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#boss guy's wife tears apart the content while i nod in agreement with her most of the time and boss guy defends his bad choices
korattata · 5 months
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Its honestly really funny that a big part of my job is to have a weekly 2 hour long meeting where i listen to an old married couple argue about things while i just sit there the whole time.
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yourstateofdreaming · 5 years
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The Favor [Gwilym Lee x Reader] Part VI
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Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader
Warnings: this one gets angsty.
A/N: I am sorry, I had to write this.
Gwil held the bouquet of flowers with both hands, he and Joe were not sure of how to approach the situation but they did the best they could on this rare day off.
It had all started a few weeks back, (Name) had invited Gwil to her father’s exhibition and the two seemed to get along more than just fine; had it not been that the actor was busy with the project, he would have asked her out but he knew he had to remain focused on his work. She, for once, was content with the friendliness of their relationship. Having ended things with Rufus in an odd place made her feel like working and nothing else, Roger made it easy for her, he was having meetings left and right and soon with the movie going to post-production and premiering he would need her more than ever.
Of course things never worked out how one wanted, and (Name) could not attend to her job properly after her father returned to South Africa; he got ill again, this time for the worst. A couple years back he had been diagnosed with skin cancer, which was taken care of as it was detected early; but this time the cancer was in a different more difficult place to treat. It was in his brain. Everyone thought the same thing, and Roger did not even doubt giving her the time off so she could go and see her father. The journey left her tired and the following weeks tested her like nothing else ever had. Her father’s conditioned worsened with each passing day and although the prognosis was bad, (Name) remained hopeful that she would at least get a few more weeks with her before the inevitable happened. It was a Sunday morning when all hopes she had finally shattered, Peter Y/L/N passed away during the night. At least during his sleep, peacefully in his own bed, surrounded by flowers from his friends all over the world, in the place he loved most and with his only daughter cuddled next to him.
Roger hated to pick up the phone that afternoon, seeing the number and knowing it was from Peter’s home in Johannesburg he thought it would be his assistant with an update on her father’s health, she never told them just how bad it was so the news came without even a warning only the soft voice of this young woman holding back her tears as she spoke on the phone.
“I’m bringing him back to London,” she croaked, a runny nose evident to her boss on the other end of the line, “he wants...wanted to be buried next to his parents. It will take a couple of day, I hope you don’t mind...”
“Of cours not, Kitten,” Roger felt a sting in his eyes, (Name) was an upbeat song with a catchy tune, listening to her like this made him worry. “Do you need anything? Any help?”
Sarina and Lola came into the living room to find Roger talking on the phone, they understood poorly but caught on once they could see the drummer’s expression. Tigs would be fuming when she realized she had been late to the news.
“Thank you,” she sniffed on the other end of the line, he punched by the small gesture, “Dad’s manager is taking care of most of it. Thank you, Roger.”
They could not see each other but they both smiled into th phone at that moment. Silence fell for a second before the old drummer assured (Name) that he and his family were there for her, in case she needed anything.
She traveled back home with a casket, bothered by the media. Paparazzi following her out of the airport and to her old home where she would be staying until the funeral.
And so now, here were Joe and Gwilym standing outside her door, unable to say a word that could console their friend.
“Maybe we should just...” Joe paused, “be here.”
“Yeah...” Gwil nodded in agreement.
The tallest one rang the bell and the two waited in silence until the door was opened by (Name) herself. She looked nothing like they remembered.
She seemed to be paler than ever, her hair usually so carefully styled was now tied back into a dull ponytail. Dark circles surrounded her reddened eyelids and the E/C irises they remembered looked almost dead. Her black sweater matched her black pants.
She stepped to the side to let them in. Gwilym felt stupid giving her the flowers, but still did so in silence. The house was quiet and big enough for a family of six, it only made her loneliness echo and bounce on each wall. The only company she had had since coming back had been Peter’s manager and lawyer; she refused to have the Taylors see her right now even though she knew she needed company. This was a surprise, but she opened the door and held the flowers.
Her eyes fell on the bright blue petals of the fluffy asters.
“From the cast and crew,” Gwil explained in a soft tone.
“Thank you.” She mumbled with a raspy voice, unable to form a smile or look up at her friends.
Joe bent his knees and tilted his body back, pursing his lips before opening his arms and offering (Name) his most sincerest condolences. She gave him a cold hug and did not bother to look at his face at all.
“I appreciate it, Joe.” She recited like a child would in a school play. “Would you like some tea?”
Gwil accepted the offer and started following her through the narrow hall into a large living room, a piano sat closed in the corner and past the double doors they walked into the dining room.
“I’ll take some coffee,” Joe let out, making her stop and look over her shoulder with a frown.
Did she even have coffee in the house? Her father’s manager and his wife had been the ones who brought in the groceries so she would have to find out.
Gwilym turned to Joe, shaking his head. He opened his eyes as wide as they could go and tilted his head to the side with a stern look, to which Joe then added:
“Actually, yes! Tea sounds wonderful, (Name), thanks!”
She kept on walking and they were brought into a large spacious white kitchen.
(Name) pulled one of the tall chairs out and told the men to sit by the kitchen island while she poured some water into a bright yellow kettle that already rested atop the stove empty.
“So how are you holding up?” Joe asked in a discreet manner, leaning forward on the cold marble top of the island.
(Name) reached up and opened one fo the cupboards, finding a package of biscuits she then put on a plate and brought to the guys.
She stared at the sink in front of her and scratched a spot over her left brow. How was she holding up? Was she even holding up? She had been unable to go to her own apartment, the press was already waiting for her there. And the news everywhere spoke of her father, telling tales of his wonderful career, talent, failed marriage and surviving daughter.
She could not sleep, waking up in cold sweats from the nightmares. Consumed by guilt, (Name) was guilty for staying in England while her father followed his heart to another continent, doing what most wouldn’t do. She had been an awful daughter, barely taking the time off from work or school to visit her dad. She owed him the world, the man had raised her on his own, battled through everything to cope with her difficult teenage years and later supported her in whatever she wanted to do when she was off to university. And she could not do much more than stand by when he died.
“Papa...” she started, her lip quivered, “papa is gone.”
She could say it over and over but it did not feel real. It had been so sudden and so painful waking up to his cold hand between hers. All (Name) could think of was that it was a horrible prank, a bad dream.
“Yes.” Joe agreed, trying to show her patience and care, he reached out and put his hand on hers. “But you are still here, how are you?”
Joe’s accent had switched back to American and she examined his hand as she thought of his words.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “I have lived alone for years, it’s just now...it’s like... there is nobody in the world who I can call.” She explained in a whisper, reasoning out loud. “I think I’m scared.”
Her eyes watered and she hated it, blinking a few times she turned her back on them and brought the cups out, she left them on the counter and wiped her nose with the back of her hand.
“How’s shooting going?”
Gwilym answered and gave her a little explanation as to why Rami and Ben were not there.
“I think you should let more people in.” Gwilym gave her a delicate look, keeping his expression soft and warm as she sat the cup of tea in front of him. “Thanks.”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around her body. She nodded, knowing it to be true. Anyone who had seen her since the passing of her father advised the same thing.
“I know you need time.” Joe did not date even touch the hot cup of tea as he spoke to his fragile friend, “but maybe you could find a distraction.”
Joe pointed behind his back with his thumb, referring to the piano in her fabulous living room.
“I don’t play anymore.” She refused, and shook her head no.
“Well, it’s better than turning the tv on.” Gwilym eyed Joe and the two nodded.
The two actors took sips of their tea, she sat across from them with a blank expression while her tea got cold.
Joe has been able to joke around with (Name) before, she was around the set for the first few days of shooting when Roger and Brian were there; and even when they were not, she got along with Ben right away and laughed at him when he first came out of the makeup trailer in costume. Like himself, (Name) had never met John and only knew little of him from what Roger and Brian had told her. Still, (Name) tried to pay equal attention to Joe as she did to Ben, retelling him stories Roger had told her at some point about Deacon. Much like Roger, the young brunette enjoyed having fun with her job.
He and Gwilym looked up in great surprise when out of the blue she started laughing. The two made an effort to look away and hide their concern but she held on to the edge of the kitchen island as the hysteric fits of laughter washed over her entire body. A memory of her father made her laugh this much.
It had been on her sixteenth birthday that he decided his daughter needed a car! He had money now and he could afford it, the only problem was that when he showed her the beautiful and classic blue Mini Cooper she did not jump in excitement or hugged him. (Name) scratched the back of her head and frowned up at her father.
“I can’t drive.” She reminded him in confusion.
She had, in all honesty, never seen her dad get so flustered and confused at the same time. His expression changed from excitement to concern and to embarrassment. Of course, what was he thinking? But (Name) did not take it personally, she took the keys from his hand and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the car.
“I guess you’ll have to teach me!”
Her father laughed, oblivious as to how scary teaching his daughter how to drive could be.
(Name)’s eyes watered with tears, she could not tell if they were from the laughter or if they were more grieve induced tears. She did not care, as she found out soon enough with the shakes that crept up her spine, the whimpers and sobs she was too weak to keep inside. Papa is gone, she remembered, and her heart struggled to beat as usual.
Gwilym reacted first, rushing to leave his seat and come to her while she covered her face with her hands. Joe felt almost dizzy and uncomfortable, wondering how anything he said would make her feel better. None of it mattered, (Name) was coming undone and needed to be held together. Gwil wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to his chest, shushing her wish soft whispers and promising it would all be okay.
She leaned into him and cried away, accepting at last that she hated being alone, especially in the big house where her father had raised her.
(Name) asked Gwilym to call Roger once she calmed down enough to wipe her face and look up at him. He and Joe stayed with her while the drummer arrived with his wife and daughters Tigs and Lola. They had to go attend other duties as it was their day off, but Joe and Gwil were certain that their friend would be alright once they saw her running up to Roger, who wrapped her in a tight paternal embrace while Sarina and his daughters rubbed the girls’ back. (Name) was not alone, she still had a family.
Next One Soon
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