#hot tips coming fresh from a girl smelling her own hair after skiing all day

[pokytoad]

The smell of snow melting on your clothes is so EXTREMELY specific that I wanna describe it but I CAN'T. Its like.... metallic, but stale and watery? Like the exact opposite of blood metallic smell???

JUST SHARING CUZ yall are always writing abt how HWS R.ussia smells like snow and winter's frost n junk, my only association with snow is that weird white metallic smell that seeps into your clothes after too much time on the slopes. Like a ski lodge bro.

[nonsensicalobsessions]

A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 4

Today’s music program: https://youtu.be/_50DcN4RvDc to be followed by https://youtu.be/pZ3b1a2OnhQ (Author’s preferred arrangement) or conversely https://open.spotify.com/track/0iGFvoTYLKGfZstM4JH6yc?si=W5degmV0RQiX-ey0yIxtww and https://open.spotify.com/track/0Gr2XQOIMaaUH86iOrWGur?si=HZVwUORGRkKWgAZsn7JI0w

Trigger warning: Leukemia

                             *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Merry dreamed.

It was cold, and she was looking for the canteen where the extras could cadge a cup of coffee or tea to help stave off the bite of winter. When she signed up to audition for upcoming movie’s extras, she’d hoped for something...well, inside. She was thrilled to be selected for one of the actual speaking roles (all thirteen lines, thank you very much) but wasn’t prepared to be outside as much as she was. Still, the money was very appreciated.

“Oh, excuse me,” she apologized as she jostled someone that was in front of her that was trying to leave as she approached the table. Merry had been digging in her oversized shoulder bag and stumbled.

“No harm done,” a gentle voice replied. Merry looked up...and up.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned inwardly, as she watched the tall man in front of her wiping up some of the hot liquid she’d caused him to splash on himself. “You just bumped into one of the principals. Well done, Merry.”

Seeing the look of honest distress on her face, Tom smiled at her. “Truly, it’s not a problem, miss. With these large feet, I tend to trip over them often. You look badly over encumbered with that bag on your shoulder. May I help you get anything?”

Merry smiled back, then looked down and away, fiercely willing herself not to blush. “No, thank you. I’m just going to get a cup of hot water.”

“Hot water? Is that how college students get by these days?” Tom was incredulous. “Darling, even the extras are allowed coffee and tea, you must know that, right?”

“Oh, yes, I know.” Merry’s cheeks were pink from the cold air, and now ever pinker with embarrassment as she grabbed a cup and filled it with hot water and moved aside for the next person in line. “It’s just I prefer my own.” She showed Tom what she had retrieved from her bag: two packets of vanilla chai tea bags. She found a space on the table where she could place the tea bags in to begin steeping.

Tom’s smile became broader. “Well now. An American with a definite taste in tea. You don’t care for the Earl Grey offered then?”

Merry shook her head. “I’ve tried but just can’t seem to wrap my taste buds around it. It smells divine but the bergamot is so strong. But here I am babbling and I am sure you are very busy. Forgive me.” She tipped her head in a farewell, and walked away.

Tom watched her as she left, a bemused expression on his face.

Merry woke up, gasping for air and coughing, drenched in sweat.

Clara came in soon after, rubbing her eyes. “Doing alright there, Merry?”

“Yes, Clara...Sorry to...disturb you. Go back...to sleep.” 

Clara looked at her closer. “Aw, Merry, you’re covered in sweat, you’ve drenched the bed, you can’t sleep like that. Let me help you. I’ll change the sheets.”

“No, Clara,” Merry sighed, her voice almost breaking as she struggled to regain a normal breathing pattern. “I don’t want the sheets to be changed twice in one night. I’ll just move to the other side of the bed...”

“Merry, you need new night clothes, and it won’t take but a minute, stop being so stubborn...”

“Hey, is this a private party? Am I being excluded? So rude.”

Aiden had poked his head inside the door, having heard the voices. He slept as lightly as Clara these days where Merry was concerned.

“Good. Help me with this one, she needs the sheets changed and she’s being stubborn. I’ll help her change night clothes.”

“Oh, sweetie. Not another nosebleed?”

“No, just the sweats,” Clara briskly explained as she pulled out fresh clothing and Aiden retrieved the bed linens from the closet.

“I am...right here!” Merry wept, trembling in shame, rage, and weariness.

Aiden and Clara paused, then sighed as one.

Aiden was the first to reach her, and gathered her in his arms in a loving embrace.

“Yes, my friend, you are. I am sorry I made you feel overlooked. But you have to admit, you put a Missouri mule to shame. You are as hard headed as they come sometimes. Please let me show you how much I care about you by helping you be more comfortable. You know you would do it for me. If I was acting like you, you’d raise holy hell. You know you would.”

Merry rested her head on his shoulder. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.

“You do, Merry. I love you, girl. Now let Clara Barton over there do her thing, yeah?”

“It’s Clara Baker, ass,” Clara griped good-naturedly as she helped Merry to the ensuite for yet another sponge bath and fresh set of nightclothes.

Within ten minutes Merry was once again in bed, her eyes beginning to droop. She didn’t remember she was dreaming of her first meeting with Tom before she awoke, only that her dream was pleasant, and she vaguely hoped her remaining dreams would be as kind.

Clara and Aiden met outside her room.

Aiden fretted, “Clara, her night sweats are getting worse, she getting more fatigued, and then there was that nosebleed...she seems like she is getting worse. Is this a part of the trial, is she supposed to be getting worse before she gets better, or something?”

Clara’s expression was thunderous. “No. I want her home, Aiden.”

“Clara, I don’t think her coming here has anything to do with this.”

“It doesn’t matter. If the trial is failing she needs to be back at Sloan Kettering.”

“If the trial is failing, what does it matter?” Aiden’s eyes were filling with tears but his voice was steady. “This is important to her, Clara. I can’t stress how important. You’ve been with her for months. I’ve been with her for years. If...she is coming to her journey’s end, then let her get the closure she needs.”

“What she needs is to go back!”

“To what end? What rabbit can Dr. Roths pull out of his hat? If her body is rejecting the targeted therapy, then...”

Clara pushed past him. “Go back to bed, Liam, Aiden. Go back to bed.”

Tom returned to his home, but he didn’t get the sleep that Merry advised him. 

Instead, he had a rather contentious call with Luke, as he outlined his plans for how he wished to proceed with Merry and Liam. Despite Luke’s strong objections, Tom then researched various facilities in the London metropolis until he located several that would be able to provide the services he was looking for, providing he could talk Merry into cooperating. 

Then he spent a very long time sitting in front of his computer, learning everything he could about leukemia in general and Acute Leukocytic Leukemia in particular. 

What he read chilled him. From what little he understood about Merry’s condition, she never achieved remission for very long, which made her long term prognosis...very poor. He leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. No. He refused to accept this. He had no idea what trial she was involved in with Memorial Sloan Kettering, but he understood they were one of the premier cancer research hospitals in the world. Surely they could do something. Certainly they could work some miracle, find a scientific solution. 

Despite what Clara told him in the kitchen, Tom clung to what Merry told him (“My prognosis is 50-50. I am hopeful, but I have to be realistic...”). Merry had never lied to him before, and he prayed she hadn’t started to do so now.

Tom looked at the clock, and realized if he was to get any sleep at all, he needed to walk away from the glowing monitor and go to bed. He slammed the top of his laptop down with more force than necessary, and crawled into his bed.

Lying there in the dark, he closed his eyes, but still saw Liam’s smiling face before him, and Merry, both as she was when he left her a few hours ago, and a few years ago. He sighed, and fell into a deep sleep.

Tom dreamed.

He was back at the movie lot where he had first met Merry. God, no one had warned him that the weather could be just as cold, and just as damp, as Cambridge in February, or March...he was grateful that filming had stopped for the day. It was four o’clock, and it was already dark as the skies had been gloomy and overcast all day.

He had been looking around him all afternoon for the tiny redhead that he had seen at the canteen table. Where was she? He’d scoured the script, looking to see who and where she might be. He knew she was an extra, Tom always made a point to befriend everyone involved in the making of a film he was in, but today was the first day. And something about her unsettled him so much he didn’t get a chance to introduce himself before she walked away.

Shooting on the fringes of a college campus, Tom didn’t know if he would be able to find her easily. The students knew they were to respect the crew and give them space, but there were still a healthy amount of hangers on, eager to look and see what they could. Tom looked about and saw the closest building was the music department. It was an impressive edifice, with a glass dome at the center. He imagined it would let in a huge amount of light when the sun would show its face...he wondered what it looked like on the inside.

A soft brush touched his cheek. He looked up, and saw it was beginning to snow. He sighed. Just great. He wondered how it would impact the shooting schedule.

He was just turning to head back to his small suite secured for him at a local hotel when he spotted at the distance a tiny woman leaving the music building with something so large on her back it was almost a long as she was, carrying another large case in her hand...red hair spilling out from a knitted hat, and on her shoulder was the same huge bag his elusive chai drinker carried.

“Oh, courage, courage, courage, princes,” he murmured as he squared his shoulders, and walked to intercept her.

“Well, hello again,” he greeted her as their paths intersected.

She startled, obviously having been deep in thought. “Oh! Hello.” He saw her eyes dart around, “At least I didn’t cause you to spill anything on yourself this time.”

Tom thought her voice was soft, sweet, and utterly beguiling. “Please don’t worry about that. In a way, I’m glad it happened, because it gave me a chance to meet you.” He smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Tom Hiddleston.” Inwardly, he tensed, waiting for her reaction. She was calm enough earlier, but perhaps she was more aware of who he was now.

She wriggled about a bit to free her hand from her baggage. “Meredith Skye,” she replied. “Pleasure to meet you.” Then she removed her mittened hand, and readjusted her body again.

“Excuse me for saying, but you do seem to be carrying quite the load. May I be of any assistance?”

“No, I’m quite used to it, thank you. I’m heading home, and as it is starting to snow, it’s a fair bet I won’t be going anywhere for the rest of the night! Thank you just the same.”

“Oh.” Tom’s face fell.

“Is something wrong?”

“I was just wondering...if I could tempt you into coming with me for a cup of coffee, or tea. Perhaps I could convert you into Earl Grey, if I told you how to prepare it with some milk and sugar just so.”

Merry was shocked. Of course she knew who Tom was, everyone did, but she was determined to treat him like any other person she would meet, with courtesy, and respect. If he proved to be not worthy of that respect, then she would simply remove herself from his exalted presence. She simply didn’t have the time for inflated egos. But why on earth would he want to take her, of all people, out for a cup of coffee...or tea, for that matter?

But he was so gentle...and he asked so politely...

“That’s very kind of you,” she replied at last. “I would like that.”

They sat by the window and talked for hours. Tom learned that the monstrosity on her back was her cello, the suitcase in her hand was her violin. She quipped that she left her piano at home that day because her wagon needed a wheel replacement. She was as passionate about music as Tom was about language—in fact, Tom could see music was her language. She spoke of her desire to be a conductor, to take a piece of music and have all the instruments come and speak together with their own voices, singing the same song, but keeping their own integrity.

He could have listened for days. For once he wanted to be the listener, rather than the talker. As the snow piled up outside, he insisted on seeing her home, since the buses were not running and the walk was on the long side.  Merry was philosophical about it, saying the busses sometimes pulled up lame when it snowed at night, and seemed quite content to set upon the hike. Tom was quite out of breath when he reached her tiny end unit row house. He had not dressed for the weather or the walking.

But when he entered the house in his dream, it was no longer like their meeting from years ago. It was strange, Merry was already there, playing the piano, while Liam gleefully banged away on a drum set, proclaiming, “Percuss’n helps keep the rhythm, Mr. Hiddl’s’on!” Even as he was flailing away, he was curiously good at it...which is why Tom couldn’t stop smiling, and Merry only reprimanded Liam a handful of times.

“Liam, it isn’t about how hard you strike the drum, it’s about when, and where,” she patiently instructed him, as her fingers kept flying across the keyboard, weaving notes throughout Tom’s ears and heart. He could swear he could almost see them floating through the air, like a mist. “Remember, Liam. It isn’t about force. It is timing, and precision. Can you repeat that?”

“Timing, and persiss’n,” Liam solemnly parroted back to her.

“Close enough.” The smile Merry gave Liam was so loving and tender, it made Tom’s heart swell until he felt he could hardly breathe. While it was clearly maternal, he knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of her smile when it was filled with that amount of love. It was a feeling like nothing else.

“Tom, you might want to remember that too,” Merry’s voice was becoming less distinct, as everything became less clear, as the dream faded away...funny, he could still hear Liam’s drums, though...

...it was his alarm, and it wasn’t nearly as interesting as Liam’s beats.

Tom shuffled to the shower, and leaned his head under the gushing spray of hot water.

Please, may Merry agree to his plans.

Please, may Luke not toss a conniption fit.

And please, please, please, may the next few days go as smooth as china silk. He felt he had so much ground to cover, and he did not want to get caught in unexpected land mines.

Liam was awake and hungry.

After bathroom and getting dressed, he was more than ready for breakfast. He knew better than to whine or to badger anyone. That would put him in time out, and time out was nowhere Liam ever wanted to be. No toys, no books, no music, no fun!

Still...

He looked as Clara and Aiden set the table and counted the plates...one, two, three, four...five?

Mama walked slowly to the table. “Good morning, everyone. Good morning, my Liam. Where’s my hug?”

Liam ran to his mother, only to have Aiden collar him. “Whoa whoa there, cowboy. You know better than to run inside, for one thing, and you know you definitely can’t run into your mother like a mustang.”

“Wasn’t,” protested Liam. “I was going to slow down, honest. I don’t want to knock Mama over, never!”

As Merry saw his honest dismay and tears beginning to well in his eyes, she shook her head slightly at Aiden. She would not undercut his authority, but she would let him know discreetly when to let a matter slide, like now. “No harm is done, is there? And I dearly want my hug, Liam.” She sat in her chair and opened her arms wide, leaving space free for him to scramble up into her embrace and snuggle into her lap, his small arms wrapped securely around her, and her arms around him.

They did not hear Tom slip in along with breakfast being delivered, so they did not know he overheard Liam’s artless question, “Mama, will you ever get your hair back? I’ve never seen it. Did Papa see it?”

Merry cuddled Liam closely to the breast that did not have the ports, and laid her bare head against his warm and sweet smelling locks that were growing long enough to curl. “That’s a question, all right,” she evaded cheerfully. “Papa did indeed see my hair, because it was long ago, before I had to start taking the medicine that made it go away. I hope to have my hair back someday.”

“Do you miss it?”

Tom closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, and Aiden averted his gaze from Merry’s bald head. Both men remembered her long fiery curls, and although they would never admit it, they missed the sight of them. Merry’s hair was a perfect complement to her personality, Aiden missed the way it would seem to take on electricity and snap with life as she played. Tom remembered the way it seem to have a life of its own, a current that would move with her mood, to match the tides he would find reflected in her beautiful eyes...and he wouldn’t even being to think of what her curls looked like when they were spread out against a pillow as she slept, or she lay beneath him, or hovered above him...damn it, he was thinking about it anyway...

“I don’t think about it much,” Merry tickled Liam’s nose with hers.

“Mama?”

“Yes, Liam?”

“Why do we have five plates for breakfast? We never have visitors for breakfast.”

Merry looked up and saw Tom lounging against the wall, not wishing to intrude.

“I invited my friend Mr. Hiddleston,” and she gestured with her head. “You should go and tell him hello.”

Liam climbed off Merry’s lap and went to shake Tom’s hand again. “Good morning, Mr. Hiddl’s’on. Do you like pancakes? We always have pancakes. I love them!”

Tom shook Liam’s hand with appropriate respect, then replied, “Liam, I love pancakes more than peanut butter loves jelly.”

Liam’s eyes opened wide. “Whoa.” He wrinkled his forehead, obviously lost in thought, before he conceded, “That’s a lot.” He then turned to Merry and anxiously inquired, “Mama, do you think we’ll have enough?”

Merry’s laugh was genuine and rich. “I think we’ll be fine...but if not, I am happy to share mine.”

“Nothing doing,” scolded Clara immediately. “You need to eat. If we need more for hungry bellies, then we will get more sent from the kitchen.”

Tom sat across from Liam, and although the food on his plate was excellent, he felt his soul was fed to a greater degree as he observed and listened to the conversation that swirled around him. Plans for the day were made (Liam and Aiden were going to museums in the morning, returning for lunch, then a casual music lesson, a rest if need be, and then an outing to the park until supper), laughter and silliness, love and lessons in manners gently taught and reinforced, and then Aiden and Liam were off. Clara cleared the dishes, Merry rose and went to her room for her doses. 

“May I...” Tom hated to walk on eggshells, but also did not wish to overstep.

“Tom, you saw me barf blood and then remade the bed last night. You also made a baby with me. Yes, you may come in. In fact, as long as the door isn’t closed, you may always come in...and if the door is closed, just knock. Chances are it’s closed because of Liam.”

In the unfiltered daylight streaming in through the windows, Merry looked just as tired as she did the night before.

“Merry, did you get any rest at all?”

She shrugged as she unbuttoned her blouse and began her routine. “Look that bad, do I?”

Tom tried to back pedal, but she cut him off. “Tom, please don’t.”

He remained silent as she completed the process. “Are you going to become sleepy? Should I help you into bed?”

“No, I should be good for awhile. I was able to get to Luke’s office just fine yesterday. It’s the afternoon and evening doses that get me, because I just get more tired as the day goes on...” Box locked and blouse buttoned, she looked at Tom, unflinching. “I know we have a lot to talk about. Where would you like to sit, so we may begin?”

It was a beautiful day, but neither wanted to risk going outside. None of the windows opened, and there was no balcony or patio area, Tom could tell by the way Merry looked out she was chafing and feeling trapped, but it couldn’t be helped in their present location.

Which led to a perfect opening to what he hoped to accomplish.

They sat at the kitchen table facing each other as Tom opened his backpack. Merry sat back and sipped the smoothie that Clara had plunked unceremoniously in front of her. “I am not interested in your affairs,” she bluntly informed Tom, “but I am always going to be close by to make sure that Merry is getting everything she needs. Pay me no mind, because you can be damned sure I’m not paying you any mind.”

With that, she closed her door behind her.

“She’s certainly...”

“Single-minded,” Merry said wryly. “There is a lot going on with this therapeutic trial. I really threw a wrench into their protocol when I told them I was going on this little jaunt of mine. But in the end, they had no say in the matter. So, the heads dispatched Clara to come with. In fact, part of this suite and kitchen bill is being underwritten by Memorial Sloan Kettering—not all of it, mind you, but some. One of the muckety-mucks knows someone who knows someone...I don’t care. It’s keeping all of us comfortable, and within my budget. I’ve been able to work some, but not as much lately, obviously. I have medical insurance, thank God, but...”

Tom leaned forward. “Merry, I have a proposition, and I ask you to please hear me out before you dismiss it out of hand. Please?”

As Tom was leaning forward, Merry was still leaning back, a faint smile dancing across her face. Tom had clearly prepared for her opposition, as he had dressed carefully, remembering how she favored his wearing blue button down shirts with the sleeves partially rolled up, and dark slacks and his much loved grey boots. By heaven, he had even used the cologne she preferred. 

“Dressed for success, or were you dressed for war footing, Tom?” Merry murmured, her eyes twinkling.

“I’m certain I do not know what you are talking about,” Tom replied quietly, inwardly wincing. He wondered what gave him away. It must have been the cologne...? It couldn’t have been the shoes...

“Merry, how long were you planning on staying in London?”

“I can only stay a week, Tom. Honestly, that’s as long as I could get away with, considering the medications I had to carry, and...”

Tom forestalled her explanations with a raised hand. “So you have, six more days left?”

“Five. I needed a day to recover before I approached Luke.”

Tom bowed his head as he nodded stiffly. Damn, damn, so soon!

“No matter. What I wanted to offer you was simply another place to stay, one with more amenities as well as more security.”

“Oh, are you speaking of the hotel associated with Prosper?” Merry’s face looked politely engaged, but not particularly interested.

“No, actually, I am not speaking of a hotel at all, actually. I have some connections with a few ventures in the city that offer penthouse suites...” Tom saw Merry’s face flash in shock and then begin to close off in disapproval. He was losing her.

“Merry, you promised you’d listen,” he reminded her, trying to rein in his desperation. He could do this, he reminded himself. He watched her face carefully as she swallowed, and tipped her head grudgingly.

“These are all places, as I’ve said, I have connections with, and therefore would come at no cost to you. They are family friendly units, so they would be well suited for Liam. I would never place him in an environment that would make him, or you, unhappy. Nothing dangerous, or fragile. But unlike here, the windows open, Merry. There are balconies and patios so you can go outside on days such as today and get some fresh air and sunshine. All equipped with high safety glass. The views are spectacular, look...” Tom slid a brochure over to Merry. 

Merry did not touch it, or pick it up, but she did look, and Tom saw her eyes linger longingly on one of the photos that featured a balcony with a chaise. Then her eyes moved to the bedrooms, and she noted that the bedroom configuration would be the same as it was now, and the living areas would be larger.

“Security is incredibly tight. You would not have to worry about Aiden or Liam being harassed...”

“I don’t worry about that now,” she said mildly, as she picked up her glass to take another sip.

Tom sighed. “Merry...this leads to another point I wished to make. Luke has arranged for someone to come, at your convenience, to obtain the samples necessary for the paternity test, and have them performed as discreetly, and quickly, as possible. When would you like to have this done?”

Merry shocked him with her reply. “Is this afternoon too soon? Liam will be back here for lunch.”

Tom was rocked back, but he immediately shook his head. “No, no, that won’t be too soon. Please excuse me while I text Luke, just a moment.”

Luke, please arrange for the paternity test to take place at Merry’s rooms today at 1:00.

Today? Tom, are you mad? I can’t request less than a four hour appointment like this.

Thank you for understanding, Luke. I will make sure both Liam and I are ready at 1:00. I am relying on you to make this happen. Quickly, Luke.

I hate you. I really do. If you don’t hear back from me, assume everything is set up, and I am cursing your name.

Thank you, Luke. You’re the best.

Yes, I am, and I still hate you.

Tom looked up and smiled at Merry. “That should be taken care of, I think.”

She smiled in return, but he could see the lines of anxiety creasing around her eyes. “What is it, Merry? You look uneasy. Are you having second thoughts? Surely you don’t wish to—”

She shook her head, her face showing her utter revulsion at the idea. “Tom, now that I know you wish to be a part of Liam’s life—”

Tom interrupted her sharply. “Merry, I don’t wish to ‘be a part of his life,’ I wish to be Liam’s father. What’s more, I want to be his dad.”

Merry’s breath caught at the distinction. It became difficult for her to breathe with the great lump that was in her throat and the band that was around her chest, keeping her from drawing a full breath. All she could do was nod her head for a moment. Tom’s gaze was searing, his sharp blue eyes cutting through all of her facades and defenses, and she felt as though she was being razed. His stare missed nothing.

As much as she felt he was coldly assessing her, Tom was trying to learn what was giving her such obvious distress. Was it his statement declaring he was going to be intimately involved in Liam’s life? Certainly Merry must have known Tom would not acknowledge paternity and then simply watch his son from the sidelines. Tom had not had a close relationship with his own father growing up, and was determined to give his son better. Tom and Merry had compared childhood experiences many a time, with Merry wrapping her arms around Tom and running her hands through his hair as he talked...she must have had an idea when she approached him, there was no way she could not have understood...

“Darling, what is it? You look so distressed. I am sorry I interrupted you,” Tom apologized. He wished he could dispense with having a table between them, he wanted to put his arms around her, hold her and even gently rock her in his arms until whatever was paining her was gone. This distance, emotional and physical, was slowly driving him mad.

She struggled to take a deep breath, and took a swallow of her drink, draining the glass. “Tom. I understand that you wish to be...Liam’s Papa. That’s the term we’ve always used, you see. When he was much smaller, I read to him constantly, as you can imagine. Aiden read to him as well, of course, but when I was so ill, I would just have Liam stay with me and I would read until I couldn’t anymore...I felt it was the only thing I could do with my...our...son. Once after I finished reading him a story, he asked me, ‘Mama, where is my Papa?’ I realized many of the stories did use that terminology, as opposed to Mommy and Daddy, or Mom and Dad...so I didn’t correct him.”

Tom had been standing so he could lean over the table and point out various elements on the brochures, but upon hearing about Liam’s question, he sat down, feeling that his long legs would no longer support him.

“What did you tell him?” His voice was soft, almost plaintive like a child’s.

Merry leaned across the table and reached for his hand, and he gave her both with alacrity. Gripping them, with love in her eyes and her voice, she spoke with a lilt and rhythm in her voice, as though she was singing a lullaby, or telling a fairy tale.

“I explained to him that his Mama and Papa loved each other very much. His Papa worked, and still works, very hard, just as Mama used to do before she became sick. Because of Papa’s job, he has to move around very often, and never stays in one place for very long. Because of that, Mama and Papa lost each other. It didn’t mean they no longer cared, they simply became lost. At this point, Liam usually says, ‘That is very sad,’ and I agree with him. I explain that is why when it was time for Liam to be born, Mama didn’t know where Papa was, and she couldn’t find him to tell him.”

Tom sighed and closed his eyes. Merry continued, “I go on to tell him even though his Papa isn’t here, Aiden has always been there for him (Tom’s heart turned to ash as his stomach caught fire) and while he isn’t Liam’s Papa, Aiden has helped Mama take care of him. And one day, Mama will find Papa, who will be so very happy to see Liam, because he loves Liam so very much, even though he doesn’t know it yet.”

Merry gently squeezed his hands. Hers were so tiny in comparison to his, but he held no delusions, he knew full well how strong and competent they were, he had seen them just last night command the neck of a cello and the bow that flew across the strings, and once upon a time, across a violin and a piano. 

“Thank you for not making me into a villain that abandoned him,” Tom said at last.

“Tom, how could I? You did no such thing. If I truly wanted to, I could have found you long ere this.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Tom’s voice was a cry ripped from his heart. “Why did you wait so long, Merry? Why now?”

Her eyes dulled, even as she kept holding his hands. “I’m ashamed to give you the answer, but you deserve nothing less than full honesty. Tom, I was...scared. And stiff-necked. I wanted to come to you from a position of strength, I didn’t want it to seem like I was coming to you as weak, hat in my hand, asking you for anything. At first I thought, I will tell you once Liam is a year old. I have this wonderful job, I am a conductor, just like I always talked about. I am not asking you for a single damned thing. No one can say I am trying to trap you, break your stride...but then...I got sick. Right before Liam’s first birthday, I was diagnosed.”

Tom choked, “Merry...how, for one moment, for one second, could you think your Tom, the person you made Liam with, the person that told you over and over again how precious you were in his eyes, would give a fuck about what anyone else would say? How could you ever be scared of me, darling? What have I ever done to make you think these things?”

Merry sighed. “Tom. So much happened since you kissed me and walked out my door that morning...please, I beg of you, stop and think! We were together four months. That’s all! They were wonderful, magnificent, but it was only four months. We entered our relationship knowing it was all we were going to have, remember? We were going to have no strings to tie the other down. And after you left, think about all you accomplished since. Your career exploded. You became a huge star. Your photos were everywhere, and I tried very hard not to stalk you on the internet, and for the most part I succeeded, but...you were with very beautiful women, and...I didn’t want to get in the way of that, or be seen as the one dragging you down...”

“You believed all that shit? Merry! I can’t believe you...” Tom pulled his hands away from her and began to pace, agitated, pulling at his hair.

She continued, doggedly. “I kept telling myself, Merry, as soon as you’ve beaten this thing, then you can go to Tom, and he can’t, he won’t...think you are asking him for anything, and everything will be okay...but then I began to realize, after years had gone by, maybe I’m not going to beat this—”

“Do not say that.”

Merry picked her head up to stare at Tom, who interrupted her once more, this time his voice an icy cold snap. “Tom?”

“I never want to hear you say that. You are going to beat this, Liam is going to have both of his parents, you are going to live for a long time, you and I are going to watch him grow up together and be his Mama and Papa and then someday be Grandmama and Grandpapa, do you hear me?”

Merry’s heart started beating in a staccato rhythm. “Oh, Tom...” She stood, and tried to approach him, but her waved her off.

“Do not ‘Oh, Tom,’ me, I will not have it!”

Merry sighed, as she struggled to take a deep breath again. She did not expect this level of denial. She did not expect Tom to assume they would be raising Liam together. She definitely did not expect him to be so devastated she had not contacted him until now about Liam. 

She did not expect this conversation to bring her so much physical pain along with it. Even breathing...Keep it together, Merry, Liam needs this. Finish strong if nothing else. You need to tie up all the loose ends, and right now there are nothing but loose ends everywhere. Deep, slow breaths. This is your cadenza. You’ve got this.

“Tom. Setting the past aside. The reason I looked uneasy about the paternity test is simply this: once you have been established as the legal father, and signed the necessary papers to make this legally binding in the States, I will have to make sure once again that no one, and I mean no one, comes after you demanding child support, or anything else for the past, present, or future. I do not want it, I will not have it. I have my attorney at home and I have left very clear instructions about this, no matter what the future holds. Of course should I...no longer be Liam’s legal guardian, then the situation changes—”

“Hold up.” Tom literally held his hand up in the universal sign for “stop.”  “Are you telling me that you don’t believe I am going to help you support my son? Do you think for one moment I am going to stand by and watch you do everything while I do nothing...?!”

Merry took another deep breath. They were getting increasingly harder to manage. “I am saying that no one is to come after you with lawsuits, Tom! Why can’t you get it through your thick skull I am trying my damnedest to make everything as easy as possible for you? No lawsuits! No conditions! No embarrassing situations! No strings!..No...no...”

Tom barely managed to catch her as she fell.

Merry heard voices. Some were loud, some were soft. She didn’t care. She was so comfortable. Floating, it felt so good. It had been forever since she felt so warm, and safe. Mmm. Part of her wanted to giggle. Just snuggle in and stay where she was forever. 

Wait. This floaty feeling...God damn it, am I high? Did someone give me morphine again? Probably. Fuck.

But still...feels realllly good.

Who is that? What are they saying?

“Tom, you are going to have to put her down. Come on, just put her in bed.”

What? That’s Clara’s voice...is Tom...

“She is in bed.”

Ohhh, I know that voice. Tom is stubborn and not going to change his mind, Clara, you can just forget it. He won’t let me pay for dinner, he won’t let me stay up and study any longer, he insists the first chair flutist has a thing for me, and...

“Tom, she doesn’t have to be in your arms is all I’m saying. Just lay her down on the pillows.”

“It’s my fault...I’m the reason she got upset, I’m the reason she couldn’t catch her breath, I’m the reason she fainted... I am going to hold her until she wakes up. I want my face to be the first thing she sees, so if she wants to slap me, she doesn’t have to stretch.”

No wonder this feels so good, and yet so long ago...

“Yes, it is your fault. I told you not to do this. I told you leukemia hurts. I told you how important it is for her to stay calm. But no, you have to go and vent all your hurt little feelings on her anyway. So. Are you feeling better now? Was it worth it?  Why don’t you just go ahead and kill her and...”

“...stop it...”

Merry’s voice was barely audible, but stern. Volume doesn’t matter, but tone does. Any musician can tell you that.

Merry glared at Clara. “That is enough.”

Clara glared right back. “Merry, let’s review. In three days, you’ve had one very ugly nosebleed, and now you’ve had such a nasty case of air hunger and pain that you fainted and I couldn’t revive you right away. I gave you a bolus of morphine and you’re going to wear an oxygen cannula for awhile until I see your oxygen sats come up. So that’s two for three. What’s next? I’ve warned you and warned you but you just won’t listen and apparently neither will he. If you just want to ignore everything that you’ve worked so hard for, this trial, then...”

“I will listen, and I will make sure she does as well. From now on. You have my word.”

Merry was cognizant enough to hear how flat, how final, Tom’s voice was. She struggled to look up at him. The way he had her upper body cradled against his chest, it was difficult. But she could feel his resolution.

“No more arguing about what was. Just looking forward. I am going to do everything in my power to make sure that she, and Liam, have absolutely everything they need, everything they want, everything I can give them.”

Merry wanted to tell Tom to take all his everythings and stuff them, she and Liam didn’t need or want anything, but she was starting to float off again...no, wait, don’t I get a say in any of this...

Clara sighed. “She’s going to be in and out of it for awhile. She’s drifted back out again. Just let her rest and put her down, Tom. And I wouldn’t ask her any questions you don’t want the answers for, morphine tends to act as a truth serum for our Merry. Her filter is completely gone. And so help me Jesus, if you take advantage of that, I will throw you out on your ear, forever. Is that clear?”

“Crystal.”

“...you’re not going to let her go, are you?”

“Nope.”

Clara groaned and stomped softly out the room, leaving the door ajar.

Tom spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Merry. I wasn’t thinking. What’s more, I wasn’t listening, and for that alone I am deeply ashamed. You have been honest from the moment you reached out to me, and as much as it shakes me to my core, I realize you never had to contact me at all. I could have gone the whole of my days and never known about Liam. We promised each other ‘no strings,’ and we gave each other our farewells. And I know your heart, Merry. I know you would never do anything except from love.” He snuggled her body closer to his, her head resting against his chest as he leaned against the headboard, so her upper body could be propped up for better respiration. He had his own body almost twisted around hers, so he could hold her as close to him as possible. 

Watching her fade and fall before his eyes had snapped him back to his senses faster than any cue, any clapperboard, any curtain. He was almost too far away to keep her from striking her head as she fell, all because of his stupid self-absorbed behavior. He would kick himself from here to the Donmar if it would do her any good. 

Cuddling her closer, as he was now, reminded him of the many times he would curl around her in her small bed at school. He could have been stretched out in far more luxurious accommodations, but with far less comfort. How had he forgotten the peace that her presence brought him? They were only together four months, but they were the best four months he could ever recall having. Merry. Her love. Her music. Her heart. The magic that was just her.

He had railed against her last night, asking her, “Why did we ever agree to let each other go? How did I ever let you talk me into it?” But the truth of the matter was he knew there was no choice in the matter. Just as he had to continue in another location, Merry had to remain. Her talents had to be honed further, it would be criminal for her to stop so close to her goal. Her gifts, her potential, were too vast to be treated cavalierly. 

He should not have allowed her insecurities to dictate the end of their relationship. That was where the fault lay.

He knew she felt less than his costars. He couldn’t even get her to meet with them for a casual supper or drinks at a bar. Once her stint as an extra was over (a position she had taken as a lark, as well as for the much needed pay, like most students Merry was perpetually counting her pennies), she never came next to or near any of the cast or crew again. “It’s not my world,” was all she would say when he pressed her. When he would explain they were all human beings, just the same as the two of them, she set her bow down and sighed, “Tom. You and I are seated right next to each other, but darling man, we are in different worlds altogether, that have just collided for this brief moment...or a very unlikely duet. Can we just enjoy the song, please, and stop trying to add more instruments? The piece is going to end just the same.”

Like a fool, he had let her convince him.

Merry sighed in his arms.

“Darling?”

She didn’t answer, but she smiled.

“Merry, I am going to take care of you, and Liam. Will you please, please trust me enough to do this, without fighting me every step of the way? At least for as long as you are in London? Please, Merry.” He grew bold enough to lean over and kiss her forehead.

“All right, Tom.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You will? You’ll remember this? You won’t fuss later?”

Sleepily she replied, “I will remember, and I won’t fuss, but what did I just agree to?”

“I want to move us to the penthouse I showed you. Today. This afternoon. We will all be able to stay together, I will have a room of my own. Liam will be able to get to know me better, before we tell him. I can spend more time with him, both with you and Aiden, and maybe even a little just he and I...?”

She murmured, “That sounds reasonable.”

“Do you think, maybe...before you leave...my mother could come and see him? Not as his grandmother, that might be too much perhaps, but just...come to see him?”

Merry nodded. “As long as he is coping with everything, I don’t see why not...and of course she can always come and see us as well, once we are back in the States...”

Just the thought of Merry and Liam returning to the States without him made his stomach turn to fire again. But he wouldn’t broach that topic right now...the fact he was in between projects, he could return to the States with them, spend more time with his son, with Merry...take care of her, make sure she continued to recover...no, it was too early still.

Timing, and precision.

“Merry?”

She didn’t respond, just snuggled closer to him. She must have fallen back asleep again.

He leaned over and whispered in her ear, so softly, so intimately, that he could barely hear it himself.

Merry was so warm, and comfortable, no pain, or at least very little. Breathing came easily, even if the air smelled a little funny, and was cold...

“Merry, I’ve never stopped loving you.”

Oh, such nice dreams morphine brought.

If only this one was true. 

Because God knows she never stopped loving Thomas William Hiddleston.

But knowing that Liam was going to be taken care of gave her that last elusive bit of peace she needed.

She was so tired, all the time. Maybe she could rest.

TAGGING: Lifetime Memberships @hopelessromanticspoonie​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @winterisakiller​ @theheartofpenelope​

Symphony Season Ticket Holders: @jessiejunebug​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @scorpionchild81​ @tinchentitri​  @theoneanna​ @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi​ @blacksuitofdoom​ @mishaandthebrits​ @wegingerangelica​

[petri808]

Can you write how you think Natsu and Lucy's first day would go? 😣😣

Sorry it took a while to write something. Not everything goes smoothly lol.  I hope you like the Drabble :)  

Tied to day 3 orange prompt as well @fortheloveofnaluevents

Nothing’s Perfect

‘I can do this... I can do this...  I...’  “I-I can’t do it!”  Natsu turns back to the table where he and Gray had been sitting.  He sits down, holding his head in his hands.  “I can’t, I’m too nervous.”

“I don’t see why,” Gray quips back, “it’s just Lucy.”

Natsu slams his fist on the table “Exactly!”  Several members turn to see where the noise came from and he scrunches back in his seat mumbling.  “It’s weird to ask her.”

But Gray just laughs at him. “End of the worlds coming and you get all fired up.  Ask Lucy out on a date, and you crumble!”  

“Fuck you!”

“Tch.  Just get it over with and ask her out already. Natsu,” the ice mage leans over the table, “she knows exactly what you’re like.”  He sits back with a smug look.  “Just lay yourself bare, so to speak.”

“What the fuck?!  You want me to strip?!”

“Idiot!  It just means be yourself, show the real you, don’t hide anything.”

“Oh.”

“Think of it like any other mission.  Your objective is to ask Lucy out on a date.”

“And then what?”

Gray rolls his eyes, “seriously?!  When she says yes, you take her out on a real date!”

“Oh, right...”  Natsu chuckles and runs his hand nervously through his hair.  Not that he really knew what he was supposed do on this date.  

“Will you just go and ask her already?!”

“Okay, Okay!” The slayer gets up, muttering under his breath about a meddling ice freak.  When he gets to the table where Lucy is sitting with a couple of the females of Fairy Tail, Natsu taps on her shoulder.  

“Oh, hey Natsu,” Lucy smiles at her partner, “did you need something?”

A blush explodes onto his cheeks, “I-I was wondering if...”  ‘AHHHH THIS IS HARD!’  “...you’d go out on a, um, d-date with me.”

“I’m sorry,” she blinks, “did you say date?”

Levy snickers, “he did.”

Cana grins, “he su—re did!”

“I did,” he cups the back of his neck, “y-you know... I don’t know, like dinner or something.”

“Oh... you really did just ask me out.”  The realization hits Lucy like a ton of bricks.  “I’m sorry, I’m just a little surprised.  Um, yeah, sure,” she smiles, “I wouldn’t mind going on a date with you.”

“Really!  Okay, how about tomorrow night?  I can meet you at your apartment.”

She nods as her cheeks flush a little, “6?”

“6 it is!”  Natsu turns tail and struts away.  It was all an act.  He was on cloud nine but if he stopped to think about anything now, he’d probably faint.  Gray gives him the thumbs up as he walks past their table towards the front door, but he needed fresh air!

Back at the girls table, a giggle fest has taken over with Cana and Levy both teasing and congratulating the blonde.  “And you thought he’d never make a move,” Cana sips her beer.  

“I thought it was sweet,” Levy retorts.  “The poor boy looked so nervous I’m surprised he made it through the question!”

Lucy sighs and props her head on the table, “I wonder if he even knows what a date is?”

After enduring even more humiliation from Mira’s oohing, awing, and light teasing, Natsu thought he had everything planned to where even he couldn’t mess things up.  Keep it simple, was her biggest piece of advice. He knew Lucy better than anyone else, her likes, dislikes, so it all came down to the execution.  When 6pm rolled around, Natsu knocked on Lucy’s door holding a bouquet of pink roses.  He’d been advised that red may have been more appropriate but decided to go with her favorite color instead.

He hears a stumbling sound from inside the apartment, things being tossed, rushing feet.  “Are you okay Lucy?”  

“Y-Yeah, I’ll be right, oww, damn it, I’ll be right out Natsu.”

When she opens the door a few moments later, Lucy is still adjusting her clothes, and slipping on her heels.  Natsu chuckles, “are you sure you’re okay Lucy?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she waves her hand nonchalantly trying to act like she wasn’t a hot mess at the moment.  Truth be told, it had taken her all afternoon to decide on an outfit.  Re-did her hair and makeup a couple of times before giving up on said makeup and just leaving her hair down.  She broke her first pair of heels, that was the stumbling ‘oww’ he had heard, and to top it all off, it was the only one that really matched her outfit.  “You look really nice Natsu,” a light blush filtering along her cheeks.  He’d really gone all out tonight in one of his button-down, off-white collared shirts and beige slacks.

“You look beautiful too Lucy,” his own blush appearing, “here,” he juts the bouquet out at her, “I-I got you flowers.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” she giggles, “Lemme put this in water before we go.”  It takes just a couple of minutes till she’s back at her door, closing, and locking it behind her.  

Natsu holds out his hand tentatively, “ready for dinner?”  

Lucy takes it and nods, relishing in the warmth he exuded, but it also made her more nervous.  It wasn’t like this was the first time she’d held his hand, and yet it was worlds apart from the others.  They walked along the canal in a companionable silence, just a young couple, too wrapped up in their anxieties over the whole affair.  

“About time!”

They turn and see the boaters in the canal giving them a thumbs up.  Those guys always gave her grief!

“Sorry ‘bout that Natsu, you know they always tease…”  

“Don’t apologize,” he mumbles, “they’re right, I should’a done this a long time ago.”

She pulls him to a halt, “what matters is you did it when I was ready.”  Lucy blushes, “I mean, yeah I liked you for a while, but I would have been too nervous if you’d asked me before the Quest.”

“Oh, thank the stars,” he breathes out, “I wondered if you actually liked me liked me or was just humoring me on this date.”

Lucy laughs, “no… I Iike you Natsu.”

He squeezes her hand, “we should hurry.  I made reservations at that new restaurant Aomatsu cause everyone said their katsudon is the best in town.”

Well what was she expecting, Lucy thought to herself as she nibbled at her one plate while watching Natsu gobbling up his fourth.  He always ate like it was the best tasting thing in the world or the last meal of his life.  Of course, considering this was an ‘official’ date, he could have tried to be a little less sloppy.  Surrounding tables kept side-eyeing the couple, probably wondering why any woman would put up with such a messy guy.  But Lucy had grown so accustomed to Natsu’s eating habits she merely smiled, shrugged, and ignored them.  She loved him, flaws and all.    

“You gonna finish that?” he points to her half-eaten cake.  When she shakes her head and chuckles, Natsu happily accepts the plate.

Yeah….  She could consider herself ‘Lucky Lucy’ after all. How many people are blessed to have found not only a best friend, but the love of their life rolled into one person? Someone who never judged, always supported, and stayed true to their partnership.  The bottom line was, she could always count on Natsu.  

As he wiped his hands with the napkin, Natsu tips his head, “do I have something on my face?  You’ve been sitting there just staring at me while I ate.”

She keeps her head propped with her hand, shaking it, “just waiting for you to finish.”

“Aww man, I’m sorry,” he finishes wiping up, “I didn’t realize….  Am I ruining the moment?”

“No, no,” Lucy chuckles, her smiling eyes crinkling at the corners, “I don’t mind.”

“Whew!  Okay well I think you’ll like what I got planned next, so lemme just settle the bill.”

They head back in the direction of Lucy’s apartment hand in hand.  When they’re only about a block away, Natsu stops.  He explains of wanting to surprise her and asks that she get on his back in a piggy-back style while closing her eyes.  “No peaking,” he reminds.  

“I won’t.”  Lucy can feel him walking but has no idea of the direction.  Based on the faint smell of brine, she assumed they were still walking along the canal.  A short distance later, the feeling of climbing a flight of stairs.  She hears him open a door before walking a few more feet.

He puts her down, still keeping his hands on her shoulders, “okay you can open your eyes now.”

Her heart flutters at the sight!  They were only on top of her apartment building, but Natsu had set up a furry rug, a couple of pillows, and candles scattered around.  In one a smooth stream of fire he lights them all, then plops onto the rug holding out a hand to her, “join me,” he smiles.

Lucy giggles and sits beside him.  “Thank you Natsu, this is a really sweet end to our dinner date.”

“I’m glad you think so,” he scratches his head, “I thought it was a bit simple, but Mira said you’d like it.”

It wasn’t a surprise that the bar maid had a hand in this.  Lucy leans on Natsu’s shoulder, “Mira was right.”  

After a while, they go from sitting to lying down, making a small bet of who would see a shooting star first.  They chat about little things or simply lets a companionable silence fall over them. It was nice after all, just relaxing together, something rare between them.

A slight breeze picks up, and Natsu’s nose catches an upswing of moisture in the air.  In front of them there was nothing but clear, starry skies, but when he looks behind, the skies had grown menacing.  Natsu gets them to their feet and they start bundling up the rug and pillows.  It was too late.  Another stronger gust and suddenly a deluge of rain strikes.  He quickly grabs the rug and hauls it over their head as a makeshift umbrella, but being made of fabric, the soaked material quickly becomes inundated.

Natsu uses his magic to heat the fabric to a point before it would catch fire.  Steaming off the water as quickly as it tries to soak in.  Lucy clings to his body to stay warm.  

“I’m sorry Lucy, this wasn’t the ending I’d planned for.”

“Oh Natsu, it’s not like you couldn’t have predicted rain.”

“But now the date is ruined.”

She wraps an arm around his neck, while the other hand gently settles on his cheek, “I wouldn’t say that. It makes our first date memorable.”

He pouts, “I was hoping to get something right for once.”

Standing on her tip-toes, Lucy places a soft, exploratory kiss on his lips.  It takes a second to register, but Natsu lets the rug fall, answering her kiss with more of his own.  And as the rain falls around them, with only the rug balanced over their heads, steam wasn’t the only thing being generated on that roof top…  

[goldishlock]

Emerald Seas Chapter 6 (Pirates of the Caribbean Fanfiction)

Seven years later

Katherina lifted herself from her bed, as her maid just left she smelled the fresh air entering her sleeping chambers. The white curtains by the open windows waved graciously in the warm breeze, mixing in with the sound of the palm trees going back and forth in the wind. It was a beautiful day, already very hot as the sun started rising upon the blue Caribbean skies.

It was very early in the morning, Katherina had woken up with a scream, her maid Josephine had stormed into her room without asking permission, thinking she was being kidnapped of some sort. But everything was well, she had assured her. For it was only a nightmare. The same one who had haunted her for years.

Waves crashing upon a misty dark ship, walking over the deck, suddenly turning red underneath her bare feet. Hearing someone scream, screams that turned weaker and weaker, ending in only hearing a soft heartbeat. While moving closer a face of a young man covered in blood was getting clearer, but fading soon again, and every nightmare the face became vaguer. Like the person was fading from her memory.

Katherina sighed and wondered when the nightmares would end, if they ever would. She made way to the room located next to her private chambers and dropped her nightgown from her slender figure onto the wooden floor, her feet stepping out of it slowly reaching for the bath that was filled a few moments earlier. Her thin fingers reached for the water and she made the tips of her fingers flow upon it. Just the right temperature. When in the bath knee high into the water she dropped down gracefully.

Washing away all the tension from her body and mind. Feeling more relaxed already. Her face was half into the water, her lips playing with the small waves of movement. Her red hair darkening when getting wet. She crossed her arms over her chest and got lost in her thoughts. Thinking about what must have been the hundred time she had this dream. But this time there had been something different. The face had vanished more and more with every dream. But not this time. She, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, had seen the eyes of the face crystal clear this night. Ice blue-grayish eyes gazing into hers.

Awaking from her now daydreaming, she moved the water making it spill over the edge a little. She turned her arms away from her chest and made her whole body and head dip underneath the water. After exiting the bath and getting herself dry she moved to the bedroom again. Since it's still so early in the morning she decided to take a simple morning gown over her undergown. She tied her hair, almost completely dried from the heat, with a silk ribbon together so her long golden curls rolled down her shoulder.

She made her way down the long stairs covered in red carpet which always felt so soft and pleasant underneath her bare feet. Something her father had remarked more than a dozen times, how a lady like her should not walk around barefoot. That and not wearing a corset made her mornings feel a lot less formal, as she had to walk around in heels mostly for the rest of the day. Not that she hated that, she was used to the attire and loved it most of the time, but she wished there were some more days, like on the seas, when she would be able to wear something more light.

Even the servants were still making themselves ready for the day. That's why she liked being awake so early, the silence in the mansion with the sounds of nature walking past the open windows made this the only minutes of the day she had truly for herself. Entering the dining room she opened the two doors carefully, trying not to make any noise, but the cracking of the wood was unavoidable. She grinned when seeing a teapot and a single porcelain teacup waiting in the middle of the table. It was one of the servants that was aware of her early mornings and wanted to make sure she had at least a hot cup of tea every time.

An hour passed and while turning her teacup between her hands she heard the creaking of the wooden doors when her father appeared from behind them. He was wearing a smile on his face that wrinkled the side of his mouth. Wearing his brown wig she was amazed by how he managed to do this every morning, considering she was the woman of the two, he always looked ready for any formal occasion. But he was still in his morning robe as well. She gave him a warm smile and he kissed her forehead passing her, sitting down on the chair opposite of her. The many rings on his fingers gleamed in the sunlight, and she noticed he was holding a newspaper tightly. He unfolded it onto the large wooden table and pointed his finger to an article with a big headline in elegant letters.

'The East India Trading Company finally has a new Director' Lord Florence's winded eyes didn't leave the headlines and his finger pressed hard against the paper so the tops turned white.

'It was about time, the last Governor of the Company was tiring everyone with no actions on that what matters the most nowadays!' He almost sounded angry, like the man had done to him something personally.

'Now we have a fresh young face that can only help the new world even further. And he'll even move to the Caribbean. Something the old Director should have done long ago. Smart move if you'd ask me' Lord Florence released his fingers from the newspaper and looked at Kate for the first time, still holding the teacup between her hands, staring outside into the gardens, she clearly wasn't just as ecstatic as her father.

'Katherina, are you listening? Do you know what this means?' her father lifted the news article and placed it directly in front of her on the table. She already knew what he meant. This was going to be one of the suitors he was so desperate to find for her. Now that she was a grown woman, and not the girl she used to be, she had already told him a dozen times, the time will come when she'll pick one. Kate was at an age that it was expected of her to be married and have children already. But she tried to postpone it as long as possible since she still did not feel any spark with the many men her father had introduced her. The countless balls they attended she always managed to slip away from his mission and be with her friends and socialize with the people she liked. There was a spark, once. But she'd never mentioned that anymore, she fought for it once, but in vain.

'You know the man Katherina' her father's eyes hooked onto hers to see her reaction. She was blessed to not be forced into marriage yet, only thanks to the position they were in, but time was running out. But Kate didn't want to discuss this again, she couldn't care less about who this man was, for he was going to be the same as any of the other men, only wanting her for her wealth, title, and beauty.

She was a lady ahead of her time and interested in everything business wise, learning a lot from her father. Most of the time she knew everything that was going in the world. But when her father had started to push her even more into the direction of marrying she stopped following what was going on with men getting higher up in ranks and the titles that were given from the King himself. Only to save herself from the information she knew about these men, prior to meeting them.

'No father stop this! We have been down this path and it must stop' she squeezed the newspaper into her hands and made it into a ball without looking at the article what so ever. She stood straight from her chair and threw the paper ball into the fireplace.

'But Katherina, you will like him, trust me' Lord Florence stood as well and took her wrist caring so she won't run out of the dining room.

'I've had enough of it. I've heard you say this a thousand times father!' annoyence filled her voice.

'Give me one last chance Katherina. I will show you I'm right' he spoke like he wanted to make it up to her and moved his arms around her holding her in his loving embrace.

'Only if you promise me this is the last time and after that leaving me to sail my own course' Kate looked up to her father's tall body, hoping this will be the very last time, and if it was, then this would be a good deal.

'You have yourself a deal' her father spoke grinning at her. Kate kept a straight face and moved her head onto her father's chest.

'Tomorrow we will attend his ceremony, after that there shall be a ball' Kate moved her head from his chest.

'A ball, well at least the evening will bring some excitement' Kate spoke with a rather sarcastic tone.

'This day and your meeting will be very exciting, I assure you my dear' Lord Florence looked at her releasing him and making her way to the doors. She turned around before leaving.

'This man must be quite something, you seem so certain' Kate whispered, already mocking his lost deal. Lord Florence's mouth curled into a smirk.

'Just wait and see my dear'

[sunshinehighway]

wouldn’t it be nice if we were older

(ao3)

Aaron's lips taste of salt, whether that’s from the chips he’d just devoured or Robert’s own tears he hasn’t figured out yet. The only thing he knows is that he wants to savour the taste, forever.

But that’s not how things go for Robert is it? Nothing in his life has even been forever. Not Pat, not Sarah, and now not Aaron.

They’re sat on the cliffside overlooking the beach. Their beach

They agreed to meet down here at sunset; have one last goodbye, Aaron had said. The skies a brave pink and there’s only the two of them in sight, the holiday park that changed Robert’s life just a mere few meters behind them,

It’s picturesque really.

Except it’s not because Robert’s eyes are stinging with unshed tears and Aaron’s hand is growing clammy in his own.

It’s been a whirlwind of a week, a holiday romance some may call it.

But it feels like so much more than that, it feels like soulmate.

---

Day one:

Robert was looking forward to his summer, having just turned 17, with a new sense of freedom inspiring him, he'd made enough plans with his friends to last them a lifetime of summer holidays. Road trips, booze, girls, boys, fun. In that order.

But when he’d arrived home after his last day at college to find his Dad waiting for him at the foot of his room, his plans changed.

Nothing good ever came of a parental figure leaning against the doorframe to their son’s bedroom, Robert decided.

Because apparently Robert wasn’t allowed to have fun. No, instead he had to spend the next week cooped up in a dingy little caravan down in Croyde Bay.

With his insufferable family.

The caravan itself had definitely seen better days, and Robert might need someone to pinch him, because he seriously can’t believe he’s missing his first lads holiday - if you could class camping as a holiday - for this. The terrible paint job has chipped all over, and there are cracked glass panes in the windows, broken by unruly tree branches.

“Andy! Robert! Come and look! It’s so lovely!” Victoria had beckoned them from the wooden terrace.

And even Robert couldn’t deny the view; depths of crystal clear sea and miles of rolling sands greeted him, while the burning sun soaked through his bones, leaving his body tingling with anticipation.

Maybe, just maybe, this holiday would be slightly bearable after all.

---

In the 24 hours notice he’d been given, Robert had devised a plan: he’d packed a couple of his favourite books, his Gameboy and a bottle of vodka - with the idea of hiding away in his room every night. While his family did, well, whatever it was people did for fun around here.

But he’d crashed at hurdle one - considering he was currently sat in the park's clubhouse, suffering second-hand embarrassment from the entertainment act - who was only entertaining for all the wrong reasons.

“Daddy! Daddy! Can I go to the arcade with my new friend, please?” Victoria whined, having exited the dancefloor with a plastic medal and a face covered in the sticky remains of pink candyfloss.

“No darling, it’s time to calm down now, don’t you think?” Jack protested.

“But Daddy! Her names Belle and she’s really nice. Please Daddy,” and even the coldest of people couldn’t say no to that toothy grin.

“Fine, but only if your Brother goes with you.”

And to say Robert leapt out of his seat is a slight exaggeration, but he’d rather done anything than listen to his Dad and Andy’s brain-numbing farm chatter.

---

“You on babysitting duty too?” A voice appeared behind him, and Robert instantly recognised the boy as the pretty fit one from the rowdy table in the corner.

“Well, believe it or not, I’m not here for the fun of it. How old do you think I am, five?” Robert snapped.

“Alright, no need to bite my head off”. Aaron muttered, and then, “Twat.”

“Sorry. Sorry, I’m just -”

“Insanely bored?”

“Yeah, yeah definitely bored, and a little insane come to think of it,” Robert said on a laugh. “Is that your sister then?”

“Uh no, my cousin. Sort of.” Aaron stated, and Robert figured it was probably easier not to ask.

“Challenge you to a game of Pacman” Robert suggested, praying that Aaron wouldn’t just laugh in his face for sounding so lame.

Luckily for Robert, Aaron seemed to be just as big of a gaming nerd as himself. And so they spent the next hour competing and bickering and laughing. Robert’s stomach hurt - in the best way - because Aaron laugh was infectious wasn’t it? As if little butterflies lived in his mouth, fluttering out carrying smiles on their wings and settling calmly on own Robert’s own tongue.

“You wanna get out of here?” Robert suggested.

“Aren’t we supposed to be keeping an eye on the girls?”

“Mate I haven’t seen them for about an hour, so we’re doing a pretty shit job anyway.”

“Fair point. Well, what are we waiting for then?” Aaron said, a look on his face which suggested he was about to get up to no good. Robert’s suspicions were confirmed when he watched Aaron jump over the unattended bar, swiping a couple of ciders.

And God, Robert loves a bad boy.

---

Once they made their way under the dark skies they chatted aimlessly about everything and nothing all at once.

Robert learnt that Aaron was here with a whole village of people, and just like himself, he did not at all desire to be. He learnt that Aaron likes cars, again, just like Robert. He learnt that Aarons funny, and kind, and looks sexy when he bites his lip. Which he does a lot - a nervous habit apparently. And Robert, well he takes pride in the fact he makes Aaron nervous. But considering there were butterflies wreaking havoc in his own stomach, he didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

Robert feels like they are balancing on the edges of a campfire. There is something between them that he can’t distinguish, something that he’s not sure he wants to distinguish. It was hot and fierce; it kept licking his skin tauntingly, warningly.

Robert knows he likes boys, boys and girls, he was sure of that. He’d tried to convince himself otherwise - tried for his Dad, for his pride, and for his place in the family - but there was no denying it. Especially not with Aaron stood before him, looking like that.

“Won’t your parents be wondering where you are?” Aaron questions innocently.

“My Dad? Nah I doubt it. He’s probably glad I’m not bothering him.”

“I’m sure that’s not true”

And Robert scoffs, but then he strokes his fingers over Aaron’s arm, he doesn’t want thoughts of his Dad to ruin this thing he’s got going on with Aaron. Robert can’t explain it, can’t explain why, but he trusts Aaron, has this sudden urge to open up to him.

“My Dad hates me. He thinks I’m this big family disappointment.”

Aaron moves his hand then, brings Robert’s own hand down from where it was resting on Aaron’s shoulder, tangles their fingers together and looks up to the sky.

“Well I think you’re pretty amazing”

“Oh really?” Robert teases, “Y’know what I think?”

“What?” Aaron questions, drags his eyes away from the sky and puts all of his attention on Robert.

The moon painted a soft strip of light on the angle of Aaron’s jaw and the tip of his nose. His lips, which were slightly parted, were cast in an ivory veil around the very edges. His eyelashes were a convex of fine strands that had a beautiful glow surrounding them. His eyes reminded him of the stars reflecting in the sea.

Robert takes a deep breath and, “I think I wanna kiss you”

Suddenly he feels like he’s on some stage - as if someone is directing them to perfection. There’s a soft gasp before contact, and Robert isn’t sure if it comes from him or from Aaron. All he knows is that one minute they’re leaning into a kiss and the next minute he’s snapped out of his journey to Aaron’s lips by the harsh sound of a gruff voice bellowing his name - his Dad demanding his attention.

And Robert’s about duck, only Aaron’s tugging at his hand, pulling him around the back of the clubhouse, shoving him against the wall.

Before Robert has a chance to register his surroundings a pair of lips are on his. The sea seemed to quiet around them; everything seemed to settle into a state of awe. A pair of thin lips move against his raw ones, so gentle. Robert can feel the force building behind the kiss, the soft sponging turning into the prizing of Robert’s lips open, and the sweeping of a wet tongue upon his. Aaron’s tongue palmed against his and his head twisted, the kiss deepening. Robert’s tongue traced the back of Aaron’s front teeth; he could taste the sweet tang of cheap cider and fresh mint. Aaron’s hand cradles the back of Robert’s head while his fingers thread through the silky strands. He would have been annoyed that Aaron was messing up his perfectly styled hair but Aaron’s tongue was in his mouth and that was enough of a distraction.

There was the night. There were the stars. There was the sea. There was Aaron. And then there was Robert’s new found happiness, too.

---

Day two:

Robert wakes the next morning to the sun for the first time in forever, forgets for a second that he’s still in England - it feels like some miracle. The strong morning beams are flooding through the thin curtains and spilling all over the bedroom floor, bright rays like liquid gold.

It takes a minute for Robert’s memory to catch up with him, his mind still foggy with sleep; still in that bliss state of calm - usually before your clogs start turning and you remember you hate your life. Except this time, for the first time in his life, Robert wills himself to remember. To remember the musky smell of Aaron, to remember the feel of his chapped lips, to remember the sweet taste of his mouth.

To remember Aaron’s damn caravan number.

He comes up short; bloody idiot he thinks to himself, until he remembers the feel of Aaron slipping something into his back pocket last night.

A phone number.

He wastes no time in letting Aaron knows he’s found it.

Robert: What you up to later?

Aaron: Who’s this?

Robert: Unless you leave a copy of your number in everyone back pocket, I think you know exactly who this is.

Aaron: Idiot

Aaron: We’re having a pool day, not feeling it though. You fancy a wander around the village?

Robert: You bet. Meet you at the clubhouse at 11? x

Aaron: It’s a date ;)

And fuck, Robert thinks.

Robert takes his time getting ready. He showers more thoroughly than he has in his life, he brushes, flosses, mouthwashes, does it all over again just to be sure - drowns himself in aftershave and spends an age styling his hair just right. He briefly wonders what Aarons wearing, hopes the hot sun has urged him to unwrap his strong arms from the tight material that was covering them last night. But imagination can only supplant Robert's curiosity for so long - he scoffs down his breakfast and makes a futile attempt at conversation. But andy’s on his case again, teasing Robert - pushing him - wanting a reaction - droning on about this being a family holiday. Apparently Robert isn’t allowed a life of his own.

He tells them he’s going out. Won’t take no for an answer.

“Aaron? And who the bloody hell is Aaron?” Jacks shouting, and honestly, Robert just wishes he’d learn how to talk without waking the whole damn park.

“He’s a mate. Vic’s friend's cousin, or whatever. He wants to show me around.”

“No.”

“No? This is my holiday too you know - I’m not just here to babysit!”

“Fine. Whatever. Do as you please Robert, as usual.”

And Robert would usually stay and argue his point, but it’s not worth it. Not when Aarons waiting for him.

---

They spend the day exploring, the unspoilt village is steeped in old-world charm and friendliness - he feels accepted here, they both do, content and at peace. Which is why Robert doesn't pull away when Aaron pries Robert’s hand open with his fingers, instead he welcomes it, ecloses their hands as one. They move through the streets together as the sun moves through the sky, and Robert thinks that his heart might be shining up there with it.

They grab an ice cream on the way back - Aaron choosing Vanilla, because he’s that classy, unlike Robert, who was much happier with his triple chocolate. No matter how much of a state he got himself into, half the contents in the cone slipping through and staining his white t-shirt.

Neither of them wants the day to come to an end. Not ever. But it seems like Aarons not going to dwell on that just yet - since he’s dragging Robert along to his special place.

It doesn’t take long before Robert is regretting indulging Aaron. They’ve been walking for what feels like hours - and they’ve still got, what must be, over 200 steep steps ahead of them.

But once they make it to the top Robert understands. He understands what makes this place so special. It’s called baggy point, or something ridiculous like that, and there’s nothing to see but a rugged headland displaying breathtaking coastal, sea and farmland views. There’s a bench a the top, one of those brown wooden memorial ones with tired slats and a shiny brass plaque for someone’s late grandparents, married for decades. And once Robert’s caught his breath he grabs Aaron’s hand and plonks them down together. Fingers not once losing contact.

“S’gorgeous, isn’t it?” Robert says quietly.

“Yeah,” Aaron breaths out, seemingly speechless all of a sudden. But then he’d voiced his thoughts, told Robert that it was odd for himself to react with such awe when he’d woken up to the same view every morning for the last week, but it seemed different when it was Robert. “Everything's different when it’s with you,” Aaron finished.

And Robert could only nod in agreement, scared of his voice betraying him.

Now, though, a quiet had dawned upon the pair of them, and Robert took the opportunity to soak up the view for a small while. Robert’s arm was pressed up against Aaron’s, warmth seeping through him.

“Just like you.” Robert had blurted out suddenly, shattering the peace.

“What?”

“The view - it’s gorgeous - just like you”

“Shut up,” Aaron cried, whacked Robert on the arm and then buried his head in his neck.

“You are Aaron. You’re gorgeous. You’re funny. You’re special.”

“Don’t -”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t make me fall in love with you.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

---

Day three:

Robert knew it was too good to be true that he’d wake to sunshine two mornings in a row. Rain dusted the air and the wind rattled the windows, tapping on them with its sharp claws.

He hated the uncertainty and the quiet and the disappointment. Robert was used to being the disappointment, not being the one to feel it.

So he decided to do what he did best: ignore it. If he ignored the pang in his chest then it would no longer be there. Right?

He’d only known Aaron not even two days, he needed to get a grip - pull himself together.

And he was doing a pretty good job of entertaining Victoria on the rainy morning - an even better job of forgetting Aaron. Well, that was until his phone illuminated the dimly lit room.

Aaron: I’m sorry.

Robert thought about ignoring him, knew this thing they were doing was only going to end in heartbreak - he heard his Dad’s voice in his head telling him to quit while he was ahead, just like he’d told him when Robert had confessed his dreams of going to university - but that voice had only spurred him on then, and it seemed to have the same effect now. Fingers rapidly typing out a response before his brain had the chance to catch up.

Robert: No, I’m sorry.

Aaron: I’m sorrier?

Robert: Fine, fine, you win. We good?

Aaron: Yeah. You around today?

Robert: For you, always

Aaron: Pack a beach bag and meet me down the bottom at midday x

Aaron: Don’t forget your suncream, blondie ;)

---

“So these are all really your family? You sure you didn’t just find half of them on the streets?” Robert asked as they made their way down to the beach, surrounded by what seemed to be half the guests at the caravan park.

“Oi!”

“Sorry,” Robert said on a laugh, “It must be nice, having all this family,” he added, voice taking a serious tone suddenly, laced with an underlying sadness.

“Hm, it depends. Sometimes it’s a nightmare, trust me. What about you, you not got a big family back at home?”

“Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing - nothing. Race you to those sand dunes over there,” Robert pointed in the distance, began running before he gave Aaron a chance to register what he’d said. It felt much like he was running from his problems - yet again.

Robert was embarrassed to admit Aaron had won, outran him - despite Robert’s head start. They both fell on the soft sand of the dunes, breathless and sweaty. The beach was packed - families and couples, runners and suffers, sea and sand. Robert watched on - reminiscing about the summer he spent learning to surf with his Mum, across in Cornwall.

“You can surf?” Aaron asked, making no attempt to hide the shook from his voice, “Is there anything you can’t do?”

Robert blushed under the praise, quickly diverted the conversation, “I can teach if you like?”

Robert took Aaron’s slight nod as a yes, “let’s see what equipment the surf school has got for us to borrow, shall we?”

“Sure,” Aaron replied, entirely not at all sure.

When they were fairly close to the sea, Robert went through the usual safety measures and tips with Aaron on dry land. He taught him about the lifeguarding process and the dangers, all that malarkey which Aaron only vaguely listened to because he was too busy staring at Robert’s red lips. Robert knew that Aaron wasn’t interested in the words, more so the movement of his mouth, and that with the knowledge he started moving his lips in a teasing way.

Once they were in the water, Robert taught Aaron to balance on the board, where to put his hands and how to use his arse to his own advantage. The rest of the teaching seemed to go fine, but, of course, Aaron did not want to pass up on any possibility of Robert and himself touching, so he feigned uncertainty and an abominable amount of balance. With a bruised huff and a badly hidden lopsided smile, Robert slotted in behind Aaron. Hardly discreetly, Aaron pushed back against the lanky body behind him as he set his stance flush against Robert’s. It went on like that for a while, Robert found it hard to pull himself away from the body in skin-tight clothing, but eventually, he pried his mind away from other places and back to the swash of the sea.

The first few attempts, with Robert’s aid, did not exactly put Aaron in high spirits. It took him a while to even catch a wave while lying down, let alone standing up.

After a while, Aaron finally caught a wave. He wasn’t standing for long, and he soon topples off and caused his own wave of pain, but it was enough. He had, however temporarily stood up, grinning widely, entirely pleased with himself. Robert had nearly bowled him over as he swept him up, proud expression adorning his face. Robert, the newfound surfing instructor, spun him around, cheering happily along with the applauding froth upon the broken waves.

“I did it!” Aaron cheered excitedly as Robert plopped him back down on his feet.

Aaron’s hand slicked back Robert’s sodden hair from flopping onto his forehead. His fingers trickled down so that his thumb could press into the bone of his cheek. Robert’s smile was soft, caring. “You did so well, honestly, that was so good Aaron.”

Aaron’s top teeth scraped over his bottom lip as he smiled up at Robert. “Thanks.” Spontaneously, he lifted up onto his tiptoes and smacked his lips on Robert’s.

And Robert knew Aaron regretted his decision the second he heard his Aunt Charity wolf-whistle at them, a whole village worth of eyes on the pair.

They’d packed up not long after. Robert had been summoned by Aaron’s Gran, apparently, she’d needed him to pack up the windbreaker, bend right over and dig it out of the wet sand, while she looked on. Robert found it hilarious but Aaron, well he wouldn’t want to ever be on the receiving end of his furious glare.

He took Aaron back to his caravan that night, surprisingly not with the intent of winding his Dad up, but because he couldn’t bare to part with Aaron just yet.

Victoria took a shine to Aaron almost instantly, and yeah - she was definitely Robert’s sister. And by some miracle she’d even managed to convince Jack to let Aaron stay for tea - Robert loved her, he really did.

“So Aaron, tell us a bit about yourself,” Jack struck up, the heat from the fish and chips almost clouding Robert’s view, “have you got yourself a girlfriend back home?” He’d asked so casually, while Robert nearly choked chip.

“Uh - yeah - yeah I have,” and if Robert wasn’t choking to death before, he certainly is now.

“Ah that’s wonderful, isn’t it Robert?”

“Yeah, it’s great” Robert replied while Aaron’s foot hooked around his ankle under the table.

“Maybe she has a friend for Robert?” Jack has questioned in Aaron’s direction.

“Oh I know just the person for Robert, Mr. Sugden”

The little bastard smirked across the table, and honestly, Robert wasn’t sure if he hated or loved Aaron more in that moment.

But when Aaron makes it up to Robert with the best blow job of his fucking life he decided it was the latter.

He loved Aaron.

---

They’ve only got two more nights here together, not that Robert’s been counting or anything. Roberts never believed in fate, or love at first sight, or living every day as if it’s your last - not until Aaron. Which is why he sneaks Aaron back into his caravan at midnight, takes him to his room and locks the door carefully behind them.

They’re pressed together on the bed, a bottle of cheap vodka and a pack of playing cards between them. They’re pissing about, like best friends do, like lovers do.

Soon enough he’s got Aaron withering beneath him, half-heartedly telling Robert to stop his assault on Aaron’s thighs.  

"Piss off, you love it," Robert pouts.

"You love it, more like."

Robert softens for a bit, comes up and burrows his face into Aaron's neck, heart pounding out a rhythm of AaronAaronAaron in his chest. "Stop trying to distract me."

Aaron softens right along with him when Robert pecks him on the nose, Aaron tries to deny the ridiculously soppy smile that takes over his face - he kisses him instead, just because he can, because they've had a few days of this pathetically domestic bliss now and Robert maybe wants another twenty years or so.

They're tipsy as fuck, is the thing. Robert knows they’re going to regret that last shot in the morning when he wakes up alone, with nothing but a throbbing headache to accompany him.

But Robert's heard that being drunk removes or lessens people's inhibitions, which is why he’d spent hours telling Aaron his whole childhood and everything that fucked him up, from start to finish - the duvet they were hiding under acting as a protective blanket for the pair. And then Aaron had done the same and they’d both ended up crying. It was to be expected. What Robert didn't expect, even from a slightly tipsy Aaron, was a promise, because Aaron had told him he doesn't believe in things like permanence and solidity, and most definitely not promises. His Mum had promised, his Dad had promised. They both broke that promise.

But he said it anyway, “I've just told you my whole past and I swear to god, Robert I promise you're going to be my whole future.”

And Robert’s heart fucking broke.

But now they’re here, Robert having marked every inch of Aaron, from between his legs to his warm mouth. I love you, Robert thinks, opens his mouth to say it but kisses him instead, bruises Aaron's and his own lips, trying to push the words into Aron’s mouth with his tongue. I love you I love you I love you.

Robert is struck by a wave, a tsunami, of feeling. It crushes him under its weight and sends his head spinning. Suddenly he can’t contain it anymore.

After a few moments, panting and with their foreheads still pressed together, he says it, utters the words that have been playing on his mind for days, “I think I love you.”

And suddenly everything falls into place for Robert, he imagines this is what it feels like when people return home after years of being missing, or what it feels like when those people in the movies meet their soulmate for the first time. It feels like perfect.

“I do love you Aaron, I know I do”

They should talk about it, definitely, figure things out, but kissing each other for hours, getting acquainted with each other’s bodies just seems like a better idea.

And when a panting moan arises in Aaron’s throat. "God, Robert. I - fuck - I want you. I want you so bad."

Who is Robert to deny him?

(They do talk about it, eventually, still tangled in the sheets and Robert has had to piss for hours now but even just leaving Aaron to go to the bathroom is too much. They talk about the future, and maybe they’re getting ahead of themselves, but they can’t help to dream about firsts: first road trip, first holiday, first family events, first homes, first everything. They talk and they laugh and they cry until Robert thinks he’s actually going to piss himself).

---

Day four:

Friday comes around too quickly for Robert’s liking. He considers laying in bed all day, letting the darkness consume him. Considers standing Aaron up, getting in the car and driving away without so much as a goodbye - reckons it may be less painful that way. Robert had never had to say goodbye to anyone before, he hadn’t ever the chance to. Sure, he’d had people he cared about snatched away from him, in the cruellest of ways, but he’d never had to sit there and say goodbye. And in some twisted sense, he thinks maybe this is more painful.

But Roberts not a coward. Not anymore. He meets Aaron on their bench at six on the dot, he brushes his fingers over the memorial plaque and he wonders, a little morbidly, if people will build a bench for him and Aaron one day. The brisk sea air is whipping at his face, clambering along the shoreline, reminding him that is real and not just some horrid dream. The sun had started to set, the sky transitioning from a cool blue to and arrays of oranges and golds - and the closer the sun moves towards the horizon, the deeper in love Robert falls. They sit in silence for a while, a bag of salty chips between them, neither of them wanting to be the first to make this a reality. The crash of the ocean on rocks below hums like white noise, and Robert ponders the sea.

The sea was the kindest object of the world, Robert liked to think. It was always watching, yes, but never judging. It looked out with ever-changing blue eyes, sometimes soft, sometimes harsh. It could be flat when it fancied, slow and chilled. But it could be fierce, too. It could be wild, restless, and downright thrilling. The waves could crash with such force that you could be knocked over in one fell swoop. Just like Aaron had done to him - crashed into his life and knocked him flat.

But the thing Robert loved most about the sea was that it would never leave. Most things in life leave; practically everything does. People leave, walk away, forget, die. Things leave, get lost, get forgotten, decompose. But the sea, no, that always stays. Waves wash in and out but they always come back - no matter what.

He wishes he could say the same about Aaron. Or himself.

Robert couldn't help the tears filling his eyes, despite his inner resolve. His body betrayed him. His body yearned for Aaron. His eyes, his head, his heart. His intellect and emotions. He felt like he knew Aaron inside out, despite the limited time they’d had together. He wanted to see Aaron’s face again and again and again, all of his familiar angles, his eyelashes that fanned down his cheeks, the way he would purse his lips just before he laughed, his hands that were so animated, rough but gentle. He wanted it all.

And when he finally turned to face Aaron, he was greeting with red-raw eyes and a sad smile. If they were both this much of a mess before they’d done the talking, Robert dreaded to think what they’d be like by the end.

Robert hated seeing Aaron like this, couldn’t bare it, so he did what he does best and surged forward and smashed their lips together in a not so delicate manner. He pried open Aaron’s lips with his tongue, kissing him roughly - an attempt to lick out the remnants of sadness radiating from Aaron.

And he feels like an idiot that he’s this upset, that they’re both this upset. Because they are brand new, barely a few days in, but Robert can’t help but taste the concept of forever on Aaron’s tongue - and want to swallow it down in a wild flurry. Aaron feels permanent, solid, like something he’s been waiting for forever.

But they’re barely adults, barely old enough to be trusted with their own hearts, nevermind someone else's too.

"Please don't." Aaron mutters across Robert’s lips.

"Don't kiss you?"

"Don't stop."

Robert closes the gap again, surging forward to press his mouth to Aaron's. Its deep but it doesn't last too long before they part again, resting their foreheads together.

“I’m going to miss you so much” Aaron tries, his voice wavering.

“Me too. So, so much.”

“It’s not fair this, it’s fucking stupid.”

“I know,” Robert sighs, “but we’ll figure this out, I promise you Aaron." He lifts one corner of his mouth in a wry half-smile.”

“How Robert? How?”

He has a lot of really honest answers, but some of them come easier than others. He wants to say that he has no idea. That he's petrified and uncertain and angry at the world. But he doesn't say any of that - he can't be the one to make Aaron cry again.

“I don’t know yet okay? But it will work out,” Robert says instead of voicing his own fears, “It will. One day, one day there won’t be any distance. Okay?” And suddenly Robert’s thinking of Sarah - she once told him that if you want something so bad you won’t stop until you have it. And God, does Robert want Aaron.

“I’m gonna get myself a car yeah? I’ve already started saving, twenty-seven pounds and counting,” Robert adds, attempting to lighten the mood, “And then you won’t be able to get rid of me, honestly mate you’ll wish you ditched me when you had the chance.”

And finally, finally there’s a flicker of something other than sadness crossing Aaron’s features, his eyes crinkle and he leans into Robert. Who takes the opportunity to wrap his arm around Aaron’s broad shoulders.

“I think this might be my favourite place in the world.” Aaron express, sounding so much younger than his seventeen years.

“I think you might be my favourite place in the world, Aaron”

It seemed like the air around them had been set alight. They were encircled by a ring of flames. Where they would be, what they would have done by the time they had turned into scattered ashes, by the time they had their own memorial bench, neither knew. But they certainly wanted to find out.

Robert thinks of all the, potentially far fetched, things they have planned for the future, all the things they’re going to do and see and experience. Some things Robert can’t even imagine wanting with anyone; a house, a marriage, a few kids. Anyone but Aaron.

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.”

“Forever?” Robert questions

“Forever and day.”

Robert looks out to the sea once more - a sea nourished with loving tears - he wants to drown himself in promises, but even the sea crashes with an uncertainty. So he only promises Aaron two things; that he’ll have brought a car by the time Aaron’s birthday comes around and he’ll never slag Butlins off again.

[wayneooverton]

A snowy road trip to Milford Sound in winter

Is there anything more beautiful than the first big snowfall of winter?

Waking up to a pure wonderland of shimmering white? When you see the blue glow from your windows and just know that yes, there is a fresh layer of snow outside. It reminds me so much of my childhood in Virginia, listening to the radio with my mom with my fingers crossed hoping to hear my school district closed, instead of just a two hour delay.

Hands up if you can relate.

Everything you need to know about surviving winter in New Zealand

I have always loved the first snowfall of the season. Before we become haggard and jaded, annoyed with the inconvenience of it all, and sick of just being cold. Before it gets all dirty, gray and slushy.

There is a simple joy to be had I think.

In Wanaka, where I live in New Zealand now, it’s rare that is snows down to ground level; the massive glacial lake keeps the surface temperature fairly warm, so the days of getting snowed in are few and far between.

Though I’ll admit it’s equally exciting to wake up see the snowline fresh and low on the surrounding mountains outside of town, knowing that powder days are coming in soon.

This year is looking to be a whopper of a winter here on the South Island. In fact, we’ve had so much early snow that my local ski resort, Cardrona, opened early to everyone’s excitement, including mine.

But by May (which I like to think is our November in the southern hemisphere), we were already getting buried in snow and the mountain passes around me were frequently closed or requiring chains, which are seriously the worst.

Towards the end of May, we had several big snowstorms in a row, and once the Milford Road reopened after being closed for heavy snowfall and avalanche danger, I decided to spontaneously take a roadie out for the day to Milford Sound – one of the most scenic and beautiful drives in New Zealand.

To be honest, a day trip to Milford Sound from Wanaka isn’t really a day trip as it takes almost 5 hours in one direction to get there. Fiordland is fairly far from anywhere but with its wild rivers, vertical cliffs and jurassic mountains, it’s totally worth it.

I’ve been dozens of times and I keep going back again and again.

And it was also the last week that Mercedes-Benz kindly leant me their brand new X-Class, the first ute they’ve ever made. And when faced at the thought of sitting down at my computer doing last year’s taxes OR going on a road trip in the snow in flash wagon, the decision was easy.

Milford Sound, I am coming for you in my hot new whip.

Merinos, Mercedes and meatballs: A 30th birthday adventure

Ever since I was a teenager I’ve owned grunty 4WDs that could get me through anything. I find it hard to drive anything less, especially now that I live in the mountains, and New Zealand’s idea of snowplowing is a joke. I like owning cars that can get me through anything.

Plus I grew up a bit of a redneck, and I particularly enjoyed parking my yellow SUV on plowed snowbanks and doing donuts in the mud, you know, because I could.

You can take the girl out of the South….

Somethings never change.

And while I had put the X-Class through its paces in glacial river crossings and in the mud on farms, I had yet to take it into the mountains in the snow. Honestly, I was doing Mercedes a favor, really. You’re welcome.

I swear it had nothing to do with the fact that anywhere I went I would get ogled and hit up by (mostly) men interested in the truck.

It’s the first ute that Mercedes has ever made, and she’s a looker. It also happened to be the very first one released in New Zealand EVER and probably one of the first down on the South Island. We are in SUV and ute country down in these parts, folks, and the X-Class got a lot of attention whenever I took her you, which, you know, I didn’t mind. Like at all.

Oh hey! *hair flick*

I just learned real quick to brush up on all my key facts around the model so when I got asked about things like towing capacity and engine size, I didn’t look like a total fool.

I had my first driving over the Crown Range at sunrise, our notorious alpine pass connecting Queenstown and Wanaka and topping out at around 1100 meters. The highest public road in New Zealand, it’s chock full of windy bends, tight turns, steep climbs and a descent with large drops that can intimidate even the bravest of drivers.

Just remember it wasn’t that long ago that it was dirt and without a guardrail and harden up!

In winter it often is closed or required to have chains for mostly 2WD. It was a veritable wonderland when I crossed over, easily flicking the X-Class into 4WD near the top.

Several strong lattes and a few hours later, I began to get a glimpse of the snowy mountains of Fiordland.

May and June while aren’t always the best weather to experience New Zealand, are the very lowest of low season which means you often have popular haunts like the iconic Milford Road all to yourself.

I find great happiness in revisiting some of my favorite spots in all weather at any time of year around the world, each visit is like seeing it with new eyes, and getting to see Fiordland with fresh snow so early in the winter was even more glorious than I imagined.

The low cloud and fog clung to the mountains on the Te Anau side of the Homer Tunnel, the dividing pass of the Milford Road that descends down into Milford Sound on the other side. It shifted in and out in the sharp winter wind, offering stunning glimpses of the peaks and with the occasional beam of sunlight bathing a slice of the world in golden light.

The cheeky kea (New Zealand’s endangered alpine parrot) were out in full force, equally excited for the fresh snow as I was. Or perhaps the more likely scenario was that they just caught a whiff of new car smell, and were ready to go in and leave their mark, as they are well known for.

One opportunistic kea took a nice bite out of the rubber around the doorframe while I was taking a video. Little shits.

Sorry Mercedes!

As I wove my way higher and higher towards the Homer Tunnel, fresh signs appeared warning of the avalanche danger and advising no stopping, quickly destroying my hopes for revisiting all my favorite photos spots.

The snowy views more than made up for it, and as I made the final leg into Milford Sound itself at sunset, all the cloud disappeared, turning the white peaks orange and gold before quickly dipping behind the iconic Mitre Peak.

Warmed up by the sea air and sunshine, I patrolled the banks of Milford at low tide, one of my favorite past times. Enjoying the disconnectivity and rejoicing in the simple happiness that comes from being alone in a beautiful place, I reflected on that day’s journey, once again glad I chose an adventure over taxes.

I mean seriously, who has ever regretted a spontaneous snow road trip?

Have you been to Milford Sound? Do you love the first snowfalls too? Are winter road trips your jam? Share!

TIP: if you’re planning to road trip around the South Island in winter (May – September), it’s a good idea to hire a 4WD and rent chains AND know how to put them on. Roads like the Milford Road and the Crown Range often have restrictions or close and are covered in snow and ice. Here are some good winter driving tips in New Zealand and you can check the Milford Rd status here)

Many thanks to Mercedes-Benz for hooking me up with the sweet X-Class, like always I’m keeping it real, all opinions are my own, like you could expect less from me. 

The post A snowy road trip to Milford Sound in winter appeared first on Young Adventuress.

from Young Adventuress https://ift.tt/2NCr6eL