#guest muse -> owen strand

[drreporting]

Nuptials Pt.4

Tuesday Night (Later)

“Shh!” Amelia hissed as she, Addison and Charlotte entered the house, “If you wake up Rosie, you guys have to deal with her.”

“I am an awesome god mother,” Addison assured the Shepherd, stumbling over the door mat as they came inside.

“Of course you are,” Charlotte laughed as she held Addison’s hand to prevent her from tripping over anything else. The two LA women settled on the couch while Amelia went to the kitchen to go get a glass of water for Addison. By the time she returned to the living room, there was another knock at the door.

“Delivery for Amelia Shepherd,” Amelia heard from the other side of the door, recognising the voice as Alex’s, “A freshly initiated future husband!”

“Freshly initiated?” she asked once she opened the door. On the other side were Derek and Alex, who had Owen’s arms thrown over their shoulders, and it looked like they were the only reason why Owen was standing up at all.

“Yes,” Alex confirmed, grinning mischievously, “His body has been cleansed and purified with spirits and now he is ready to marry you.”

Amelia shook her head and smiled as she looked at her drunken fiancé. “You can put him on the couch.” Alex stumbled past her with Owen, Derek following close behind.

“And I’m going to assume you are also drunk?” she accused her brother as she followed the trio.

“De Luca is driving,” he confirmed, plopping down on the couch and briefly greeting Addison, only to realise she was fast asleep.

“I am,” Andrew confirmed as he came into the house. He sat next to Derek, leaving no space for Amelia to sit now.

“Come sit on my lap,” Owen flirted, patting his thigh, “I haven’t seen you allllll night.”

“How about I get you guys some water?” Amelia suggested instead, winking at him.

“Actually, we were about to leave,” Derek said, eyeing Alex and Andrew.

Getting the message, Alex commented, “Yeah, I have to get home before Jo’s shift starts.”

“And I have an early shift tomorrow,” Andrew also lied, standing up.

“We should also be heading in,” Charlotte added, catching on to what was going on, “Jake and Coop are coming in tomorrow.”

“Well, goodnight everyone,” Derek waved the ladies and Owen.

“Bye,” Amelia called, still in the kitchen. Once they’d left, and Addison and Charlotte ventured up to their guest bedroom, Owen slowly made his way into the kitchen.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Amelia teased, sensing his presence behind her.

“If you’re asking if I was forced to drink and get egged by the guys for being whipped by you,” Owen briefly described, “Then yes, I did have fun.” As he leaned against the table and watched her move around the kitchen, a question floated into his mind. “Hey, did you have strippers at your thing?”

Amelia laughed softly as she fetched the bread from the fridge, followed by cheese and mayo. “I did, actually.” When she saw his frown of disapproval, she got concerned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assured her, “It’s just that I owe Karev $500. I betted against you having strippers at your thing.”

“Were there strippers at your party?” she teased, cutting the crust off the bread.

“No,” he answered honestly, “Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but Karev seemed torn up about it.” He moved closer to her, standing behind her as he inhaled the scent of her hair. Lazily, he wrapped his arms around her waist as he watched her make the sandwich.

“What did they make you drink?” she inquired, able to clearly smell the alcohol still on his breath. One of his hands made its way to her ass, squeezing it eagerly.

“I don’t know, they didn’t tell me,” he replied, lowering his face to her ear so that he could kiss it. Amelia smiled and shied away from his ticklish touch, trying to focus on the task in front of her.

“There, done,” she said, turning around in his arms to hand the plate to him. Owen took the plate and set it to the side, before lifting her up onto the counter.

“Are you crazy?” she hissed at him, although there was a playful smile on her face.

“I’m drunk, actually,” he responded, not realising the question was rhetorical, “They won’t hear us.”

“I’m almost certain they will,” she giggled as his lips teased her neck, “You get pretty loud when you’re drunk.”

“I promise I’ll be quiet,” he assured her, already shrugging off his leather jacket, “You can stuff a cloth in my mouth.”

“I’m not going to stuff a cloth in your mouth!” she exclaimed as he already pulled his jersey over his head.

“You’ve done it before,” he teased, running his hands along the seam of her dress.

“Fine,” she relented, making it sound like it was a task, although he knew how completely off he was, “But you have to eat my sandwich, and bleach your mouth of all that alcohol.” He stopped, looking her in her eyes as he weighed his choices. “I’m not kissing you if you’re going to taste like a vodka factory,” she added.

“I know of plenty other things we can do that don’t require kissing,” he suggested. Before she could counter his argument, she felt his fingertips run up her thigh, lifting the dress to scrunch at her waist.

“You are not serious right now!” Amelia laughed as he kissed the inside of her upper thigh, beginning to draw circles with his tongue.

He paused, eyeing her directly. “Very serious.”

---

Amelia sighed as she drew shapes on his chest, her mind on so many things, yet nothing.

“Something wrong?” Owen asked, sensing her distress.

“Not really,” she answered, resting her hand flat on his chest now.

“Are you nervous about the wedding?” he asked, trying to fish for answers. He knew she’d never openly talk about what was bothering her, meaning he’d have to ask it out of her to find out what was going on inside her mind.

“Aren’t you?” she countered, resting her chin on his chest to look at him.

He smiled as he looked back at her; so it was the wedding that she was worried about. “I’m more nervous about meeting your family, your sisters specifically.”

“Thank you for increasing my anxiety,” she sarcastically said, lying beside him and staring up at the ceiling.

Owen propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her blue eyes, that were darting all over. “Hey, what’s really bothering you?” When she didn’t answer, he further questioned, “Are you having second thoughts or something?”

“No,” she replied, although it was partly a lie, “It’s just that...marriage is supposed to be forever.”

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” he agreed, not sure where she was going with this.

“Do you really believe that?” she wondered aloud, “That it’s forever? That we’ll last forever?”

Owen frowned. “I guess I have to believe it.” He moved a strand of hair out of her face as he asked, “Do you believe it?”

“I don’t know.” Her response hurt him.

Owen lay back down, staring at the ceiling now too. “Do you want to cancel the wedding, then?”

“What?” she exclaimed, sitting up as she held the blanket to her chest, “No!”

“Then what do you want?” he asked, sitting up too. She was being too confusing.

“I want you to tell me that we’re making the right choice!” she told him, frustrated and hurt that he would ever suggest such a thing like that, “That we’ll be happy and married forever, and we won’t get divorced or I won’t get hit by a bus or something.” Owen chuckled at her statement, infuriating her more. “It’s not funny!”

“You’re not gonna get hit by a bus, Amelia,” he continued to chuckle.

“You don’t know that!” she insisted, “Look at all the terrible things that happened to us before we were married.”

“I think only one seriously bad thing has happened,” he mused, “The drowning in the cold thing.”

“And the overdose thing,” she reminded him, “And your PTSD thing. Not to mention the unexpected baby thing.”

“You mean Rosie?” he sought to confirm, “The light of my life?” A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, begging to be seen.

“Amelia,” he sighed, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to him, “What do you want me to say? That we shouldn’t get married because we’re bad luck for each other?”

“I don’t know what I want you to say,” she honestly said, bringing a hand to his cheek, “I’m just scared.”

“I think that’s good,” he reassured her, “It means you have something to lose.” She didn’t seem very reassured, so he added, “I’m not marrying you just because we had an ‘oops’ baby.” She looked up at him, so much vulnerability in her eyes. “If I remember correctly, I proposed before you told me you were pregnant.”

“I think I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop,” she further explained herself, “I’ve never been happy for this long, without something horrible happening.”

Owen smiled and held her closer, slowly laying the both of them back down on the bed. “You’ll make yourself miserable thinking about ‘what ifs’.”

“I can’t help it,” she sighed, snuggling into his chest and closing her eyes, “I’m bad luck.”

“Perhaps,” he thought. He looked down at her and noticed that her eyes were closing, her eyelashes fluttering as she struggled to stay awake. Kissing her forehead, he played with her hair, knowing the action would calm her down and, eventually, put her to sleep. “But you’re the best kind of bad luck, in my opinion.”

“Wow, really,” she scoffed nonchalantly. Owen chuckled.