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signsofsam · 4 years

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Buddie Week, Day Two: Oh I Won’t Be Afraid (Just Stand By Me)

Eddie knows something went horribly wrong with one of Buck’s past relationships.

He knows something went sideways, and it makes him boil with anger, because Buck is sweet, and gentle, and caring, and Eddie was halfway in love with him by the time he gathered up the courage to ask Buck out, and no person deserves to be abused, but especially not Buck. So he treats their relationship as if it’s breakable, fragile, because this thing between them is helping Buck heal, and he doesn’t want to do anything to screw it up. And frankly, he doesn’t ever want to lose Buck.

Prompt: “I won’t let anyone hurt you; you’re safe with me.” + comfort

AO3 Link Here

Notes:

Title is from Stand By Me by Ben E. King (but I had the Florence + the Machine's version playing while writing).

Trigger Warning: there is mention of an off-screen rape, and this story deals with an (off screen) abusive relationship. If you aren't comfortable with that, this story probably isn't for you.

And y'all...I'm nervous about this story. This is not my normal thing, so I hope I did the overall story justice.

Eddie knows something went horribly wrong with one of Buck’s past relationships. While Buck never talks about it (and really, doesn’t talk about any past relationship but Abby) he’s constantly trying to make sure everything is perfect for Eddie, no matter if it’s something Buck himself enjoys. He apologizes profusely for every little thing he sees as a mistake. He’d been so skittish when they first kissed, so eager to make sure it pleased Eddie, no matter if Buck was, and...Eddie just knows.

It’s their first overnight together, alone in Eddie’s bed, their clothes strewn around the room, and Eddie should be sleeping, sated and happy and exhausted, but...he’s still awake, watching the profile of Buck’s face, running his hand ever-so-lightly through his hair, wondering how anyone could hurt Evan Buckley and not feel like a complete and utter asshole for it. And that’s how he catches Buck’s nightmare, Buck’s fingers gripping into the pillow, his face furrowing as he lets out a shaky breath. “Buck? Evan?” Eddie murmurs softly, sitting up. “Evan-”

Buck’s muttering something not quite audible, but he twists in the bed, back and forth, and his muttering becomes a shout, followed by another, and Eddie knows he shouldn’t reach for him (he was a medic in the United States Army, for God sakes, he’s seen what war and PTSD can manifest into during a nightmare, he knows not to touch), but he does, and Buck jerks awake swinging.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorryi’msorryi’msorrry,” Buck repeats, watching Eddie with wide, scared eyes as Eddie stands in the hall bathroom, gently feeling around the already bruising skin, testing his ability to open and close his eye (just fine, doesn’t feel like he broke anything). “Eddie, I’m so, so, so-”

Eddie sighs, and Buck immediately shuts up, backing away from the doorway, tensing like he’s expecting...what? A fist? Eddie puts his hands out, steady, calming, the anger and hurt for Buck building inside until his boyfriend starts tracking his palms, and the anger and hurt just...it melts into concern, because Buck doesn’t need his anger or his hurt right now. “Evan, please stop apologizing, babe. I know better than to touch someone when they’re in the middle of a nightmare, and I did it anyway. This?” he motions to the bruise. “This is completely, one hundred percent my fault.”

“I know what it’s like, though, and I never wanted to do that to another person. Especially...especially not you, Eddie.” The whispered confession hangs between them, the words sinking in slowly to Eddie; it’s a crack in the wall Buck’s built around his past, just for Eddie to see through.

It’s trust, a very thin, tiny piece of trust.

“Can I...can I hug you?” Buck nods almost before his question is done, and Eddie approaches slowly, hands still raised, still showing Buck I’ll never hurt you. When he’s standing in front of his boyfriend, Buck nods again, and Eddie’s hands trace the familiar territory: one wrapping around Buck’s waist, the other trailing up his arm to his shoulder, finally sinking into its destination of the short, soft hairs at the nape of Buck’s neck as he reels the taller man in, and just like always, Buck melts.

They stand in the hallway for a while, just like that, Buck’s face tucked into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and neck, Eddie’s hand scratching lightly through Buck’s hair, the tension between them, the nightmare, everything fading away as they soak in one another. Eddie’s surprised when Buck speaks: “it was before I left for South America. I was just out of high school, he was much older, and...things got bad really quickly.”

“Buck-”

“No, let me just...it started out good. Tom was older, and had a good job, and I was all parental issues and lost, and he looked at me like I mattered, like I was someone, and it was a whirlwind. He taught me….he taught me how good sex could be with a guy, and then he taught me how easily someone could break you with their words and their fists and...how easy it was to take things without consent and-”

Eddie’s breath catches, but he doesn’t say anything, because Buck is opening up, and he won’t do anything to stop that. “It started with a slap because I didn’t have dinner done one night, but you know the stories, just like everyone else: he apologized, and he was so sweet, and caring, and he told me it would never happen again, and I was eighteen and not smart and I believed him. Just like I believed him when it happened again because I accidentally left a light on in the apartment, and again when I didn’t clean up the dishes. And I stayed, and I stayed, and there was even a hospital visit and I still stayed, because he loved me, and he was the only one who did.

“The final straw was the night he ra...he raped me. He’d force me to blow him before that, but...it was just a blow job, you know? I didn’t like it, but...I loved him.” (No, Evan, that’s not fine either, Eddie thinks) “One night he was in a foul mood, and it got worse when he drank, and he wanted to have sex and I told him no, and he...he punched me, I remember that. I don’t remember much after that until he was...until he was done. He passed out beside me, and I decided there, in that moment, that I couldn’t stay, and that I deserved better. I left when he was at work the next day, and...and somehow I’ve managed to make this life I love here, with you, and Maddie, and Bobby and Athena and Chim and Hen and...I hate how the memories of him taint everything when it comes to our relationship.”

“Oh, Ev,” Eddie whispers, pressing a kiss to Buck’s forehead, and Buck’s sob is gut-wrenching. Eddie holds him through it, through every body-wracking sob and cry and the wild keening noise that makes Eddie’s heart want to crack. No matter what, though, he holds onto Buck, wraps as tight as he can around his boyfriend, being his safety and security as everything breaks. He waits until the sobs are sniffles, and Buck’s breathing is mostly even, and he pulls away then, just enough so that Buck looks up at him. “Thank you for telling me, for trusting me with this. I could always see that something wasn’t quite right, but...Buck, this? What a nightmarish weight to have to carry around by yourself. I hope you know that you can always talk to me about anything, and you can be honest when you don’t like something we do or when you just don’t want to do it. I don’t want to pressure you, or ever make you uncomfortable-”

“You don’t, Eddie,” Buck interrupts, reaching for Eddie’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckle. “Nothing we do together makes me uncomfortable; I want everything with you, it’s just-. Unfortunately, there is a darkness surrounding parts of our relationship. But you-you make everything sad and upsetting start to tinge in gold and sunshine, in happiness. I know how gentle you are, and how you would never take your anger out on me, or Chris, or anyone, even if sometimes it seems like I don’t. I know you would never be what Tom became, because I know you. You make me feel worthy, and right.”

He leans in, a soft kiss, sweet, a thank you and I’m sorry for accidentally punching you and I’m okay, don’t you worry and this relationship is everything to me all rolled together. Eventually, Eddie breaks away, taking Buck’s hand and leading him back down the hallway to the rumpled bed. They’re both too tired for anything besides cuddling, and if Eddie wraps himself around his boyfriend just a bit tighter, Buck allows it. Buck’s nearly asleep from the warmth of being wrapped in the comforter and in Eddie’s arms, his head resting on Eddie’s chest so he can hear the thumping of his heart when he hears Eddie whisper, “I won’t let anyone hurt you; you’re safe with me.”

The words stay with him as he drifts back off, and into his dreams, and for the first time in awhile, the nightmares stay away.

#My writing #buddieweek2020 #buddie fic #9-1-1 #9-1-1 Fox #Buddie #evan buckley #Eddie Diaz #please heed the warnings

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lovelyirony · 5 years

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"Maybe I’ll see you in another life/if this one wasn’t enough" from Florence + the Machine prompt lists, for winter13, please?

Sharon is no stranger to knowing tragedy. She sees the way Aunt Peggy’s lips curve up and fall slightly when she talks about knowing Steve Rogers. It’s a life that is not defined, not confirmed. But there was possibility. Sharon knows about possibilities.

When she’s eighteen, she sees him.

Winter Soldier.

The legend that Peggy tells her about.

“I’m not supposed to be telling you,” Peggy whispers. Sharon knows more about SHIELD than she should, but Peggy’s soft when it comes to Sharon. She knows Sharon’s destiny, knows that she needs to know more than the average recruit when she goes into the organization.

“Be careful,” Peggy says. “The Winter Soldier isn’t a myth. He’s real. They remade a man into what they wanted, and that’s...Sharon, you know how dangerous that is.”

She does. She knows that this person, whoever they are, will not hesitate to kill. He won’t listen to any pleas or bargains, because that’s not in his code. He will not stop, will not stray from the mission, and will not look at you--he will look through you.

Her graduation present from her parents is a trip to Europe. She gets to visit Vienna and learn all about old history, carefully taking note of suspicious characters. Peggy has come along to tell her all about World War II and the history of it, rare smiles gracing her face as she explains a prank Sergeant Barnes pulled on the rest of the division or the time Dum-Dum messed up ordering food.

They see him.

Winter Soldier is not on a mission for Director Carter--or rather, former Director Carter. He’s on a mission for someone else.

“We need to follow him,” Peggy says. “Sharon, get the car.”

Sharon has never driven in Europe before. But she manages just fine as she nervously presses on the gas pedal and they zoom forward. Winter Soldier is chasing after someone, and someone who knows it.

Aunt Peggy sees red hair and pauses.

“Sharon, get out of the car. Let me drive.”

Sharon is not allowed to tell her parents that she met Black Widow, or that Peggy dented the car hood by attempting to run over the Winter Soldier.

She also does not tell anyone about the fact that as she opened the car door for Black Widow and her charge, that Winter Soldier tore off his goggles and stared.

That was...unsettling. His eyes were brilliant. She could tell they were a light color from a hundred feet off.

“This your girl?” Natasha Romanoff asks Aunt Peggy.

“Yes.”

“I’m impressed,” she says. “Welcome to SHIELD, Sharon.”

“I’m not inducted in yet.”

“You might as well be, facing off the Winter Soldier,” she says with a snort. “Come on. Peggy, we need to start training.”

Sharon starts during college. She still goes to college, although her heart is not completely in it. She finishes her classes with passing grades, gets a degree in sociology, and moves on.

Natasha trains with her and she becomes skilled as all hell.

She still dreams of light eyes staring through her. The dreams are more like nightmares as they get closer and closer.

She sees him again when she’s in New York helping out with protection at an undercover science delegation meeting. Some of the most influential scientists are the ones you never hear about. Sure, they have published papers, but they also have papers that never see the light of day because it would change the fabric of reality as everyone knows it.

Winter Soldier doesn’t spare her a glance, not until she launches herself at him to knock him into an alley.

“Stop,” she hisses.

Sharon didn’t think this through. She most definitely is not on his skill level, and they both know it.

“Let me go,” he says, voice almost dead. “I have a mission.”

“So do I,” she says, “and it involves stopping someone like you.”

“You miss the point of my existence,” he says, almost robotically. “I am not a someone. I am a something.”

“You know the difference. Robots don’t,” Sharon says, dodging a fist that goes slamming into concrete. “Now back the hell off.”

In all of the missions that Winter Soldier can recount, (oh yeah, they’ll let him remember the decapitation but not his own fucking birthday. Classic) most of the agents that are sent to stop him are not this bold.

Because a.) they realize in the moment that they are outmatched and outclassed in every way that matters, and b.) they have accepted death.

Not this girl. No, she’s young and she’s fierce but she knows...she knows something.

This gets him distracted.

And this allows Sharon to be able to slash a knife down his leg, and it’s not the kind of cut that allows continuation to be done. He would survive, but this is gonna slow him down.

Begrudgingly, she has his respect.

He doesn’t tell his handlers about her. He doesn’t know why. Usually he’s fine with revealing anyone who got in his way, and usually someone catches onto the fact that he’s lying and make his brain circuits go pop. But not...not this time.

They believe the fact that a spare part from a crashed car knicked his leg as he jumped down. They stitch him up, give him a good old brain wipe, and send him to the freezer. He’s not sure when the next year will be, if they’ll even let him out again.

(There’s a joke about rent insurance in there somewhere.)

Sharon cut the Winter Soldier. She fucking cut the guy who people said would kill you. She got away.

This isn’t something you brag about. She could but then she’d be an asshole who everyone at the office hates. And instead of them stealing Rumlow’s lunch once a week, it’d be her.

And she likes that Rumlow keeps bringing quality food.

She doesn’t tell anyone. Well...Peggy doesn’t count.

Peggy is riveted, on the edge of her seat.

“You didn’t,” Peggy swears. “You didn’t!”

“I did,” Sharon responds. “But I don’t know what he told whoever he works for. I could be dead, Peggy.”

“Nonsense,” Peggy scoffs. “It’s been more than a week, correct?”

“A month.”

“You just told me this today?! And it’s been a month?!”

“...I didn’t want you to worry.”

“If you had told me the day of, I would have worried. But if they haven’t sent anyone to kill you, your little escapade is safe. Although it does make me curious...”

They sip on tea for a while longer and laugh about Sharon’s father, who is fretting about Sharon all over again. It’s a bi-monthly occasion, very entertaining for Peggy, who knows that Sharon knows a little over a hundred ways to incapacitate someone who’s up against her.

Sharon kisses Peggy goodbye.

Winter Soldier is woken up for another mission.

He remembers a woman with blonde hair and a firm ask for him to “stop.”

There’s a feeling that she’s important. There’s a feeling that Hydra doesn’t know anything about her.

He’s sent to make sure that SHIELD is destroyed.

Great. This is gonna go fantastically, he’s sure.

Sharon really knows what’s going on. Peggy had her suspicions, and made sure that Nick Fury thought outside the box. Hell, that he thought outside the universe. She knew that SHIELD would never be pure of intention. Peggy never was, why would her organization be? Humanity isn’t either.

She knows that Hydra is inside SHIELD and it’s looking for Captain America to be its first example.

Do they know it’s a Wednesday? Like honestly, it’s a Wednesday. It’s two p.m. She thought she would get herself a pizza tonight, make a wine night. Wine Wednesday. It would’ve been fun. Maybe Natasha could’ve come.

But no, Hydra decided they wanted to eliminate threats they couldn’t control so now she’s on the run from the guy the next office space from hers and has to deal with Rumlow bitching about people stealing his sandwiches.

“Your own fault!” Sharon yells, swiping his feet from under him. “You’re also just annoying as fuck!”

She then has to run.

She knows that Natasha and some special agent who was in the flight division are helping Steve and maybe Maria. Probably Maria. They wouldn’t have gotten as far as they had if Maria wasn’t in on it or if she was Hydra.

God, if Maria Hill was Hydra...

Couldn’t think about that travesty now. She has a world to save.

Steve, naturally, has been sort of a disaster. He makes it functional. She sort of wishes that she could make it functional, but she is not able to have that sort of function in her life, unfortunately.

He’s wearing his old uniform. She doesn’t know why, just that he’s stupid. She doesn’t care how carefully the restoration workers at the Smithsonian have repaired it, she knows his levels of stupidity.

And then he turns.

Winter Soldier.

Now, apparently, Bucky Barnes.

What a kick in the goddamn head.

She can’t even think. She doesn’t want to think, she just charges and kicks him out a window.

Steve slams the card in, they save the world, and she’s diving after a man with a metal arm. Metal is also falling from the sky, so you could imagine the level of difficulty she is under.

But she finds him. He’s a heavy guy as she lugs him to the shore, waiting for him to wake up.

“Who the--?” He’s coughing out water, trying to get up.

“I’d suggest you take a vacation,” Sharon says. “I think you have a lot of days saved up.”

Sharon doesn’t know why she leaves him there. She really doesn’t understand why she doesn’t just say “hey, come with me,” and then he decides to join SHIELD and Steve and him can bond over not understanding music apps.

But he needs to have time to himself, she reasons.

“You’re insane,” Natasha says to Sharon. Steve is trying to visit Sam and hang out, so they’re doing their own thing. “You let him go?”

“He needed to find his own life,” Sharon says. “You know Steve likes to define what he knows, and he knows Bucky Barnes. But I think Bucky Barnes isn’t really a sure thing right now. So we’ll find out.”

“Okay.”

“Hey. If I’m meant to have him in this life, great. If not, then that is what it is,” Sharon says.

She doesn’t know that Barnes did not hop a plane to Europe. Not yet, anyway.

No, he’s a block away in an abandoned office building. He’s not sure what he’s doing, just that he doesn’t want to leave anything yet.

She may hold answers. Answers that he wants.

#woo doggie this one is long #lovelyirony writes #winter13 #sharon carter #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #au of winter soldier the movie #also low-key why is this sort of funny #anwyays

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bexinthecity05 · 6 years

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Settling for Contrasts (Pt.4) (Louisa x Spiros)

part one part two part three part five part six

The scene between Spiros and his wife was inspired by @thewordperfection-doesnot-exist who has happily fed me with endless prompts (some of which are coming soon!!) XD XD

There was an unmistakable smile on her face when she walked through the trees and came to a halt. The smile vanished almost immediately. She sighed and approached the house.

Spiros, predictably, was leaning against his car, his hat in his hands and his gaze aimed at his feet. Four months on and he only had to reappear to remind her of the heartache she’d managed to partially bury.

“Spiros,” she curtly as she walked past him around the side of the house. “Where are your children?”

“I took them home,” he said, following her into the kitchen. “So... Hugh is back.”

It wasn’t a question and she wasn’t sure whether to find his jealousy touching as she once did, or to be annoyed.

“Yes,” she said. She dropped her bag onto the table and took the kettle to the stove.

“England had enough of him huh?” he said and annoyance won out.

“Actually, if you must know, he came back because he still loves me,” she said but immediately regretted it when she saw the flash of pain flicker across his eyes. “Spi-” she went to say but he cut her off.

“Do you love him?” He asked. He looked as if it might kill him if she said ‘yes’. She was, however floored by the question because she truly didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t know if she loved him. There had never been a moment where she’d had to question her love for Spiros once she’d allowed herself to feel it. So why didn’t she know whether she loved Hugh or not? Her eyes his and she shrugged.

“Oh Spiros, can’t we be friends?” she said breathlessly. He looked everywhere but at her.

“I’m not sure,” he finally lifted his head to look at her. His expression was one of muted devastation and she felt a lump rising in her throat. “I have to go, I told my wife I wouldn’t be long.”

There was that dreaded word again. Wife.

“Right,” she whispered and watched him walk away from her again. The tears spilled over and she tried to wipe them away several times, before she just relented and let them fall.

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Hugh rolled his eyes when he saw the car pull up. He yelled to his worker and went to meet his unwelcome visitor.

“Mr Halikiopoulos, what can I do for you?” he said, folding his arms. The mutual disdain was obvious.

“I came for a bottle of your olive stuff, I want to know what the fuss is,” Spiros shrugged. The two men squared up and Hugh scoffed.

“I’m sure,” he said. “I’m guessing you’re here about Louisa.”

Just hearing another man say her name when he couldn’t, drove a spear through his chest.

Spiros went to open his mouth but Hugh touched his shoulder and he looked at the hand with a frown.

“Look, we both know how you feel about her, and that you came between us last time. But I won’t let you come between us again. Because, I, unlike you can offer her everything, You have a family, so you need to stop trying to appropriate another,” Hugh said in a low tone, but all the while with a cold smile. Spiros shrugged the hand from his shoulder and glared at him. He was angry. Angrier than he could remember ever being. He knew, however, that Hugh was right. They glared at each other before Spiros huffed and turned away, walking back to his car. Hugh seethed. His hands went to his hips and he chewed on his lip. He watched Spiros drive away before he turned back to his foreman, yelling at him to work harder.

His mind was churning and now with Spiros ‘tantrum’ he’d made his mind up. She would be his.

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“So what’s going on?” Florence said. She handed Louisa a cup of tea and sank into the seat opposite. Louisa wasn’t sure how she’d got roped into an impromptu therapy session; she had only walked Margo to work with the intention to go to the market after. But something on her face must have screamed ‘basket case’. And so here she was.

“Well-” she broke off with a weak laugh. Where to start. She sipped at the tea in the hopes she’d never have to speak. It didn’t work. Florence raised her eyebrows at her.

“Hugh’s back,” she said as if it was news. It wasn’t. Hugh had been back for nearly two months and Florence knew this.

“Right,” she only said, sipping her tea.

“He says he loves me,” Louisa said, vaguely smug. It was a relief not to be talking about Spiros for once, even if it was just for a moment.

“Is...is that a good thing?” Florence said, tilting her head to the side.

“Of course!” Louisa was too quick to answer and it was impossible not to notice the glance she drowned in her cup. Florence sat back and rested her hands on her knees.

“So... Spiros is...” she started, raising her eyebrows. Well that didn’t last long. Louisa resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Still married,” Louisa finished as nonchalantly as she could.

“He looks very miserable. I think he’s pining for you still,” Florence said and Louisa could feel herself reaching a point of white anger.

“You know, everyone keeps telling me about Spiros, and how we feel about each other. Larry keeps telling me I should fight to be with him, but it’s been 6 bloody months, his wife is still here and he barely talks to me anyway. It’s ... exhausting!” she snapped, gulping down the rest of the tea.

“Sorry,” her friend said sheepishly. “I just worry about you. I worry about Spiros. Neither of you have been happy in a long time.”

“Yes well I’m happy now. Hugh is not married,” Louisa reminded her quickly but Florence didn’t look convinced.

“And are you? Happy?” she said. Louisa avoided her glance and put her cup down. She stared at the clasped hands in her lap.

“I can be,” she finally said.

“Is that enough?”

“Well.... I can’t have what I want, so it’ll have to be,” she choked before taking a breath to steady her shuddering chest.

She was right, there was no way she could truly be happy, not without him, but she’d have to settle for the alternative. Maybe in time Hugh could make her happy. He seemed more in love with her than ever, doted on her. So why didn’t she love him back?

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Spiros found the plate of food before him incredibly interesting, apparently, for he stared into it even as his wife asked him how his day was. He only grunted in response. He pushed the food around the plate.

“Spiros?” his wife said and when he looked up she was staring at him, her hands spread out and her expression of exasperation. He was almost surprised to see her there, he expected another to be sat beside him. One who never would.

His name bracketed with Greek, and with an accent didn’t sound the same as it did with the innocence of the English tone. He missed the way SHE said his name.

“Hmm?” he said, forcing a smile onto his face. He looked from Celena to his children, trying to be as breezy as he could.

His son Isidoros grinned at him but his daughter Alexandria, slightly older, could see the cracks and looked at him curiously.

“I said did you fix the hen house? I found another wandering again?” Celena complained and he dropped his fist to the table, where it landed with a much harder slam than he’d intended. He rubbed his forehead with the other hand.

“For God’s sake Celena, I said I’d get to it!” he snapped, ignoring the flash of hurt on her face. After all, she was his jailer, he couldn’t pretend he was anything other than a caged lion. He failed to notice the confused looks his children exchanged.

“Papa,” Alexandria said tentatively.

“What?!” he said, jerking his head to look at her. Even at 12, she was more grownup than he’d like. And now her beautiful face was contorted in the kind of horror a child usually displayed when they were shouted at. He instantly felt guilty. He hated snapping at his children. He smiled at her and she sat back in the chair with the smallest of pouts.

Celena frowned at him. She knew something wasn’t right with him, hadn’t been for a while but she never attributed it to their return from Athens.

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, punctuated only by the dullest of small talk. All the while Spiros wanted to scream.

“Papa, you don’t seem very happy,” Alexandria looked up at him from her bed and he leaned back before taking her hand. He had leant in to give her a goodnight kiss and she had noticed the sadness in his eyes. He smiled just for her.

“Of course I am happy, how could I not be? I have you and your brother,” he leaned in and she finally broke into a reassured smile. He kissed her again and extinguished the lamp.

His smile stayed plastered to his face until he had shut the door and rested his back against it. It took several deep breaths before he could face his wife. And when he walked into their small living room she was sat with her back to him, her back stiff and her head bowed.

“I’m going to bed,” Spiros said, almost unable to meet her gaze when she turned around. She watched him go and he sank onto the bed, eyes closed. He pulled off his shirt, imagining another’s hands slipping each button from its hole. He could almost feel the ghost of her lips on his, even though they’d never actually kissed. The door opened behind him and for a split second he thought it was her, even though every recess of his mind told him it couldn’t be possible.

A weight settled on the bed behind at his back and he looked at the space between his feet. Arms snaked around his shoulders and his wife hugged him from behind. She kissed his neck. He tilted his head away.

“Celena,” he said wearily. It took every ounce of his self control not to call her ‘Louisa’. She ignored him and kissed the back of his neck, sliding a hand down under his vest.

“Celena! Please!” he growled. There it was again, ‘Louisa’ on the tip of his tongue. Oh how he yearned to taste her. To move as one. He hated himself. How could he possibly be having salacious thoughts of another woman whilst his wife was around his neck? But it wasn’t lust or purely sexual. It was love and that’s why he struggled to shake it off.

“Come on my darling, we haven’t... since...” she murmured in his ear.

“Since you left, you mean?” he said in a low voice. And about the time, I started thinking of making love to somebody else, he thought.

“But I’m back now,” she purred. Didn’t he know it!? He could be with HER if she hadn’t come back. Instead now he was a shell.

“I have a headache,” he lied. He could almost smell Louisa’s hair, the way it smelt so floral, the day he broke both their hearts.

“Come on,” she said again, her voice sultry and beckoning.

“I don’t want to,” he snapped and she pulled away. He knew he should feel guilty but he didn’t.

“Fine!” she said stroppily and pulled away.

He waited until she had blown the candle out and got under the blankets before he slid into the uncomfortable bed. He stared up at the ceiling unblinking. Was Louisa at Hugh’s tonight? Was he between her thighs where HE should be? He desperately tried not to think of it. He had no business thinking that way and he wanted it to stop. Didn’t he?

#louisa durrell #fanfiction #settling for contrasts #spiros halikiopoulos #hugh the olive guy #just found out his surname is jarvis #but he'll always be the olive guy to me #fic #spiros x louisa #louisa x spiros #the durrells

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