wi no phone and no clothes.”

“It’s a motel Jack, not a crackhouse.”

“Doesna matter, I’m no goin tae leave ye stranded like tha. Ye can stay at my place and we’ll call the lockout in the morning.”

The tone of his broked no opposition and inside you panicked, even though you simply nodded tightly. You were swiftly learning that there was no arguing with this man. Instead you spent the rest of the drive in silence, squishing uncomfortably in your wet jeans and feeling more guilty with every passing minute.

“Shite! I didna even think tae ask if ye needed tae call anyone tae let them know ye won’t be home.”

“Like who?” you laughed.

“I dunno, yer man mebe.” Jack shrugged, turning to look at you as you burst out laughing.

“Yeah ok Jack, funny. Do you think if I had a boyfriend I would have asked you to drive me to a motel?”

“Well, no, but still I didna wan tae step on any toes.”

“Fat chance of that.” you muttered, looking out the window again.

There hadn’t been a boyfriend in….well ever if you were honest. Of course there had been a couple of...you didn’t even know what to call them, but you’d learned early on that they weren’t boyfriends, no matter how much you’d hoped otherwise. You had come to terms with it long ago.

Of course Jack didn’t know that, but since you’d apparently been so obviously fawning all over him it should have been quite apparent.

“Why do ye say it like tha?” Jack sighed, pulling into a small parking garage.

“Huh?”

“Nevermind. Home sweet home!”

You followed Jack to the lift, cringing at the squeaky, wet noises you made as you walked and the mess you were inevitably leaving in your wake. Jack stopped in front of his door, opening it to step inside and turn on a light. One look at the immaculate and shiny hardwood floor had you hesitating. “Come on in lass, I promise ye is no a trap, unless ye wan tae be my prisoner. In which case the cuffs are in the bedside drawer.” he said with a wink that stopped you in your tracks.

You knew it was a joke, deep down, but a part of you still jumped in excitement at the subtle flirt. Just as it always did when Jack flirted, which was pretty much any time he opened his mouth. On a better day you would have countered him with a preference for scarves, but not now. Not knowing that he would probably think you were really flirting with him. Your bantering had taken on a whole new meaning now.

Offering him a weak smile instead, you stepped into his flat, closing the door behind you and standing there in your puddle. You watched as Jack walked around, gathering some things from the dryer and moving them to the bathroom.

“Go take a shower luv, there’s dry clothes fer ye and I’ll throw yer wet ones in the wash.”

The thought of hot steam and warm clothes was too strong to offer him any resistance and you soon found yourself standing under the hot water trying to figure out exactly how you’d managed to end up here. The events of the day seemed so far away, almost as if they didn’t happen. It was only when you had dried yourself and reached for something to wear that it all hit home for you again. Even fresh from the wash, Jack’s clothes smelled like him and despite your extra pounds, they somehow still hung on you. The flannel pants were too long and you had to roll the waistband until they barely perched on your hips. Same deal with the jumper he’d given you. He’d also given you a t-shirt and you probably would have been warm enough with it alone but that did not fit well enough across your chest for comfort. No way were you going out there in that with no bra on.

Eventually you gathered the courage to exit the bathroom, wet clothes balled up in your hands.

“And she lives!” Jack was grinning at you like a loon from the kitchen. “Let me take those fer ye.”

Before you could refuse, he’d lifted your clothes from your hands, shaking them into the washing machine. Your cheeks felt hot when you saw your underthings in his long fingers, and not just because you’d been wearing what you called your ‘utility’ bra. Any underthings able to keep your ‘assets’ in check seemed to lack any kind of feminine embellishment.

Boring and uninspired and not even close to being sexy. Just like you.

It seemed that Jack’s flat was much like him, attractive but unassuming, warm, inviting and comfortable. Despite yourself it was easy to relax into the soft couch and eat heartily when he brought you a sandwich. Jack hunted for something to watch, settling on some dancing reality show, while you gradually felt more comfortable. It seemed he wasn’t aware of the rumors and since you were still determined to walk away, you decided to enjoy this while you could.

“Why’d ye let those two cows upset ye so much?” he spoke suddenly, causing you to choke on your food in shock.

His hand thumped your back a few times while you coughed and sputtered trying to catch your breath again.

“What are you talking about?” you managed between coughs, aware that his hand was now rubbing your back gently.

“Don try tae act like ye donna know, Y/N. Ye weren’t the only one in the room.”

Oh. Holy. Fuck.

“Who else heard?” you whispered, trying to physically curl up into yourself, anything to escape.

“Jus me, no one else. I didnae hear all of it, but I heard enough. They knew ye were there.”

“Of course they did.” you muttered. “I’m not stupid.”

“Aye, but ye are a bit daft luv. Ye canna let them get tae ye like that.”

“Easy for you to say Jack.” Suddenly you were angry at them, at yourself and at him, how could he just brush it all off like that?

“Did it ever occur tae ye tha they only said any of it tae upset ye? They’re just jealous.”

You scoffed, knowing it was all true.

“What reason would they have to be jealous of my fat arse? Get into the real world Jack.”

“Why do ye talk about yourself like tha?”

“Like what? I have a fat arse, it’s not like anyone can miss it.”

“I’ve spent enough time looking at yer arse tae know it’s perfect just the way it is.” That stopped you. Staring at him wordlessly you saw him shrug matter of factly.

“Tansy is jealous because she’s built like a piece o wood, and Sonia? Suffice tae say she’s a right bitch when she doesna get what she wants.”

“What?” you swallowed hard, still stunned by his bald statement about your rear end. “What didn’t she get?”

“Me, lass.”

“Why would, what, I’m confused.”

Jack laughed, his hand moving to tousle your hair before standing.

“Let me get us a drink an I’ll tell ye the whole sordid tale.”

He came back to the couch with a couple of beers, waiting until he’d taken a few gulps before he spoke.

“Now then, where were we?”

“Sordid tale.”

“Righ, ok so ye remember the first day on set yeah? All the introductions an the like?”

“Vaguely, the catering staff weren’t really a big part of that.”

“But I met ye tha day, remember? I kept buggin ye fer another piece o cake.”

“I seem to remember being following around by a child whining about thirds.”

Jack’s eyes narrowed at your small smirk.

“Yer cruel lass, tha day too. Ye told me I needed tae watch my figure.”

“Eh, I vaguely remember something of the sort.” you shrugged, enjoying his small chuckle against the bottle at his lips.

“Anyway, I took my poor, bruised ego off tae my trailer tae get settled an it turned oot I wasna alone.”

Your eyes widened.

“Sonia had managed tae get in an was jus sittin there in heels, ye ken?”

Oh you kenned, the thought of it made you cringe.

“What did you do?” Did you even really want to know.

“I told her tae get dressed and leave, tha I wasnae interested. Believe me when I say she didna take it well.”

You just stared at him blankly.

“Well first she tried tae change my mind, an well,” his cheeks reddened, “when she couldna get a…..rise, she left me alone.”

Awkward.

“But I don’t understand what her striking out with you has to do with me.”

Jack looked at you, confusion evident on his face.

“Wow, ye really don’t do ye?”

“Perhaps someone should explain it to me?” you ground out.

“First, tell me summan. Is there any truth tae what they said?”

“Which part?” you squeaked, gulping down your beer, hoping to avoid the question.

“The part where ye haf a thing fer me.”

Please, you thought, please just let the ground open up and swallow me up. Right now. Please.

You sputtered rather than answering, eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but at him. For a second you actually thought about denying it, but really, what was the point? He already knew, everyone already knew and it wasn’t going to make things any better if you denied it.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath you met his gaze, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” you whispered. “I thought I was doing a better job of hiding it. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable.”

And if you could just be struck by lightning right now and put out of your misery that would be great, you thought as Jack remained silent.

“You don’t have to worry about it. I won’t be back on set. I’m resigning. It was never my intention to cause this much drama.”

“Are ye oot of yer mind woman! Why would ye do tha? Can ye no think fer one second why Sonia would focus on ye like this?”

You were so startled by the harshness of his tone that you didn’t know what to say.

“It’s ye she’s jealous of.”

The laugh you emitted was sharp even to your ears, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“She’s got absolutely no reason to be jealous of me, Jack.”

Jack sighed, putting down his beer before wiping his hands on his jeans.

“She’s go every reason tae be jealous o ye Y/N. Ye’re smart, talented, kind, funny, lovely and, well hot.”

Your head spun toward him, not believing your own ears. Jack turned, inching closer on the couch, his hand reaching out to brush damp hair away from your face.

“But the number one reason why she singled ye out Y/N is because it’s you I want, no her.”

Your heart beat erratically in your throat, eyes wide in disbelief as Jack’s fingers traced along your jaw. You shivered as he touched you, your fingers twisting in the wool of your jumper. This had to be some kind of mad hallucination, probably brought on by hypothermia. Ten to one you were laying in a rainy ditch somewhere this whole time.

Jack’s eyes caught yours, bright blue and intense as he tilted his head toward you. Keeping his eyes on yours his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, the rough bristles of his beard scraping against your tender skin. He smiled against you, your eyes finally fluttering shut as his mouth pressed firmly against yours. His hands cupped your cheeks, tongue taking advantage of your gasp to snake across your teeth and into your mouth. An arrow shot of heat travelled down your spine, stabbing into your lower belly. You shuddered, hearing him chuckle as he broke away.

“If tha doesna make ye understand then nothin will.”

You opened your eyes to the sight of him in front of you, his cheeks flushed pink, lips slightly swollen and damp, his eyes both soft and wanted. He was right, you were convinced, even if you didn’t understand why. You felt a surge of confidence, a lightness unlike any you’d felt before and your lips spread into a smile. Your usual good humor had returned.

“I’m not sure I’m there yet, I’m super hard to convince.”

“Is tha so lass?” Jack’s gaze turned positively wicked. “Lets see what I can do about that shall we?”

You yelped as he moved lightning, dragging your body to straddle his lap. He looked up you now, fingers threading through your hair before sliding down your back to your waist.

“Remember when I said tha Sonia couldna get a raise?”

“Mmmm hmmm.” you murmured, your fingertips exploring his face.

His palms slid down over your rear and for a moment you felt self conscious, until he caught your eye and you saw the heat there. With a grin he pressed you closer until, with a gasp you were pressed up against him completely, the hard length of him between your thighs.

“As ye can tell I donae haf tha problem wi ye. In fact, half the time it’s all I can do tae hide this.”

He swiveled his hips against you, his lips and tongue smothering your moan as his hardness rubbed against your aching center. The kiss grew rough as you rocked against him, fingers tugging at his hair, his hands guiding you into a rhythm that had you panting into one another’s mouths. Jack’s hand slid up under your jumper, breaking the kiss long enough to yank it off over your head before returning to bite at your mouth and jaw. The pressure between your legs was almost unbearable, the layers of clothing failing to provide the friction you needed.

Desperate for breath you broke away, chest heaving as you dragged air into your lungs.

“Fuck love, ye are incredible.” Jack growled, staring at where the thin cotton of his shirt strained over your breasts. Another body part that you were particularly sensitive about and Jack noticed. He liked his lips, mouth open as he continued to stare, raising a hand to palm your breast, his thumb stroking your nipple to life. You sucked in a breath, your hips grinding against him as he ran both hands over you, scraping and pinching, every touch a dart of want into your belly.

“Jack!” you hissed, his teeth scraping you through the fabric.

“Ye haf no idea how much I’ve wanted ye, luv.” he muttered. “I know ye didna know it, but every time I saw ye I had tae try so hard tae hide it. I dreamed of touching ye here…” His hand cupped your breast gently.”....every where Y/N, I’ve dreamed o touchin ye everywhere.”

A brief and unwelcome thought flashed into your mind, was he just the same as the rest of them? Only interested in one thing from you? Jack must have seen it in your eyes because he stopped everything, his knuckles stroking your cheek.

“I’m mad fer ye darlin, and it’s no jus fer this. I need ye tae know tha, I didna intend fer this tae happen. I was actually working up the courage tae ask ye out tonight, till those two bitches fucked that up. Nothin is going tae happen tonight…” Jack smiled ruefully. “..well nothin more than this. I wan tae at least go tae dinner a few times before we jump intae bed. I’m pretty sure that neither one o us are lookin fer a one-time or casual thing.”

“Right.”

“Obviously, when the time is right….” his eyes swept hotly over you. “You and me are goin tae be dynamite.”

“You seem pretty sure of yourself.” you arched a brow at his smug grin.

Which quickly turned into a look of panic.

“I mean….if ye wan tae go out wi me tha is….”he stammered for a moment.

“I meant about us being dynamite you goob.” “Ohhhhhhh.” he looked abashed for a second before his eyes glinted wickedly again. “I can give ye a preview if ye wan.”

You leaned down, your nose brushing against his.

“I wan.” you whispered, mimicking his accent. “Then we can talk about dinner.”

He sucked in his breath with a hiss as your teeth bit at his neck.

“Ye’re goin tae be the death o me aren’t ye lass?”

“I’m going to try very hard.”

“Speakin o hard.” his mouth was hot against your ear as he grabbed your hand from his hair, guiding until your palm rested against his length.

“I would say that qualifies.” you agreed, tentatively squeezing him through his jeans, just enough for him to throw his head back and moan.

His hips bucked under your hand, thighs shaking beneath yours. Every slide of your hand gave rise to a new noise ripped from his throat. The sight of him below you, his teeth biting his lip, fingers gripping your hips as he jerked and sighed was almost enough to finish you off. You wanted his mouth again, brushing your lips over his until he pressed back. His head surged forward, one hand cupping the back of your head as he almost devoured you. His other hand slid over the front of you, his fingers dipping just under the rolled waistband of your pants.

Jack’s mouth left yours long enough to mutter, “Jus a preview, right?”

He waited for your nod before kissing you again, his hand moving to cup between your thighs, his fingers rubbing gently along the center of you. Your cry was swallowed by his tongue, his hips grinding against your hand. You could feel him throbbing through his jeans, the knowledge that it was your touch getting him off pushing you almost to the edge. His fingers moved against you, your hips rolling against them until they were exactly where you needed them.

Your whole body shuddered as your movements feel into matching rhythms, his fingers, your hand, your hips all moving perfectly. So close, you were so close and you couldn’t breathe, your head falling to rest on his shoulder. His ragged breath was hot in your ear, his free hand tangling in the hair at the back of your head, yanking your head back so he could run his tongue up the front of your neck. “Now imagine mah mouth instead of mah hand, or both,” he gritted his teeth as your nails scraped over him through his jeans in response. “I’m good wi both.”

His toungue flicked out against your mouth as his fingers dipped and stroked the center of you. I was almost enough, and yet you still wanted so much more. You whimpered, hips rolling against his hand, feeling him twitch under your fingers.

“Look at me.” he said roughly, tugging your hair until you met his eyes. “I wan tae see yer face when I make ye come.”

Your body jerked, the heat in your belly boiling as you felt the telltale ripple inside you.

“Yes, jus like tha darling. I’ll be right behind ye.”

You were so ready, but you didn’t want it to end, you had never felt this good, no one had ever worked your body this skillfully. Certainly no one had ever made you orgasm without even touching your skin, this was, just…….

You wailed at the moment his thumb pushed in as far in as your clothing allowed, just that tiny penetration was enough to make you fly apart. Your thighs clenched around his hand as your body writhed and shuddered on his lap, whimpering as his fingers keeping rubbing, drawing it out longer than you’d ever experienced before.

“Christ love, tha was gorgeous.” he grunted as you started to breathe again. Your hand still had him in a vice grip, his length jerking and swelling under your fingers. As he had done you watched his face as his head fell back, gasping for air as you slid your other hand down, cupping and scraping his balls, matching the rhythm of your hands.

“Fuck! God, that’s good, I’m so close….” his neck and face were red, sweat on his brow as his whole body strained against you. His hips started jerking uncontrollably and he let out a yell as he came, his back arching and his hands gripping the couch.

You watched as he shuddered back to Earth, his limp arms reaching up to wrap around you, pulling you against him as he breathed into your hair. Long minutes passed as you burrowed into one another’s necks, your heart finally beating at a normal rate, his breath now calm. Pulling back you ran your eyes over his face, still pink and sweaty, his hair sticking up all over the place. He looked…

“Well tha was satisfying. In fact tha was fucking incredible Y/N.” Satisfied was the word you’d been looking for. It was perfect, you could only imagine how satisfied you would feel when he was finally inside you.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate one, which led to a self assured gleam in his eye. He knew exactly how good he had made you feel and he certainly wasn’t ashamed of it. Or of you.

He proved it all night when every time he woke his mouth would brush against your neck as you snuggled against him. It felt amazing and unreal to wake up to his alarm, his arms tight around you until you both absolutely had to get up. For the first time you didn’t feel self conscious changing in front of him, in fact you enjoyed the frustrated grunt he gave when he watched you pull off your shirt leaving your chest bare to his hot gaze.

“Do me a favor today?” he came up to you as you tucked your t-shirt into your pants, all clean and dry now.

“What’s that?”

“Wear this over your shirt.” he handed you a button down shirt, specifically one that was uniquely and obviously his. Everyone would know it was his and the thought made your cheeks feel hot. “It will make me very happy tae see ye in mah shirt all day, and it will show everyone I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

Had he put it any other way you would have refused. Instead you pulled it on, tying it at your waist, knowing the buttons wouldn’t meet in the middle.

“Better?” you spun in front of him with a giggle.

“Perfect.”

He held your hand in the car all the way to work, constantly reassuring you that it was fine, that you were precious to him and that he would personally destroy anyone who hurt you. It didn’t take much thought to realise who he meant, you knew they would probably think you had stolen his shirt like a creepy stalker. That thought worried you.

Sure as shit, the two of them were right there as Jack pulled into the lot, tapping away on their phones as they waited for him, he’d told you that they did it every day. You gained satisfaction from the look on their faces as you stood up to close the car door, Jack coming around to take your hand. “Hey luv, I know it’s childish but….what do ye say we put them in their place?”

You nodded your agreement, barely managing a smile before his body pressed yours up against the car door, his hand holding the back of your neck. His lips were on yours, surprisingly gentle and your arms wrapped around his waist. He took your breath away, softly, sweetly and thoroughly, taking his time and kissing you slowly. It was the kiss of a lover, of a man who believed you were something precious to behold.

“That wasn’t just fer show, jus so ye know.” he smiled, brushing your nose with his. “The show is jus a perk.”

“I know what you’re doing Jack, if you think kissing me like that is going to get you an extra piece of cake today well….”

He cut you off with another kiss, short but just as sweet, leaving you feeling all wonky.

“You’re absolutely right.” you finished, enjoying his cheeky grin.

“Course I am, now let’s get tae it.”

“Get to what exactly?”

He slung his arm over your shoulder, neither of you even remembered that anyone else was there as you walked inside.

“The rest of our lives darlin.”

#jack x reader #jack lowden fic #jack lowden #jack lowden blurb #jack lowden fanfiction #jack fucking lowden #seriously fuck you and your perfect photos #never ever loose the beard

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truly-aninspiration-blog · 6 years

Text

11:15 To Edinburgh || Dearcliffe

@dalmatianplantationsensation

Summary: Anita sees Roger off to his next great adventure.

ANITA:

Today, Roger had a train to catch.

He was headed off, you see-- up north, to the rolling hills of Scotland, to the old stony walls of Edinburgh. There was a little flat with his deposit on it, close to a little tea and book shoppe. There were a few boxes shipped up there waiting for him. He’d have a new roommate, someone with a very Scottish name who was also doing some sort of graduate program at the University of Edinburgh. And classes would start very, very soon.

Roger was off, onto a brand new adventure. And Anita was not going with him.

She had woken up beside him early in the morning with this singular thought running through her brain. She felt like she hadn’t slept, though, not all night. She just kept waking up and twisting in the covers, to check to see if Roger was still there. And every time she spotted him, her heart had caught-- and she’d sighed in relief, knowing she had just a few more hours with him.

A few hours turned to two hours, then one hour, and then very little at all. When the alarm went off, Anita pretended to wake up fresh and kissed his scratchy cheek. “Do you think we have a little time for tea?” she’d asked him.

“There’s always time for tea,” he responded, and Anita fell in love with him all over again. But she would still not be going with him.

The morning bustled. Anita followed on Roger’s heel, going down a list of things that he must have for his trip (You packed socks? Do you have your wallet? Your IDs? Your library cards? A book to read? A pen? You must never go anywhere without a pen, darling.) They lined up Roger’s suitcases and she went all over it again, just to be safe.

“You sure you have everything?” she pressed, but of course, Roger did.

(But not Anita-- she would not be going with him.)

So for the last time, they scampered out of Anita’s humble flat. The luggage wheels ricketed down the hallway and then bounced along the cobblestone streets. They turned onto Main Street and began to walk down. It was a rather boring, misty morning outside, rather typical of Swynlake, but Anita didn’t think she’d want it any other way. Best remember Swynlake the way it usually was.

Though that was impossible when you were someone like Anita. As they passed by all the usual shoppes, she looked at them all as though she were seeing them for the first time.

It felt like that, didn’t it? Even if she’d return down this street in a half-hour and remain her another week or two before it was her time to proper move. Even then-- after Roger left, well, it felt as though Swynlake simply wouldn’t be the same.

He had been there since the beginning, after all.

“Oh, we should stop in Hatter’s,” she announced as she saw it approaching. She blinked rapidly and looked at him. “Shouldn’t we? I know we already had tea but-- perhaps a scone or something? You can’t leave Swynlake without one more trip to Hatter’s, Rog,” she said and smiled like it was simply a tease. But she meant it quite seriously. Or maybe she was just trying to stall.

ROGER

He had not been able to sleep a wink.

This feelin’ of pickin’ up everything he knew wasn’t unfamiliar. He could recall that same flutter in his stomach, equal parts excitement and equal parts like he was leavin’ everything he’d ever known behind.

So he’d stared at the ceiling most of the night and tried to imagine what was gonna happen next -- would he like his new roommate, for instance? What would it be like goin’ back to school after so long? Would he be the oldest, stickin’ out among the crowd of uni kids?

What would happen with Anita?

That was the question that kept creepin’ back into his mind. He pushed it away, because he knew he shouldn’t be questioning that. If this was gonna work, he had to believe in it. In the two of them. Believe that they could do it.

Even so, in some early hour of the morning, he’d glanced over at Anita as she slept besides him, a triangle of blue light spilling across her face and he wanted to take that blue on her face and keep it with him always. He heard the melody of a song that did not exist and he pulled her close and held her tight.

“I suppose we can pop in for a scone,” said Roger, even though the train was coming quite soon and he knew that they should be at the station, probably, or at least on the way over. But they had been making good time, after all, and the town was small and even though he had said quiet goodbyes as he walked through all the streets and passed all the buildings he’d grown to love, they were still on track.

He squeezed Anita’s hand, leaning to steal a kiss from her -- he was stealing loads of kisses from her this morning, tuckin’ them away so he’d have something to hold onto.

“‘Slong as we take it to go, I think we’ll be on time -- it’d be a shame not to stop by Hatter’s.”

ANITA:

“Exactly my thinking,” she said and then, grasping his hand, ducked into the tea shoppe.

It was, as expected, exactly the same. In the early morning hours there were only a few people sat at the tables, and a few who’d queued up for their morning coffees and teas before going to work. This was just slightly before Anita herself would have arrived before work-- when she had work. She’d gotten a little Swynlake-specific routine down and things operated by that routine or Anita could focus all day. All of her best days, then, began right here: in the tea shoppe.

Since she lost her job, that routine had been in a flux and so too had Anita’s mood. She saw right away how silly she’d been to skip her morning jaunts to tea. Just entering Hatter’s and smelling the fresh coffee on the pot made her feel better.

It also made her feel sad. She squeezed at Roger’s hand and tried to ignore that feeling, but it bloomed as they stood in the queue. For it was here, wasn’t it, where they’d finally gotten their proper beginning? Anita glanced toward the table now-- no one was sitting at it yet. She could see the ghosts of the two of them though.

“You want to get dinner?” Roger had asked her “Like, dinner-dinner? As in, I’ll pay and it’ll be date.”

All those years of waiting, of back and forth and misunderstandings and dreadful timings, and it had come down to just one question in this tea shoppe.

“Do you remember?” Anita said then suddenly. She couldn’t ignore the nostalgia even if she wanted to. “You asked me out here. What was it-- for a-- very early dinner or a very late lunch?” Anita smiled up at Roger. “That happened right here, Rog.”

“Oi, what can I get for you?” asked the barista at that moment, for baristas, you know, have no concern for things like nostalgia and moments. They have a queue to get through and coffee to brew.

Anita jerked her head back and her face reddened a bit, but she stepped forward. “Oh yes, yes, um-- a black tea with lemon, please, and-- the strawberry white chocolate scone, I think, and-- anything else, Roger?” she said and looked back at him.

ROGER:

It had happened here -- not just the first ever date that they had been on. Hatter’s had been the first place that he and Anita had stepped into when they crossed paths, right after the two of them had happened to plop right into Swynlake.

This town had brought them together. In more ways than one.

Now they were leaving it. Hatter’s. The Plantation. The lake. The park. Town Hall. All of it.

There’d be old castles and foggy highlands and university halls for Roger. A bright beach and bustling boardwalk and fancy theatre for Anita. It would be different. They’d make do. They’d tell each other all about their old castles and bright beaches and foggy highlands and bustling boardwalks. They’d complain about their uni halls and theatre rows (but also they’d love them).

It would work. This was the best option.

(He wished she could -- that she would -- come with him).

“I’ll take an Earl Grey, lots of cream, just a smidge of sugar. And… a Bakewell tart for me.” He reached into his pocket, handing the money over to the barista before Anita could fetch her pocket book.

“Gotta keep the tradition, yeah?” said Roger, with a wink. “‘I’ll pay and it’ll be a date”.”

He leaned to kiss her on the forehead yet again, as if all these stolen kisses he were collecting would somehow fill the shape of her once his train left the platform. ‘Course it wouldn’t -- nothing could. But still, the thought of it was romantic enough and he slipped an arm around her waist as they waited.

The lad behind the counter handed them the little brown baggies and the cups. Their last Hatter’s order. Roger would forever remember black tea with lemon with a strawberry and white chocolate scone and Earl Grey, loads of cream, light sugar with a Bakewell tart.

“Well,” he said, looking at Anita. “Shall we?”

ANITA:

Anita briefly wished they had enough time to sit down in that little corner, that little corner that would forevermore be theirs-- even after the two of them were gone. It’d be nice to sip tea and chew at their treats and pretend that today was any other day. She’d miss the sameness of it all, Anita realized. She loved her routines. She loved that Swynlake had become as cozy as a sweater to her. It was going to be much harder to leave than she thought. It would be even harder to not think about Swynlake-- and all that had happened here-- when she was in her new home.

Anita looked away from the little seat though and smiled softly at Roger. It was best, she supposed, not to linger on such nostalgic things. She’d miss these very last moments if she did.

And so she slipped her hand into his again and squeezed it very tight. “We shall, Mr. Radcliffe,” she said, with a brief nose wrinkle in his direction.

And they did.

The two of them walked out of Hatter’s and back onto Main Street. The morning mist had yet to lift, but the tea in Anita’s other hand warmed her from her fingertips to her toes. They walked down, down, passing the police and fire station, passing Town Hall (where Anita used to go every single day-- so funny, how quickly those routines that Anita loved changed), passing Whosits and Whatsits too, and then passing Pixie’s.

They walked and they walked, the suitcases dragged behind them catching now and again on the stone. But they just pulled it on.

It was a brisk walk, and a quiet one, and many times Anita wanted to say something, but she didn’t quite know what she wanted to say. Maybe it was simply-- goodbye, as she passed.

Goodbye to Main Street! Goodbye to the Swynlake oak trees! Goodbye to Castle Road and goodbye to the calm waters of Atlantis Lake!

They arrived at the train station, the platform even quieter than the rest of the town-- and no one there but Roger and Anita.

Anita bit at her lip and looked at the old clockface ticking away.

“Just a few minutes now. Hopefully it won’t be late,” she commented. I hope it will be late, she thought to herself. Because-- for all of Anita’s goodbyes-- Anita still had no idea how she was going to say goodbye to Roger.

ROGER

He remembered the first time he’d set foot on this train platform, his first step into Swynlake, actually. It’d been scary, ‘course it had, but he felt that thrill of anticipation. Hell -- he’d written a whole song about it on the train ride over, wonderin’ about what all it really meant, if he was just searchin’ for something he was never gonna get.

But he’d found Anita here. He’d found Perdita and Paul and they’d all found each other.

And he found what he wanted to do next. His next step. A clearer step than he’d had in ages.

He just wished it didn’t mean leaving Anita.

The train was supposed to come in just a few minutes or so. He wanted those few minutes to feel like the ten minutes on Friday afternoon back in school before a three-day holiday, the few minutes waitin’ for Mum and Dad to unwrap Christmas gifts.

He slipped his hand from Anita’s and instead, wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close so that his cheek rested on her hair.

He wanted to say something -- anything. Something about how he didn’t want to leave this platform right now. Something about how he would see her again, so soon. Something about how he would write her the minute he was on the train, send the letter the minute he got off.

But all he could say was, “I love you so much.”

It came out a little soft, a little choked, and there was a lovely moment after he said it, a warm, blooming thing he wanted to keep forever, before it was punctuated by the whistle of the train.

ANITA:

They hugged. Roger pulled her close and Anita’s arms slipped around him, her hands locking against his spine. She held him tightly, but it didn’t feel tight enough. There was still so much space between them even as close as they were. And if there was all this space even now, how could Anita bear to be hundreds and hundreds of miles away?

She knew that she must bear it. She knew that this was what was best for both of them.

But in Roger’s arms, she didn’t know anything, not really. All she had was her heart. And in Roger’s arms, her heart was home.

The train whistle screeched behind her. Anita clung even tighter as her heart rate sped up. And then she thought of her father--

Be brave now, Anita, he would tell her. That’s what he said on the day she took the train to Cambridge. He’d traveled with her to the train station but couldn’t come get her settled, for he had work. He knew that she was terrified though. One look at her big eyes and pink cheeks told him that.

She had to be brave again. Pulling away, she sniffled a bit, the tears bright in her eyes. She didn’t even bother to stop them from falling, for one was already spilling down her cheek. She laughed at how silly she was though and tried to wipe the tears away.

“I love you too, Rog. Oh, look at me, I’m a mess and you’re still here,” she said and wiped at the other eye. She blinked even faster, and then grasped at the front of his shirt. “You best get on that train right now, before I can’t even form a sentence, eh? I love you,” she said it again. You could never say something important like that enough, not at a train station or an airport or all the other places where people say goodbye.

She popped up onto her toes and kissed him, a hand on his scratchy cheek. It didn’t last long enough.

She fell back onto her heels. “Okay-- go, go! You’ll be brilliant!”

ROGER

Anita was crying. Roger felt that he might cry too -- hell, he was crying. Tearing up. Doing his best to blink it all away and be strong, be brilliant as she said.

He looked at her now and it felt so hard to be strong, to be brilliant, when all he wanted to do was be with Anita.

But he couldn’t stay. Roger couldn’t go to Brighton. There was nothing for him in Brighton, nothing new, at least. Sure he could play pubs and he could work in a shop somewhere to tithe him over between paychecks, but it wasn’t gonna be a step in the future like the one he was gonna be makin’.

It was gonna be okay. They would be okay.

He squeezed Anita’s hand one last time, ducking his head a little because he didn’t want her to see him cry.

“Goodbye Anita,” he said and he wanted to hold onto her hand forever, but the train gave another whistle and he had to carry up his bags, so he let go of her hand and turned around, picking up his bags. Before he stepped up onto the train, he glanced over his shoulder, smiling back at her, looking back.

“I love you!” he called out. Roger could feel his heart hammering. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. His chest felt tight. He just had to do it, just had to get on the train.

So Roger took a deep breath and stepped onto the train, trying to focus his nervous, sadness on finding an empty seat.

ANITA:

Roger turned away from her.

Wait! caught in her throat.

He picked up her bags.

Wait! There the word was again.

She watched as he bustled on, the mist lifting around them and the train whistle screeching through the air, the loudest thing in the morning. She watched because that was what she was here to do. Anita had come to see him off-- to stand here at the platform and be the last thing that Roger saw as the train pulled out and took him to all that strange and unfamiliar.

She would wave to him and he would wave to her from the window. They’d wave until the train took the bend. And even then, Anita promised Roger she’d still be waving. She’d not leave until the train was gone. Completely gone. The ticking of its wheels on the tracks faded, and the air still again.

She promised these things. She tried to hold onto her promise as Roger boarded the train.

Maybe she could have done it too. Maybe. If Roger hadn’t turned back to look at her and shouted “I love you!” even louder than the whistle.

Her heart leapt from where she was standing then. And she thought again. Wait!

Wait, but for what?

For me!

The train doors closed, and Anita panicked. She leapt into motion too, chasing after her heart which had gotten caught on the wrong side of the door. No-- she was on the wrong side of the door, and so she darted to the train and pounded on it.

“Don’t leave! Stop, don’t leave!” she shouted. A face squinted through the slim windows on the door. “I have a ticket!” she shouted, she lied.

The doors opened.

“Ticket ma’am?” said the inspector.

Anita pushed past him, ignoring his exclaim. She rushed down the train compartment and shouted Roger’s name.

“Roger! Roger, wait! I’m here!”

“Ma’am, your ticket!” snapped the inspector, hot on her trail.

“I’m coming to Edinburgh!”

“Someone stop this woman!” the inspector reached out and caught Anita by the arm.

She whirled on him and tried to yank her arm away. The man had a firm grip and beady, hateful eyes, if you asked Anita. Her own brightened with her anger. “Let go of me, you cad. I’ll pay for a bloody ticket, I’m trying to-- this is a very romantic-- gesture--and you’re ruining it--” she huffed, then smashed her foot down on the man’s foot.

He yelped and let her go, and then Anita was off again, racing down the compartment until she collided into Roger’s arms. Anita brushed at some of her hair, askew from her dramatic flight here, smoothing it back, and then smiling.

“Roger, damn Brighton. I’m coming with you,” she repeated.

ROGER

It all happened very fast.

One moment, Roger had been stealing glances out of the window, keeping his eye on Anita’s figure. Then he’d spotted an empty place for his luggage and had reached to lift up one of his bags, only when he glanced out the window this time, Anita wasn’t there --

His heart clenched. He feared the worst. He turned around, ready to dash out, ready to find Anita, ready to --

There was commotion towards the front of the train. Roger’s heart caught in his throat, for it was a voice he knew, calling his name, for it was a familiar flash of red hair.

“Anita!” he called out, rushing through the aisles of the train, bags be damned. He muttered apologies as he maneuvered past people, wishing that the path to Anita was not so cluttered.

But damn the narrow aisles, damn the bags strewn on the floor, damn the old women gawking at him and the young kids giggling -- he’d faced worse to get to her, he had. This was nothing. This was absolutely nothing.

She was right there, and Roger called her name as she collided right into his arms and she spoke.

Roger, damn Brighton. I’m coming with you.

He didn’t process it at first, still giddy with the fact that she was in his arms, that he didn’t have to say goodbye just yet. Then he heard it. I’m coming with you.

“Anita -- you -- I -- “

Roger cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth, pulling away a little breathless. Anita in Edinburgh with him. The two of them, in Edinburgh, together. The two of them. Together.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He was breathless, head spinning, looking at her like she was the most real thing in this whole world “I want you to come with me. You just said you would, I don’t know why I’m repeating that, Anita. I sound like a fool. I just want you with me, always.”

ANITA:

Roger kissed here, there in the middle of the train compartment. And you know, Anita would compare it to her favourite books and movies, but oh, why ruin it? The truth was it was so much better.

He kissed her and she kissed him back, her hands clutching tightly onto his shirt. This time, she swore to herself, she wouldn’t let go.

Because she saw it all clearly now. The Brighton mist had lifted for Anita and through it shined a different sun. There, the hills of Edinburgh and the grand castle looking over their new life together. They’d find themselves a brand new tea shoppe to go to every morning and to meet at between Roger’s classes. There were theatres up in Edinburgh and Anita would get a job there, because she was not the same sweet, shy Anita who relied on her family for her favours. She had outgrown that. She had grown into something else, and that something else fit perfectly in Roger’s arms.

And so she’d be fine. And so would Roger. Because they’d build a life together and this time and talk it all the way through.

Yes, yes, yes, she wanted to say and laugh, like she was accepting a marriage proposal. Yes, I am so certain.

And Anita did laugh, but mostly because people around them had begun to clap. Some old man two seats away put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Anita covered her lips, giggling behind them. She looked up at Roger with all that delight and saw his own reflected. They had always been mirrors for one another.

Then her hands slipped back down and clutched his shirt again. “And so do I. Oh Rog, I’ve wanted you to ask me since you got that letter. But how silly of me to wait. We must stop waiting for each other and get on with it, eh?” she teased. “So yes, I’m sure. Let’s us go be brilliant together.”

“Kiss her again!” hooted the old man, which made Anita laugh.

“Are you going to buy a ticket or not?” huffed the inspector. He tapped his pocket watch. “It’s all very romantic, I see, but we have a schedule to keep.”

And so Anita blushed and reached back into her purse. “Yes, um, of course. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Oh no you’re not,” said the sullen inspector.

And he was right. Anita was very much not sorry at all.

#the end #im cryin #dearcliffe #para #this feels just like a classic romance novel it pleases me

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