#do you have any idea how much i've cried over stone ocean

[corpsoir]

he chose Jolyne over the universe you know

[hazbbyhaz]

sleepless || harry styles

fifteen

pairing: Harry Styles x OC

synopsis: beach things

disclaimer: the beach, cameras, minor injury, talk of childhood, mentions of death

Everything is different by the sea

“Look!” Avery lets her shoes drop as she runs towards the open sea. “We’re right on time!” The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the sky in a beautiful coral, as Harry met her at the shoreline.

“I told you this was a good idea. Quite frankly, I think that I only have good ideas.” Harry smirked, his eyes fixed on the horizon in front of them. The beach was relatively empty, only an elderly man and his dog passing them when they had first arrived. It was easy to imagine that this place belonged to them, and only them. Their safe space where nothing could hurt them.

Avery rolled her eyes at his remark and placed the blanket that she had brought down onto the sand, flattening the strawberry colored material. Finally settling, she laid with her legs stretched out and her arms bent behind her, supporting her weight. Soon Harry was sat by her side, legs crossed while he fiddled with the small stones in the sand. Neither of them felt the need to speak. The air around them was feather-light and enjoyable. Seagulls started to circle above them, their cries echoing over the beach.

“This is my second time at the beach,” Avery’s eyes fell shut as the sun rays illuminated her skin. “I shall come more often.”

Harry chuckles, now leaning back on his elbows next to her. “Sometimes you talk like you are from the Victorian age.”

She blushed at his words, but quickly caught herself, trying to not get embarrassed by the teasing. “Well, making a statement like that is awfully rude Mr…”

“Styles?” He suggests with a quirked brow.

“Styles. Mr Styles.” She let out a hearty laugh, allowing herself to blush. “I've never heard that name before… it suits you.”

“What does that mean?” He questions, joining in with her laughter.

“It fits your personality, I think so at least.”

“Well, thank you.” Their eyes meet for a moment before they both turn back to face the sea.

“Who took you to the ocean last?”

“My dad,” She said. “I was around five I think, I don’t really remember a lot of it. My parents are divorced, but he had insisted on spending this particular weekend with me. We flew a massive kite and had a bonfire on the beach later that night. Have you ever had a bonfire?”

He finds her question a peculiar one. A bonfire seemed, to him, to be a thing that people did often. It didn’t seem like some amazing thing that only a couple of people had the chance of experiencing. “Yes, quite a few.”

“Oh,” She frowns. “I've only ever had the one, but it was really nice.”

“Where is your dad now?”

“He’s dead. Car accident.”

He looked over at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. “Oh Ave… I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It's okay. It was a long time ago. I don't think about it much anymore, there isn't much to hold onto anyway.”

She shrugged. He tried to look for the slightest sign that would tell him that there indeed was something more. Trying to see if he had bothered her in any way. He found nothing.

“What about your mom?” He nearly jumps as Avery immediately stood up, brushing the access sand off of her clothes.

“Can you take a photo of me? Just one.” She said quietly, the request nearly a whisper, looking down at him with a troubled smile.

“My camera is in the car.” He continued, getting up. “But I can get it, one minute.” Hary made his way back to the car, leaving Avery by the sea. He could swear he saw a tear slip down her cheek, but, just like with Francis, he acted like he didn’t see it. Being blatantly ignorant to the problems he knows exist.

“What should I do?” Avery asks as Harry appears with his camera, the device hanging around his neck. At this moment, it was obvious to her that he was a photographer. It was the way that he looked at their surroundings, trying to give the best suggestions as to what she would do that showed her that he was passionate about the matter. He took a lot of care in the photos he produced, and it was nice to see someone so in love with what they did.

“Well, what are you offering me?” He holds up the camera, looking through the viewfinder to regulate the lens.

“Uhm… I can do a cartwheel!” She stretches her arm up high, her shirt riding up in the process. She shudders as the cold air hits her exposed stomach. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

She lifts her leg to gain some momentum, and before she can complete the trick, her shoulder connects with the ground. Avery sits up, rubbing her now aching shoulder and wiping the sand off of her pullover. “Fuck.” she sighs, Harry runs towards her, kneeling down by her side. His camera dangling loosely around his neck.

“Are you alright?” His eyes scanning over her frame in search of any injuries, bringing his hand up to gently rest on her shoulder. “Does your shoulder hurt?”

“Yeah, but it's fine. It's probably just going to bruise.” She grimaces but lets out a breath as she notices that she can move it without any major pain. “Did you get the shot?”

“No, sorry. I was more concerned about your health,” He gets up first, giving her his hand to help her from the ground. “Careful.” He murmurs lightly under his breath.

“Let's do another one.”

“But no cartwheel.”

“No cartwheel,” Avery promises, so Harry will get back into his previous position, adjusting the camera to the lighting. “Now that I don't have the cartwheel option I don't know what to do… what about a handstand?”

“No, Avery. You have the balance of Vincent Van Gogh.”

She rolls her eyes at his joke but agrees with his statement. A handstand is a bad idea. Instead, she turns her back to the camera, looking out at the ocean. “Take one like this.”

“But then I can see your face?” He begins to argue.

“I don't want my face to be in it.” She takes the scrunchie out of her hair, letting it flow freely in the wind. Harry sighs, but nevertheless, he takes the photo. A little bit after Avery hears the shutter sound, she turns back around to face him.

Harry is looking at his camera, presumably at the picture he had just taken. Out of nowhere, this worry overloads Avery. She had let herself go. She had been too bossy with her statements, she had been rude, and ungrateful. Was he mad at her? Is that why he sighed? Was this a warning sign for her to not take anything further?

“I'm sorry.” Avey grabs onto her hand, attempting to cease its incessant shaking as Harry raises his gaze.

“What? Sorry for what?”

She visibly swallows. “I was being rude and bossy towards you. I didn't mean it and I'm really sorry, Harry. I swear it won't happen again. I swear.”

“Avery, what are you talking about?” He lets go of his camera, letting it hang around his neck while he slowly makes his way to where she was standing.

“You aren't being rude. You were just talking about the picture. I'm not mad at you, why would you think that?”

Her eyes dropped from her own, now embarrassed at her assumption. “Because of your sigh, I thought you were annoyed with me…”

“I'm not annoyed with you, Ave. I just… it doesn't matter. We’re fine, we’re okay. I'm not mad or annoyed, okay?”

“No. Why did you sigh?” She asks, and she could slap herself for how she sounded. This is not how she was raised at all. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Just, please tell me.”

Harry's eyes drop for only a moment before he is staring directly into her irises. His green eyes meeting her blue ones. “It's just… there is no reason for you to look away from the camera, Ave… and I guess this is just a long-winded way of saying that I think you are beautiful.”

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Taglist: if you would like to be added, please tell me!

@serenametanoia @magicalmongerherringfan @caliqueenbed

[zyettemoon1800]

Um... Hello? First: I've read everything you've got at that blog and can I say, how much I'm LOVIN it? Next: if you accept requests, please one with pillarmen and S/O, that has a sneaky trickster personality? Like... Jokes, puns, real stupid jokes, dark humour(Thanks, Esidisi) aaaand pranks. So much of them! Like, food colouring and glitter at the shower(Yesss, pink sparkly water), hands cream instead toothpaste, showing up with "nails" in the face, sayin' "Any doctor here"?

I’m happy that you love my writing. It makes me happy that people like my writing.

Even though Kars loves you, he hates your trickster personality.

He’s so tire of your childish pranks and not funny jokes.

But what really crossed the line was when he came out the shower with pink sparkling hair.

For some reason you though it would be funny to put food coloring and glitter into his shower thinking nothing too bad would happen to him.

You heard him yell your name as he opened your door, revealing a angry Kars with pink hair covering two of his horns and his face.

You held your laughter, as he remind you of a pissed off unicorn.

As punishment he made you wash is hair tell it turned back to it’s original color which took three hours.

By the end of the day, your arms were beyond tired and you learned your lesson..............for now anyways.

 He loves and your stupid jokes, but pranks are different.

He likes it when you come into his room when a funny joke you learned from Jojo, but his favorite are the dark humor ones.

The more sick and sadistic the better.

Some pranks he like, other leave him crying for hours.

You and Jojo thought it would be funny to tell Esidisi that you died in a horrible accident, even though Caesar told both of you, you would regret.

You put a fake knife in your head and fake blood around the floor. 

To anyone else , this would look like a real murder scene.  

You quickly got into position when you heard Esidisi and Jojo come into the room.

Esidisi cried as he held you close to him, he couldn’t believe his little was dead, but that all changed when he stop crying.

He grabbed Jojo by the neck as you started to smell flesh burning.

You quickly got up and took the knife out of your head and told Esidisi it was a prank.

He dropped Jojo as he faced you with tears in his eyes. He hugged you tightly as he cried relieved that you weren’t dead, but of course after the crying comes the scares.

He throw you over his shoulder and put you in a corner in his room.

Even when you pleaded that your legs were getting tired, he would ignore you and continue reading his book.

As for Jojo, Esidisi made him walk on hot coals 10 times before he could go.

You never did anything that extreme again.

Wamuu really doesn’t like any of your pranks or jokes, but he won’t stop you because they make you happy.

Most of the times he doesn’t understand the jokes and always try to make it into a realistic thing.

Like when you ask him “ Why did the fish blush?” He would look at you with a questionable look,waiting for you to finish “Because it saw the ocean’s bottom! “ You said laughing 

He would then say say “Fish don’t blush, they don’t have that type of trait. and the ocean is a bottomless pit of water and the great unknown.” 

By the time he’s done talking you don’t even feel like joking around anymore.

Though the jokes are okay, he draws the line at extreme pranks.

One day while he was resting in his bed you came in with nails on your face, holding a hammer, and asking him if he was a capable doctor.

When he saw the slight in front of him, he jumped out of bed and ran toward you as you fell on the stone floor. 

He started to shake you, calling your name.

You started smiling widely and telling him “He’ll float too.” While holding up the hammer.

As much as you tried to stay in character, you started to laugh aloud.

Wamuu caught on to your joke, but he didn’t laugh or smile. He picked you up, sat in a chair, and scolded you. 

After he told you about how serious it not to fake something like that, he took all of your prank items and put them in a place that you couldn’t reach or look for them. (On top of a mountain.)

Little did he know you had another box of stuff under the bed.

Santana doesn’t understand any of the things that you do and doesn’t try to understand.

You learned the hard way NEVER do pranks on him after the last incident (trust me you don’t want to know what foolish thing you did to this poor man)

You try showing him cool tricks that you learned, but he saw through all them and told you how you did it.

The only ones he will say he likes are the card tricks you learned from Jojo.

You told him a few jokes and he just look at you and went back to do whatever you were doing.

Sometimes if you tell too many jokes, he’ll kiss you to shush you up.

This one was really fun. Sorry that some of them are shorter that others. If anyone as any other ideas you want to see just submit an ask. Until next time my pups.

[katedrakeohd]

The Royal Honor 👑

Chapter Four

A repost for @ritachacha 😊

A ‘The Royal Heir’ Fanfiction

________________________

All According to Plan

Kate leaned against the closed bedroom door, her eyes burning and sore from wiping at her tears. On the other side of the door she hears Drake mumble something and then the slam of the door as he leaves. In the silence that followed she could hear the echoes of their argument going through her head. She felt a mixture of anger and remorse for all the hurtful things she had said to him. He had bared an intimate and secret part of his life to her and she had tarnished it by throwing it back in his face.

Sliding down the door she crumples to the floor. What the hell just happened? How could Drake do this to me? We just talked last night about having a baby, and it all felt perfect and wonderful. He knew damn well that Nicholas was going to come here and ask us for his heir. He knew all of this was going to happen and he didn't bother to warn me. Because it was all part of their stupid plan.

“That Son of a Bitch. How could he do this to me? To us?” she cried out loud to the empty room.

Grabbing handfuls of her hair she rests her forehead on her knees. I need a way out of this situation. I need to convince Drake this is a bad idea. But wait he's already jumped into the shark tank with his pockets full of chum. What an idiot I've been not to see this coming. His whole life he's sacrificed his own happiness for Nicholas. Why would I expect things to change after we got married? Even at Valtoria we're still under his thumb. Any semblance of a normal life or freedom is all an illusion.

Kate can feel the grit of sand in her hair, it collects under her fingernails as she scratches her scalp. After a week on this damn island there was no escaping the sand. Thank God this was the last night here. Sitting up she wipes the tears off her neck and chest, feels the gritty sand in her bikini top. With a sigh she gets up off the floor and takes off her clothes. Walking over to the full length mirror she looks for more sand. Pulling her hair off to the side she inspects her naked body.

Smoothing her hand over her breast she lifts it and brushes away the grains that had been trapped underneath. She looks down at her smooth, flat belly. Biting her lip she fights back more tears. Smoothing both hands across from hip to hip, she tries to imagine her belly swollen with a baby inside of it. She might already be pregnant. Her last period had been the week before the wedding, nearly a month ago. With Drake's sexual appetite it was quite probable that something has already taken root. She should be happy at the idea that the product of their love could already be blossoming. But the thought of Nicholas announcing to the world that their child would be his successor made her feel ill. She was seriously regretting ever coming to Cordonia in the first place.

As she tried to brush off the sandy grit from her skin she became increasingly frustrated. She wanted to rid herself of this cursed place for good. This island, Cordonia, stupid Two-faced Nicholas, god damned lying Drake, everything. As she swipes at the grit under her armpit, the stones of her wedding ring scrape at the underside of her arm, leaving a red mark. Ahh! Motherfuck that hurt.

She tugs at her rings angrily trying to get them off, but only one will move. Drake's engagement ring. Holding it in her shaking palm, she considers throwing it across the room but she can't. Clenching the ring in her fist she sucks in a deep breath and screams, long and loud, until her throat and lungs burn from the effort. With tears streaming down her face, her body shaking, Kate walks over to the bedside table and slams the ring down under her palm. Feeling jagged and torn on the inside from Drake's betrayal, she looks around the bedroom suite.

This was supposed to be our honeymoon damn it. Up until today it had been perfect.

Her skin felt raw and sore as she wiped at the tears on her cheeks. The salt and the sand, she needed to wash all of it away and pull herself back together. Leaving her engagement ring on the nightstand she goes to the bathroom to take a shower.

The hot sun beats down on Drake's shoulders and back as he walks along the beach. His footprints in the cool wet sand are rinsed and then flushed away by the bubbling surf. He and Kate had walked many kilometers of this beach during their week together. They had laughed and played in the shallows, filled their pockets with pretty pebbles or seashells, and swam naked in the waves. Drake had been truly happy, and so had Kate. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. The beauty of her smile made him want to cry.

Seeing her so angry at him today had been heartbreaking. He knew he was wrong to go behind her back and make this deal with Nicholas. He had been torn between helping his friend and the commitment he had just made to his wife. They pledged to be honest about everything, no matter how much the truth might hurt. But he also knew if he had brought up this royal heir business before the honeymoon, her answer would still have been a resounding no. So he was fucked either way.

Turning back in the direction of the villa, he stops walking as a clump of seaweed washes up against his foot. When he angrily kicks it away, his toe catches on something rough in the sand. Sidestepping and hopping out of the surf he lifts up his foot to check for damage. There aren't any marks on his skin, but the waves tumble the object up onto the beach. It’s half of an oyster shell. Picking it up, he intends to throw it back in the ocean but then hesitates and puts it into his pocket instead. He remembers how Kate liked to pick up shells during their walks. The oyster shells were her favorite. At first he couldn't understand why. To him they were rough and ugly, and sharp. He had stepped on many of them when he'd been distracted by Kate.

Her smile, her laugh, the way she looks at me, means I'm almost always distracted by Kate

He thought back to the second day of their trip. They had been walking along the beach and Kate had picked up an oyster shell.

They remind me of you, she'd said.

They're ugly and rough Kate, hardly a compliment.

That just made her laugh, Oysters are rough around the edges, almost like they have a stony armor. But if you can crack one open there can be treasure inside.

You mean like pearls?, he'd said.

Something tasty, or something precious. But always something special.

Drake had blushed at her comparison, mostly at him being something tasty.

When she had turned the shells over and shown him the beautiful sheen of the mother of pearl on the inside, he had understood how every oyster held something special.

She had seen something special in him despite the walls of stone he'd tried to throw up around his heart. To her he was like an oyster forming pearly layers around a grain of sand and making something beautiful to give to her.

On every beach walk after that day, he had tried to find her the prettiest shells, still not convinced that ugly oysters should be her favorite. She would just smile and shake her head, so he had given up on shells and started collecting rocks instead. When the tide went out they'd sit on the cool, damp sand and see how far they could toss them, counting the waves as a scale. Drake always won, but Kate didn't mind. She spent the time comparing the oyster shells she’d found for the one she liked best. But she never kept them, preferring to let the ocean have its treasures back.

Walking back to the villa, Drake pulls the shell out of his pocket. It's still sandy, so he bends down to rinse it in the water. It was their last full day on the island and he wanted Kate to have one shell to bring back home with her. A souvenir, and a peace offering. To prove that the trip had had some moments that were special, before their fight had tarnished things.

Kate steps out of the steamy bathroom after her shower. Her skin was pink from the hot water and from the scrubbing effort to remove every last grain of sand. She didn't want to use the fluffy towels that Nicholas had provided, and instead walked over to the window to air dry. Opening it and the curtains wide, she enjoyed how the warm sunshine bathed her skin all over again, and how the fresh air rinsed her clean. Off in the far distance she can see a lone figure walking along the beach. She recognizes Drake right away by his bright blue shorts. He had chosen them because they reminded him of Captain America. She had smiled because it reminded her how much he was still just a little kid at heart, even if he was almost 30. Running her hand over her bare belly again, she thought about what a great Dad Drake would be. She wanted to start a family with him so badly, but not in the public way that their first child being heir to the throne would constantly overshadow things. She, Drake and Nicholas had to talk this over again. Without the interruption they'd had this morning.

But for now she was alone, and she intended to enjoy it. Closing her eyes she basked in the warm sunshine as her hands roamed her body. The risk of being so exposed, coupled with the sensation of her smooth hands on her fresh clean skin just added to the erotic thrill. The fresh air teased at her skin as her body started to dry. Her wet hair dripping onto her chest accentuated the cooling effect.

Her areolas puckered as her nipples hardened. Pinching and pulling one nipple roughly between her fingers she feels the spark set off fireworks down below. Biting her lip, she reaches down between her legs where she knows she's still warm and damp from her shower.

It had been a while since she'd had intimate time like this to herself. During the social season her mornings had been interrupted by Maxwell. But her evenings had been all about her thoughts of Drake while she'd laid alone in her bed. Back then her thoughts had all been fantasies. But now she knew how wonderful it felt for him to touch her intimately with his hands and his mouth. Kate gasps as the thrill of remembering enhanced her desire, and the movement of her fingers stimulated her clit. She couldn't do this standing up anymore as the need to spread her legs became more urgent.

The crazy thought of placing her foot up on the windowsill crosses her mind, but then she pushes it away because standing on one foot would make her unstable and apt to fall over. With giddy excitement she runs over to the bed. Throwing off the blanket she leaves just the crisp white top sheet behind. Smoothing her hands over the cool surface, she relishes the rare moment to have such a big bed to herself. She slinks her naked body across the mattress like a cat, arching her back, and then sliding along on her belly. Giggling, she rolls over and lays spread eagle in the middle of the bed. Her hair falls over her face, and she combs it out across the pillow with her fingers. The breeze from the open window finds her again, stimulating her already aroused nerve endings as it tickled her skin.

Glancing toward the door she wondered how much time she would have before Drake returned. As exciting as it would be to get caught, she wasn't interested in giving him a free show and making him horny. This was her private naked time, not his. Bringing her knees up she slid her hand back down between her legs.

Drake was hot, sandy and thirsty by the time he returned to the villa to change for dinner. He had entertained the thought of stripping down and taking a dip in the ocean to cool off, but then remembered how the paparazzi had found them all on the beach this morning. For all he knew they were watching him right now. Raking his hands back through his windblown hair in an attempt to tame it, he takes one last look around before turning the doorknob and entering the villa. He's immediately struck by the refreshing cool air conditioning and he sighs with relief. After brushing his feet off on the doormat, he closes the door. The house felt empty in the silence. As he walked across the cool floor to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, he wondered if Kate had gone out. After opening his water and taking a drink, he looked around the space again. Kate's sandals were still by the couch where she had left them, and her phone was still on the coffee table. Turning his head he looks down the hall to the bedroom and sees that the door was closed. Was she still in there? Taking a nap? Was she still mad at him? After drinking down the rest of his bottled water, he decides to investigate. He needed to shower and change his clothes anyway. Tiptoeing to the bedroom he listens at the door. He couldn't hear anything. He knocks quietly and then opens the door to peek inside.

Kate is naked in the bed, half covered by the sheet. She's laying on her side facing away from him, seemingly asleep. Drake can't help but stare at her as he quietly steps into the room. She looked all tousled and spent as if she'd just been ravaged by an invisible lover. The white sheet was twisted around her, and one of her beautiful tanned legs was exposed. He wanted so badly to touch her, to pull back the sheet some more and drink in the sight of her nakedness. He had the sudden desire to hold her in his arms.

Drake wanted to mold himself to her in the way he knew her soft body fit so perfectly with his. But her spiteful words and the hurt in her eyes suddenly came back to him, and he knew it was too soon. His ardor cooled further as he noticed the glint of gold on the nightstand. Was she still mad at him? Was this a message?

Walking over to the bed he pulls the shell out of his pocket. He swaps the ring for the seashell on the nightstand. Looking down at her still form for a moment he decides to leave her alone. She had said that she wasn't interested in going to dinner with him and Nicholas, and he was hungry and missed his friends. Still holding her ring in his hand he goes to his suitcase to pick out something to wear. He slips the ring into one of the small pockets on the outside of his suitcase. He'd give it back to her later. If she still wanted it.

Taking off his shorts and underwear he tosses them over with her discarded clothes. I guess that's the only thing of mine that's going to be touching anything of hers tonight.

As Drake showered and then dressed, Kate laid quietly in the bed with her eyes closed. She wondered whether Drake would say something or try to wake her, or if he'd kiss her goodbye before he left. When she heard the bedroom door close, and then the muffled sound of the villa's door closing, she stopped wondering and started to cry.

Drake's feet floundered and swam across the sand as he walked toward the rendezvous point. He was wearing sandals and he hated them. The hot sand just flicked off the flat soles like he was trying to paddle a canoe. Taking a hard left, he headed for the ocean and the wet packed sand along the shoreline. The sandals had been Kate's idea to add some more tourist chic to his new honeymoon wardrobe. She had taken one look at his scuffed up brown shoes and then dragged him into the shoe store. He had grumbled that nobody other than her needed to see his bare toes or feet, and besides they were going to a private island.

You can't go barefoot over the entire island Drake, and I'd hate to smell the state of your feet if you chose to plod along in your old shoes in the hot sand for a week.

You sound like Olivia when you nitpick me like that.

Good, I'm glad some of her taste for harsh criticism has rubbed off on me. You're a grown man Drake, and I'm not going to sugarcoat the truth when you really need to hear it.

Drake had been at a loss to refute her logic, but at least she had let him pick out his own sandals, as much as he'd hated the concept of wearing open toed shoes in a sandy environment in the first place. He had chosen the most rugged and sporty looking pair he could find. She had chosen a flimsy cute pair of flipper things that he couldn't believe could possibly be comfortable. She had just shrugged and told him to appreciate his ‘mandals' because her footwear would totally show off how cute her toes were, and how nice her nail polish looked. He thought of pointing out that after a week in the abrasive sand that there wouldn't be much point in nail polish, but had held his tongue because she had no doubt paid someone for a pedicure and lacquer.

As he made his way around the edge of the cove he spotted his friends standing on an outdoor wooden deck shaded by a pergola. A long rustic table was set for dinner, and beyond it a small comfortable seating area was clustered around a stone firepit. The whole area looked warm and welcoming with sparkling string lighting and hanging baskets of tropical flowers. Drake felt a pang of sadness that Kate would be missing out on this evening of fellowship, considering their friends had come so far to spend the day with them. Hana and Maxwell wave and smile at him as he approaches.

“Hey! There's the delightful Duke we all adore. Where's Kate?” Maxwell says, as he waits for Drake to bang the sand out of his sandals before stepping up onto the deck.

Drake gratefully accepts the cold beer that Nicholas offers him out of the ice chest packed with refreshments.

“She..uh. Kate's had a little too much sun today and decided to take a nap. She sends her apologies.” Drake says, with a shuffle of his feet as he busies himself with opening up his beer to hide his lie.

Hana frowns with disappointment, “That's too bad. I hope she's able to join us later. It would be a shame to spend the rest of the evening without her.”

Drake nods, taking a drink of his beer. He catches Nicholas’ look of concern but then quickly looks away. “So Maxwell, tell me all about your zipline adventure today.”

Maxwell bubbles with excitement at the opportunity to recount their story, “Oh My Gosh Drake it was totally awesome, you should have been there!”

He proceeds to act out the whole afternoon including impersonations of Hana and Nicholas as they screamed and flew along the cable from point to point. Hana couldn't help but laugh at his spot on reenactment of the harrowing and crazy experience.

“At the end of it we all joined hands and jumped off the last cliff into the ocean.” Maxwell says, finally out of breath from acting out and experiencing the whole thing over again. He goes to the ice chest to get himself a beer to calm himself down.

“I must say after such an intense day I'm starving. Come on Max let's go check out the appetizer buffet.” Hana says, grabbing him by the arm and leading him away.

Nicholas sidles up to Drake, seeing how tense and distracted he looked.

“Is everything okay Drake? It's not like you and Kate to be apart like this.”

Avoiding eye contact, Drake looks out toward the sinking sun over the ocean. “Yes Nicholas, everything's fine.”

Nicholas turns to look out over the ocean as well. He leans against a post and folds his arms across his chest. “You know Drake after all these years you can't hide from me. I know when you're lying.”

Turning his head briefly to look at the profile of his longtime friend and then turning back to watch the sunset, Drake shrugs and finishes his beer. “So, what's it to you?”

Nicholas frowns, “What's it to me? It's everything to me if you and Kate aren't getting along Drake. I've put my future in your hands.”

Drake looks at him, his frown deepening to a scowl. “Your future? You mean Cordonia’s future right? Well what about mine and Kate's future huh? You've put a lot of pressure on our shoulders with this heir request of yours. Kate's pissed.”

Nicholas looks down, “I'm sorry Drake. But I love you both so much and there's nobody else I can trust with this responsibility.”

Drake scoffs at his response. “Oh come on Nicholas. You're a man. You can sire your own goddamn heir for Christ's sake. You're the fucking King of Cordonia. Leave the stuffy traditions and precedents behind and be the King you want to be.”

Nicholas sighs, “If only it were that easy Drake. I may be at the top of the food chain but I need the support of everyone below me in order to be a successful ruler. My Father's reign of tyranny may be over, but I'm still the product of it. I want this cursed family line to end with me, and even if it takes the next twenty years to erase the mark Constantine has left on this country I will leave it a better place for everyone.”

“Ok now you're making sense. You need to explain this to Kate, because when I tried to she didn't want to believe me.”

“I believed you Drake, but I just needed to hear it from him to really understand.” Kate answers quietly, causing them both to look over to her with surprise.

“Kate? Holy shit, how long have you been standing there? I mean..”

Drake walks over to her and pulls her in for a kiss on the cheek, “I'm so glad you could make it.”

Nicholas offers Kate a small smile, but then looks down at his feet when she doesn't immediately return it.

Kate looks from Drake to Nicholas, “If we're going to make this three way partnership work, because that's how I see this arrangement between us, we need clarity, trust and a commitment that I and my child are going to be safe and protected.”

Nicholas nods, “You have my word.”

“We need to sit down and discuss this further, informally and formally with legal counsel present.” Kate folds her arms and looks at them both sternly.

“Are we clear?”

Drake nods, swallowing hard. “Crystal clear.”

Nicholas nods again, his expression serious.

Kate sighs with relief, dispelling the heavy atmosphere with a smile and slipping her hand into Drake's “Ok good, now let's eat because this future Momma is starving.”