#if I can convince work to send me to London in December….if not well guess what I have Macbeth closing night tickets to give one of you.

[thealogie]

Did I get both opening and closing night tickets? Don’t look at me.

[pink-caterina]

The Cost of a Legacy (4)

Summary : He sees her and she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, everything perfect. Well except the fact that they’re growing up during the revolutionary war. Their love will hit many hurdles and what the future has in store may not be what they planned. 

Pairing : John Laurens x Reader

Words : 4,851

1771 October

My Dearest (Y/n),

I know by the time you receive this letter you will hopefully be in Switzerland, it's come to my realization that our declarations of love will be few and far. My letters, no matter how many I write won’t arrive in your sweet hands till weeks after it’s written. It was silly of me to hope that the distance between us wouldn’t affect our dynamic.

Don’t misinterpret me my love, this does not change anything between us. This just makes my anticipation for your letters even greater.

Anyway, I’ve returned to my usual routine and to my parents demands, I have begun to take my studies seriously, which I know will ease your mind. It feels odd to have no reason to travel to New York though, maybe I’ll visit your old man after he comes back from seeing you. Henry Jr. has been kinder, he never liked my frequent trips to see you, as you know. I think he’s jealous of how much time I spent with you over him, but I don’t regret it.

I miss our adventures through Manhattan, I wish I had taken you out more. Not that I didn’t love our time spent on the outskirts of the busy town. But I wish I could have taken you to Charleston, to meet my mother or siblings. Aw, little James would have loved you, well he’s not so little anymore but he loves meeting new people. My sisters would have loved to listen to your romance stories, and your life in the biggest city in the colonies.

Well, my love, I wait for your response. I pray you’ve arrived safely in your new home and that you meet new FEMALE friends. I can not stress this enough love, FEMALE friends would be ideal. Though I trust you, I don’t trust the Swedish BOYS, they will try, mark my words. Your beauty charms everyone. But while those Boys wil try to gain your affection but remember you have a MAN across the sea still dedicated to courting you.

With Love

John Laurens

1771 November

To my darling John,

Oh, John, your right, your letter took so long to arrive, I almost had myself convinced you didn’t want to write to me. I guess we both didn’t factor in the whole ocean and thousands of miles of land we'd be apart, seems obvious now.

I want to wish you a happy birthday darling. I wish I was able to stay to celebrate your 17th with you, but it seems like my father wanted me gone quickly. I know it’s not much but I’m sending my favorite hair ribbon with this letter, a small token to remind you of me. I wish I could send you an actual gift but the sisters here are very strict and were only allowed to exit the grounds with a male companion. And as your letter states, I will attempt to stay far away from any gentleman callers.

John, I miss you so much. I long to be in your arms again, who knows when that will next be. Do you have to live an ocean away? What an unfair God we serve, he put this distance between us.

Thoughts of you never leave my mind, I wake and wonder if you’ve gone off to class, after I leave class I wonder how you fared at your job for that day. And at night when I rest on my bed I stare at the stars we used to gaze together I wonder if you're also missing my company. I miss you, John. There’s so much more I want to say to you, but I’ll save that for when I see you again, I pray it is soon.

With Love,

(Y/n) Fiore Gavalanch

1771 December

“Johnny, your old man said you were up he-oh a letter from Miss Gavalanch I assume?” Dave entered the room seeing his friend at his desk reading a letter. “Yea, why are you here?” John answered still focused on his letter.

“Mate, I’m here to save you from your self. Come on John lets go out for  a walk or we could stand in the middle of town and wait for some crazy loon to start cursing about the king?” John shook his head, “No I’ve got to write back (Y/n) back. The faster I write it and send it out the faster it can get to her.” Dave sighed, “John, mate you can’t just live for these letters, you’ve done nothing but study, work and wait for her response for the past 3 months. I’m sure (Y/n) wants you to have a life too.”

John sighed, of course Dave was right, John just didn’t want to accept it. His life these past few months has been terrible, of course reading and responding to (Y/n)’s letters were the highlight but besides that, he felt like a big part of his soul was missing. He knew he felt like this because she was gone. “Your right Davey, let go to town and watch the protesters make speeches about how terrible our leader is... Which he is.” He corrected his friend and he put his coat on. “You have your opinion, I have mine. Call them protesters I call them fools, they deserve to be beheaded.” John rolled his eyes, “Come on let’s go.” They turned to exit, John, paused to grab the ribbon on his desk and staching it in his pocket.

1772 January

“Miss Gavalanch! You’ve got a letter from New York, and Charleston.” (Y/n) ran down from her room to the entrance of the home, one had to be from her father the other John. “Thank you Anna!” She kissed the woman’s cheek before skipping back the room happily, Anna had been hired by her father to keep watch of her here in Switzerland. Not like (y/n) got to do much anyway since she was preoccupied with her studies.

Her first few months in Geneva were to state simply, sad. After her father’s visit she knew her stay would be longer than she expected, she begged for him to take her back and her father a man who has never said no to her refused. After his short visit he left as if there was no issue, which upset her. If he really planned to keep her here for who knows how long she could go years without seeing John.

She sat on her bed and placed her father’s letter to the side, probably just sending her money as he had done so far. She held John’s letter tracing over how he wrote her name on the envelope, she adored his writing. She opened his letter, oh how she longed to hear his voice instead of imagining it.

To my love,

First, let me wish you a Merry Christmas! I know you’re not used to be alone during this time, but I hope your new friends made you feel welcomed. Now let me say Happy New Year, when I’m writing this it’s not yet 1772 but I assume by the time you get this it will be.

I wanna thank you for the ribbon you sent me, I like looking it and remembering that you’re out there waiting for me. No gift from you is too small, I just hope you’re still wearing the necklace I gifted you. I have a surprise for you, during the summer I may have enough saved to come to see you, maybe just for a week but its better than nothing. I know the summer is far from now but think about it love, we could be in each other’s arms again.

Things in the colonies don’t seem to be going well, just the other day I went downtown to see many folks protesting, Dave my friend who I used to mention from school, isn’t very fond of the riots. I don’t understand how he still supports stupid King George, I think if there was a war tomorrow I’d volunteer. I don’t think the people here really want to fight though, so maybe we can come to a compromise that will benefit us all. God knows that if we don’t things could get ugly fast.

Besides how terrible things are going for us over here please write to me on how you are. I worry about you constantly (Y/n). Maybe soon I’ll go visit your old man soon. Take care of yourself love, hopefully, I’ll hear from you soon.

Sincerely Yours,

John Laurens

“What are you all smiley for?” Anna asked standing in front of (Y/n) door entrance. (Y/n) startled dropped the letter and grabbed her father’s. “Nothing just reading what my father wrote to me.”

“And the letter from Charleston, whos that one from?” She smiled looking away from Anna, holding her necklace “Just a friend.” Anna hummed shutting the door leaving (Y/n) to herself. Oh John, how I long for you, she thought.

1772 February

“JOHN!”

“Coming mother” He ran up to his parent’s room striding over to his mother. “Yea Ma? You need me to get you more water or get a meal started?” She shook her head and motioned him to sit. “I’m fine son, I just wanted to talk, see how you’re doing in school.” She turned her head to cough.

“I’m good ma, focusing on my studies as you wanted.” He took her hand and tried to warm it with his, she was getting worse. His mother had entertained 5 pregnancies, so when she announced her sixth pregnancy everyone was elated, another Laurens child. But this one was different from the start, his mother was put on strict bed rest from the doctor, he said that since she was older she wasn’t able to handle being pregnant like younger women could. So here she was bedridden for 3 months so far and she’d stay her for another 6, the doctor blamed her pregnancy on her other symptoms too. Lack of appetite, weight loss, and constant fever.

“How’s that girl, what’s her name again?” He smiled, the mention of (Y/n) always brightened the day. “Ahh, Martha! Hows she son?” He frowned, Martha. Martha who was his father’s business partner’s daughter. Martha who stayed with his family over the holidays, something he didn’t want to include in his letters to (Y/n). Martha who had apparently grown fond of John because she sent him a letter every two weeks. She was from London where his father’s new business took place, where letters got here faster than from Switzerland. “Shes good I think.”

“She’s such a sweet girl John, only two years younger than you. And she seems to like you very much, I see she send you letters more frequently than Gavalanch’s girl.” Ever since his mom met Martha she was obsessed with her, always bringing her up during dinner and how elegant of women she was. It wasn’t that he hated Martha she was just too bland, shes like every girl in Charleston, except she has a British accent, which didn’t help her here in the colonies anyway. She had no opinions, agreed with all his statements, and laughed at everything he said, even when it wasn’t funny. He understood why she was like that but he wasn’t interested.

“(Y/n) cant write to me as often because she’s in Switzerland, which is so much farther than Britain. You know that mother, and you know I’m not interested in Martha so please stop writing her.” She huffed, John understood she knew nothing about (Y/n) except that her father was a cruel man who constantly put down his father, which didn’t make (Y/n) seem like the best person. “John, sweetheart I just wanna see you marry soon, before I go, to great women like Martha.” He sighed trying not to be angry with his mother, not wanting to start an argument with his ill mother.

He stood up leaning down to kiss her head “Maybe I will.” A white lie, something to calm his mother’s nerves for a bit. She smiled pulling him close “John, Marthas a good girl who likes you and her father could provide you with a good career. Think about it, you could be happy.” He pulled away with a small nod making his way to his room. He sat at his desk and began composing another letter, why could you be here?

1772 March

“Is that John Laurens? John, John!” He turned startled to see no one other than Angelica Schuyler and her two younger sisters trailing after her. “Angelica! Long time no see, how are you? Elizabeth, Margarita.” He greeted the younger girls. “I’m as good as I can be when my best friend is a world away, but I guess you can relate. I knew her father was mean but to send his only daughter away for no valid reason, that man upsets me.” She frowned at him, her sisters nodding in agreement, at least their father wanted them around. “What are you doing in Manhattan John?” Eliza asked.

“Well truly I just wanted to get away from the noise in my home, so I wanted to go where I feel most at peace, and well I got in a carriage to New York.” New York always calmed him, or he supposed (Y/n) calmed him. He hoped he could relax even with her not being here. “I was actually on my way to see (Y/n)’s father, it been a minute since I’ve pestered him with my existence. In all seriousness though, (Y/n) wanted me to see how her father was doing, she says her father’s letters are becoming sporadic and shes worried. So here I am”

“Well John maybe you should fix your coat first, you’ve got a huge hole on the arm, I’m sure Mr. Gavalanch won’t think highly on you if you show up like that. Good luck but me and the girls have to go home before father starts looking for us. Don’t be a stranger!” He waved goodbye watching his old friend leave, maybe he should visit Manhattan more often. Just because (Y/n) was gone doesn’t mean he should avoid the city entirely. He looked at his coat seeing the whole Angelica was talking about, dammit shes right Gavalanch would use any imperfection against him. He made his way downtown, he’s pretty sure he saw a tailor on his way up.

He arrived at “Mulligans Tailor” he walked in happy to see it wasn’t busy. “Sir how can I help you?” The young man behind the register asked him to which he pointed at his jacket “I’m on my way to see my- my father in law and I noticed a hole in my jacket. Is there any way you could fix it now?” He took off his coat and handed it to the tailor “Yes I could fix it, it’ll be 12 pence”

“12 pence to fix a small hole? That’s insane sir.” The man smirked “Sir we provide luxury tailoring here, most of our business comes from British soldiers, so our prices are high for a reason.” “Fine here.” He took out his wallet and gave the young man money. “It’ll be ready in 10 minutes, so you can take a seat.” He gestured to the stool and began working on the coat. “So whos your father in law must be an important man to fix a coat for 12 pence.”

“Well he’s not my father in law yet, I’m courting his daughter. Um, Mr. Gavalanch up on Williams Street.” The boy gasped “Your courting (Y/n) Gavalanch? Well, I thought her father wasn’t giving permission to start courting her. So many of my pals from school have asked him and he’s said no every time.” John shrugged “I didn’t exactly ask for permission.” The tailor laughed, “that makes sense Mr. Gavalanch even said no to Thomas Detuch, his father is rich. With their combined fortune, they could own all of New York.”

“Gosh your a lucky man what I would do if I could get my hands on her-”

“Watch it.” He glared at the boy, no one was going to talk about his girl like that. “Woah man just congratulating you, I don’t have anything to offer a girl like that anyway.” He nodded in reply, he didn’t have enough to provide for a girl like (Y/n) either. The thought saddened him sure his father was respected in Charleston but here in Manhattan, they were no ones. “All done man.” He stood up and approached the tailor “Thanks-”

“Hercules, Hercules Mulligan.” He shook Hercules’s hand “John Laurens, thanks, Hercules. See ya around.” He put his coat on and exited the shop making his way back uptown.

Looking at (Y/n)’s home you’d think it was abandoned, the grass dead, stairs dirty, and (Y/n)’s beloved flowers shriveled. He knocked on the door, looking around the porch, mail on the ground. He picked them up to see 2 from (Y/n) and 5 others from some men, he assumed business partners of Gavalanch.  He knocked again, wondering why the help hadn’t come to open yet, he waited until the door was opened. There stood a disheveled Gavalanch, it looked as if he hadnt shaved in 2 months, his clothes wrinkly. He looked like a bum in comparison to Johns’s neat look. “Laurens? What are you doing here? (Y/n)’s gone.” He stepped out closing the door behind him, not wanting John to see the state of the inside of the house.

“I know Sir, um your daughter wrote me. She asked me to come up and check on you, she states you’ve seen distant in her letters and don’t tell  her anything about how you are doing.” Gavalanch smiled “My girl, always worrying about me. Boy, write to her and tell her I’ll write to her as soon as I get the chance, I’ve just been busy with business, that’s all.” He nodded but something was off, a man John knew his whole life to be a neat, sophisticated looking man now looked like he lived outside for the last 5 months. He started to retreat, “John, does my daughter write you frequently?”

“No sir, she was worried and knew that her friends here wouldn’t want to approach you, so she asked me.” He lied trying to read Gavalanches face, did he buy it? “Okay, after this letter please don’t write her again she needs to focus on her studies.” He nodded making his way out of the yard, “Yes sir, see you around.”

1772 April

My dear (Y/n),

I spoke to your father on my trip to New York, he looked tired to say the least. He assured me he was just overworked, yet if that were the case Id think your father needs to retire. He said he’d write to you as soon as his work allowed it. Don’t fret my love your father will write to you soon, he’s a hard worker and sometimes works can consume men. But they do it to provide for those they love, as I will with you when you return back from the Switz.

On my trip, I saw your dear friend Angelica, and her darling sisters. They grow ten times faster than normal children I swear. Angelica expressed to me how much she missed your company, Elizabeth probably still too young to understand her. I bet you miss her, I remember when she joined us on our adventures, or should I say when I joined you two. I admire your friendship so much.

While in Manhattan I met a friend of my own, a tailor named Hercules Mulligan, he patched my coat and after I spoke to your father we chatted a bit, I told him how I used to visit the city every weekend to be with you, and how now I long to be in the city again. The pace in New York is just so much more exciting than Charleston. I think when you come back I’ll stay for good, to be with you and the city. Any way Hercules offered to let me stay with his family when I want to come visit the city.  

As you might recall I told you my parents were attempting to have one more child, well mother is now pregnant. Shes become ill through her pregnancy, the doctor says after the baby is delivered she will be healthier. I hope that is the case. Well, love I hope you write me back as soon as possible. Remember I hope to see you this summer.

Yours always,

John Laurens

1772 May

“Henry go get your brother” Mrs. Laurens laid on her bed sweaty, weak, and fragile. Her skin sunken, only her bump sticking out. He nodded leaving his mothers beside to find his brother, he looked in Johns’s room seeing no sight of him, he headed out to the garden in their backyard. As his senses told him there was John with a letter in his hand laying on the grass without a care in the world. Everyone but John had pretty much known that their mother was close to death, she woke up every day in pain and rambled nonsense, they assumed only holding on to deliver her last baby. John chooses to ignore the obvious.

His actions the past few months angered Henry. He had been so focused on (Y/n) and her family and his new friends in New York that it seemed like John wasn’t even there. He approached John snatching the letter from his hand “Mom wants to see you.” John stood up snatching the letter back and tucking it in his pocket. “Just say so, no need to get nasty.” He pushed past his younger brother and made his way to his parents room.

“Mother, Henry said you wanted to see me.” He sat down beside his mother, a position that he grew to hate. “Yes Johnny, I have something to give you.” She reached over and handed him a letter “It’s from Martha, your brother gave it to me while you were out and I read it. I know that’s your mail but son from what I read this girl really loves you.” She smiled, she looked down at her left hand and began pulling off her wedding ring. He gasped as she took his hand and placed the ring in his hands. “Mom what-”

“Shh Johnny, my first baby. I love you and I wanna see you happy. And I think we all know after I have my last angel, I won’t recover. I want you to take this and give it to your bride.” She gestured to the letter in his other hand. “Mom don’t say that you’re going to have this baby and raise it. God wouldn’t let you die.” She chuckled wiping the tears that spilled from his eyes. “Sweetie I think God is calling me, it’ll be my time soon. So I want you to stay here and help your father with your siblings, your father could move his business to Charleston and you could work for him here. And Martha and her father could come here and it would bring you closer-”

“Mom no, I don’t want Martha, you know that.” She shook her head “I know, you don’t want her right now. But you could learn to love her John, she’s a great girl.” He stood up wiping his tears on his own, he smiled tucking in his mother, knowing he couldn’t change her mind. “Rest mom, I’ll come to see you after your nap.” She nodded falling asleep quickly. He turned to leave stopping when he saw Henry waiting for him the hallway.  “What?”

“Read Marthas letter, Mother read it to me and well, I know you love (Y/n). But you need to set things straight with Martha, shes… I would call her delusional.” And with that Henry left to his room, John made his way to his, and opened her letter.

Dearest John Laurens,

I found it odd that you haven’t written me back since my visit to your family in December. As you know your mother and I have become close friends, shes assured me you’re very busy with work and your studies. Which I completely understand, I’d expect nothing less of a great man like yourself.

Your mothers told me you’re very shy with your feelings too, so here I am being rather bold to say  I Adore You, John. I know its not very characteristic of me, but your mother says you enjoy that. If you don’t please let me know, I want to be the perfect match for you.

My mother raised me to be a perfect bride for whatever groom would have me. I also wanted to let you know my father one hundred percent approves of you, so it is whenever your ready we can begin courting. Im patient John.

Say hello to your mother for me, and let her know I’ll be around by the end of June. See you soon.

Yours Truly

Martha Mannings

Oh god, what is happening to his life.

1772 June

“JOHN, HENRY! Hurry” John heard his younger sister yell, he sighed as he out his half-written letter to (Y/n) away. He stood up making his way to where he heard her yell. “Mary I was writi-”

“John! We need to go, get to the horses!” His younger brother yelled running past him to their stables. He quickly followed his brother mounting his horse, “Henry what happened?”

“Mother went into labor” He gasped, his mother wasnt due for another month. “I’ll get the doctor, you go find father.” Henry nodded riding away, to find their father while John went the other way to the doctors home.

---

“How’s  your mother?” Their father who was out of breath, arriving with Henry. “The doctors been with her for a couple of hours and the midwife arrived half an hour ago. They said when you arrive to go in.” His father nodded running up the stairs to his wife. For the past hours, all the Laurens kids were hearing were screams and cries from their sweet mother.  “John is mommy going to be okay?” Mary the youngest asked, in tears hugging her brother’s side. “I don’t know Mary.”

“John! Mary of course Mothers going to be okay.” Henry responded trying to calm their siblings. He sat down next to John and took his hand and Mary’s. “We’re going to pray for Mother, Mary do you wanna start?” The little girl nodded, shutting her eyes and began her prayer. John sat there holding hands with his four siblings watching them pray, pray to a God who put their mother in this situation. He sat in silence.

---

“John, John.” He awoke to see his father red-eyed in front of him, he stood up without waking his siblings since they had fallen asleep waiting to see what happened. His father gestured that they leave the room, John followed. “How’s Mother? And the baby?” His father held his oldest son’s shoulder, “The baby, was a boy. He didnt make it, he was gone when he came out.” His father cried hugging his oldest, “And mother how she take it?” He father cried harder, “Father”

“Your mother had to go with your brother.” He stiffened “What?” His father pulled away, “The pain was too much for her, son.” He felt like he couldn’t breathe, just like that. Their savior not only took his brother but his mother. “I need to go, I need air.” He walked out not saying another word to his crying father.

---

Her ceremony was beautiful. He sat by her freshly covered grave, hours after the burial happened. His father and siblings gone, crying inside. He had yet to shed a tear, anger consumed him, why kind of god would kill his mother and baby brother. He stood when he heard footsteps behind him.

“I came as soon as I heard what happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here, I wish I could have gotten here earlier but I’m here for you now John.” He ran to her and hugged her. “Thank you for coming Martha.” He whispered, “Its no trouble John.”

1772 July

John, John, John. He was all that was on her mind, why hadn’t he written her? Was he still coming to see her? Did he still want this, her? She paced around her room waiting to see if Anna had any mail for her. It wasnt like John to leave her feeling so helpless.

“(Y/n), I’ve got something from Charleston!” Anna yelled as she made her way up, ‘Oh thank you Anna, thank you!” She smiled kissing both her cheeks grabbing the letter. “After you read your letter please come down to eat (Y/n) you need to eat tonight.” She nodded.

“Of course Anna Ill be down soon.” Anna nodded leaving (Y/n)’s room. She sat on her bed and took a deep breath, this would answer all her questions. To why her love hadnt written her if he was going to travel the sea to see her.

Dear (Y/N)

I won’t be coming to Switzerland, I’m sorry. I’ll write to you soon.

Sincerely

John Laurens

---

I finally edited this! I don’t know how Britains currency worked/use to work so sorry if thats wrong. 

New chapter soon!

[skgway]

1828 Dec., Sun. 28

6

11 1/2

At my desk at 7 1/2 – Wrote the few lines across the margin of page 220. Looking for an old Manchester Observer in which is a paragraph on the rights of women.

Take up (at 8) my letter written last Sunday to Miss McL– [MacLean] mentioning expecting M– [Mariana] for a couple of days and my promise to return with her for a fortnight or 3 weeks about the 31st. Then obliged to come back here for a few days, that it would be the end of January before I should be in London – Surely she would then be ready to return with me –

“I see that you are still, and that enough remains for Paris, and for me? Todo – For me! What can I do? Is it much, or little? ‘How little you still understand me’ – I lament over your thinking so, because perhaps every atom subtracted from your faith in my knowledge of you, may proportionally lessen my power to do you good – We know the efficiency of faith in working wonders – and I, perhaps, in spite of your scepticism, know you yourself better than you think – It is even possible, that I know you not less well than some whose penetration may seem to have more ‘in it of the intuitive and extraordinary’ – At all rates, may I not ask, did you know me well enough to guess, that I should muse over some parts of your last with deeper feelings of regret, then maybe trusted to my pen – There is more in the manner of doing a thing, than we are some times aware –

‘It is visible the fright some of your friends are in . . . . . . . Set your mind at ease, and you of your friends, you may depend on they need not dream even of a possibility of your being obliged to infringe on the liberties of’ – . . . . What was their feeling, Sibbella, when you wrote the above, and the much more connected with it? Perhaps I understand you sufficiently well to guess better than you imagine – At least, I am tempted to venture on asking you, if you understand me well enough for it once to have occurred to you, as your pen was writing on relentless, what would be the impression of pain or pleasure, that it would leave upon my mind –

If there was one single word in my last letter, with which you could, or did find fault, – If there was, at unawares, one single term of expression which might seem wanting in that high consideration which has never ceased to be associated with every sentiment I have ever felt towards you, – I can in no way account for it – Surely, surely Sibella, you do not quite understand me – 1st I mean not to pother you in any way – All I mean is, that I felt your manner of writing less gently considerate than usual, and that you will, in no case, find me less easy of persuasion, than in days of yore – I shall be delighted to see you, in the hope that I can then convince you better than now, that not only you need not ‘repent,’ but need not ‘feel a little vexed that I was so selfish as to accept your most kind invitation’ – ....

‘I would not on any account permit Cameron to come near me’ – I trust, you will soon see, that there is no necessity to carry caution so far as this – You will probably prefer McD– [MacDonald]; and I should therefore offer her to you, as I should offer you anything and everything in my power that I thought would please you best – In fact, Sibbella, my regard for you is a regard which makes me ever anxious for your comfort and happiness; – and to see you happy will probably make me as happy as I am capable of being under my present circumstances –

God grant that I may see you restored to health, in the possession of every blessing that a reasonable person can desire! I do not much like your account of the nervous attack you mention, but trust you will have no repetition of it –

There is one subject on the settling of which so satisfactory to yourself and others I heartily congratulate you – It is not that I do ‘not choose’ to enlarge upon it, but, simply, that I know of nothing to say, that will not be better said, when we meet – Surely we shall cross the water together; for surely, you will be ‘dismissed’ by the end of next month, tho’ the having ‘bile and cough still to send adrift’ makes me not sanguine” –

Then on page 3 little chit chat, answers to the different, other parts of her letter – Sorry for the bad accounts from Han Dieman’s land, etc. etc. Should like to be in the same house with her – Independent of the pleasure of her society “it would save me nearly 1/2 – I should not keep myself and Cameron under 2 guineas a day” –

“ . . . Have you been at Richmond Park? Poor Vere! May she have chosen well; and may she speedily be happy to her heart’s content! But checkered are the paths of life and love; and, after all, ‘tis but to all a vale of shadows in which we walk – Who would be immortal here? None, None, Sibbella, who have felt, and thought, and passed the age of thirty-five! How often those who seemed happiest have sighed in secret, and longed to flee away, and be at rest! But good night! I am beginning to prose – ‘Twere better far to nod’” –

Breakfast at 9 – Meant to have gone to Lightcliffe church, but it began to rain at a few minutes before 10, and no likelihood of fine weather so staid at home – My father went to church in spite of the rain – Staid talking to Marian about his queer temper throwing away of prospects, etc.

At 11 40/60 Marian and I read aloud the whole of the morning service in about 38 minutes – Then staid talking a while and came upstairs at 12 3/4 – Wrote 9 lines small and close at the bottom of page 3 of my letter to Miss McL– [MacLean], and 14 lines on the ends dated today – Her not hearing from me not owing to forgetfulness – Waited as she would – Of course conclude, to tell her something tolerably certain of my plans – Still unable to fix – Had scarcely written the first 3 pages when all was upset – M– [Mariana] prevented coming and I prevented going –

“Know nothing beyond the improbability of my being able to get off from here before the middle of next month, and that I shall avoid the necessity of returning if possible . . . . . . . . . If you understand me at all, you will be quite sure, that neither yourself nor your last letter has been long unthought of –

You have been daily with me in mind, and under graver circumstances of moody musing then you may have dreamed of – For every idle word that you have ever heard me utter, and for every written word that, faithless to my heart and to my intention, may have ever caused you any feeling of vexation, I entreat your forgiveness –

I, at least, ought not to be the one to add in any way to your annoyance or uneasiness; and we will try if it be not possible to make you forget all that it would be doing me a kindness to forget and to remember only what may give me a lasting claim to your good opinion and regard – I hope you will have no reason to repent trusting yourself across the water – But tho’, as you tell me, ‘the idlest of the idle,’ write me one cheering line or 2 as soon as you can, and believe me always your very affectionate friend AL– [Anne Lister]”

Till two and twenty minutes writing the last thirteen lines and what I wrote to Miss MacL[ean]. What will she answer? She does not quite expect all this perhaps. Has thought me huffy. I have treated her with too little romantic loverlike attention of late. Too much as if I had got all I wanted. Can I be more on P’s and Q’s when we next meet? I must try and then we shall doubtless do admirably. One does not like the not being able to get a thing, but otherwise I have had enough of particular intercourse with her –

Sent off by Jno [John] at 2 35/60 my letter to “Miss Maclean of Coll Mrs. W. Reid’s, 13 Nottingham Terrace or Road, London” – From 2 40/60 to 5 50/60 at my accounts – Dressed – Dinner at 6 20/60 –

My father read aloud sermon 6 volume 1 South – I knew little about it, being asleep sitting on the sofa almost all the time – Did not rouse up till 10 – Came upstairs to bed at 10 20/60 damp rainy day from 10 a.m. – Fahrenheit 52º in my room at 10 20/60 p.m. –

Read the following pamphlet lent me on Xmas [Christmas] day by the William Priestleys –

“Evangelical preaching, (commonly so denominated ∴ therefore) its character : errors : and tendency : in a letter to the right reverend the Cardinal bishop of Bath and wells: by the reverend Richard Warner, F.A.S. Honorary member of the Imperial Cæsar Society of natural history moscow; and of the Dutch society of sciences, Harlaem; and Rector of Great Chalfield, Wilts, and of Croscombe, Somerset. Ea si vera sunt, ingenuè ingenii mei tarditatem, qui mon assequor; certè sciens non reluctor veritati, et ex animo faveo libertati vere evangelicæ, et detestor quicquid adversatur evangelio. Eras. de lib. arbit. 3rd edition London : printed for C & J Rivington, St. Paul’s churchyard, and Waterloo-place, Pall-mall, 1828 price 2 /. [shillings]” London : printed by R. Gilbert, St. John’s square.” 8vo [octavo] 6 prefatory pp pages and 31 pp pages of the letter itself

[sideways in margin] Borrowe]d of Mrs. W[illiam] P– [Priestley] Thursday 25 December. Returned Monday 29 December. Reading this pamphlet (good) and writing out its title page as above took me till 10 50/60.

[catalinda04]

Carried Away Chapter 56: Paparazzi, Properties, and Plans

Masterlist

Lucy stared at the publication in her hands. The article detailed her “affair” with Tom Hiddleston right under Henry’s nose, culminating in their “engagement” at the cafe in Hampstead.

“This is creepy. I didn’t even see a photographer. Tom was at the table for maybe 3 minutes.” Lucy said, worry marching across her features.

“They’ll write whatever they want to sell papers.” Will told her.

“Henry, I’m so sorry.” Lucy said, turning to her fiancé.

“Darling, you have nothing to apologize for. These rags are wholly unconcerned with the truth.”

“So what do we do now? Do we acknowledge it? Do we ignore it and hope it goes away? Make an announcement?” Lucy asked.

“I’m usually of the mind of letting it go, these will be in the bin by the end of the day, and they’ll be on to their next piece of celebrity gossip. B…”

Lucy cut him off, “but this article makes me seem like some gold-digging, celebrity chasing, harlot.”

Henry looked at her quizzically, “Harlot? Really? Are we in the court of Louis XVI?” He laughed. Lucy gave him one of her icy teacher looks.

“As I was saying,” Will cut in, “this is almost directly attacking Lucy. And in this case, we have a third party. It doesn’t just affect you two, Tom is involved in this. His reputation is being drug through the mud as well. I feel as though he should get a say in this as well.”

“Someone should call him and let him or his people know what’s going on.” Lucy said.

“I called his publicist on my way over here. He’s probably already talking to Tom.” Will informed them.

“Then let’s get them on the phone.” Henry demanded gently. He picked up his phone and dialed Tom’s number. He activated the speaker and set the phone on the table in front of the three of them.

Tom answered on the third ring. “Hello? Is this my fiancé calling?” He asked, a smile evident in his voice.

Lucy piped in, “Yes, Tom, it is. Though I don’t remember your proposal at all. You’ll have to do a much better job next time.”

“Duly noted.” Tom laughed.

“If you two are done,” Henry cut in.

“Good morning, Henry.” Tom greeted. “Congratulations on your engagement, though apparently it’s my engagement too.”

“Thank you, Tom. What have you and your publicist decided?” Henry asked.

“We decided we would defer to you two. However you decided to handle it, we would follow suit.” Tom announced.

“Thank you, Tom,” Lucy said.

Will spoke up, “then I think our best course of action would be to release a statement, announcing Henry and Lucy’s engagement. I know you two didn’t want to announce just yet, but that’s gone the wayside now. We’ll mention how Tom and Lucy have developed a friendship, nothing more.”

“That sounds reasonable,” another voice spoke from the phone, a female voice, who must have been Tom’s publicist. “We’ll release a similar statement, but not the same, detailing Tom’s help with Lucy’s drama student group, and how it grew their friendship. The rag will have to print a retraction, of course they print those in the smallest font possible, buried in the back of the paper, but it will be there.”

“Thank you, Janette.” Will said to the woman.

“Henry, can I just say, I’m sorry for all of this.” Tom spoke through the phone.

“Tom, you know you have nothing to be sorry for. I’ve been trying to convince Lucy of that all morning. Thank you for letting us take the lead on this. We’re having an engagement party toward the end of the month, before Lucy has to go back to school, we’d love if you could come. My sisters-in-law are throwing the party.”

“I would love to come, but it would depend on the date.” Tom answered.

“When we know the date, we’ll let you know.” Lucy chimed in.

“You two have a great day.” Tom said.

“You as well, Tom.” Henry replied, disconnecting the call.

“I will draft an announcement, and send it to you before we release.” Will said, picking up the paper to throw it into the bin.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep that. I kept the ones from last summer too.” Lucy explained.

“Are you sure it’s not just for the headline?” Henry asked with humor in his voice.

“That may be a small part of it...18 months ago, I would have LOVED seeing my name associated with an engagement to Tom. But then I met you first...don’t get me wrong, I love you, and I’m so excited to begin our life together, this is like a fantasy come true,” she said, holding up the paper.

Henry wrapped a hand around her waist, and pulled her to him, “I thought it was me that made all your fantasies come true,” he murmured suggestively, lowering his mouth to hers.

Will coughed, “I’ll just be going then.”

Henry separated from Lucy to shake Will’s hand and show him out. He returned to the living room to find Lucy texting. He sat next to her to wait while she finished her message. She set the phone on the coffee table, and leaned into Henry’s side. “I just texted mom to let her know it was ok to tell all the aunts and uncles about the engagement. And to warn her if the rumors make it to the US.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” he said, kissing the top of her head

“Henry, I’m sor,” Lucy began.

“Lucy, I’ve told you over and over, you have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t acting inappropriately. You didn’t invite the photographer to take the picture. You were sharing good news with someone you considered a friend.” Henry reassured her.

“Henry? What are we going to do?” Lucy asked, worried.

“About this? Nothing more than what Will sets up.” Henry replied.

“No, about this fall. What are we going to do? I don’t want you to have to be separated from Kal, but my house is not big enough for two people and your giant dog.”

Henry laughed silently, “Cupcake, I am impressed. It took you over two full days to bring this worry out. I’m not happy that I know you’ve been worrying about it since the drive home from Chatsworth House, but I’m impressed that you managed this long before bringing it up again.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” Lucy demanded, sitting up, to look Henry in the eye. “This is serious. I go home in less than three weeks. Then I have just over a week until the school year starts. We need to figure this out, so we have time to make arrangements.”

Henry nodded in agreement. “What are your thoughts. I know you’ve been working on this since Wednesday.”

“You want to live with me in Minnesota. I don’t want you and Kal to be separated for the next 10 months. My house is not big enough for the three of us. Those are the facts. I guess you could rent a house for you and Kal.” Lucy suggested.

Henry’s face became very serious. “Lucy, I don’t want to stay without you. I know I’ve asked you to move to London, but if you genuinely didn’t want to move, I would make it work, to live in Minnesota and keep my career. They say that home isn’t a place, it’s a person. Well you are my home. Wherever I am, with you, feels like home. If I rent a house, I want it to be for the three of us. I’m guessing you’d sell your house when we move to London anyway, why not sell it earlier, and we’ll rent a house together?” Lucy’s face contorted involuntarily. “What’s wrong darling?” Henry asked concerned.

Lucy sighed. “I don’t want to say. It’s going to sound horrible.”

“Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

Lucy’s gaze dropped to her hands, not wanting to look Henry in the eyes as she spoke her thoughts aloud. “What happens to me if I sell my house, if you leave again?” Her voice broke as she finished her thought.

Henry sat stunned for a moment, before crushing Lucy to him, his eyes welling with tears as he thought about the pain he’d put this woman through. He held her as they both wept out their pain. When his eyes had dried, he held Lucy at an arm’s length, and lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Lucy. I will never leave again. You can trust me on this. Did I tell you why I left this winter?”

“You said because you didn’t want to take me from my life.”

“I did say that, and that is true, but it wasn’t the whole reason. The longer I stayed in Minnesota with you, the deeper in love with you I fell. I was beginning to think about what our life together could be like, and I thought about what would happen if I asked you to marry me again, and you said no, again. I guess I was trying to save myself the hurt of another rejection, so I left.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lucy laughed.

“I know it doesn’t. But it's what I was feeling. I didn’t want to be hurt in the future, so I hurt myself then.” He laughed at his flawed logic.

“Things really would have been easier if I had just said yes in December, wouldn’t they.” Lucy laughed.

“Yes, they would have!” Henry laughed.

Lucy let herself laugh, to decompress from the weight of everything they’d discussed. She heaved a deep sigh. “So. I’ll put my house on the market, and you’ll rent somewhere for the three of us to live until at least the end of May?” Lucy asked, wanting clarification

“Yes, that sounds wonderful.” Henry agreed.

“If/when my house sells, I want to pay my fair share of the rent. I don’t want to be seen as free-loading off of you.” Lucy insisted.

“Darling, you don’t have to do that, but if it’s important to you, then we’ll split the rent.” Henry agreed.

They spent the next hour discussing where they wanted to look for a rental. Deciding to try to find a place with some land, to let Kal romp, then looking at local listings to see what would be available. Lucy contacted the realtor she had used to buy her house. She explained the situation, and made an appointment with him to look at houses when she came back to Minnesota.

Olivia and Sienna stopped by the house to inquire about the guest list for the engagement party. Lucy handed over the list and the accompanying addresses.The three women talked a bit about decor and possible menu ideas. They left with promises to have all of the details for Lucy when they met for Thursday lunch.

Henry, who had left not long after the party planning had commenced, arrived home just as his sisters-in-law were leaving. He sent each woman off with a kiss on the cheek and a message for her husband. He found Lucy in the living room poring over her iPad screen. He hung Kal’s leash on it’s hook, went to the kitchen to get two bottles of water, and joined Lucy in the living room. He seated himself beside her to see what had her so absorbed.

She was scrolling through a Pinterest page of wedding ideas. He smiled and reached for the book he’d left on the coffee table. “When do you want to get married?” Lucy asked him before he could open the book.

“Lucy, I would marry you tomorrow if you wanted to,” he answered, kissing her lips lightly.

“Be serious. Olivia and Sienna said that people at the party will want to know wedding details. We need to make some decisions. Other than where, we haven’t talked at all about the wedding. After where the biggest decision is when. So, when do you want to get married?”

“I would rather sooner than later,” Henry said. “I know you would like a Christmas time wedding, but would you be averse to a New Year’s Eve wedding?”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed at him. “How did you know I wanted a Christmas wedding? I’m positive I’ve never mentioned that.”

Henry had the decency to look sheepish. “I was looking for a pen one day, and I came across your bucket list.”

Lucy blushed, and hid her face in her hands. “Oh, god.”

“I don’t remember anything embarrassing on the list. But I do remember ‘Have a Beautiful Christmas Wedding’ being on the list. So I ask again, what about a New Year’s Eve wedding instead?”

“You’re talking New Year’s next year, right? Not the one in less than 5 months,” she clarified.

“No, I mean this coming New Year’s Eve,” he confirmed.

Lucy stared at him for a long moment, “are you on crack? Do you know what goes into planning a wedding? Just over four months is not enough time. Most dresses take at least 6 months to come after you order, then there’s time for alterations. And not to mention, if we announce our engagement now, then announce the wedding is in December, everyone is going to assume that a bouncing super baby will be arriving in April.” She threw her hands up, “not that I’m concerned about that. I’m not pregnant, I would love to be, but not at my wedding.”

Henry just laughed at his fiancé’s tirade. “Darling, you forget. I have money. It’s amazing how much having money can speed any process. While I understand if you want to wait until the summer or even next New Year’s Eve, if it were entirely up to me, I would pick sooner over later. I don’t want to give you too much time to come to your senses,” he smirked at her.

Lucy thought for a long moment. “I would love to start next year married to you. I think it might be possible. The dress is my biggest issue. I know they take so long to come, because someone my size can’t just buy one off the rack. It has to be ordered.”

“I’m sure for the right price, you can have your order expedited.”

Lucy sighed heavily, “there’s a part of me, that is screaming that you shouldn't be paying for my wedding dress. But then there’s this other part that is rationally telling that part, that if you want the sooner wedding, then it will take that money to make it happen. My brain is fighting itself.”

“Don’t think of it as my money, or your money. We are going to be married, it will be OUR money. And if it takes an exorbitant extra fee for you to have the dress of your dreams for our wedding in four months, then I’m willing to pay it,” he explained, pressing a kiss to her lips, before turning to his book.

Lucy typed away on her iPad, making notes about wedding ideas, Henry assumed. “What do you think about cobalt and silver as wedding colors?” Lucy asked, showing him a picture from a Pinterest board.

Henry looked at the picture critically. The bold blue and silver worked well together, and would be fitting for a winter wedding, but something niggled at the back of his brain, until it finally hit him. “Cobalt blue? Are you sure that’s not Tardis blue?”

“No, it’s cobalt. Do you really think I would try to sneak a Doctor Who reference into our wedding?” She asked, her eyes wide in innocence.

“Yes, you would.” Henry answered staring Lucy directly in the eye.

“Ok, so yes, it’s Tardis blue, but it’s a pretty blue. And it’s not like I’m asking to have a Doctor Who wedding. I’m not going to dress up like River Song, or ask you to wear a David Tennant Doctor costume instead of a tux, because I know you wouldn’t do that. You wouldn’t, right?” She asked grinning hopefully.

“No, I would not.” He confirmed.

“It’s just the color. It’s pretty...it works with the season...and it would make your fiancé happy…” she trailed off grinning a big toothy grin at him.

“If that is what you want, darling, I’m not going to deny you it.” Henry conceded.

Lucy leapt across the sofa, wrapping her arms around Henry’s neck, pressing kisses all over his face. She finished with a long deep kiss to his lips. “Thank you Darcy.”

Lucy’s last weeks in London were filled with activity. She and Henry looked at houses online that they might be able to rent for the winter. She met regularly with Olivia and Sienna to finalize plans for the engagement party. She and Henry also discussed plans for the wedding.

One day, about a week after the tabloid incident, Lucy came home from being out. She hadn’t told Henry where she was going, and he hadn’t asked. Henry noticed her demeanor had changed from the morning when she’d left. She didn’t say anything to him; she poured herself a glass of water, and made her way upstairs. When she hadn’t returned half an hour later, Henry went in search of her. He found her sitting crossed legged in her reading chair on the roof; her latest book sitting in her lap, ignored, as she stared off into the distance.

Henry sat at the end of of the lounge chair in front of her. “Darling what’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.

She answered without looking at him, “I went to look at some wedding dresses today.”

“And you didn’t find anything you liked?” He guessed.

“They were mean to me. They ignored me when I walked into the store, then when I did finally manage to get someone to talk to me, they made cracks about not having anything in my size. I told them I didn’t expect that they would, but if I could at least look at some different styles. It wasn’t until I flashed your black card that they started taking me seriously. They brought me a few dresses, which were all hideous, but while I was trying to get into one, by myself, I heard them making bitchy comments to each other about my size, and who would marry someone like me. I stopped trying to get into the dress, put my clothes back on, and left without a word. It just really wasn’t the experience I thought it would be. And I guess I always thought my mom would be there to help me pick out a dress.”

He pulled Lucy into his arms, “darling, I’m sorry that you had to go through that.” His brain whirred as he tried to find a way to mend this for her. “Sarah is coming a few days early for the party, why don’t you two schedule some time to go dress shopping. I’ll text Victoria, if she has any suggestions of shops for you to go to.”

“Thank you Darcy.”

“Anything for you Cupcake.” He replied, kissing her temple.

Lucy avoided looking at wedding dresses until just before the engagement party. Victoria had suggested three shops for her to make appointments with, and she and Sarah were going to spend the day before the party at the three shops.

The day before Sarah and her husband were to arrive, Henry left the house early. He claimed he had a meeting he had to go to, and would be home in time to take her out to lunch. She spent the morning preparing the house for Sarah’s arrival the following day. She put fresh sheets on the guest bed. Went to the shop to have food for everyone, and visited the flower market to put arrangements in most of the rooms on the ground floor.

Around 11:30, Lucy heard the front door open, and Henry call out, “Lucy, could you come help me with this? I found something I thought you would like.”

“Oooh! A present? What is it?” Lucy asked, bounding toward the front door. She stopped dead when she saw her mom and dad standing  just inside the door. Lucy’s eyes filled with tears as she looked from one face to the next.

“Mom, dad, what are you doing here?” She asked hugging them each in turn.

“Henry called and said you were having a hard time picking a wedding dress. He planned this whole thing. And we’re staying until you leave next week. He bought us tickets on the same flight.”

Lucy turned to Henry, “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything darling. I could tell you were depressed about picking a dress without your mum, so I mended the situation.” He grinned.

“I don’t deserve you.” Lucy said, kissing her fiancé.

“On the contrary darling, I’m simply trying to be good enough to deserve you.”

Chapter 55             Chapter 57

[summerfitzy]

i’ve never

Fandom: Skam Ship: Chris x Eva Summary: He doesn’t know when 'hooking up with Eva' turned into 'hooking up with only Eva.' ao3

Chris swore off girlfriends after Iben. Partly because the breakup was a hell of a lot more drama than he signed on for, and partly because—well. C’mon. Who wants a girlfriend when you have all the pleasures and privileges of russ ahead of you. 

(Unless you’re William. Then you decide you’ve found your soulmate right before russ, and devote the better part of the school year to winning her over. Since William is his best friend, Chris thinks he’s allowed to say that the guy is a fucking weirdo.)

Anyway.

He swore off girlfriends after Iben, and has no clue how he seems to have started dating Eva in the time since.

Chris has had his share of girlfriends, so he gets the benefits just fine—the bragging rights that come with dating a hot girl, the regular supply of sex, the etcetera. But there’s plenty to like about not having a girlfriend too. Namely: plenty of girls, plenty less drama, and plenty less injuries after you get caught hooking up with a pretty first year. (He thought sporty was sexy on Iben until he realized how hard the girl could punch.)

It worked out well that Eva seemed to have sworn off boyfriends at the exact same time. Really fucking well and really fucking unexpected. The Eva he first met kept to couches at parties, sulked over her phone, and cried after kissing him. She was hot—damn hot—but didn’t match the girl he traded texts with. The one who teased and flirted and joked. The real Eva wasn’t a hook-up; she was a romantic hipster reunion waiting to happen.

Except it didn’t. Hipster boy started fucking other girls, and Eva stopped sitting at the sidelines of parties. For a while, whenever he saw her, she had her arms wrapped around a new guy’s neck, her lips pressed against a new guy’s mouth, a new girl’s mouth.

Kind of like him.

A lot like him.

It only made sense to start hooking up with her at that point—easier to go for the girls who are looking to keep things casual, and Eva is a fucking good kisser when she doesn’t have tears in her eyes. 

He doesn’t know when hooking up with Eva turned into hooking up with only Eva.

When he starts his second semester at university, he tells himself that things will be different. He’ll stop going to as many high school parties. He’ll try to make some good, actual friends at university rather than comparing every guy he meets to William. He’ll stop hanging out with Eva every weekend.

(But he won’t stop hanging out with her altogether.) (He’s not an idiot.)

It’s just—he went to a fucking Kosegruppa party for her last December, and realized on his way home from her place the next morning that this was not the behavior of a hook-up. Neither was watching movies with her or texting with her more days than not or stealing her away from other drunk, horny guys on nights out. That’s all boyfriend territory, and Chris is a shit boyfriend. Always has been. 

So he texts back, Can’t, the next time she messages him about a ’99 party. Going out with uni friends tonight, he adds, and then finds another girl with auburn hair to pull.

He’s just following Eva’s advice; she’s the one who replied, have fun with a winking emoticon.

There are plenty of girls with auburn hair.

That he likes hooking up with Eva more is the problem.

It’s not that he makes up reasons to text Eva—but he probably didn’t need to tell her that William found a new girlfriend in London, when he really just tried to go out on one date. A reportedly shitty date. But William and Noora were their bridge before they had anything else to talk about—who knows if they would have started hanging out outside of hook ups at all if their best friends hadn’t started dating—so he’s not above using that shared ground to start a conversation.

(When he started pulling away from Eva, he didn’t really stop to think about how, if he eased back on texting her, she might ease back on texting him. That she might pull away too.)

Anyway, maybe Eva will tell Noora about the text, Noora will call William out on it, and William will get his ass back to Oslo. Chris can hope.

He gets another hook-up with Eva out of the conversation, so it’s not like he regrets it.

Stalking someone else now? he texts Eva after seeing a photo of her on Instagram with some guy named Adam, who’s holding a balloon for no reason Chris can guess. He looks like an asshole.

Hahahaha yes, she texts back, you’re always at uni. Needed someone new.

He writes, lucky guy, and then deletes it. You’re still my favorite stalker, then erases it. Should I stop leaving my blinds open at night then, and then sends it.

(“Fucking hell,” Eva pants the next time they fuck. A small, smug smile tugs at his lips when he tilts his head to see her splayed beside him on her side of the bed, still and sweating, her skin a canvas of hickeys. “That was rough.”

“Too rough?”

Eva just rolls her eyes. “Too rough,” she mocks, and then drags his lower lip between her teeth.) 

Back in high school, university girls sounded like one of higher education’s main draws. He doesn’t know why anymore. They’re just like all the other girls he’s been hooking up with since puberty, not intrinsically hotter or wittier or better. Just more conveniently located.

For a while, he refuses to acknowledge why university girls haven’t been doing it for him.

It takes him until nearly the end of the semester to admit to himself that he misses hooking up with Eva on a regular basis, misses watching cheesy movies with Eva, misses texting with Eva, misses being around to pull her against the nearest wall when another guy tries hitting on her. He misses Eva. There. Fine. This whole ‘distance self from Eva’ mess started because he wasn’t comfortable with all the ways he was starting to think of her as his, and now he's annoyed she isn’t.

(He made it to just enough high school English classes to recognize that as irony.)

And he doesn’t only want Eva for the bragging rights or the sex--although they do have damn good sex, and he does want it to happen more often--but because... Fuck. Because he watched her change from a sad girl hiding behind long hair to the life of every party. Because she rolled her eyes with him when William and Noora got too corny, felt just as drained as him when they left for London. Didn’t bail on him when he felt like distracting himself afterwards, whether with tequila shots or Netflix shows. Because she’s Eva, and he’s tried to paint over her with other girls, and it hasn’t worked. It doesn’t even feel worth the effort of trying anymore.

Chris kind of wants to hit his head against a wall. He settles for his headboard.

“You coming?” William asks him, once he finally—finally—flies himself home. Chris is sitting on a leather couch in William’s penthouse flat, not sure what exactly made his best friend come back after all this time, but sure as hell not about to complain.

(Maybe it’s the texts Chris sent him about Eva trying to hook Noora up with someone new a couple months back. Probably that.)

“Bro, I missed you, but I’m not crashing this reunion. You can make it over to your girl’s flat just fine on your own.”

Shrugging into his leather jacket, William shoots him a deadpan stare. “She’s at Eva’s birthday party. Check instragram.”

Chris’s first response is to blink—she hadn’t invited him?—and then to get himself up from the damn couch.

"Stalker,” Eva accuses him once he reaches her after William’s dramatic entrance. His grin was partly for show when he stepped out of William’s car, but feels truer now that he has Eva smiling at him and throwing her arms around his neck.

He picks her up from the ground and spins her around once, enough to make her laugh, because what the hell. Then he gives her a lazy smirk. “Wouldn’t have had to stalk you if you’d invited me to your party.”

Eva raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought our parties were too young for you now,” she teases.

“Fuck that.” Chris wishes he had a wall or column to lean against. That would look cool. “University parties get too much hype.”

“Uh huh.”

Chris slings an arm around her shoulder. “Come to one with me, you’ll see.”

He can tell she’s had more than a few drinks already, because Eva leans easily, loosely against his side.

“Happy birthday, stalker,” he murmurs into her ear.

She looks up to give him a champagne bubble grin. 

“I’ve never…” Eva wrinkles her brow as she gropes for something that she’s neither done nor said yet. Chris will be the first to admit that the game is getting hard—they’ve been playing for a while now, might be the only two left playing. An idea illuminates her face a second later, spreading her lips wide and smoothing her forehead. “Eaten a pickle!”

Chris stares at her. “You’ve never eaten a pickle?” he repeats incredulously after sipping his beer.

“Nope.” Eva giggles until her head falls against his shoulder.

“That’s…” he shakes his head. “That’s the lamest I’ve Never I’ve ever heard. That’s fucking tragic.”

Eva protests that it’s not her fault they’ve already said everything good. Chris tries too hard to think of a basic food he’s never touched, but can’t name one off the top his head.

Not that it matters. They’re both drunk and laughing, and Chris is more than a bit satisfied that Adam and Eva have barely looked at each other since he got here. (Hell, maybe balloon guy has already left.) (Doesn’t matter as long as he doesn’t think he’s leaving with Eva.)

The rest of the night passes in a blur of drinks and dancing and a four person afterparty. Then it’s early morning, and Chris is too tired to do anything other than pass out besides Eva in Noora’s empty bed. (William, no surprise, must have convinced her to stay at the penthouse.)

“Hey,” Eva says or yawns from beside him, “thanks for crashing tonight.”

Chris raises both eyebrows. “Crashing your party or crashing here?”

“Both.” She definitely yawns this time.

Chris swallows, looks over at Noora’s bedside table, sees his last beer sitting there with a few more sips to its name. “Hey Eva,” he says.

She turns her head until she’s facing him, one cheek slurred against her pillow. “Mhm?”

One more I’ve Never for the night.

“I’ve never wanted this to be a real thing,” Chris says before he can scare himself out of it. “Us, I mean.” Then he takes a swig of his beer, keeping eye contact with her all the while.

Eva stares back at him for what feels like minutes but is probably, objectively, only a few handful of seconds. 

She grabs the bottle from him a moment later, and finishes it off.

“I can’t believe my boyfriend didn’t get my a birthday present,” Eva teases the next day, still tangled in bed with him well into the afternoon.

Chris grins when he realizes the word doesn’t make him want to jump out of bed and flee the city. Doesn’t even make him want to get up. “Sounds like a shit boyfriend,” he agrees, pressing his mouth to her neck and then readjusting their positions until his lips are climbing her inner thigh. "Better start making it up to you.”

 (He’ll get her a jar of pickles tomorrow too.)