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kelsiwritesfics · 3 months ago

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First Post! "Signed, Mrs Quinn" - Jacob Anderson x Halle Bailey

Characters:

Houston Quinn - Played by Jacob Anderson

Eleanore Bullock - Played by Halle Bailey

Description:

In 1954, Eleanore Bullock spent the summer with her best friend's mysterious French cousin, a harsh accented, reserved, good - looking, intelligent aspiring doctor with all of his hooks in young Eleanore. Houston Quinn - at the end of his summer exploration in New York - is starring down a long trip back to Paris, France. However, he finds it especially hard to leave the regal beauty he met on a brownstone stoop. On their last summer sunset, will they finally confess that the deep rooted feelings that transcend distance?

Hope you enjoy!!

****

Summer 1954

Houston Quinn is going to miss New York sunsets.

While he thought that there would ever be beauty that could top that of Paris’ glistening sunset and even more sparkling nights - he reveled in his final New York summer day and realized he had never seen something more beautiful.

Well, maybe he has.

Standing next to him, Eleanore Bullock gazes into the yellow sky - her chocolate brown eyes filled with so much amazement that she almost runs into a light pole. With a chesty chuckle, Houston gently pulls her arm to her side - saving her from a pole stricken headache.

“You always do that, you know?” Houston's thick French accent notices, settling into the softness of Eleanore’s skin as they walk with their arms connected.

Eleanore looks to Houston, questioning in her eyes. “Do what?” she questions.

Houston smiles as they join eyes. She doesn’t even know what she does to me.

“That,” he said with a gentle smile. Eleanore chuckles. “I’m not following,” she says honestly.

Houston sighs. “That thing you do with your eyes. You look at everything like it’s…pure. Like there’s no wrong in whatever you’re looking at. You see the best in things, Elle,” he says truthfully, falling into the depths of her gaze.

Like a shy schoolgirl, Eleanore’s cheeks heat in a warm blush; her eyelashes fluttering gently. “Well, I’ve never noticed it,” she jokes with a short chuckle. “But you know what you always do?”

“Quoi?” Houston answers with a teasing raised eyebrow.

Eleanore kisses her teeth. “Now is not the time for a french lesson, Houston!” Eleanore exclaims, her mind filled with so many miscellaneous words that she doesn’t know how she’ll ever unscramble them.

Houston chuckles. “You’ve taught me many words, Elle. I need to return the favor. So..quoi. qu'est-ce que je fais toujours?”

“What do I always do?”

Eleanore smiles to herself when she easily translates his quick words.

“You’re so observant. I mean, you see everything! You notice everything. Even the smallest things,” she explains in slight amazement.

Houston nods in understanding. “Analytics is my thing. Doctors have to notice the small things. I don’t want to diagnose a patient with a common cold when he’s really had an infection the whole time. All because I didn’t notice the small details.”

Eleanore smiles. “While the smallest things capture you the most, you have one flaw,” she counters.

Houston’s eyebrow raises stiffly. “What’s the flaw?”

Eleanore and Houston’s steps slow as they approach the looming brownstone at the end of the street they were dredging - standing between Eleanore’s house and Houston’s aunt - Maggie’s - house. Hesitantly, Eleanore pulls her arm from his.

“You tend to strip over the big details. The things that are right in front of your face. Old folks say, ‘If it was a snake, it would’ve bit you,”’ she says with a soft chuckle

Houston stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Americans and their sayings,” he grumbles with a playful roll of his eyes. Eleanore plucks him playfully.

“What have I missed Madame Elle? Hmm?” Houston says, taking a step closer to Eleanore.

On the narrow sidewalk, Houston’s small step feels like a lifelong journey that has settled him almost chest to chest with Eleanore. Naturally, Eleanore cranes her neck to meet Houston’s tall and bulky structure. The sun hides behind his body and the heat coddles both of them, Eleanore falls into the softness of Houston’s features - a pit she’s gotten deeper into since the day they met on this sidewalk only three months prior.

Houston can’t believe that so much has changed for him in only three months. Settling temporarily in America - in hopes of adapting before attending medical school - Houston didn’t think time would grant him something so special such a little amount. But the most special thing - the most beautiful thing was standing before him - in all of her pure, unadulterated glory.

“What did I miss, Eleanore?” he reiterates.

The two of them chuckle at his common butchering of her full name. Since it sounds foreign and crunchy in his mouth, Eleanore would much rather the sweetness of the whisper he releases when he says “Elle.”

“I really don’t want you to leave, Houston,” Eleanore says, taken aback by her bluntness in such a vulnerable place.

Eleanore could never quite understand how such a feeling could build in her stomach without ever feeling Houston’s intimate touch. Without ever indulging in the sweetness of his lips. It seemed from the first moment they stood on this broken concrete, that they were tethered together in some sort of divine connection that neither of them could understand or explain. And from that moment, they both knew that being on opposite sides of the world would pull their tethered string so tight - that their heart might just go with it.

Houston chuckles at the confession, finally pulling his eyes away from Eleanore’s. “It’s crazy that you’ve waited the entire summer to finally tell me that,” he said.

Eleanore rolls her eyes playfully. “Well, you’ve already known it. Why must I say what you already know?” she questions.

“Because I wanted to see your face when you admitted what we’ve both known since the first time I laid eyes on you,” he confessed.

The wind in the darkening sky seems to build up and center itself between Houston and Eleanore’s tense bodies, swiveling them into a whirlwind of unspoken emotions. Eleanore pushes through the tension, taking a step closer to Houston. Shakily, she rests her hand on Houston’s over the pocket of his pants.

“Well, now we both know. And we both know we’re serious. I feel I’ve given you a reason to stay. Why can’t you?” Eleanore retorts.

Houston has no objection to what Eleanore wants.

In his mind, there’s nothing that can pull him from her. And he knows the feeling is mutual. However, he feels he has no time to answer such an unimportant question. Glancing at Eleanore’s plump and trembling lips - his priorities have shifted to turn the space between them into non-existence. The string between their beating and restless hearts pulls and pulls like an urging warning. Eleanore feels it strongly and it travels to the depths of her stomach.

“Can you teach me something in French?” Eleanore questions.

Breathless and too enthralled, Houston simply nods. Eleanore swallows hard.

“How do you say, “Kiss me” in french?” she questions as her chest feels with an intoxicating breath.

Houston smiles, reaching to hold the end of Eleanore’s chin. She whimpers, burning at his touch.

“Embrasse-moi”, he commands and teaches.

“Embrasse-moi” Eleanore repeats, almost drooling in anticipation.

And as Houston gently grabs the hull of her face, ready to sink into the softness of her pink lips - a shriek erupts like a gunshot in the beautiful sunset.

“Houston! Houston!” a sorrowful scream breaks Houston from Eleanore.

Eleanore quickly turns behind her, recognizing Maggie’s - her neighbor and Houston’s aunt - voice running down the stairs in a nightgown. Looking past her intimate nature, Eleanore stricken by the eyeliner streaked tears coming down Maggie’s face. To Eleanore, Margaret Quinn is one of the most elegant women she knows. Seeing her so broken sends a chill up her spine.

“Tante Maggie! What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”, Houston rushes, stepping past Eleanore and running to catch Maggie’s falling body.

Maggie collapses as Houston hoists her into his arms, enveloping her.

“It’s Aimee”, she chokes, burying herself into Houston.

Watching from a distance, Eleanore recognizes the name to be Houston’s mother.

She’s waiting for him back in Paris.

Houston frantically looks down to Maggie, searching her face worriedly.

“Me meman? What about her? Is she okay?” Houston rushes.

Sucking in a breath, Maggie gains all of her strength to scream

“She’s dead! My lord, Aimee is dead!”

Eleanore has always admired Houston’s bronze skin. She’s always loved how warm it felt in a short hug. She adores it. But in the moment that Maggie’s scream breaks the mold of her weeping sadness, Houston’s face drains itself of its color. His grip on Maggie loosens and she stumbles.

“Houston, my darling. She’s gone,” Maggie weeps.

“Mama,” Houston mutters, tears dripping from his eyes. Shell shocked, he looks out at Eleanore - whose body has frozen from the quickness of the events. She stumbles forward, reaching out for him.

“Houston, I’m sorry,” is all she can muster.

But it seems that Houston doesn’t even hear her. In fact, he gently sets Maggie down on the stoop of her brownstone, kissing her forehead and stoically dredging up the stairs. Eleanore runs up the steps, passing by Maggie.

“Houston?” she calls, not quite sure what she’s calling for.

But once again, it seems Houston just can’t hear her.

As Eleanore calls his name with a burning lump in her throat, Houston retreats into Maggie’s brownstone, mumbling to himself as he closes the door behind him. Eleanore stands on the stoop next to Maggie, sealing her eyes as hot, prickling tears settle there.

As her eyes fall, her mind makes a mental snapshot of her last memory of Houston Quinn - his back forever turned to her.

****

A/N: Hello beautiful people! If you don't know yet, my name is Kelsi and I'm a published romance author and poet! While I love the world of being able to share my sappy work with a bunch of willing readers, I've had the desire to get back to my roots - FAN FICTION! It never left me and I'm so happy that I'm writing again! Technically, all of my published work is some sort of fan fiction and this excerpt is no different. This snippet is the prologue of my next novel, "Signed, Mrs. Quinn" - a arranged marriage romance featuring these beautiful characters. It is set for release in August of this year! I hope this caught your attention and if you wanna know more about this book, following my instagram and tiktok - @allshedoesiswrites - for updates and drafting posts! I hope I caught your attention and i hope you stay and read awhile

A/N #2: What are your thoughts!? What do you think is next for Eleanore and Houston? Any predictions for the novel? Leave any suggestions, comments or requests for future stories in the comments! Share with all of your friends that would be interested! Thanks!

Xo, Kelsi💋

#jacobanderson #hallebailey #jacobandersonxreader #interviewwiththevampire #arrangedmarriage #blackfanfiction #jacobandersonfanfiction

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