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dangerouslcve · 4 years

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Unforgiven - Taron Egerton

Pairing: Taron Egerton x reader

Warnings: None.

Summary: There is something so achingly familiar about Taron Egerton. He captures your attention from the moment you see him at Rada, your new acting school. He is the one bright spot in a place where people are constantly judged, the students and staff are rude, and security cameras watch your every move.

Except Taron wants nothing to do with you- he goes out of his way to make that very clear. But you can't ignore nor shake the feeling that you know him. You were being drawn to like a moth to a flame. You need to find out what Taron is so desperate to hide, even if it shatters you...

Read previous chapters on Wattpad @ kayegerton

Disclaimer: I do not know what college is like.. Yet. But I did some intense googling. This story is for entertainment purposes only, it is considered an AU. With that being said, hope you enjoy the story.

Chapter Five - Yard Duty

You sat up in bed the duvet falling around your waist as you rub the sleep away before taking in your small cramped dorm room. It looked like a before shot of one of those flipping houses episodes on television. The long nightmare that had been Monday had finally come back to you, the surrender of your phone, the cafeteria incident with Charlotte, and Taron brushing you off in the library. What it was that made him so spiteful, you didn't have a clue.

You looked out the small window in your dorm which gave you a perfect view of the grounds outside. You never woke up this early before, it was still dark. The sun had yet to peek over the horizon, you couldn't remember whether you ever saw the sunrise. You had always slept in to late to even see it. If you were being truthful something about sunrise always made you feel a bit anxious. It was the waiting moments that made anxiety go through the roof. Looking out at the tree branches swaying gracefully in the wind you begin to feel homesick. What were you going to do for the three hours between the crack of dawn and your first class?

Crack of dawn... why do those word sound so familiar to you... Oh. no. You were supposed to be at detention.

You scramble out of bed tripping over your still packed duffel bag and threw on a boring white shirt with matching black jeans, you cringed as you caught a glimpse of your very messy bed head in mirror trying to fix it the best you could as you dash out the door making your way to the grounds.

Pushing the glass doors open that led to the grounds the chilling fresh air of the early morning welcomed you. You stop for a moment taking in the September air before you walk to the old stage you had cut Azaleas hair the day before. You lean against the rusted side surprised to not see anyone here yet, you wait for a long while before you here foot steps behind you. Quickly you turn around to see a neatly dressed figure approaching you, she wore a white button up blouse and a pencil skirt. Emily!

"Aren't you late?" Emily questions once she is standing before you her hair pinned back only a couple strands hang in front of her face as she crosses her arms giving you a amused smile shaking her head.

"I have been here for ten minutes now," you say raising an eyebrow "Aren't you the one who's late?" Emily smirks. "No way, I'm just an early riser. You know, office duties. I never get detentions." She shrugs pushing the strand of hair out of her face. "But you do my dear and so do the five other unfortunate souls whom are probably becoming angrier by the minute waiting for you at Bliss." she stands on her tiptoes pointing behind the building Azalea had said they called bliss. If you squinted you could make out a group of black figures clustered around the back.

"Florence just said meet at the open theater." you sigh in defeat. "No one told me where to go."

"Well I am telling you. Now get over there," Emily says "You're not going to make many friends by cutting into their mornings before classes. Today is a busy day darling, we start theatre." You gulped cracking your knuckles as you stall looking over to Bliss. It felt like a yard away. "Y/n." Emily said giving your shoulders a shove "You are still standing here."

You gave her a sad smile before you hurried across the grounds to the open theatre. By the time you cleared the section of trees you came upon another section of them. You were lost which seemed impossible but you were. You had stopped running, trying to catch your breath before you heard voices. If you calmed down enough you could hear voices.

"Five more minutes and then I'm out mate." someone says and you hear a scoff.

"Too bad your opinion has no Value Roland."

Azalea.

"Unless everyone would like to loose privileges to the one hour on your phone," Mr Fox voice booms emitting groans from around the yard. "I suggest we all wait patiently until Miss L/n graces us with her presence."

"I'm here!" You gasp finally rounding the back of the rather large building once up close to it. He stood staring at you with his arms crossed over his chest. Behind him were, Azalea, Roland, and Charlotte scattered around the yard and leaning up against a tree across the yard, his legs crossed at the ankle you almost hadn't noticed was Taron. He was wearing a button up tan plaid sweater over a white shirt with matching black jeans. You took in his messy golden brown hair which looked like it had not been smoothed down after sleep, which made you think what he actually looked like when he was sleeping, which made you you blush so intensely that by the time your eyes made their way down from his hair to his eyes you were thoroughly humiliated. By then....He was glaring at you.

"I'm sorry," You blurt out looking away from Taron to Mr. Fox "I thought we were supposed to meet somewhere else I swear-"

"Save it Miss L/n. You have wasted enough of our time." he snaps before turning to the rest of the group. Your eyes landed on Taron again and you wonder how he got in this spot. "Now I'm sure you all remember whatever despicable indiscretion you committed to find yourself here and you can think about that for the next two hours while you work. Pair up." he says before glancing over at you and letting out a breath. "Who wants the prodigy?"

To your horror all the students looked at their feet but then after a tortuous minute a fifth student steps into view around the corner of the building.

"I do."

Cam. His white V-neck shirt fit around his broad shoulders. He stood almost a foot taller than Roland who stepped aside as Cam pushed past making his way to you. His eyes were glued to you as he strode over to you smoothly and confidently. Part of you wanted to avert your eyes because it was embarrassing the way Cam was staring at you in front of everyone, but for some reason, you were mesmerized by his beautiful blue eyes you couldn't break his gaze until Azalea stepped between them.

"I already called dibs on her." she says placing her hands on her hips. Cam glared at her.

"No you didn't." he says before his glare is sent in a different direction....at someone else.

"Yes I did. You just didn't hear me from my perch back there. I want her." Azalea says quickly.

"I-" Cam begins to respond looking away from whom ever he was staring at. Azalea cocked her head to the side expectantly. You swallowed, was he going to say he wanted you too? Cam pats your arm smiling. "I will catch up with you later, okay?" he said to her before walking away joining the group who was grabbing equipment. You follow staying beside Azalea who wordlessly throws you a towel. "So. Avenging warrior or embracing lovers?" she asks grabbing herself a towel and a bucket of water. There was no mention of yesterdays events or of Azaleas note and you felt you shouldn't bring it up to her right now. Instead you glanced over at the stage that were flanked by decorative white Greek statues. A man and a woman embracing each other, his stone arm wrapped around her waist perfectly as her stone hands rest on his chest as they are forever stuck in a passionate kiss. It was hard to look at the embracing lovers and not think of Taron. Taron. Who hated you. If you needed any further proof of that after he basically bolted from the library last night, all you had to do was think back to the fresh glare you had gotten from him this morning.

"Where is the avenging warrior?" you ask with a sigh and Azalea smirks.

"Good choice." she says leading you to the stage down below making her way to the stage. It was a beautiful statue the man had angelic features with a sword in his hand pointed into the base of the concrete that held him in. Its robe flowed behind him exposing his muscles. It looked like it would have been worth some money but it was muddy and old with dirt stuck to it.

"I don't get it." you say looking down at the towel in your hand before turning to Azalea watching her place the bucket down gently. "What do we do?"

"Give him a bath." She grins dunking the small towel into the water ringing it out before crawling up onto the statue as if it were a sturdy tree for her to climb. Terrified of getting in any more trouble from Mr. Fox you dip the towel into the surprisingly cold bucket of water, ring it out, and get to work scrubbing the base of the statue. After about an hour of brutal work the sun filtered through the trees making you instantly feel lighter. You could see more than ten feet in front of you. You could see Taron...working with Charlotte. Your heart sank, the airy feeling had disappeared.

"Hey!" you whisper loudly up to Azalea, she put her finger to her lips and patted the spot next to her on the warriors arm. With much less gracefulness you grabbed the arm of the warrior and swung yourself up onto the other arm once you were certain you were not going to fall backwards and tumble to the ground you whispered "So... Are Taron and Charlotte friends?"

"No way." Azalea snorts shaking her head. "They seriously hate each other." she speaks quickly. "Why do you ask?"

You pointed to the two of them, they were doing no work whatsoever. They were standing close close to each other leaning on their rakes having a conversation you so desperately wished you could hear.

"It's detention." Azalea deadpans. "You have to pair up. Do you think Roland and Mr Chester the Molester are friends?" she pointed at Roland and Cam who were arguing over which one to clean on their work with the lovers statue. "Detention buddies do not equal real buddies." you could feel your face falling even though you try to hide it the best you can. She sighs.

"Look Y/n I didn't mean.." she trails off. "Okay besides the point you wasted a good twenty minutes of my morning I have no problem with you. In fact I think your sort of interesting. But making friendships here just ain't that easy, most of the kids here have parents who are bankers and live on million dollar properties. People are here because they can afford to be here and they don't mind being stuck up about it either ya get me?"

You shrug, feeling embarrassed. "It was just a question."

"Always so defensive." Azalea snickers laying the towel down crossing her legs looking over at you. "How the hell did you end up getting transferred here anyways?"

You roll your eyes hopping down to the base of statue pulling your hair to the side grabbing the towel. Azalea follows you down taking the towel out of your hand.

"Ou tell me." She taunts and you sigh narrowing your eyes at her as she smirked

"Beats me. I was fine at the conservatoire. Can't exactly remember the details but apparently Rada was a better choice for me. Pretty sure they thought I was mad for wanting to stay in Scotland." you say with a smile but it felt forced. You felt her place her hand on your shoulder squeezing gently and for a second her faced look very sincere, then it changed back into a smirk.

"We are so misunderstood aren't we?" she says poking you in the side. "You know, Roland and I were just talking about how we don't have any friends who are semi pyro. And everyone knows you need a good pyro to pull off any drama school prank worth the effort." She was scheming already. "Roland thought maybe that other new kid, Zane, but I'd rather cast my lot with you. We should all collaborate sometime."

You watch her in shock. a Pyro?! you weren't that at all. But you were done talking about your stranger of parents.

"Ooh, wait until Roland hears," Azalea said, throwing down your towel she had taken from you. "You're like our dream come true." you open your mouth to protest but she had already taken off to Roland and Cam who were further away than you realized.

Alone again. You looked up at the statue which looked a little better from where you had worked for the past hour. But the strangest thing happened, you felt this gut feeling like something big was going to happen. Your eyes fall on Taron who was now working on the yard, his muscles flexing under his plaid button up shirt as he stabs the wooden stick into trash that rolled into the yard. You needed to handle this Taron thing, you had known him for one day and already you could feel your slipping into this very strange and unfamiliar place.

"Probably best to stay away from him." a cold voice from behind you says. You whipped around seeing Charlotte stand behind you her arms crossed her mouth set in a hard line. You take one step back, scared she might take a heel down on your foot again.

"Who?" you ask, knowing full well you would sound stupid.

Charlotte rolls her eyes, "Just trust me when I say that falling for Taron would be a very, very bad idea." before you could answer she was gone. But Taron - it was almost like he heard his name - was looking straight at you. Then walking towards you. You tried to break his stare but you couldn't, you couldn't look away. Your heart began to pound against your rib cage as your legs begin to tremble. You wanted to pick up the towel that Azalea had threw on the ground and pretend you didn't see him coming but it was too late to play it cool.

"What did she say to you?" He asked.

"Um." you mumble racking your brain for a believable lie you could tell him, finding nothing. You crack your knuckles. Taron cupped his hand over yours.

"I hate it when you do that."

You jerked away instinctively. His hand on yours had been so short yet you felt your face flush. He meant it as a pet peeve, that cracking knuckles from anyone would bother him...Right? Because to say he hated it when you did that implied that he had seen you do it before and he couldn't have. He barely knew her.

But why did this feel like a fight they have had before.

"Charlotte told me to stay away from you." you say finally. Taron tilts his head from side to side seeming to consider this.

"She's probably right." he says looking into your eyes and you felt a chill run down your spine as you turn to the statue behind you. A low hum came from up top. "what is it?" he says following your gaze. You shake your head.

"Nothing."

"So are you going to do it?" he asked crossing his arms over his chest. A dare.

"What?" you ask him confused.

"Are you going to stay away from me?"

It almost sounded like he was flirting with you. You tried to calm your racing heart. You were totally unprepared to flirt back.

"I guess so." You say taking a step back from him.

"Didn't hear you." he whispered raising an eyebrow taking another step closer. You backed up again farther this time, your back slamming against the base of the statue and then the low hum from up top of the statue from earlier become a deep heavy low groan startling the both of you down below as the statue teetered above them. Both of you knew it was on its way down. Slowly the statues head bowed in a prayer before it picked up its speed as it hurtled down. You felt Taron wrap his arm around your waist instantly pulling you against his chest like he knew exactly where she began and where she ended, his other hand went to the back of her head moving both of them out of the way in time as they fell to the ground as the statue toppled beside them. You stare into his eyes, both of you were panting, noses to nose. Taron's eyes laced with fear as he studies your face. "Y/n.?" he asks and all you can do is nod. "I'm so sorry." he looked pained, like something had just stabbed him.

"Y/n!" Cam yells his tone filled with fear. Taron was already on his feet, didn't even turn around to see whether you were okay or not. He just walked away. Cam helps you up, his eyes scanning over you. "I saw the statue coming down and I ran over here as fast as I could but... You must have been so scared." You watch Taron go, feeling hurt that he never asked to see if you were okay. No one else seemed to care that he bailed. Mr. fox runs over his face pale.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I don't know.. One minute we were just standing there," you correct yourself. "I was just standing there working and the thing just came down." He bends down looking at the statue shaking his head.

"The thing was old, it was bound to happen. You are just lucky you got out of the way in time." he says and you couldn't focus on him. You focused on the voice just inches away from your ear. It was Charlotte just inches away from your shoulder.

"Looks like someone should start listening when I give advice."

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Hey guys! Thanks for reading, I know some of you may be confused. This is an AU, so not everything will be accurate. :) just thought I would clear things up.

Tag list: @primaba11erina @fuseburner @turkish276 @hitmeonmytspot

Want to be added to the tag list? Let me know!

#taron egerton imagine #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton #taron x you #taron x reader #taron egerton x reader #taron imagine #taron fanfiction #taron

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nikkzwrites · 4 years

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Yesterday Once More | Dark Fix-It Fic Series | Chapter 4

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah.

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence, Suicide Mentions, Cutting, Violence.

Word Count: 6.7k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter][Next Chapter]

Black holes are considered to be the hellmouths of the universe. Those who fall inside disappear. Forever. But whereto? What lies behind a black hole? Along with things, do space and time also vanish there? Or would space and time be tied together and be part of an endless cycle? What if everything that came from the past were influenced by the future?

Helge sat in his tree of life chair repeating, “Tick-tock. Tick-tock.” The old man with a damaged eye trying to come to terms with the man standing in the entrance of the caves looking out into Winden.

The forest was still. The town was still until Franziska stormed out of her room. “That sneaky little bitch,” she whispered to herself before she screamed across the house, “Ellie! Where’s my lipstick?!”

This caused both Charlotte and Peter to emerge from their rooms across from each other. They awkwardly greeted each other. Peter explained he was going to stop to see Helge before work. Charlotte nodded and agreed to take Elisabeth to school in that case. Then they both walked to follow their elder daughter to try and break up the fight.

Annalise tossed and turned in her bed. She was still having nightmares, but at least she was trying to sleep on her own. She couldn’t stop getting the images of Mikkel, Erik, the boy the found, and her father out of her head. Everything kept feeling connected and she had no idea why, but her nightmares kept stringing them together in each exaggerated way after the next. Her phone had other plans for her though and started to go off with notifications. Annalise shot up in a cold sweat and panted. She turned slowly to her phone and stared at it. She slowly picked it up to reveal that Bartosz was bothering her about Martha again.

‘I know you are probably shoving some Kahnwald sausage down your throat, but don’t let that be the reason you don’t reach out to Martha. She definitely probably needs you.’ The boy had texted her.

Annalise’s nose scrunched at his lack of decency. She silently thanked him for waking her up from her horrible sleep though. She texted her friend’s boyfriend back with a slight tint of pink across her cheeks, ‘Please don’t assume inappropriate things about me.’ She stood up though and started to get ready for the day.

Jonas stared at the maps of the caves of Winden. It lay there sprawled on his crossed legs. ‘Where is the crossing?’ kept calling to him. He had no idea what this meant, but a part of him felt as though this was very familiar. He decided to fold up the map and put it into his bag.

Elisabeth was reading an astronomy book when her sister yelled at her, “There you are, you stupid cow!” Franziska ripped the book away from her and yelled while signing, “Where is my red lipstick?”

Elisabeth signed back, “I don’t have your stupid lipstick. I’m only eight. I don’t use lipstick.”

Franziska argued, “You may be able to fool those two upstairs with your puppy dog eyes and your pitiful deaf-and-dumb act, but I don’t buy it.”

A coy smile grew on the younger sister’s face as their mother walked in. Charlotte looked to Elisabeth and asked, “Have you packed your backpack? I’ll drive you.” She turned to her older daughter and asked, “Shall I take you too?”

“Am I a baby or what?” Franziska snarked.

Elisabeth signed to her mother, “Because of Mikkel?”

“Yes, because of Mikkel,” the mother signed back.

Elisabeth asked, “Do you know who stole him?”

Charlotte replied, “I won’t discuss police work with you.”

“I don’t like Mikkel,” Elisabeth signed to her mother, “He’s a show-off and a jerk. I don’t really care if he ever comes back.” She crossed her arms and fell back more into the sofa.

Hannah threw her phone down as she smoked in the kitchen. Her legs tucked inside of her red sweater. She smiled seeing Jonas come down the stairs, “Hey!” She cheerfully greeted her son. Annalise had left a little earlier so Hannah was grateful for this time alone with Jonas. “Where are you going,” she asked.

“To school,” Jonas lied.

Hannah shrugged and offered, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can call them.”

“I’m fine,” Jonas told his mother.

Hannah started to rock herself holding in tears, “Jonas?” She then tried to offer, “We could also do something nice together. Just the two of us.”

Jonas stared at his mother. It was such a tempting offer. He rarely had got the opportunity where he could just spend time with her. “Mom,” He complained. He hated this feeling of having to decline the offer, but he needed to see about the map he had found in his father’s studio.

“Okay,” Hannah let the subject drop and allowed him to leave.

Peter sat next to his father in his retirement home. Helge was acting quite strangely. He called his father, “Dad? You can’t keep walking out.”

“I have to tell him,” Helge muttered to himself.

Peter sighed and asked, “Tell who what?”

Helge just repeated, “I have to tell him. It has to stop. It has to stop. It has to...”

Peter reached out his hands and clasped them around his father’s shaking ones. He felt so guilty, but he pushed a little bit and asked, “What has to stop?”

“Tick-Tock,” Helge replied, “Tick-Tock.” Peter pulled away from his father and sighed. He placed his hands in his lap and stared at them. Helge slowly reached out his hand to caress his son’s cheek, “Don’t be sad.”

Jonas walked through the woods trying to get to the caves. He wanted to have enough time where no one would suspect anything so he walked quickly. A sweet almost like a lullaby of a song stopped him though. Someone was singing. He stood there frozen in terror as he just listened to the melodic tune. It was a feminine voice. It was singing in English. He sighed realizing who it was.

Annalise sat on a large rock humming and singing to herself. With the birds chirping all around, she decided she was going to try and sing hoping that Mikkel would hear it and follow it back to her. She closed her eyes as she started,

“Why do birds suddenly appear

Every time you are near?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you

Why do stars fall down from the sky

Every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.”

Leaves crutched and scurried away causing Annalise to stop. She looked towards the noise to see Jonas standing there. Jonas looked at the girl. He knew this wasn’t too far into the sun’s rise, but for some reason, he felt as though the sun was making its way back down to go to sleep. The dewy morning light glistened off of her. He felt as if he had walked into a scene where a guardian angel was trying their best to look after their chosen human. The light from above also cast a darling halo on her hair. Her tender tears rolled down her beautiful face and reflected the distilled light from the canopy of leaves above. Jonas swallowed his hitched breath and asked, “Are you okay?”

Annalise slowly raised her hand to touch her cheek suddenly understanding that she was crying. She swallowed and nodded, “Yeah… I’m just…” She stared up at the leaves above them for a second and said, “I was just singing a song my Bube sang to my Zayde who sang it to my mom who sang it to my dad who sang it to me. It’s one of my favorite songs.”

“Do…” Jonas paused and tried to gain his courage back up again, “Do you want to continue?” He sat down next to the rock so that way they could look up at the beams of sunlight together. His head basically being near her lap level due to the height of the rock.

Annalise nodded and took a deep breath. She closed her eyes again as she started to sing once more.

“On the day that you were born the angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold And starlight in your eyes of blue.”

Jonas’s eyes closed as he listened to her sing. Her family had the right song to pass down. He leaned his head against the rock.

While singing, Annalise ended up readjusting on the rock to lay on her stomach. She held herself up with her elbows and kicked her legs up into the air, her ankles hooked together, to let them sway with her. Her hands and face not too far from the blond’s head now.

“That is why all the girls in town

Follow you all around

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you”

Annalise slowly absentmindedly gently combing her fingers through the boy’s sand-colored hair. Her eyes closed allowing her heartache about losing Mikkel and her father flow through her crying. Jonas let the tune envelop him and soon found himself humming along. His breathing slowed as a small smile crept across his face. Lost in the moment with each other in the stillness of the forest.

“On the day that you were born the angels got together

And decided to create a dream come true

So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold And starlight in your eyes of blue

That is why all the girls in town

Follow you all around

Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.”

Jonas slowly found his voice and sang along with the girl trying his best to not seem too far off. He was about a beat behind, but he still tried and actually got the repeat.

“Just like me, they long to be

Close to you.”

The two sat in quiet while Annalise pulled her hand away from playing with his hair. She turned over onto her back and looked up at the sparkling tree cover around them. Jonas sighed contently. Longing for her contact once more, he leaned his head against the top of her head. It wasn’t too long before he heard the whimpering of Annalise’s soft sobs. He slowly stood up and wiped her tears from her face, “Hey… Annalise.” He waited until she looked at him. Jonas smiled gently and said, “You should do that more often?”

Annalise laughed. She looked up at him with a small smile, “Sing or cry?”

Jonas shrugged, “Both?” He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs once more. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. He left it there as he whispered, “I need to go. Will you be okay?”

Annalise swallowed her sorrow and nodded against his forehead. A small squeaked voice replied to him, “Sure. Yeah.”

Jonas asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” She smiled gently at him and started laughing a little bit.

Jonas pulled away gently and slowly, “What?”

Annalise’s eyes filled with tears, but she wiped them away as she explained, “I used to do the same thing to Mikkel when he was upset because my Zayde and mother did it to me.”

Jonas chuckled and said, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Annalise waved him off as he walked back going to the caves once more.

Jonas took the map out of his bag as soon as he was out of sight of Annalise and made his way to the cave. He looked around now more paranoid hoping that no one had followed him. He looked down at the map then peered upwards once more. He pulled the police line up and walked into it unknowingly being watched by the bearded stranger.

The man looked down at his watch then looked back up towards the caves.

Charlotte knelt in front of her daughter and explained that she was going to be the one to pick her up after school. She noticed her daughter trying to look past her at another young boy. She looked at Elisabeth and asked, “Who’s he?”

“Yasin,” Elisabeth replied, “We’re dating.”

Charlotte stood up a little surprised at what her eight-year-old was telling her, “You are doing what?”

Elisabeth rolled her eyes thinking to herself that she shouldn’t have to explain what that meant to her mother, “Yasin is my boyfriend. That’s how you say it nowadays.”

“Well then…” Charlotte started.

Elisabeth smiled and pulled her mother’s forehead against her own and held Charolette there for a moment before kissing her head and running to meet up with the boy.

“A web of symbols and references runs through the novel,” the professor lectured his literature class. Franziska sat in the front doodling instead of taking notes. “The ‘sycamores by the sea’ are an example of symbolism. A special form of Goethe’s work is what we call doubling. The characters consciously and unconsciously…”

The door opened interrupting the lecture. Magnus walked in and stared at Franziska for a second before moving to take the seat behind her.

“Magnus, this isn’t your class,” the professor scolded.

Magnus stared at him and commented, “Won’t you continue?”

“Where was I…” The instructor continued as Franziska turned to look at the boy behind her, “Symmetry is a special kind of doubling. The repetition is mirrored along a central axis. So the repetition begins at an imaginary center point and branches off in two opposing directions. There are several encrypted references to later events in the novel.” Franziska looked down at her phone to check the time and saw a message there. “Ottilie’s starvation, for example, is referenced in the third chapter part one, as her “excessive abstemiousness in eating and drinking.” This reference is again repeated later.”

Franziska stood up and explained, “I have to go to the bathroom.” The teacher excused her. Franziska hurried out the door and put on her bag looking back at Magnus.

Magnus waited until she was completely out the door before he started to follow her.

The medical examiner opened up the bird after a few notes. She asked Charolette about the boy that they had recently found.

“Mikkel,” Charlotte asked before replying confused by the other woman’s intention, “Disappeared off the face of the Earth.”

“No, not Mikkel,” She clarified, “The dead boy.”

“Oh. Yes,” Charlotte realized, “No. We ran everything through the missing persons database. No match.”

The examiner then asked if everything as alright with her police chief.

Charlotte said yes at first then recanted. She then explained how all of this felt exactly as it did 33 years ago.

Jonas sat in the dark with his flashlight looking at his map. He looked up at one of the openings and decided he should try and take that one. He walked through terrified as if something was going to jump out at him like in those campy horror movies they always played on Halloween. He looked back down and checked his map again before continuing on.

Charlotte walked through the station when Woller stopped her. They had a very short conversation about trying to find out the boy’s identity and to start checking the database for a longer period of time than they initially had checked. He did give her a small clue about a red soil that must have come from the scene of the crime before Charolette had stormed off.

Katharina sat in her son’s room. She was trying to hold herself together and her family together. She watched as Ulrich finally woke up from sleeping in Mikkel’s bed. He blinked and looked around.

“What time is it,” Ulrich asked panicked.

“Just past ten,” Katharina replied. As Ulrich sat up Katharina told her husband, “Charlotte called. She still doesn’t have a search warrant for the power plant.” Katharina sighed and told her husband, “It’s been nearly 36 hours, Ulrich.” She had been an officer’s wife long enough to know the time span of these sorts of incidents.

Ulrich stood up and stormed out of his son’s room.

Martha looked to Annalise and whispered, “Tomorrow is my dress rehearsal, Lise.”

Annalise smiled at her friend and asked, “Do you want me to go?”

“Yeah,” Martha nodded, “I’ve been working really hard on it and I just want…” She sighed and asked, “May you come to watch me?”

Annalise’s brow scrunched up in confusion, “Yeah.” She whispered noticing that their professor was starting to catch on, “I am here to support you through whatever.”

Martha nodded and asked, “Can you move back home? The house just feels too empty without you there too.”

Annalise smiled, “Of course.” She clasped her hands around her friends and used her thumb to stroke her friend’s hand. She interlaced her fingers with Martha’s and let it hang down.

Franziska walked through the forest to make well on her deal with Benni. She walked vert deliberately through going to the train tracks. She could feel herself being watched, but could not be able to find the person responsible. Magnus walked on the higher part of the land mirroring the way she walked to keep a close eye on her. This wasn’t an uncommon practice for him. Being the eldest of two other siblings plus a host to a new foreign friend, this skill was honed in with near perfection. He watched as Franziska bent down and took a package from a tin that was covered with leaves. Franziska gently placed the tin back and recovered it.

Ulrich walked up to the fence of the nuclear power plant determined to have his son back. He had his bolt cutter hidden with a drop blanket so that the cameras didn’t catch him and alert the guards immediately.

Jonas continued his way through the caves. His mouth was wide with awe and wonder. When he realized he had reached a dead-end, he cursed to himself. He checked his map again to see what he was missing.

Helge sat and repeated to himself, “The beginning is the end, and the end is the beginning.” His eyes closed as he repeated the phrase. He, then, heard two voices of nurses talking about having found a boy in the woods.

Annalise forced a smile as she watched Martha go to her next class. This was one of the ones they actually didn’t share. She walked into the class to see Bartosz smirk and motion for her to sit with him. The girl rolled her eyes but sat next to him anyway, “What Bartosz?”

He laughed and pulled a dead leaf from the girl’s hair. Annalise squinted, had she had that the entire time and no one else noticed? Bartosz leaned on his elbow looking at her. “I was wondering if you talked to Martha today,” He chuckled.

“Yeah,” Annalise nodded, “But what am I? My best friend’s keeper? You are getting really creepy about this.” She turned to face forward.

Bartosz’s face dropped. His heart sank knowing that she was right. He was acting a bit obsessive, but no one was talking to him since the accident. Martha had Magnus, Magnus had Franziska and vise visa, Jonas and Annalise also had each other. Why should he be left out? His chair squeaked as he leaned over to her. He hoarsely breathed into her ear, “Is it wrong that I want someone, the person I am supposed to have this with, to share my feelings? To hold them while we watch the world crumble around us?”

Annalise turned to look at the boy in surprise. She could understand that feeling on some level. A tightness clenched her chest. Maybe she should talk to Jonas when they got home to try and get him to spend time with the boy that was supposedly his best friend.

Franziska made her way back into the school. She walked into the locker room, put away the money in her bag, and changed to get ready for her class.

Jonas, having given up for the day, walked back to his bike. He noticed something strange about it. He knelt down and pulled a red string off of the handlebar. Two ends dangled from a knot about halfway up the loop. The boy stood up and started to look around anxiously trying to find a suspect to who may have left this.

Magnus followed the girl back into the school. He watched as she exercised in her dance class. He tried to formulate what he was going to tell her.

After a series of clues, Charlotte found her way to the family’s cabin. She knelt down realizing that this road had the red dirt one of her investigators had told her about. She cleaned her hands of the dirt and answered a call from her medical examiner. The birds had burst eardrums on both sides. All the birds did. Apparently, the Electromagnetic fields interfere with the bird’s sensory systems.

Elisabeth sat talking to Yasin after school. She was telling him about what she had learned about the reproductive habits of snails that she had learned from a documentary on television. Yasin laughed with her until he heard his mother calling to him that it was time to go.

Yasin’s mother looked worried at Elisabeth and asked, “Do you need a ride home?”

Elisabeth shook her head and replied, “My mom’s picking me up.”

“I’ll drive you home,” The mother tried to insist, “It’s not a problem.”

Elisabeth shook her head again, “My mom will be here any moment now. She’s the chief of police.”

Yasin’s mother nodded accepting the girl’s answer and walked to her car with her son trailing behind.

Meanwhile, Charlotte broke into her husband’s cabin. She looked around for any clues. Seeing nothing out of place, she walked out to the bunker. She opened it up and walked down. While she was down there, she got a call about Ulrich.

Franziska walked into the locker room after her class. She walked to her bag noticing instantly that something was off. She turned to see Magnus standing there with the money in his hand.

“Franziska, what is this,” he asked motioning towards the money in his hand.

Franziska angrily replied, “Money, you idiot. My money.”

“Why do you have so much money,” Magnus questioned, “Are you dealing drugs? Is that why you were at the caves?”

Franziska grabbed the money from him and turned to put it away, “How I earn my money is none of your damn business.”

“What are you going to do with it,” the boy asked walking closer to her again.

“What am I going to do with it,” Franziska yelled, “I’m getting out of this phoney shithole. Behind everyone’s friendly smile there’s nothing but lies.”

Magnus chuckled and shook his head, “You’re no different. You pretend to be the straight-A student, but that’s not you. Maybe you should start telling the truth.”

Furious, Franziska asked, “Do you want the truth?” She shrugged and said her voice getting louder and louder as she continued, “Fine. My parents have slept in different beds for over a year. My mom found out my Dad’s actually into dicks. Their marriage is over, but no one will say it.” Her voice started to lower in frustration, “Instead, this big fat secret is always with us at the table. It eats our bread rolls, the butter, the homemade jam. It gets fatter and fatter until there’s no space left in the room.” She pushed the boy away, “Until you can’t breathe.”

Magnus looked at the girl. He had never felt so tied to someone before. He knew exactly what she was talking about. He wandered closer to her and placed his hand on her cheek. The boy looked at her silently asking if she wanted to do the same. She leaned closer to him giving him all he needed to know. Magnus leaned down and kissed her. Their passionate kiss fueled with this sense of finally curbing a craving they had long harbored. They were hungry to feel each other to fully have someone that truly understood and loved them.

Peter worked at his desk. He answered a call from his wife and asked, “Did you forget something?”

“No,” Charlotte replied, “You have to pick Elisabeth from school. I can’t make it.”

“I have a patient,” Peter pleaded, “I have to go to the office.”

“Just pick her up, okay?” Charlotte asked him, “She can wait at your office. I have to go to the power plant.”

Peter nodded, “Okay. I’ll pick her up.” He was just about to leave when Charlotte brought up a very painful memory. He couldn’t handle that on top of lying to her about not knowing anything about the boys so he made an excuse and went to try and pick up his daughter.

Elisabeth, bored, pulled out a small tube from her pocket. She played with the tube in her hands before opening it to reveal that it was the same red lipstick that Franziska was yelling at her about earlier that morning. Elisabeth put some of it on, then put it back into her pocket. Now frustrated from how long it was taking, she stood and started to walk her way home like she normally did before Mikkel went missing.

Rain fell across Winden giving Helge a perfect opportunity to slip out of the building. He walked back into the woods trying to find himself.

Elisabeth skipped through the rain. She stopped noticing an old Raider wrapper. She had never seen this before. It looked nearly identical to Twix. She wondered if it was just some kind of a ripoff.

Peter jogged up to his daughter’s school and asked one of the teachers if she had seen Elisabeth because he was there to get her. The teacher seemed confused and told him that school had let out early so she thought the girl had already gotten picked up. Peter panicked hearing this information and jogged back to his car in hopes of trying to find his daughter.

Aleksander walked with Charlotte explaining, “Security found him on our grounds, close to the caves. He must have climbed over the fence.” Charlotte nodded as she followed the director to his office to reveal Ulrich sitting, bloodied, guarded by an armed security guard. Charlotte turned to Aleksander who explained, “He hasn’t been very cooperative.”

Charlotte turned to the man and forced him to get into her car with him so that way she could drive him home. They sat in silence most of the way until Charlotte couldn’t hold it in anymore, “You’re lucky Aleksander isn’t pressing charges. Everyone understands your situation. Everyone! But climbing over the fence?”

“Understanding is nice, thank you,” Ulrich sarcastically remarked. He continued, “But it’s not enough.” He felt as if he was back 33 years ago. His heart ached. He looked at Charlotte and growled, “My child is gone, okay?” He didn’t know if he was actually saying it to her or himself or to Egon, “This isn’t just some file on your desk. It’s my child.” He looked out the window, “Why Mikkel? I keep asking myself that. Why him? Why my son? Why not his son? Why not his?” He sighed, “I’m being punished. And all I get is fucking sympathy. Well, you can take that and shove it. Where’s the search warrant? Why is no one doing anything? Should I tell you why? Because it’s not his kid. And because it’s not your kid.” He stopped and then said, “Stop here. I want to get out.”

Charlotte ignored him figuring he was just trying to be more emotionally dramatic.

“Stop the car,” Ulrich demanded.

Charlotte safely stopped the vehicle allowing the man to get out to walk in the rain. She watched him go for a second. She noticed her phone ringing. She answered it and asked, “Yes?”

A panicked Peter replied to her, “Elisabeth wasn’t there.”

“What do you mean she wasn’t there,” Charlotte asked growing concerned.

“She wasn’t at school,” Peter sobbed into the phone, “Mrs. Clemens is sick. She wasn’t waiting there. I’ve been up and down the forest road twice already and she’s not here.”

Charlotte tried to reason with him, “Maybe someone from school took her home? Maybe Yasin? Go back home. Maybe she went a different way. Call everyone in her class. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Martha and Annalise laughed as it started to rain on them. They ran down the sidewalk trying to splash each other. Annalise had wanted to walk Martha home just to make sure Martha wasn’t alone. Now they were taking this time to let out some frustration they couldn’t around everyone else. They were screaming and laughing just like they used to do. The two girls danced around each other trying to just have fun with the other. Soaking wet from just messing around in the rain, they listened as their feet caused more splashing. Their hearts felt connected and cleaned for the first time in days. Martha, at one point, slipped and dragged Annalise down with her laughing. The two girls illuminated the world with their smiles. The gray hue didn’t disturb their vibrancy of life. Eventually, they tired themselves out and walked together arm in arm to Martha’s.

When they got back to the Nielsen home, Katharina rolled her eyes and called to the girls as they ran upstairs to go and get into dry clothes. She offered for Annalise to wait out the rain or to wait until Ulrich came back so that he could drive her back to Hannah’s.

“Can’t she stay,” Martha complained.

Katharina shook her head and said, “We can’t have her just moving around so much. I am just going to text Hannah to let her know what’s going on. In fact, this is the perfect time for Annalise to finish picking up her things.”

Annalise pouted. Martha just rolled her eyes as they went up to fully strip out so they could get into warm clothes. Slowly, the darkness started to creep back. They both silently did their own thing as they tried to prepare themselves for the loneliness to settle in again.

Jonas spread the map down on the floor of his father’s studio to try and figure out where he went wrong. He was growing really frustrated with it. He sighed as he sat on his heels looking down at in almost in a trance until he heard Hannah call from downstairs. He jogged downstairs and asked, “Yeah?”

“Annalise got stuck at the Nielsen’s because of the rain,” Hannah explained, “So Ulrich will probably be dropping her off soon. Can you...” She trailed off.

Jonas shook his head and threw on his raincoat. Right now was possibly the worst time for his mother to be pulling what she normally did. So he grabbed an umbrella and said, “I’ll just go get her. Don’t worry about it.”

Hannah tried to call after him, “She is going to have a bag! It’s probably best if you just let Ulrich bring her.”

Jonas waved to his mom as he braved the rain to go and get the girl.

Charlotte drove down the forest road one more time. She went painstakingly slow to try and scan around looking for any sign of her daughter. She ended up spotting something. There lay on the moss-covered ground was an orange fox beanie that Elisabeth always wore. Charlotte stopped the car and rushed over to pick it up. She looked up and started to try to find if there were any more clues to where her daughter possibly had gotten off to. Her heart started to panic praying that Elisabeth wasn’t taken and instead just with one of her classmates.

Jonas slowly dredged his way to the Nielsens’. He took a more direct way. His yellow raincoat was the only color with him. He tried to debate if this was truly actually the best idea. He had no clue what he was going to say if he ran into Martha. Were they even going to have a conversation if Annalise was standing there? As he contemplated, he found himself at the doorstep.

Katharina opened the door with a small smile, “Hello Jonas.”

“Hello,” Jonas bowed his head as a slight greeting.

The woman stood back from the door and asked, “Why not come inside and I’ll call for Lise for you.”

Jonas nodded. He listened to Katharina call upstairs for the girls. He took a deep breath as he watched Martha descend down the stairs after Annalise.

Peter thanked the last parent on the phone. No one had seen his daughter. Misery started to grow over in him. He turned to see his wife had returned home. He stared at her trying to hold back his tears, “I called everyone on the list. Nothing.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened in fear. She couldn’t hold in her woe. Her face contorted with sadness as she showed Peter Elisabeth’s hat in her hand.

Peter took a deep breath. Realization hit him hard. He looked up at his wife and walked to her to wrap himself around her. He hadn’t held Charlotte like this in such a long time, but he couldn’t even enjoy the feeling. He just wanted his daughter back.

Annalise walked up to the boy with a cheery smile. She giggled and said, “Hey Jonas.” A small blush formed across her cheeks, “Thanks for coming to get me.”

Jonas nodded. His eyes never leaving Martha, “Yeah. It’s no problem.” He darted his eyes to Annalise then back at Martha.

Martha rubbed her elbow nervously, “Hey.” She forced a small smile.

“Hey,” Jonas breathlessly replied.

Katharina, tired of the awkwardness of the moment, urged Jonas and Annalise out. “Thank you, Jonas, but you two should go before it gets worse.” She urged them out the door and said before closing it behind them, “Thank your mother for me.”

Jonas and Annalise stared at the door for a second. Annalise huddled under the small awning to keep her new dry clothes dry for the moment. Seeing Annalise do this snapped Jonas out of his trance. He smiled gently and opened up the umbrella before handing it to her. “There you go,” He said confidently.

Annalise giggled as he and her started to walk home together. The pavement shined with the moonlight. They stayed silent as they walked. Annalise daydreaming about how romantic it was to be sharing an umbrella with such a cute boy. Also, the fact that he went out of his way to come and get her. She tried to run through conversations she could try to have with him.

Jonas took this time to look at the misty lights through the rain. He tried to figure out what to say to Martha the next time he saw her. He really didn’t know what he wanted to do about it. He blinked hearing a car driving down the road and pulled himself closer to Annalise. He wrapped an arm around her as he pulled himself closer to her and not into the street.

Starlight filled the trees. Annalise’s face blushed as Jonas pulled himself closer to her. Her breath hitched in her throat. She licked her now dry lips. She smiled and asked, “What made you come and get me?”

“I didn’t want my mom to try anything with Ulrich,” Jonas answered honestly. He didn’t even notice Annalise’s nervousness and pink hue.

“Oh,” Annalise said disappointed. She looked out in the darkness. Everything seemed a bit less bright.

They continued in silence again. A cold wind brushed past the two in the walkway. Jonas noticed out of the corner of his eye that Annalise started to shiver. Her hair was still soaked from her earlier escapades with Martha. He took pity on her and moved closer so that the could share his warmth. Annalise gave him a small smile and rest her head against his shoulder as he took the wield of the umbrella instead.

Once they got back, he ushered her inside then watched as she climbed the stairs going into her room. He knew he wanted to say something before she walked away for the night, but he couldn’t think of what to say to her. His heart gnawed watching her knowing how silent they were walking home. She normally was so brilliant. Everything brightened around her, yet tonight it seemed as if they were strangers once more.

Jonas walked upstairs and gently rest his head on his pillow. He stared up at the ceiling wondering if or where he had gone wrong.

Ulrich returned home to Katharina vacuuming the carpet from the mess Martha and Annalise had made coming inside from the rain.

A dark figure opened up the Doppler family cabin just as Franziska returned home to find her mother crying into her father’s lap. Her father looked up at her as a light came on within the cabin. Helge walked to the police searching for Elisabeth trying to warn them of the upcoming danger so that way they could stop what was going on. Franziska really didn’t need to be told what had happened. The look on her parent’s face was enough for her to know that her little sister had now disappeared as well.

Ulrich sighed as he made his way upstairs to once again go sleep in Mikkel’s bed.

The Doppler family’s door slowly unlocked causing Peter’s head to perk up to look towards the noise. He grabbed onto his wife who then also looked towards the door. Soon, Elisabeth walked in. Charlotte couldn’t contain herself and rushed to hug her daughter. She held the girl in her arms. When she pulled away, Elisabeth signed, “I lost my hat.”

Ecstatic, Charlotte signed, “Where were you?”

Elisabeth sneered, “You didn’t pick me up so I walked.”

“And that took you this long,” her mother asked frustrated from being left in such a state of distress.

“I met someone,” the girl explained. She held out a gold pocket watch to her mother then continued, “He gave me this.”

Charlotte pulled her daughter to her and asked, “Who did?”

“Ouch,” Elisabeth winced, “You’re hurting me.”

Charlotte let go of her daughter and asked again, “I want to know who gave this to you.”

“Noah,” Elisabeth replied.

“Who is Noah,” Charlotte asked.

Elisabeth, annoyed, explained, “He said it used to belong to you.”

Charlotte looked down at the watch as Peter took his daughter into his arms to hold her. She felt freezing.

“Elli,” Franziska called relieved to hear her sister was back home. She rushed into the room and pulled the girl away from their father so that she could hold her. “I was so worried about you,” Franziska admitted. She pulled her sister away and asked, “Where were you?” Franziska then noticed red lipstick on Elisabeth’s lips. She wiped it away just to be sure then slapped her sister across the face. With tears streaming down her face she told her sister, “Hands off my stuff!” She turned away and stormed to her room.

The phone rang. Peter walked to answer it telling the officers that Elisabeth had returned home only to here about his dad being in the woods. He hung up and explained to Charlotte the situation before leaving. Charlotte looked down at the pocket watch. On the inside, there was an inscription of, ‘For Charlotte.’

The next morning, the bearded stranger stood in a very familiar room to him. He walked over to the map inside of Jonas’s desk and marked a location with a red marker. He thought back on Ariadne’s thread; how we are all searching for it, the one that is meant to guide us along the right path. A beacon in the darkness. We’d love to know our fate. Where we’re headed. But the truth is, he thought, there is but one path through all times. Predetermined by the beginning and by the end, which is also the beginning.

Helge bolted awake and took the nurse’s wrist. He stared up at her and earnestly said, “He needs to be stopped. I need to stop him.”

The nurse asked, “Who?”

“Noah,” he simply replied.

Yasin walked though the woods walking to school. He vented to himself, “I’m not a baby anymore. I can go to school on my own.” The poor darling boy had no idea how wrong he was as he walked into a tall man with a large hat.

#yesterday once more fanfic #dark fanfic #dark netflix #dark (netflix)#dark (netflix) fanfic #dark netflix fanfic #dark (netflix) fanfiction #fix it fic #break it differently

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shadowsof-thenight · 4 years

Text

Where our story begins: Chapter four

Story summary: This is a victorian era AU Home is where our story begins, but how does one know where home is?  

Julia has a good life. A calm life. She really doesn’t have much to complain about. That is, until a handsome stranger steps into their home in the country and all that calmness seems to disappear instantly. Who is this man that seems to terrorise everyone with his haughty ways? 

Ship: Bucky Barnes X OFC-Julia

Warnings: none I think.

Words: 4196

***

A/N: As some of you might know, I am looking for a beta. So if anyone wants togive it a go, know someone who would, please let me know. Forgive me for any mistakes you might find in this one, feel free to inform me of them so I can fix it. With the current regulations for corona, I am unable to go to work. I hope that I’ll be able to write a lot the coming weeks. Perhaps even finish flashlight.

And as always, feedback is appreciated!

If you wish to be tagged, let me know! Edit 26th of April 2020: replaced the chapter with the beta-ed version! Thanks to @gnomewithalaptop for all her hard work!

***

Masterlist

Story Masterlist

***

After their loaded conversation, they both needed a moment to overthink the information that was shared. For the continuation of their walk into town conversation was kept light—Julia commented on the constantly changing weather, and James asked questions about various things they walked past. Julia finally felt most of the tension leave her body, and she was ready to enjoy their stroll around the town centre. There were only a few shops, but it was enough to entertain them for a moment. There were also people, plenty of people, and all of them were drawn to the handsome new face that entered their town square.

All too soon, James became somewhat of an attraction. Not too many strangers ventured into this part of the country, except for vendors. Nobility like James would usually exclusively reside in the manors of other lords and ladies. There were a few of those families in the area; such as the Rumlow family that lived nearest to the Fitzgeralds. They were rich and notoriously ruthless in business, but they had always been kind to Julia. Then there was Julia’s Uncle Phil, Clint’s father, who lived only an hour away. And just a tad further was the Stark family. Julia hadn’t seen the Starks since court though. Parties were very limited here, as most of the families split their time between court and the country and sought out calm when they were here.

Which, in short, meant that it was a rare occasion where such a well-dressed, obviously well-off man would venture into town. Julia had to work hard to keep him from being overrun by the gossiping elderly and the multitude of parents that wished to introduce their daughters to him. James was polite, though she saw clear signs of discomfort in his demeanour. As much as she enjoyed his unease on other occasions, she knew better than to walk away from her duties. He was her guest, her parents’ guest, and she needed to help him as best she could.

She understood the reaction James got from her neighbours. The area had suffered economically in recent years, and there was a definite allure to a man like James. It would be a surefire way to provide for their families. Knowing the quick ways of town gossip, she was certain that they knew exactly what he made in a year, something Julia herself did not know, she realised just then.

James was surprised by all the attention he was getting, whispering to Julia that none of them even knew him. She tried to suppress a laugh as she took in his widened eyes as he spoke to her. One of her elderly neighbours was quick to inform them that the approval of the Fitzgeralds was enough of a recommendation to his character. Julia blushed at the compliment directed at her family, happy that people perceived them so positively. It mattered to her what people thought of her and her family. Still, she wasn’t entirely clear if she did approve of James’s character. This was not the moment to address that however, so she bit her tongue.

Eventually, the crowds thinned and Julia was able to turn them around, ready to go home. It was still a good twenty minutes to go, and dark clouds were slowly gathering over their heads. Unconsciously, Julia picked up the pace, and since James kept up rather effortlessly, she did not notice until her breath started to become strained. It was now his turn to chuckle, and he took her hand to lay on his arm, as he slowed their pace again. Relieved, she breathed in, though she kept a wary eye on the sky.

When the manor finally came into view, Julia repressed the urge to run for it. The conversation had long since died, and the silence was weighing heavier on her shoulders by the minute. Initially, she enjoyed it, but soon her mind had started playing tricks on her, and she wondered if his silence was perhaps a foreboding one. After all, she had been rather direct and possibly rude to the man beside her, and with the house coming closer, this was becoming far more real in her head. Her efforts to run interference with the locals might not have been enough to plead her case. Not that this was the only reason she helped him. But what if he intended to tell her parents? They’d be mortified.

All worries were quickly cast from her mind though, as the heavens opened up and rain pelted down on them. She heard Mary gasp from the sudden chill it added to the air, and all three of them quickened their pace once more, but it was no use. By the time they entered the foyer of her childhood home, they were soaked through and through.

The door was already open as they reached the building, and as soon as they crossed the threshold, Josephine was fussing over them as only a mother would. Jones quickly helped them out of their coats, while Maudlin came over with warm towels. She wrapped the company of three in those fluffy cloths in quick succession. Then she guided Mary to her own quarters, certain that Julia and James were well taken care of by others. She was correct, of course, since James’s valet came rushing down the stairs to tend to him almost immediately after she left. Julia found herself in the gentle care of her mother, who explained that her chambermaid had gone home to her family and Mary needed some time to herself.

“When did Charlotte leave?” Julia wondered out loud, only now realising that she had not seen the woman in two days. Her mother's chambermaid was always quiet, but not invisible.

“Yesterday morning,” Josephine softly replied as she worked on the lacing of Julia’s dress. Julia tried to catch her mother’s eyes through the floor-length mirror, to no avail.

“Who has been helping you?”

“Maudlin and Mary, my dear.” Her mother’s voice was calm as she focussed on her task, but there was just a slight undertone that told Julia there was more to it. However, it was clear to her that her mother was not eager to discuss the matter, and Julia decided to accept that for now. Besides, she was far too cold to focus on much else. Therefore she wrapped herself in her warm robe and waited under the covers of her bed, as her mother prepared a bath for her.

***

James was exhausted. For a good few minutes, he was certain that his stay here would be the end of him. It had not even been a full day, but it had proven to be a taxing one already. The words that Julia had spoken during their walk ran through his mind. As well as the many questions and introductions that had been thrown his way in town. Everyone had been polite, though subtlety wasn’t a talent for most. It had amused and exhausted him. And now he was so incredibly cold that he was certain he would not be able to catch some shut-eye.

He tried to roll his shoulder as the watery chill seeped into his bones and pain shot through his arm. Silently cursing, he paced the room in an attempt to remain calm. He would need something else to focus on, something other than the pain. He walked into the adjoining bathroom where his valet was currently making him a bath.

“Peter, have you been successful today?” His voice was a rough grumble and he took a deep breath to fix it. Peter did not deserve his foul attitude. The young man had gone above and beyond during this bout of travelling. It was not his fault that the results were lacking.

“No, sir. My apologies, sir,” the tall gangly boy said, his eyes averted. He obviously sensed the tension in his boss and was treading lightly. “Your bath is ready, sir.”

James waved him off and disrobed, quickly stepping into the steaming water. A sigh left his lips as the warmth had its quick effect and soothed the pain in the tangled mess of scars that was his shoulder. He could faintly hear Peter rummaging around in his room and assumed he was stoking up the fire. The boy knew just how much James hated the cold. It was why his own home had undergone rigorous adjustments that helped keep out the chill. After all, the northern part of this beautiful country was a great deal colder.

Oh, how he had enjoyed the long summer of this year. Though he did wonder now if he had appreciated it enough. Perhaps he had not.

“Peter?” He called out and before long the young man poked his curly head into the door, a bright smile on his kind face. “Can you find out if I could have a moment with Lord Fitzgerald today?”

If he was going to endure the cold and accompanying pain, James would rather do it from the comforts of his own home. Therefore, he needed to get to business. He could not allow George to stall their dealings for too long. Even if he did enjoy the company of his beautiful daughter. She was tempting, luring him in quickly with her calculated stares and her desire to question everything. It reminded him of his dear sister and offered a nice distraction from his worries. However, there was business to be done, and he could not neglect his duties.

***

Still reeling from the cold, Julia decided to have her lunch in her room. It was rather late for it anyway. She was not ready to leave the warmth that the roaring fire provided. There were fires burning in every hearth of the manor, but most rooms were far larger than her bedroom, and she guessed that those rooms would not be as pleasantly sizzling.

Julia spent her time lazily cutting into the carrots on her plate, munching on small bites while she contemplated the events of the morning. Their walk had lasted far longer than she had anticipated. Truthfully, her feet were a little sore. Though that probably had more to do with the muddy soil they had walked on. Her shoes were definitely not made for running, she thought as she regarded them—discarded in the corner by the door. Hopefully, they weren’t completely ruined by the rain and mud. She would have to ask Mary about that, if her friend would stay long enough to talk. At this point, it was clear she was avoiding Julia, or at least avoiding speaking to her. Julia only hoped that this would be over by the day’s end.

Julia really needed someone to talk through everything she had said, wanted to analyse his replies. He had not shunned her after her impertinent behaviour, though there had been long bouts of silence during their walk home. She worried about what he thought of her now and if her behaviour would reflect badly on her parents. He was a hard person to read, and she couldn’t figure it out by herself. One moment, he seemed to be testing her, amusement clear in his eyes. Other moments he could be kind. It was seriously confusing her.

She wondered if she had judged him too harshly the previous night, only to remember his conversation with his valet. Peter, she thought his name was. He was young, eager and James had appeared to be cussing him out. Had the boy deserved it? She couldn’t be certain, though her mother certainly had not deserved his attitude. Regardless, Julia thought it classless to be mean to the staff. She had made them her friends, rather than just employees—after all, they did so much for her and her family.

Finally, Julia decided it was time to show her face again. She left her room in favour of the drawing room - where she would read a book, she decided. As she descended the stairs, voices could be heard and she quietly moved closer, her curiosity getting the best of her, as it usually did. She recognised the voices as those of James and her mother, and she was pleasantly surprised to hear him apologise. Apparently, he was true to his word, which was definitely a good thing.

His words were a little forced and perhaps even awkward, but her mother seemed elated to receive them. Josephine’s bright smile quickly brought a smile to Julia’s face as well, and she had a little spring in her step as she approached the two. She made a mental note to be kinder in her opinion of their guest before she greeted them happily as she passed them.

Once in the drawing room, she picked up a book she had begun earlier in the week and sat down in the comfortable windowsill seat. Taking a moment to look out of the window, she regarded the muddy roads with a deep sigh. The rain was still falling down in heavy streams, and she wondered briefly if it was not too much water all at once.

She must have dozed off because she was suddenly awoken by the realisation that she was no longer alone in the room. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden nearness of another human being, intensified by the knowledge that it could only be James. Her father was still confined to his bedroom, and her mother was not known for her soft careful tread—often walking to fast throughout the house to be quiet. Besides, Josephine had taken to sitting with her bedridden husband.

The darkening skies told Julia that quite some time had passed, and she quickly turned to see James sitting at an ornate desk just a short distance from her. The swishing of her skirts seemed to make more noise than the man sitting at that writing desk. He looked up at her with an amused smile on his features. With a hand pressed to her heart, Julia smiled back, a tad nervous as she met his gaze.

“I did not mean to frighten you, my lady,” he offered, mirth shining through his tone.

“Julia, please,” she answered as her heart rate slowed down again.

“Julia.” He mulled over the name, as if he could taste it. The smirk on his lips told her that he liked it and she suppressed a shiver. He was very much like a predator and she was very much the prey. Though his current behaviour was that of a well-behaved gentleman, there was a certain darkness to this man that she could not decipher. It kept her on her toes whenever she was around him.

“I did not mean to intrude; however, I did not wish to be alone in an empty bedroom. Therefore I hope you will allow me to write some letters in your company.”

“Indeed you can, make yourself at home,” Julia quickly replied, a slight blush on her cheeks as she spoke. It appeared he had that effect on her. Having been caught napping did not help either.

“Thank you, your company might make it a less tedious task,” He said with a smile, and Julia just smiled back. His words confused her and she was not entirely sure how to respond. Therefore she settled on nodding and smiling at his confession.

It was hard to concentrate on reading now that he was with her. Then again, she hadn’t done a good job of that before either. Still, his presence was distracting and she kept imagining the feeling of his eyes on her form. She tried telling herself that she was being silly, though she dared not glance in his direction. Whether he was truly looking at her was irrelevant. His closeness was unnerving even without doing so, and she could no longer pretend to be reading the same page. It had been too long.

She closed the book and paced the room for a bit until she could hear the doctor leave her father’s room. She moved to the back of the room, where she placed the book back on its shelf—vowing to herself that she would one day give it a fair chance. Behind her, the door opened and fell shut again. She glanced back and saw James’s valet stepping in with determination in his steps.

The young man bent down low and whispered in James’s ear. Immediately, she could see the tension rising in his shoulders and she repressed the urge to interfere. Instead, she remained in the back of the room to give them space. The whispered response James gave was clearly filled with anger, though Peter did not flinch. The boy just nodded, took some letters from his boss and walked out of the room again. James deflated a little and let out a deep sigh.

“Is everything alright?” She wondered out loud, unable to contain herself any longer.

James instantly whipped his head around at the sound of her voice, and for a short moment, she was taken aback by the anger that was visible in his eyes. Upon seeing her reaction, he schooled his features so quickly that it almost made her wonder if she had imagined it. The thrumming of her heart told her that she had not.

“Yes, my apologies. I’m anxiously awaiting a contract, and there have been quite a few delays,” James explained, and Julia nodded in understanding, not willing to pry any more. He had already been more than gracious when it came to her prodding questions.

“If we can help with that in any way, please do let us know,” she offered, hoping to redeem herself as a hostess. Walking away from the bookcases, she made her way to the front of the room, ready to exit the space.

“Thank you. Are you leaving?” He asked, his voice quickly stalling her movements.

“I was hoping to visit my father for a moment, just to see how he is,” she explained, anxious to leave now.

“I do hope for a speedy recovery,” James offered with a kind smile, and Julia scolded herself for having been frightened by his anger. It had not been directed at her; she should not make it a bigger ordeal than it truly was.

“Indeed, as do I.”

***

Darkness surrounded Julia as she sat up in her bed. Her heart was racing and she tried to make out the different shapes in her room that were now casting ominous shadows in the slivers of moonlight that peeked through her curtain. She had been in a deep sleep when something had woken her up, and she was not sure what it had been. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but she could not shake the unease in her mind. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself down before she grabbed the thick robe that hung from a hook by her dresser.

She then moved towards the dying fire in her fireplace, needing the heat still emanating from it. Taking hold of a poker, she tried to rekindle the flames—even throwing on another log. She wasn’t sure what she was doing; she had never had to make a fire, but this was something she had seen Mary do before.

That was when she heard a scuffle in the room to her right, and she stood back up, confused. Carefully, she moved towards the door, listening for another sound but hearing nothing. Still, she could not relax. The room where the sound had originated from was the guest room where her father currently resided. He had been sniffing and coughing for a week already and had not wanted to disturb his wife during the night. Therefore, he had opted for the guest room. They had plenty of those, so Julia had thought nothing of it.

She decided to check on her father and opened her bedroom door, glancing out to see if perhaps someone else had heard him as well. The hallway was clear and she stepped out, rushing towards the next door. The carpet was soft on her bare feet, her toes quickly cooling off and she scolded herself for forgoing slippers.

More ruckus could be heard through the door, and she knocked softly, worrying if perhaps he had tumbled out of bed. This afternoon, his fever had been rising, and she feared he might be too weak to help himself back up. When there came no answer to her knocking, she finally opened the door, careful not to make too much noise.

Through the open door, Julia could see her father up and about, softly mumbling to himself as he stacked the books he had apparently knocked over. She lingered in the doorway, confused by the slightly delirious string of words falling from his lips. He wasn’t aware of her presence yet, and though she had planned to inform him, she could not help but stare in silence. It was clear that something had him worried. As he mumbled to himself, his hand movements became more chaotic. This confused her even more, since her father rarely got angry. Not even when she and her brother would cause a disruption as children—which they managed to do during important business meetings— had he ever raised his voice. He would only send them to play elsewhere.

“Such a fool,” she overheard him mumble, and she stepped into the room, ready to ease his worries in whatever way she could.

“All my fault,” it appeared that he was angry with himself and not another. She would not have known how to calm him then. “Should have been better.”

She wondered what he was beating himself up over, but knew better than to ask. Instead, she was trying to think of things to cheer him up as she moved closer to him. She wasn’t trying to be quiet, though he did not seem to be aware of her presence—even as she bumped her hip into the desk, rattling the contents on top of it.

“What will Jules think of me?” Those words stopped her in her tracks, and she gasped. How could he ever worry about such things, she wondered. She was certain that he could never do anything to make her think less of him.

“What are you doing out of bed?” She finally asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Her touch finally pulled him from the trancelike state he had been in, and he seemed surprised—not only to see her, but to be out of bed as well. Confused he looked down at his thin pyjamas and shivered. Julia quickly ushered him to his bed and gently tucked him in.

“I needed to clear my head,” George finally answered as he tried to suppress a yawn. Julia smiled as she smoothed out his hair and kissed his forehead. He still felt warm, though it wasn’t as bad as it had been that afternoon.

“Why don’t you try to sleep a bit?” She said gently and he nodded, his eyes already fluttering shut. She placed another blanket over his form before walking back out of the room. She kept her gaze on his face, and by the time she reached the door, she was satisfied that he was truly asleep.

Quietly she closed the door and stepped back from it, only to bump into the solid form of James. She opened her mouth to scream, but he quickly placed a firm hand over her lips—containing the sound.

“My apologies, I truly did not mean to scare you,” he was quick to whisper and she nodded, stepping back from him. He let her. His hands went behind his back, and she assumed he clasped them together.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, perhaps a little harsher than intended.

“I heard things falling and then voices, I thought I’d check to see if anyone needed help,”

“No, everything is fine,” Julia answered, still wary of his presence. “Wait, how could you have heard anything at all, all the way over there?” She asked, taking another step away from him and pointing towards his room. His room was at a considerable distance from one she’d just left, and given the soft noises she had heard from her adjacent room, it seemed impossible that he had heard anything.

“I wasn’t in my room,” he shuffled on his feet as he said this and she canted her head to the side, awaiting an explanation. “I couldn’t sleep and went to borrow a book.” He held up the copy she had been reading that afternoon, and she frowned. Finally, she decided that she was far too tired to wonder and began walking towards her own bedroom door again.

“Good night, James,” she said, her tone still a little harsher than intended, but she couldn’t be bothered to correct it. It was late, she was tired and his presence was unnerving as always.

“Sweet dreams, Julia.” He smiled sweetly and moved past her towards his own room.

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x OFC #MCU fanfiction #James Buchanan Barnes #Where our story begins

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kee-writestrashh · 5 years

Text

Guns for Hire

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3

Summary: You are the wife to the Heir of the Red Kings, Ramsay Bolton. living the undercover life of a mob wife has its perks, and you love your husband. But you find out something that seems to unfold a series of unwanted events…

Chapter 39: Blind Tiger

January melted into February. Or it would be more accurate to say melted and refroze as the snow turned to sleet and ice.

Every day seemed to make your stomach bigger, though women simpered about how tiny and cute your little baby bump was whenever you left this damn house.

But it was really starting to get in the way. Especially in the bedroom. No, Ramsay didn't say anything about it, and he never missed an opportunity to fuck you, but to you... it was just... awkward in a way. Having sex was becoming taxing, trying to find a position that wasn't uncomfortable.

But, your girls were back in the city. Ramsay seemed content. He hadn't even bitched about his boring desk job since finally returning to work. And he was no longer drowning in excessive bottles of liquor. He had cut back a lot. Ever since you killed the Targaryen. He still drank every day, just not as much. Theon Greyjoy had been spotted two days ago. However, there were only 5 short days until you found out what Baby B was. It scared you senseless. You were no closer in figuring out how to keep your husband safe.

Life at the safe house was boring. You spent half the day sleeping or reading. Charlotte came to stay with you a lot. It was nice to have another female to hang out with. You missed Liz and Kaden, but Liz was now too sick to leave her house.

She had called you the night before last and cried to you about how much pain she was in. How she regretted the idea of chemo. She should have just pushed for surgery. It hurt you to hear her so down and miserable. She was always so head strong and encouraging. You wished you knew what to do to help, anything to make her smile.

Your mother had called you a week ago, all in a dither that Eli was apparently getting married. Eli and Jeyne were going out there this weekend, so Mom and Dad could meet her. Eli had been very distant with you since that night at dinner. Not that you could blame him, but damn. You had just become cool with him again.

You had lunch a couple of times with Whit and Jared, when they didn't have to immediately get back home after their 'coffee bean' runs.

"Oh yeah, mom and dad are ectastic that we get to use our flight skills for more than just med evac. Dad said, coffee beans was a funny investment, but as long as it put money in our pockets and made us happy. Going to put Kasey in traveling cheer squad this summer. She will be so excited."

Well, at least your Sheep were prospering. Ramsay had set up the schemes to buy all the land you had wanted, and construction for new businesses were in the works. You had gotten in touch with the Martell's to grow on land your Sheep had set up, as well as building more secure labs, though marijuana was the best choice to go with, for you personally. At least it was naturally occurring. You didn't really want any part in synthetic shit, to which Ramsay begrudgingly obliged.

"What do you want to do for your boyfriend's birthday?" Ramsay asked, looking up from the laptop he had been absorbed in for the last two hours.

"What?" You asked, marking your place in the book you had been reading.

"Matt. His eighteenth birthday is tomorrow." Ramsay said, glancing at the sleet tinking on the windows.

"I dunno. I figured he and Ty would spend the day together. Thought maybe I would talk you into giving him a decent amount of money for him to blow on stupid shit." You shrugged, pulling your blanket up around you, trying to ignore the annoying urge to pee for the sixth time in the last hour and a half.

"Sure." Your husband replied, lighting a cigarette and going back to whatever it was he had been doing. Numbers by the sound of pen scratching on paper, furious muttering, and deep sighs. "It's fight night. Want to go? Thought I'd take you to dinner and then to the ring."

"Um... sure? I've never been." You shrugged, yawning and rubbing your belly.

You closed your eyes with a small smile, breathing slowly, and deeply when... it happened.

You gasped, threw your eyes open, and sat up straight.

Ramsay looked up, alarmed, half rising from his seat.

"I felt it! I felt the baby move!" You said excitedly, looking down at your belly.

"Sure it wasn't just some weird body function?" He asked, raising a brow and closing the computer.

"Positive." You said excitedly. You stared hard at your belly and gave another gasp after a few moments of silence, "yes! I can feel the baby. Oh my god."

Ramsay leaned back in his chair and watched you with a rather uncharacteristically warm expression.

You both simply stared at one another until finally Ramsay stood from his seat and gave a deep stretch like a cat.

"Were you ever good at math?" He asked, cracking his knuckles and frowning at his notebook.

"Well I can find x." You replied, knowing your answer wasn't good enough. "Why?"

"I'm missing something. A variable or... I don't know." He said slowly.

You said nothing. Finally he shook his head slightly, scratching his jaw and turning to you.

"Dinner?"

"Whatever. It's gotten to the point where as long as I eat it doesn't matter. Heartburn doesn't discriminate it seems, either. But I would really love bell peppers."

"You make my life so easy." He chuckled, walking down the hall.

You watched him leave with a grin.

"I suppose I can dress for comfort?" You called from the closet. You turned to look at Ramsay as he entered the room. His faded jeans and band shirt were enough of an answer.

"You're very fond of this old rag." You said, picking at his shirt as he pulled his leather jacket on.

He shrugged, "first concert. Met Alyn there, actually."

"Oh?" You said, pulling your hoodie on.

"Yeah. We were fourteen. Gave him a bloody nose in the mosh pit. Then I saved his life from some big dude after he got caught making out with the dudes drunk woman. Rolled one behind the venue, and the rest was history. He just kind of stuck around. Father always hated my Boys, so I kept them close. Anyways, burgers and shakes? We can buy your bell peppers on the way back home."

"Burgers and shakes sound wonderful. On one condition." You nodded, pulling your hood up and grabbing your wallet from your purse.

"What's that?" He asked, ushering you out of the house.

"The fries have to be perfect for the shakes."

"Shake fries. Maybe you could market that." He chuckled, helping you into the Jeep.

Ramsay had had the Jeep repainted, tagged, and replaced the vin number. Made you a bit sad, but, safety first, right? Right.

"So, what am I to expect?" You asked, finishing your shake.

"It'll be loud. But what's better than a few beers and watching people beat the shit out of each other? Wonder if anyone good is fighting tonight?" Ramsay said, dropping his cigarette butt out of the cracked window.

He shifted in his seat, pulling his gun and knife, sliding both under the seat. You watched him with a raised brow.

"They check at the door." He shrugged, opening his door.

You met Damon, Charlotte, Ben, and to your excitement, Kaden at the front gates.

The boy rushed you, hugging you tightly.

"Aunt (y/n)! Look!" Kaden practically shouted, pulling his cap off.

"Oh goodness. What happened to all your hair?" You asked, kneeling down and running your hand over his fuzz.

"I did it for mommy." He said, eyes bright.

You looked up at Ben who gave a half shrug and sad smile.

"Liz had a meltdown and said fuck it. Says she was gonna lose it all anyways, might as well get on with it." Ben said, hurt lacing his words.

"But can I tell you a secret?" Kaden said, motioning you closer.

"What's that, hon?" You asked quietly.

He leaned into you, "it will grow back. Just like mommy's."

You gave a small, watery laugh, realizing you were emotional, "yes. Yes it will."

"Come on son, let's get out of the cold." Ben said, as Kaden put his hat back on.

You watched the boy with a fond smile, as Ramsay laced his fingers in yours and tugged you along.

Ramsay led you to a row of seats, close to the ring. Maybe too close for your liking.

"Want something to eat or drink before I send Dame off?" Charlotte asked, sitting behind you.

"I'd love a sprite or something." You replied, glancing back at her.

"Sure thing, sweetheart." She replied.

You watched Ramsay's profile, but he seemed unemotional as his eyes scanned the crowd.

Someone fell into the seat beside you. You turned quickly to see Tyene. She smiled brightly at you as Matt sat on her other side.

You hugged her warmly, "hey."

"Hey yourself. I was excited to hear you were coming. We miss you." Tyene said, looking past you to glare at your husband.

"I miss you all. But, gotta keep this baby safe." You said, placing your hand on your belly.

"Mama was saying how cute you looked yesterday when you swung by." Tyene smiled.

"I was sad you weren't there. But, I heard you were in good hands." You grinned, watching Matt shrug out of his coat.

Tyene shrugged, but grinned broadly.

"Speaking of, what are we doing tomorrow?"

Tyene chewed her lip and gave another shrug, "dunno. Thought we would party it up tomorrow night at Alyn's club or something."

You nodded, "just text me and lemme know."

You made it through two fights before becoming slightly bored. You stole glances at your husband, who looked equally as bored, as he slouched in his seat and jiggled his foot.

You were going to suggest blowing this joint and maybe sneaking into a movie when the boredom flipped completely. But not into excitement.

The final two fighters of the night. Loras Tyrell, which meant the Tyrells and Lannisters were here. And none other than this infamous Jon Snow that your husband hated with almost as much passion as his obsession for you.

When the man took the ring, Ramsay sat up straight and rigid, eyes narrowed to cold slits, jaw clenched, and fists balled.

You caught Damon and Ben exchanged glances.

You watched how Ramsay watched this Snow guy. It was calculating and almost hungry. Like a starving wolf, in the dead of winter, watching a herd of deer run past.

You opened your mouth to say something to him but Damon made a frantic gesture with his hand, catching your eye, and shaking his head fervently.

You closed your mouth again and turned your eyes to the ring.

They were both fast, but Loras was not consistent. After three rounds, Snow had ended it.

The noise of the crowd was loud and excited as Snow was paraded around the ring in triumph by the ref. He looked solemn and uncomfortable at all the attention.

The stands had mostly cleared before Ramsay finally came back down to earth and stood, fists still balled.

You held on to your empty cup, trying to think of something to say. But what was there to say?

You followed him quietly to the lobby, where you bade Matt, Tyene, Ben, and Kaden good bye, giving Kaden about 15 extra hugs and threatened him to be a good boy for his mommy and daddy. To which he assured you he was always good.

You threw your cup away when a group of Lannisters and Tyrells pushed past you, all practically running toward the exit. It puzzled you.

You turned to Ramsay to ask if he had seen but to your surprise you found him pushing through the crowd in the other direction, Damon tearing off after him.

You exchanged a look with Charlotte and followed in their wake.

"SNOW!" Ramsay shouted, pushing people aside.

"Oh god. Please no." You sighed, hurrying to catch up to your husband.

"Bolton." Jon replied, inclining his head slightly, turning from the news crew and the red head on his arm.

"I'm calling you out." Ramsay growled.

"Baby, do you think that..." You started, halting at Ramsay's side, but stopping in midsentence as he gripped your arm and gave you a murderous look.

Jon Snow stood there, glaring at Ramsay in dislike. The woman at his side, glanced you and your husband over before leaning into Jon and whispering in his ear. He gave her a perplexed look when she pulled away and she wore an arrogant smirk, meeting your gaze.

You curled your lip and glared back at her.

"No." Jon finally spoke.

The red head rolled her eyes, turned on her heel, and stormed off.

"Pussy." Ramsay sneered, but his smirk dropped when his phone rang. "What?" He barked when he answered. His face hardened, "no. Do not engage." He hung up and turned to you, pushing you rather roughly along in front of him.

Damon gave you a look of sympathy as you were pushed past him.

Ramsay said nothing until he got to your door at the Jeep. He pushed you into the cold door and grabbed your face.

"If you ever make a fool of me like that in front of people and question my actions ever again, it will be the last thing you ever do." He hissed in so much venom that for the first time you were completely afraid of your husband. He meant it. The ice in his bite made it unmistakable.

You swallowed, dropping your eyes as the tears lined your lower lashes, "yes sir. I'm sorry. I just... I don't want you to get hurt."

Ramsay released you, running the back of his hand along your cheek. He placed his finger under your chin and pulled your face up to his. He placed a kiss to your lips, but said nothing.

"I'm taking you home, then I have to see what the fuck is going on." He helped you into your seat and slammed the door.

"Stannis." You said, remembering what Olyvar had said.

"What?" Ramsay said, glancing over at you in confusion.

"The day I met Oly at the bar to sign paperwork and went to lunch... He told me that Renly had gone into hiding and that Stannis was going to make a move on the Lannisters before the idiot boys wedding. But then I saw the Stark girl and forgot all about it. So sorry baby. I figured you'd know anyways." You said, tumbling over the words as they fell from your mouth.

Ramsay watched you as he sat there waiting on the red light to turn, lights and sirens coming from behind. He said nothing as the cop cars soared past. He cleared his throat and lit a cigarette.

"So?" You asked.

"Nothing. We will go home and that's it. As far as I am concerned neither side makes a difference to me. Maybe they will all kill each other. I have no ties to any of those cunts. Guess we will see what happens when the smoke clears tomorrow morning."

×××

"Party tonight?" You asked, looking up from Tyene's message.

Ramsay shrugged, looking up from his computer, "sure. But tell your snake we are partying my way. And I need to meet the kid at one o'clock downtown on the corner of Fifth and Kings Road."

"Um, okay? What are you doing? You've been quiet all morning." You questioned, sitting up from the couch.

"Numbers. And background cheks. This woman your brother is marrying... she's interesting."

"Interesting, huh?" You asked, with a jealous bite.

Ramsay noticed it and laughed, "jealous? Jealousy bores me, doll. You've nothing to fear. I just meant her family. They have bad blood with the Lannisters. Found articles and police reports. Aparently aren't very popular with Tywin's brother. Maybe that's why she didn't laugh or seem surprised at dinner. She's a couple years younger than you. Been in the service for six years."

You listened to him ramble his useless facts on your soon to be sister in law.

There came a knock on the door and you saw Ramsay crinkle his brow in confusion before he rose from his chair.

He opened the door and Damon stepped in.

"Robb Stark. He's looking for you."

Ramsay clicked his tongue and smirked.

"Tell him to meet me at the shop at six. Then we are going to the club for the kids birthday. I only need you with me when I meet the cop."

"Yessir." Damon nodded, clutching his keys and phone.

"Why did you come all the way up here instead of just calling?" Ramsay asked, crossing his arms.

"Because he's security detail this morning." You spoke up, putting your book down.

Your husband looked between you and Damon, who gave a half shrug and nod.

"I thought that was Friday?"

"Babe, it is Friday." You said, furrowing your brows slightly.

"Hm. Interesting." He hummed, leaving the room.

"He good?" Damon asked quietly.

You shrugged, "he's been a bit off for a couple days."

"When's your appointment?"

You heaved a sigh, "Wednesday."

"Ah. I see." Damon nodded, glancing around the mostly empty house.

"This is a pretty dress." You said, pulling the navy blue dress from the bag.

"I thought it would look good on you. Classic waves. Pearls. You have two hours." Ramsay replied, throwing a box of shoes on the bed.

"Why are we dressing so nice to get the kid fucked up for his eighteenth birthday?" You asked, examining the highly polished, black shoes.

"Rite of passage."

Ramsay walked in the bathroom, fixing his cufflinks as you pulled the last if the curlers from your hair. You felt your cheeks warm as you glanced at him in the mirror.

"Why do we look like we belong in the thirties?" You asked, turning to him.

"Dress code." He said, adjusting his tie and placing his fedora hat delicately on his perfectly slicked hair. You just noticed he had gotten a haircut while he was out.

"Where are we going?" You asked, turning back to the counter to find your lipstick.

"It's a surprise."

"Who are we meeting?"

"Matt, your snake, Dame, Charlotte, and Alyn."

He clasped your strand of pearls around your neck, fingers lingering longer than needed as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip.

"Alright, doll. First we meet with Stark, then we meet up with the gang."

"I'm following your lead." You smiled, putting your makeup away.

"You will hold your tongue, understood?" Ramsay said, throwing open the conference room door.

You nodded, entering the dark room, as Ramsay flipped on the light. You took a seat and ran your hand over the smooth surface of the polished table.

Ramsay leaned against the table beside you, glancing down at his watch. He tutted in annoyance.

"I really hate when people don't have the courtesy to be on time."

"You'd really hate my mom then. She'll be late to her own funeral." You giggled, tapping your foot on the ground, as you smoothed out your dress.

Moments later Damon entered, looking just as clean cut as Ramsay. You almost didn't recognize him and took a few moments of staring to realize who it was, as he swept his hat off his head and tucked it under his arm, leaning against the wall as Robb Stark walked in stiffly. The news reporter, Talisa a step behind him.

"Let's waste no time, I'm in rather a hurry this evening." Ramsay said, taking a seat beside you.

Robb made to sit across the table but Ramsay held up his hand, "gun on the table."

Robb scowled, pulling his gun and placing it on the table.

Ramsay glanced at you, "check her."

You rose from your seat, walking around the table to Talisa.

"Is this really necessary?" Robb asked, stiffening even more.

"Just a precaution." Ramsay said, lighting a cigarette.

You gave Talisa a small smile, "Sorry. But, safety first." You pat her down, "oh! I love your shoes."

"Uh... thanks?" She said, standing just as stiffly as Robb.

You pulled away from her and returned to your seat.

Robb and Talisa took their seats, both looking very awkward and uncomfortable.

"So, you got my message?" Ramsay asked, resting his elbows on the table.

"Yes. I did. You're a hard man to find." Robb said, with a nod.

"I like it that way. But I've been watching you. Nosing around in things that will get you killed. I would hire a professional hacker next time you try to find me. Now, before I say any more, why have you been meeting with my father?"

Robb eyed Ramsay closely, "he's helping me find my sister."

"Why? What's in it for him?" Ramsay asked, masking his confusion, but not before you took note of it.

"Don't know. He came to me and said he was sorry about my father and offered his help." Robb said, looking down at his hands as he rested them on the table.

You could see the strain in his face. Poor guy. Trying to play by his law abiding, police rules.

"Hm. Well, I am afraid I lied about having your sister. However, I know who has her. But locating her physical being has been difficult." Ramsay said, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

"Who?" Robb asked at once, snapping his head up.

"Hold on there, detective. What's in it for me?" Ramsay chuckled.

You gave him a side eye, frowning at his enjoyment by keeping this poor man in the dark.

"Bolton, I'm a cop. I don't make near enough what you're asking for." Robb said with a frustrated sigh, running his hand over his face.

Ramsay smirked, putting his cigarette out in the ash tray on the table, taking his hat off, and placing it in your lap.

"And I am just a simple banker, who owns a garage."

"Please. Name your price." Talisa spoke up, grabbing Robb's hand tight.

"Alright, how about this... Give me Theon Greyjoy and I will deliver your sister to you. Bring me Theon and his uncle, Euron Greyjoy and I will give you your sister and fifty k."

Robb gaped, "Theon? Why?"

"That's my business. Deal?" Ramsay said, a grin twitching the corner of his mouth.

"I can't. I don't even know where he is. He never came back to work." Robb admitted, chewing his lip.

The grin spread like poison on Ramsay's face.

"Seem to be losing everyone close to you, huh?"

Robb gave an ugly scowl and made to stand. Ramsay pulled back his jacket to reveal the gun strapped to his chest. Robb sat back in his chair.

"Do we have a deal?" Ramsay asked, rising from his chair, pulling the gun.

Talisa gasped, casting around wildly as Damon stepped in front of the only exit, hand tucked away inside his jacket.

Robb sighed, "Do I even have a choice?"

Ramsay laughed, "And I thought all Stark's were slow on the uptake. Look at it this way, you both walk out of here and never mention this meeting to anyone, you give me what I want, I give you what you want. Easy, right?"

Robb gripped the arms of his chair, "and if I bring the whole department down on you?"

Ramsay sucked his front teeth and gave an eye roll. He lazily held his gun up at Talisa.

You watched her eyes widen and color drain from her face.

"If you try anything stupid, well..." Ramsay said, pulling the trigger.

Talisa screamed as the shot rang out, and a hole appeared in the wall feet behind her. Ramsay had just missed grazing her cheek.

Robb jumped up, lunging for his gun, but Ramsay pulled a knife from nowhere it seemed and buried it in Robb's sleeve, pinning him just out of reach of his gun.

Talisa was sobbing hysterically into her hands, and Robb was fuming. Ramsay glanced at the shocked, sobbing woman in distaste.

"Now. Do. We. Have. A. Deal?" Ramsay asked, fingering the handle of the knife.

"Yes." Robb said weakly, shoulders dropping.

Ramsay wrenched the knife from the table with a satisfied grin and held out his hand. Robb shook it reluctantly.

"Because I'm such a good guy, I'll give you a clue on your sister. Joffrey Baratheon."

Robb eyed Ramsay, snatched his gun from the table, helped Talisa from her chair, and ushered her from the room.

"Remember, if you speak a word of this, your graves are already dug!" Ramsay called after them with a malicious laugh.

Once they were gone you turned to your husband, as he took his hat back from you.

"The Lannisters don't have her though." You said bluntly.

Ramsay chuckled, "I know. But I like watching cops chase their tails. Now, let's get the fuck outta here. We have a long night ahead of us."

"What is this place?" You asked, snaking your arm around Ramsay's waist as he led you down a flight of cobblestone steps to a thick door. There was a small sign above the door that read "Naked Man".

Ramsay only gave you a smirk as he knocked on the door.

You glanced back at Damon, Charlotte, Matt, Tyene, and Alyn. They had all dressed like you and Ramsay. It was like looking back in time.

An eye hole in the door slid back. Ramsay pulled back his sleeve slightly to reveal part of his flayed man tattoo, "Bolton, party of seven. Our blades are sharp."

The eye hole slid closed and a few moments later the heavy door swung in and Ramsay led you into an underground club. It was dim, full of smoke haze, mostly older men, girls dressed in curve hugging floor gowns like yours, and an electro swing band on a wooden stage. It had to be the most upbeat, and yet elegant place you had ever set foot in. The floors were dark polished oak, the walls done up in more elegant wood work. It was cozy and yet regal. It was... classic.

Ramsay turned around, grabbing Matt by the tie and pulling him forward, "your night is on me." He released Matt and glanced at your group, "to the Seven Deadly Sins." He winked, looking past you and letting a wicked smirk grow.

You turned to see what Ramsay was looking at. There in a corner, smoking cigars and playing poker sat Roose and Tywin Lannister.

Ramsay gripped your hand and led you toward his father. You followed unwillingly.

He slid into an empty seat beside his father, grabbed a glass off a tray a woman was carrying, and pulled you into his lap.

He took a very long, exaggerated drink, set the glass down, pulled his hat off, and smiled sweetly at his father.

Roose eyed Ramsay in weariness. "Son. Don't ever see you here."

"Yeah, been awhile. What brings you to the city? You hardly ever come to the city... though I've had it that you've been here a lot recently." Ramsay said, dealing himself cards, and pulling out his cigarettes.

"Mr. Lannister and I had business to take care of." Roose said curtly, eyeing you over.

"Been keeping busy, Lannister? Heard you pulled some amazing feats last night." Ramsay said, glancing up from his cards, pushing them aside, and giving Tywin a calculating look.

"Yes. Stannis is lucky to have the men he still has. Though it may not remain that way very long." Tywin nodded, taking a drink from his glass.

Jaime Lannister slid into the empty seat next to his father. He glanced you and Ramsay over.

"Didn't realize all the Bolton's would be here tonight." Jaime said, taking a drink offered by a woman.

"Strictly coincidence. Now, which one of you is selling?" Ramsay shrugged.

"What do you want, son?" Roose asked rather dangerously.

"Just wanna buy drugs, old man." Ramsay replied giving his father a very innocent look, that could of fooled God himself. "You always got good shit on you. I need it for the night. Look, I'm feeling generous, I'll even pay double."

"I don't need your money, idiot. Take it and go." Roose hissed, pulling a neatly folded bag of fine white powder from his breast pocket and thrusting it at Ramsay.

"Hey, I may get you a 'Dad of the year' coffee cup for father's day this year." Ramsay chuckled, taking the baggie. "Guess I can still expect you Wednesday afternoon?"

Roose eyed you and nodded, "of course. Wouldn't miss it."

You looked daggers at your father in law, thankful Ramsay couldn't see from your angle in his lap.

"Come on, doll. Let's leave the grumpy old men to their boring game. The young lion is cheating anyways." Ramsay said, nudging you to stand, and nodding at Jaime with a polite smile.

He gripped your hand and led you across the club, out of sight of Roose, to the table the Boys sat at.

"Right, kid. Hope you know what an honor it is to be here. I mean both literally here," he motioned around the building, "and officially being apart of the Bastard's Boys."

Matt gave a nod, looking a bit dazed.

Ramsay tossed the baggie he had got off his father to Alyn. "Six lines."

Alyn nodded, pulling his wallet and sliding a credit card out.

"Do you swing?" Ramsay whispered in your ear as you turned your attention to the band playing.

"Yes, actually. It's my favorite." You replied, turning back to him.

"Man, I knew I married you for a reason." He grinned, pulling out his wallet and pulling six crips bills from it. He passed them around, rolling his as tightly as he could.

"To a night you will never remember, or forget." Ramsay said, winking at Matt, snorting the thin line Alyn had carefully slid across the table with the plastic card.

Something about watching Ramsay snort cocaine was slightly heartbreaking. You knew he had used many times over the years, but he had never done it in front of you, and often assured you he only drank, popped pills occasionally, and smoked marijuana since "falling in love" with you.

You stood there watching him drop the rolled up bill on the table, bury his face in one hand, and clutch at his chest with the other. He shook his head, dropped his hands, and turned his eyes to yours as his pupils blew.

"Oh fuck." He muttered, taking a seat and staring at the table.

Alyn clapped him on the shoulder, "just give it a minute. Inhaled too hard is all."

You watched everyone succumb to the high from the blow. You felt like an outsider slightly. You made to sit down when Ramsay gripped your hand and rose from his chair.

He ordered a round of drinks for the table as he led you past the bar and to the dance floor.

"Pretty soon I'll be too fat for this." You said with a sad smile, as you fell into the fast paced steps with him.

He twirled you and pulled you into him, biting at your neck, "until then, though, I will take you dancing whenever you want."

"How is it that you are the most charming and horrible man I have ever met?" You asked, feeling slightly breathless already.

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it." He replied, also seeming rather winded. Though it may have just been the drugs. You weren't sure.

Three songs later you had to call it quits. Ramsay returned you to the table, and left you to get you a glass of water.

You glanced around the place, seeing your group scattered, enjoying themselves. It made you smile. Ramsay set the glass down in front of you, taking a seat beside you and pulling your chair closer.

"What's on your mind?" He asked, throwing back his drink.

"You." You said slowly turning your gaze from the room to him.

"What about me?" He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his brows slightly.

"I dunno. You're different. Not being so murderous or threatening. Treating Matt to, what I'm sure is a very expensive night, and... I dunno. I don't know how to explain it." You said, running your eyes over him.

"All of us spent our eighteenth birthdays here, and he's a Boy now. So, I thought I'd extend the hand. I take care of those who work for me. Sometimes that means doing things like this." He replied with a small shrug.

You nodded, turning back to the crowd, giving a tiny gasp as Tyene climbed up on a table, shouting to get everyone's attention.

"Hey! Tonight we are celebrating a birthday. And the birthday boy needs all your support to help him blow out his birthday candles!" Tyene shouted, as two bartenders set a towering birthday cake on the counter.

Alyn and Damon were helping a very inebriated Matt to the cake. There were a few catcalls and jeers from the crowd.

On the third attempt Matt managed to blow out all the candles, which was greeted by clapping and whistles. Mostly by the older men who took delight in watching a stupid kid make a fool of himself, while trashed beyond belief.

"Cake then?" Ramsay asked.

"Please." You nodded, giving a smile.

"I need a kiss first." Ramsay said, reaching for your face and pulling you toward him.

You placed your lips to his, kissing him deeply. He moved his hand from your cheek to grope and grab at your breasts.

"Stop it." You hissed against his lips.

"You like it." He grinned back, letting a small moan escape him as you slid from your seat to his lap.

"How pissed would your father be if I fucked you right here?" You asked, kissing along his jaw.

"Mm, so pissed." He panted, tipping his head back.

"Good." You purred in his ear, hiking your dress up enough to straddle your husband.

He slid his hands to your hips and gripped hard, as you ground against his pants.

You felt him stir in his pants as he shifted to push his hips into you.

You took one of his hands, sliding it up your dress.

"Gave you a grand to buy underwear and you aren't even wearing any." He said with a small, longing groan as he ran his fingers against you.

"Just wanted you to know that I'm ready." You whispered, biting at his neck.

He shifted I'm his seat, to undo his belt, "how ruined are these pants?"

"On a scale of not to embarrassingly, I'm going to have to go with embarrassingly." You smirked, nipping his ear.

He grinned, peaking his eye open. "We need to move over a couple tables if you're wanting to piss off my father."

"Well, move us." You replied.

"When did you become the bad influence?" He chuckled, cupping your ass as he stood, bringing you with him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing and nibbling at his ear, you made to respond when someone cleared their throat bringing you back to reality.

You pulled away from him to look around.

"Down here." A voice said.

Both you and Ramsay looked down to see Tyrion Lannister.

"Little man." Ramsay chuckled, sitting back down.

You gave a sniff, sliding back into your own seat and fixing your dress.

"Sorry to interrupt. I'm not usually one to be a cock block, but I would hate for such a young, beautiful couple to be caught off guard with their pants down."

You stared at Tyrion, raising a brow.

"What do you mean?" Ramsay asked.

Tyrion nodded at a group of men watching you and Ramsay.

"Fuck them. Jealous fucks." Ramsay said, glaring back at them in malice.

"All the same." Tyrion said, taking a seat at the table.

Ramsay pulled out his cigarettes and offered one to Tyrion, who took it.

"What brings you here?" Tyrion asked, lighting his cigarette.

Ramsay nodded at Matt, who was being held up by Tyene, who was laughing wildly. "Kid's birthday. All my Boys and I spent our eighteenth birthdays here, and so I thought I'd bring the kid as I made him an official Boy this afternoon."

Tyrion watched Matt through his mismatched eyes, a small grin on his face, which was heavily cut and bruised.

"What happened to you?" Ramsay asked bluntly.

Tyrion sighed in his exhale of smoke, "Stannis' little escapade last night. Had a hell of a time trying to keep things together, then father, of course, swooped in and saved the day."

"Ah, fathers. Always stealing the thunder. Aren't they the worst?" Ramsay nodded.

Tyrion gave a bitter laugh, "I will drink to that."

"Hear hear." Ramsay said, turning in his seat to catch a waitresses attention.

She set two glasses down in front of Ramsay and Tyrion, offering you one, but you waved her away.

"Where's your bitch of a sister?"

"Probably off gloating over Stannis' defeat last night." Tyrion shrugged.

You watched Ramsay give a sweeping glance over the room and frown. He sighed, pulled his gun, placed it in your lap, slipping his hand in his pants pocket as he stood up.

You caught the glint of metal as he pulled his hand from his pocket.

"If you'll excuse me." He said, stalking off, grabbing Damon by the elbow as he walked by.

Confused you turned in your seat, seeing the group Tyrion had warned about harassing Matt and Tyene.

Tyrion gave a tut, watching closely as Ramsay tapped the closest man on the shoulder and hit him squarely in the face without a word as the man turned to face him.

Alyn swooped in as Ramsay and Damon tackled the group of men to the ground.

Tyene tugged Matt away from the brawl. He tripped over a chair and fell backward, hitting his head on a the table.

A single gunshot rang out, silencing the room at once; Ramsay standing abruptly, running his hand over his chest and giving a small sigh.

Roose stood there, gun raised, eyes narrowed.

"Ramsay, get out of my club." He snarled, his voice hardly an octave above a whisper that seemed to carry around the room.

Ramsay made a noise, wiping his bloodied lip on the back of his hand, motioning at the men picking themselves up off the ground.

"What of them? They started it!" Ramsay said in a voice of forced calm.

"They are here as my guests." Roose said as if it settled the matter.

"And I'm here as your son!" Ramsay raged, stepping into Roose.

"Get. Out." Roose hissed, narrowing his pale eyes to deadly slits, pushing the barrel of his gun into Ramsay's chest.

"I will remember this. I take back what I said about father of the year." Ramsay said through clenched teeth, a manic grin threatening to show.

He yanked Alyn toward him, grabbing at him, and pulling the bag of powder from him. He turned back to his father and emptied the baggie on Roose's shoes, flinging the empty bag in Roose's face. He dropped a pair of brass knuckles at his father's feet and turned to Damon and Alyn.

"Let's go Boys."

Alyn helped Tyene gather up Matt, and Charlotte appeared at your side, grabbing your empty hand.

You held on to Ramsay's gun and hat, not daring to make eye contact with Roose as you were shunted through the room.

The wind was bitter as you stepped out into the cold night. Ramsay relieved you of gun and hat.

Matt leaned against the wall as you emerged from the top of the stairs. He looked upset, running his hand over the back of his head.

"Sup?" Damon asked, looking Matt over.

"They... I... my shoe." Matt said, unable to string words together in his upset, drunk state.

You looked down to see Matt was only wearing one shoe.

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 6 years

Text

The Gray City - Chapter One

-New York, 1934-

It was only October but the winter came early this year, in this gray city that New York had turned into. With her long, slim dress, the little pink hat and the elegant, brown Oxfords (Y/n) looked like any other respectable woman as she hurried down the street towards the Subway Station on the 110th street, on the upper end of Central Park. A gush of icy wind blew under her brown coat, making her shiver violently and the approaching night did nothing for her comfort.

She tried to think back to her tiny room, wondering if she had closed the window. It would be terribly cold tomorrow if she had forgotten to do so. (Y/n) lived in a room in a small apartment in East Harlem, sharing the kitchen and the bathroom with an Italian family of six. One would argue that this was barely the right environment for a young woman like (Y/n), but it was cheap and sometimes the family even shared their meals with her. And since her job barely paid enough for her to survive, she was glad to have even the smallest bits of support.

Finally she reached the entry to the station, quickly climbing down the stairs to the platforms. She was not late, not yet, but if she missed her train, she would be and her boss would probably fire her. God knew she could not afford being fired.

She reached the platform just in time and slipped on the train easily. Luckily most seats were free at this time in the evening so (Y/n) chose one close to the window and sat down, carefully straightening out her coat and skirt before doing so.

The train picked up speed between the stations and fifteen minutes later the young woman got up again, leaving at the Time Square Station. A turn left, one right, another left and down the 42nd Street until she was standing in front of a glowing sign that announced ‘Night Paradise’. (Y/n) sighed quietly and turned into the small side street next to the entry of the reasonably good-looking hotel, knowing that the hotel business was only the disguise for the strip club that was located behind it.

(Y/n) reached a door that was well hidden in the wall, barely recognizable with the little light of the street lanterns. She knocked a few times and the door flung open, a young woman wearing a prune coat, opening the door.

“Oh, it’s you,” she noticed and stepped aside to let (Y/n) in.

“Good evening, Charlotte,” (Y/n) greeted politely and stepped past the young woman into the narrow corridor.

Both girls followed the sound of laughter and the glimmer of light until they reached a small door that led to a backroom with numerous shelves and wardrobes. The room was filled with about twenty young women, all barely clothed, only wearing panties and bras decorated with feathers, stockings, or skin tight dresses that left barely anything to the imagination.

(Y/n) sighed quietly. Sometimes she wished she would work somewhere more respectable than a strip club. She was only a dancer on stage, away from the groping hands and slimy lips of the men who came every night to be entertained by New York’s most beautiful women, but she still hated the preying eyes on her exposed skin. If anyone found out that she was working here, her reputation would be destroyed, not that she had one to begin with, but especially if the Dinapolis, the family she was living with, found out, they would kick her out of the room and she would have to stay on the street. So working here was better than not earning any money at all, but she could imagine things she would rather do.

Slowly (Y/n) pushed through the moving bodies and clouds of cheap perfume that was being applied, over to a section on one of the shelves that belonged to her. Neatly folded and untouched since yesterday night, her costume waited for her. She took of her coat, then her dress and her shoes. Lastly her socks and underwear followed until she was entirely naked. In the beginning she had felt horrified to undress herself in a room full of people, but there were not many other options. With skilled fingers (Y/n) pulled on the black stockings, the red sparkling panties and the matching bra. Carefully she pulled a golden colombiana mask out of the shelf, weighting the object in her hand. These masks, as beautiful as they were, were uncomfortable to wear. They were itchy around the eyes and pressed into sensible parts of the skin on her cheeks, so (Y/n) waited as long as possible until she put it on.

One of her colleagues, Carry, wandered over to her and involved (Y/n) in a conversation about the new band that would play for the first time tonight. Both Carry and (Y/n) were stage dancers, meaning they were only coming into contact with the men that were performing music. They had to make the band look good, dance around the musicians while moving erotically to the music. That’s how the last band had been fired. A few of the musicians had enjoyed the company of some of (Y/n)’s colleagues too much on stage, so they had to go. Carry helped (Y/n) fix her hair up to a nice updo, while telling her about the band members.

Carry had barely started talking about the lead singer of the new band, someone with stunning brown eyes, from what she had heard, when the bell sounded for the girls to move to their positions. (Y/n) quickly put on the hard colombiana mask and followed the other women who hurried through the door as fast as their heels allowed them, splitting up into two groups. The five stage dancers tippled through the thick, red curtain onto the stage while the rest of the girls spread over the room where the first men were already waiting for them.

When (Y/n) stepped onto the stage, she noticed that the band had already taken place. While she walked out, she tried familiarize herself with her new coworkers. All of them were dark haired, their hair combed back with too much hair gel. They were wearing white dress shirts, and black trousers, bowties and black vests with the letters PATD on their right chest. There was a drummer with a soft, roundish face, a bassist who looked slightly uncomfortable, the lead singer with a golden mask and a guitarist who looked a bit bored.

(Y/n)’s eyes rested on the guitarist for a moment. He was cute; round facial features, long lashes, tall. He looked up from the guitar and to her as she walked past him, taking in her position next to the lead singer, assuming they were doing the usual routine. (Y/n) could feel the guitarist’s eyes in her back and knew that even without saying or doing anything, she had caught his attention the same way he had caught hers.

One should believe that as a dancer she was used to lingering stares, and she was, but this one was different. (Y/n) turned slightly to take a second glance at him. He was still looking at her, but unlike the many men she saw every evening, his eyes did not roam her body. They were fixed on her face, but he quickly looked away when he saw that she was looking at him. That was a first. Usually people tried to hold eye contact with her.

The lights in the room dimmed and the band started playing. The music was different from what the last band had played, the rhythm harder to predict, but (Y/n) enjoyed the music as she started moving around the lead singer. His voice was like velvet, lulling the room into the words of love and broken heartedness. While dancing, she noticed that the singers mask had areas that were covered with music notes, thereby differing from the mask she and her colleagues wore. His lips were plump and pink and what she saw from his eyes, they were in fact a magnificent, deep brown, just like Carry had said. The man seemed surprisingly unimpressed with the five barely dressed women who were running their fingers over his shoulders, back and chest. (Y/n) had never been a big fan of touching strangers so she was glad to be able to stay a bit in the back, moving on her own, running her fingers over her own body seductively instead of someone else’s.

Dancing was almost like a trance. Repeating chords and rhythms, smooth transitions between songs, moving bodies and stuffy air mixed with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol that was no longer illegal. While moving around, (Y/n) tried to get a better look at the other band members, even though she had to stay close to the lead singer, who more than once started wandering around the stage, be it to pat the guitarist’s shoulder or to smash a few chords on the piano at the side.

The drummer barely looked up from his drum set, concentrating on the music most of the time. Sometimes he shot the bassist or the guitarist a glance and a smile, but his eyes never rested on one of the dancers. (Y/n) knew this behavior. She had seen it often with young men who did not know where to look, and men who knew they should not be enjoying the company of women in an illegal club in down town New York. So either the drummer had no experience what so ever with women, he was uncertain about playing in this club, or he was married.

The bassist was not paying any attention to the women around him either. He was focusing on his left hand, making sure he got all the chords right. He was gently swaying to the music they were playing, his eyes sometimes half closed. But there was something about him that made (Y/n) uncomfortable. It was the way he was holding himself in an almost arrogant stance, as if the world was beneath him.

And then there was the guitarist. He seemed pretty bored by everything around him. His eyes were either following his right hand strumming the strings of his beautiful guitar, fixed on the floor or scanning the bar and the crowd as if he expected to spot a familiar face amongst the customers. Sometimes his eyes flickered over to the girls dancing around his bandmate, but he always looked away as soon as he realized that someone had noticed his discreet glances.

(Y/n) was thankful for her ability to get lost in the music and the moving. It would have been some awfully long hours otherwise. But this way time flew by and before she really knew it, the music faded, the band stopped playing and the thin ring of a small, silver bell announced the twenty minutes break. (Y/n) and the other dancers formed the final pose, holding it for several seconds, before the light on the stage dimmed and the girls, together with the band, could leave the stage almost unseen.

The artists walked backstage, led by two of the dancers, into a room that was different from the changing room of the girls. There were several sinks lined along the walls, chairs, benches and a few tables. (Y/n) strode over to Carry, who had started to talk to the drummer, a man called Spencer, as she introduced him to her. He smiled politely and offered his hand for (Y/n) to shake. He seemed to be a nice person, quiet, but interested. They had been talking for a few minutes, (Y/n) thankfully taking a sip from the water cup Charlotte had offered her in between, when the door flung open and a bulky man, the manager of the strip club, Johnson Hansen, walked in.

“I see you are already getting to know each other,” he boomed, smiling widely with showing too much teeth to be sincere. “Girls, let me introduce you to the new band. This is Brendon,” he pointed to the beautiful young man who was the lead singer, “that is Spencer,” he waved to Spencer next to (Y/n), who nodded, “Brent,” the bassist lifted his hand in greeting, “and Bryan.”

“It’s Ryan,” the guitarist corrected. He was the only one who stood alone in a corner, and looked less than pleased to have been introduced with the wrong name.

“Excuse me, Ryan,” Hansen corrected. “And these are our girls, Carry, (Y/n), Charlotte, Luis and Elizabeth.”

He pointed out each dancer and the girls bowed quickly, earning smiles from all the band members, all except for Ryan.

“Now, I really liked your performance so far, but in my opinion we need to spread you girls a little over the stage, don’t you think?” Hansen did not wait for an answer before continuing. “Luis, you dance with Brent from now on, you hear? And…” his eyes scanned the dancers’ faces carefully, “(Y/n), you dance with Ryan.”

(Y/n) nodded, a knot forming in her throat. As cute as the guitarist had seemed in the beginning, as cold was he now.

“Good luck with that,” Carry whispered into (Y/n)’s ear.

She nodded, lips drawn into a thin line, and quickly looked over to Ryan to see his reaction. Judging by his expressionless face, she almost believed he had not listened to what had been said, but the quick flicker of his eyes into her direction gave him away.

Hansen continued giving instructions to the dancers who should stay with Brendon and (Y/n) took the opportunity to try to talk with Ryan, who leant against the wall, staring at his feet.

“I’m (Y/n),” she introduced, reaching out her hand for him to shake.

He looked up, bored as he had been the whole night long. He stared at her hand for a moment before he glanced at her face, but he did not shake her hand.

“Okay,” he mumbled, looking away again.

Oh fantastic, he was absolutely not interested at all. (Y/n) already dreaded the time they had to work together.

“So… since I am supposed to dance with you, do you want to establish rules?”

She knew that for some people physical contact was weird, especially when it was only pretend. She had not that much experience in being a dancer, only the two years she had worked in this club, but establishing rules had always proven valuable so far.

“No touching,” Ryan requested, not looking at her.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” she answered.

Honestly, with the way he was behaving, she would have preferred not to touch him either, but it was expected from a dancer like her.

“Keep your hands above my waist then,” Ryan replied, his voice flat, his eyes still fixed on a spot across the room, “and don’t get in the way of my playing.”

“I can do that,” she agreed.

She knew that trying to continue any kind of conversation would only upset one of them, most likely her, when he would eventually become rude, so she turned around and walked back over to Carry, feeling Ryan’s stare in her back, but she refused to turn around.

The short break was over far too quickly and rather reluctantly (Y/n) followed everyone out of the room and back onto the dark stage, making sure her mask was properly covering her face. She watched as the musicians took their positions behind their microphones and the dancers walked over to the men they were supposed to dance with. She sighed deeply and made her way over to Ryan. He shot her look that (Y/n) did not know how to interpret before focusing back on his instrument. She shook her head, slightly disappointed, and took a pose next to the young man.

The band started to play quietly, and the lights came back on, signaling the dancers to start moving. At first, (Y/n) tried to stay away from Ryan, but soon she noticed how her colleagues were all over their partners. She took a look over at Hansen, who nodded encouragingly towards Ryan. She knew that if she did not start getting into physical contact with him now, she would later get shouted at by her boss. Quickly weighting the discomfort of touching Ryan and being shouted at, she reached out her hand and placed it on Ryan’s shoulder.

The material of his black vest was smooth and warm. She felt Ryan tensing up slightly at the sudden touch, but she pretended not to notice and dragged the tips of her fingers over the fabric, walking around him slowly. She accentuated each step with a sway of her hip, and was well aware of the eyes of the man in the room, resting on her moving figure. When (Y/n) had walked around to Ryan’s other side, she moved her hands down his arm until she reached his elbow. She could feel his muscles move through the thin, white material of his dress shirt and it made her wonder what it would feel like without the fabric under her finger. Yes, Ryan seemed to be an asshole, but a handsome asshole at that. Leisurely she dragged her fingers up his shoulder again, then down his side while leaning forward. She made sure to let her fingers slip off his body the moment she reached his waist, not wanting to upset the young man; it was a matter of morals to stick to the rules anyway. Instead she ran her fingers down her own legs, until she had reached her feet, well aware that this position gave uncompromised view to her curves. Slowly she bent her knees until she was crouching. She lifted her hands up and placed them at Ryan’s side, standing up and massaging little patterns into the shirt and vest, secretly relishing the feeling of Ryan breathing under her fingertips. Once she was stood up again, she ran her hands over his neck, walking back around to his other side.

The night continued dragging on for what felt like years. No matter how hard (Y/n) tried, she just did not fall back into the trance she usually enjoyed during performing. Too distracting was Ryan’s body, the little shivers she managed to draw out of him. More than once their eyes met, but now Ryan kept them fixed on her. The bright light of the spotlights made his dark eyes glow in whiskey brown. Something in his glance seemed almost scared, as if he had told her a secret he was afraid to be rejected for. But there was also some confidence that only grew the further the night progressed.

(Y/n) was exhausted and sweat drenched by the time the band stopped playing and the lights on the stage were turned off. Her heart was beating at a rapid pace and she could not remember the last time a performance had drained her energy as much as tonight.

The lights in the room and over the bar flickered back on, revealing the deserted scene of tonight’s entertainment. A few glasses had rolled off tables, feathers had been pulled out of the decorative elements the girls in the auditorium had worn, and two or three ties were lying on the floor.

The dancers and the musicians said good night, Ryan once again avoiding (Y/n)’s eyes. She shrugged it off, glad to have made it through the night. Chatting and laughing, but tired, the dancers strode back to the changing room. (Y/n) peeled herself out of the thin material of her costume, carefully spreading it out over the little space she had on the shelf so it could dry over the day. She placed her colombiana mask in the back on the shelf to make sure it could not fall to the floor, and put her regular clothes back on, while engaging in some conversation with the other dancers about the band. Everyone agreed that Brendon, the singer, was attractive, and Charlotte and Luis envied (Y/n) for dancing with Ryan; they too had picked up on his good looks.

“I tell you, he is quite rude indeed,” (Y/n) assured her friends, who disappointedly shook their heads.

When all the dancers were dressed and tightly wrapped into their warm coats, they left the changing room and walked through the narrow corridor to the door. (Y/n) was almost out in the back street, when she heard Hansen call her name. Confused she stopped and turned around. The bulky man approached her, big stains of sweat darkening the white shirt under his armpits. He looked nervous and uncomfortable when he started to talk.

“One of the customers the other night…” he hesitated to go on, and a bad feeling settled in (Y/n)’s stomach, “he… you drew his attention to you.”

Hansen looked at her with wide eyes, expecting her to understand what he wanted to tell her without having to say it out loud. But (Y/n) just furrowed her brows.

“He asked,” Hansen cleared his throat, obviously felling terrible for having to have this conversation with her, “he asked to spend a night with you.”

She felt her insides freeze. She was a dancer, she was not supposed to be the person the customers spent the night with. Not even the girls in the auditorium were expected to do that.

“Not immediately, he said, he is ready to give you time to consider… and a fair bit of money as well.”

(Y/n)’s stomach twisted. God, she really could need some extra money, but she was not desperate enough to sell her body yet.

“But… I’m a dancer,” (Y/n) stammered.

“I know, I know, sweets,” Hansen sight, “Only the offer is really good, you know, and he’s been very specific about you.”

(Y/n) could not believe this. The contract she had signed clearly stated that she only was a dancer, that no customer was allowed to touch her. Yet here her boss was, trying to convince her to sleep with one of them.

“I can say no, can’t I,” (Y/n) asked shyly, and Hansen smiled sympathetically.

“Of course, but you should consider it, it would be good for business, you know, for your reputation, too,” he explained carefully, “also the customer will be gone for a good two months, so you have loads of time to make the right decision.”

In other words, she could not say no.

“He is a very loyal customer of ours, sweets,” he continued, “I’d like to surprise him with a nice little Christmas gift, when he is back, you see?”

So the decision had been made without her, without asking her, and without her consent.

Hansen shot her an encouraging smile as (Y/n) felt like the whole world was slipping out of her hands. She had lost all control and was spiraling into darkness. She did not want to sleep with a stranger. And even if she did, she knew that if she did it once, it would be expected of her to do it again, and again, and again.

“See you tonight, sweets,” Hanson whispered, clearly ashamed of having her gotten in this situation.

He turned around and left the still frozen girl standing in the dim light of the small corridor. Somewhere a door opened and voices approached her. The band walked past her, exiting the building through the metal door. Ryan shot her a glance, but (Y/n) was too occupied by her thoughts, to notice the worry in his eyes. Only Spencer stopped and placed a hand gently on her shoulder, pulling her back into reality.

“Are you alright,” he asked concerned.

Tears threatened to spill over and (Y/n) quickly blinked them away.

“I’m fine,” she answered, but her voice broke, giving her lie away.

Spencer smiled softly and handed her a handkerchief he had pulled out of the pocket of the coat.

“If you need help, I am always there, we are, the band, I mean” he offered, trying to catch her eyes.

“Thank you,” (Y/n) whispered.

Spencer patted her shoulder encouragingly and followed his bandmates out into the fading night of the gray city, leaving (Y/n) behind with the head full of thoughts that were spinning and circling and fighting and screaming at each other.

Chapter Two

Original Picture Source: Picture on the top, picture at the bottom

#ryan ross x reader #the gray city #ryan ross imagine #ryan ross fluff #ryan ross #ryan ross x reader fluff #new york #Panic! at the Disco #1934 #1930s #but it's better if you do

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historyrepeatsitself-phff · 6 years

Text

Chapter Eighty-Six

A/N: The masterlist is now completed (finally!) so you can find all the chapters there. Here is another chapter, so I hope you enjoy xx

“I didn’t want to go to a Middleton wedding anyway,” Taylor said loftily, although she scowled slightly as she watched Grace sitting up on her own.

Harry smirked across the room at her. “Then why are you glaring at my baby?”

Taylor blushed and turned her angry gaze to him instead. “I’m just saying, I met Pippa at your wedding. Would’ve been nice to receive an invite.”

“Taylor, none of my friends got invites,” he said simply. “None of William’s did either. Very few people have actually been invited to this wedding that aren’t close friends and family. Don’t take it personally.”

She huffed, but her expression had softened and now she was watching Grace pushing buttons on her noise-machine. Grace giggled at the sound of a fart. “I bet Emmy’s excited.”

“Perhaps.”

“Oh come on, she’s going to the society event of the year,” Taylor replied, with a roll of her eyes. “You two are literally the most stylish couple.”

“Well, some people are just born that way, you know?” he said, pretending to flick his hair over his shoulder. Taylor laughed, then turned serious.

“Give her a good night, yeah?” she said, dropping her voice slightly. “You and Emmy hardly do anything just the two of you anymore if it’s not an engagement. Have fun.”

“We always have fun,” Harry replied simply, but he knew there was pressure for the two of them to enjoy themselves. He was planning on getting some alcohol into himself, and hopefully into Emmy too, and for them to have a lot of fun on the dancefloor, but still there was the expectation. He wondered what Emmy was anticipating.

She came clip-clopping into the room then, her heels suddenly muffled on the carpet, and she smiled as her eyes met Harry’s. She looked lovely in a long-sleeved dress which clung to her figure and fell high above her knees – it was the same dress she’d worn to Trooping the Colour two years earlier, except she had kept well-hidden how short it was. It was a beautiful pale pink, and she paired it with a matching fascinator which Harry also recognised. Her hair was left loose, curled slightly, beneath it, and her cheeks were slightly flushed in embarrassment as she entered the room and had three pairs of eyes on her.

“Ah mah!” Grace said, reaching her arms up and cooing as Emmy lifted her into her hold.

“Hello beautiful,” she whispered, kissing Grace’s head.

“Talking to yourself again?” Harry teased.

“Oh, funny,” Emmy said, although she blushed deeply and looked delighted, even though she pretended not to. “Okay, Grace, are you going to be good for Auntie Taylor?” “When is she not?” Taylor asked, then grinned and reached for Grace. “Come here Gracie Poo! Come here and have cuddles!”

Emmy and Harry laughed lightly as Taylor took Grace in her arms, and then Emmy turned to Harry. She very rarely got to see him in a three-piece suit, and he was wearing his new one which was far better tailored than all his others. It made him look tall, and slim, with broad shoulders and strong arms; he looked amazing, and his perfectly trimmed beard made him look hot. Emmy felt her cheeks darkening slightly as she looked at him, a tug somewhere behind her stomach.

As though Taylor knew what Emmy was thinking – perhaps Taylor was thinking it herself – she smirked and said, “You two better be off, huh? Long drive.”

“You’re probably right,” Emmy said, smoothing down her dress and trying to ignore the gentle warmth in her veins. “Tay, are you going to be okay?”

“Yep, Skippy’s going to come round after work and give me a hand looking after her, so don’t you worry at all, alright?” Taylor said, smiling at her best friend. “You and Harry just let go and have some fun. It’s a wedding – who knows what could happen.” She winked.

Emmy bit her lip to hide a smile, then said, “Yeah, and who knows what could happen here once Grace is asleep upstairs, huh?” She was grinning cheekily.

Taylor’s smirk disappeared, and she scowled. “You guys should go, you’re going to be late.”

Harry got to his feet from where he had been crouched down, tickling Grace in farewell. “What’s going to be happening here when Grace is asleep?” He was frowning, confused.

“Nothing,” Taylor snapped, then shot her friend a glare.

Emmy smirked back at her. “Perhaps. If you’re very unlucky.”

“Just go, Emmy,” Taylor answered. “And maybe while you’re there you’ll remember that you are married, and then maybe you’ll start acting your age a bit.”

“Sure sure,” Emmy said, with a giggle.

“What was all that about?” Harry asked a few minutes later, as he and Emmy walked hand in hand across the lawn towards the car park.

“Oh, nothing,” she replied, with a shrug. “Just a little joke me and Taylor have going on.”

“About her liking Skippy?”

Emmy’s eyes widened in surprise, and she stopped, turning to him. “What?”

He grinned at her. “Did you really think I wouldn’t catch on? You’re not the subtlest of people.”

“She won’t tell me, I’m trying to get it out of her.”

“Christ, Emmy, how old are you?” He threw her a smirk. “You don’t even know whether she does like him.”

“I saw the way she looked at him,” Emmy said. “I can tell. I’ve known her for quite a long time, you know. She doesn’t go gooey eyed for just anyone.”

Harry smiled, giving her hand a squeeze. “Well, just give her time to tell you when she’s ready. It might turn out you were mistaken.”

“Oh come on, you saw the way she reacted! She so likes him!”

“Is that so?” he said absently, smiling to himself. “Funny, for someone sounding so much like a child you look remarkably like a woman.”

Emmy rolled her eyes at the teasing, but she felt herself blushing at the compliment. “And you look somewhere between a rich gentleman and a spy.”

“A spy?” He barked a laugh. “James Bond wears a tuxedo, not a three-piece.”

“Hmm, but he wears a perfectly tailored tuxedo,” Emmy replied. “And you’re wearing a perfectly tailored suit. You owe me, that was my idea.”

“Do I owe you?” he asked. “Or are you reaping the benefits right now?”

She grinned at him. “I must say, I’m pretty partial to this view.” Her eyes roved down him, and then slowly back up. A smirk tugged up the corners of her lips then.

“I cannot believe we have a two hour drive ahead of us,” he said huskily, as they reached the car. Rick, Kev and Jamie were getting into the Range Rover. “Two hours without so much as a kiss.”

“It’ll just make it all the more worthwhile, won’t it?” she said against his jaw, pressing a single kiss to his skin before moving her lips to within inches of his and pulling away again. He swore softly, and she giggled. “We better get going.”

“I hate you,” he said lightly, as he watched her slender curves sink into the passenger seat before closing the door behind her.

Emmy curled her arm through Harry’s, holding onto the crook of his elbow, as the two of them slowly walked up the drive. They were not taking the same route as the other guests, for they wanted some privacy and did not want to steal the show. Instead, they were taking a side path, and they headed towards it. It was cloudy, although glimpses of sunshine tried to burst through, and the air was warm but the breeze was cool. Emmy shuddered slightly as a harsh gust sent a shiver down her spine.

Nonetheless, she felt so elegant and stylish walking beside her tall, handsome husband. She could tell that they looked like such a sophisticated couple, especially with his sexy suit and his signature smirk. She almost wished the paparazzi could see them, for she knew they’d make headlines, but then she reminded herself that this was Pippa’s day, and a new wave of anticipation of seeing Pippa’s dress would roll over her.

Emmy’s heels struggled on the path, and Emmy was paying too much attention to them – and not falling over – that she didn’t even notice that they had reached William.

“Hi you two,” he greeted them, pulling Harry into a one-armed hug before bending down to peck Emmy’s cheek. She smiled up at him. “Emmy, you look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said. She’d made an effort to look classy and simple for this wedding – she was not there to impress, she was there to enjoy the day. “How’s Kate? Is she coping with being Maid of Honour?”

“Oh yes, she’s a bit stressed but she’s fine,” William said. “George and Charlotte are very excited. Charlotte loves her dress, makes me wonder if we’ll ever get her back out of it.”

Harry chuckled. “It’ll be good to see them. It’s been too long.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll see a lot of them, I’m dreading the reception,” William replied. “They’ll be running around screaming I’m sure. Somehow I already can’t wait to crawl into bed tonight.”

“I relate to that,” Harry murmured, as his hand went to Emmy’s waist. As a smile flitted across her face, she elbowed him lightly, trying to tell him to behave.

“Let’s head inside,” William said, starting towards the back gate. “It’s a little chilly in there, Emmy, you might be cold.”

“I’ll keep her warm,” Harry answered simply. Again, Emmy shot him a half-amused, half-embarrassed look.

William threw Harry a roll of his eyes, before changing the subject. “I saw you guys at the garden party yesterday. Was that your first one, Emmy?”

“No, I went to one last year,” she said. “But yesterday was the first time Harry made me go about and talk to people on my own.” She scowled at him.

“I heard you did really well,” William said, as Harry grinned innocently. “Granny was very impressed.”

“Really?” Emmy asked, delighted.

“Granny should always be impressed,” Harry dismissed to her. “You’re always very impressive.”

“At Party at the Palace I couldn’t believe how natural you were with both the kids and the adults,” William agreed. “You seemed so comfortable talking to all of them, now that’s impressive.”

Emmy blushed, but they reached the church now and they quietly made their way inside. It was large, with a high ceiling and beautiful glass windows letting the sunlight filter in. There were lots of white flowers everywhere, and so the usual musky smell of the old building was masked by the flowery perfume that hung above the pews. Harry took Emmy’s hand so that they were not separated as William showed the two of them to their seat. They were sat a few rows back, beside a few girls who were obviously friends of Pippa’s. They took one look at Harry and shared wide-eyed looks. Emmy felt somewhat smug as she took her seat beside him and he pulled her hand into his lap, playing with her fingers.

“I feel like it hasn’t been just us in ages,” he mused to her.

“I know, Grace is always there.”

“I mean, I love Grace, but it’s nice to have some alone time now.”

“Although do we even have anything to talk about now?” Emmy teased lightly. “I swear our entire lives revolve around Grace.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure we’ll find something. Besides, when we get back to the hotel I don’t plan on either of us doing much talking.”

Emmy glanced round to make sure they weren’t being overheard, but as the number of guests in the church grew, so did the chatter, and they were inaudible. The girls beside them were excitedly talking about some guy they’d been stalking on Facebook.

“You can’t say that in here,” Emmy replied, although his words had warmed her insides.

“What? ‘Cause it’s a church?” His voice was sceptical, and he rolled his eyes.

“No,” she said, giggling. “Because someone might overhear us.”

“They won’t be able to blame me,” he said simply. “I mean, look at you.”

She blushed, but playfully she replied, “Look at you.”

“You really like this new suit, don’t you?”

“Can you blame me? For so long you’ve worn baggy suits, and you always looked so good in your uniform,” she said. “It was about time you went to a tailor. And I’m glad you did, you look really nice.”

He threw her a smile. “I think it’s where I’ve lost weight in the last few years, I’ve become a lot more health conscious.”

“You don’t need to be.”

“You say that only because you eat lots of chocolate,” he teased.

She pouted. “You mean, I treat myself.”

“Treat yo’self.”

“Exactly.”

He chuckled at her, giving her hand a squeeze as he looked around the church, seeing which guests her recognised.

“Do you know many people here?” Emmy asked.

“A fair few. Most of Kate’s family I recognise, but only because they were all at William’s wedding,” he explained. “Most people here are Pippa’s friends, I think. Eugenie’s coming, too.”

“Oh is she?”

“Yeah, with Jack.” Jack was Eugenie’s boyfriend.

“Her and Jack are pretty serious, huh?” Emmy smirked.

“Don’t go saying that, we don’t need another wedding anytime soon,” he complained. “Especially not a family wedding. Having your cousin’s is bad enough.”

She rolled her eyes – the following month her cousin Bella was tying the knot, and Harry was attending with her, much to his dismay, since all of Emmy’s family would be there, including Alexander.

“I put up with your family,” she said. “It’s only common decency you put up with mine.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin at that. “Just returning the favour?”

“Exactly,” she said.

“I’d much rather return another favour,” he breathed, leaning close so that his voice tickled her ear. She gasped out in surprise as a delicious shiver rolled down her spine, and she batted at him with a hand.

“What is up with you?” she said playfully. “We are at a wedding.”

He chuckled, shrugging innocently and dropping his attention to her hand, toying with her engagement ring.

It wasn’t long before the wedding march started, and all the guests got to their feet to welcome the bride and all her bridesmaids and pageboys to the church. James, the groom, was stood at the altar alongside his brother, burst into a huge smile at the sight of his fiancée.

Pippa looked beautiful, her dress simple and stunning, her hair pulled up beneath her custom-made tiara. But before she could start her walk down the aisle, six little people toddled out in front of her.

George and Charlotte looked adorable in their matching outfits, Charlotte’s tiny hand in his. They drew “awwws” from the guests, and Charlotte smiled at everyone. George, however, did not like the attention and he kept his head down, following in his mother’s wake.

Kate led the bridal party along the aisle, looking classy in her peach dress. She was the proud mother as she took her seat at the front, a few rows in front of them, and watched her children file into place in front of her.

It was a beautiful ceremony, and then it was time to head out into the sunshine and be seen by the photographers for the first time. As Harry and Emmy followed the guests out into the fresh air, Emmy caught a glimpse of some of the paparazzi, and she turned her face away.

“Just ignore them,” Harry said, rubbing the small of her back. “You look beautiful, let them see it.”

She threw him a smile, absentmindedly tugging her dress down. “I kind of wish I’d worn something longer.”

“You say that every time you wear that dress,” he teased. “Don’t worry, you look gorgeous. Just wait til I get you on the dancefloor later.”

Emmy guessed that Harry was joking – he never danced, only after a few drinks and when she was incredibly flirtatious with him, but as other couples joined the newlyweds for their “second” dance, he got to his feet and held out a hand.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked, smirking at her.

Her blue eyes rose to his in surprise. “Really?”

He barked a laugh. “Quickly, before I change my mind.”

“Okay.” She took his hand and jumped to her feet, letting him lead her onto the dancefloor. Nearby, William and Kate were swaying, and Emmy felt oddly mature as she moved into Harry’s hold.

“Never thought I’d be having a dance like this at 22,” she said, grinning.

He chuckled. “I just wanted to dance with my wife, is all.”

“Oh yeah, that doesn’t sum up what I just said or anything.”

“I used to hate dancing like this,” he said to her. “Chelsy always wanted me to dance, but I used to hate it. It just felt so…fake, I dunno. But now I kind of like it.”

“You’re growing up,” she teased.

“Which is ironic, considering you’re so young,” he replied.

“You’re a daddy now.”

“What have I told you about calling me that in public?” he joked.

“You can’t tell me off about being inappropriate in public!” she gasped.

“Um…that gala was your idea.” He pretended to look innocent. She looked up at him and scowled, and he chuckled. “I’m only joking.” He leant down and pressed his lips to hers gently.

“Harry.” She pulled away as he tried to deepen the kiss, knowing that lots of people were watching.

He pouted. “Just you wait until I get some alcohol in you.”

And while Emmy was determined not to get drunk that night, Harry seemed to have other ideas.

She was sat outside on the grass cuddling George and Charlotte. George was sat having a huge with her while Charlotte toddled around in front of them, picking daisies.

“You start school this year, don’t you?” Emmy asked George. He nodded – he was sleepy and was on the verge of tears, he just wanted to go to bed. “Are you excited?”

“Daddy said it’s very fun.”

“It is fun,” Emmy agreed. “You’ll love it, and you’ll make lots of friends.”

“But Lottie gets to stay home with Mummy.”

“Aw, but Mummy will still see you everyday,” Emmy said. “Charlotte, you’ll start nursery soon too, won’t you?”

Charlotte nodded. “In Jooone.”

“June? Oh okay, so it’ll be soon,” Emmy said. “You must be excited too?”

“A bit,” Charlotte said.

“Aw, you’ll have lots of fun too,” she said. “You both will.”

“Is Gwace at nurswy?” Charlotte asked.

“Not yet, she’s still a bit young,” Emmy told her. “She’s younger than you, isn’t she?”

Charlotte nodded. “Does she like chocwate?”

“She hasn’t had any yet, she can’t eat much yet,” Emmy explained. “But I expect she will love it when she grows up a bit.”

“Here you two are!”

The three of them turned to see William and Harry strolling across the grass towards them, and Charlotte broke into a beam.

“Daddy!” she squealed, running over and throwing herself into William’s arms.

“I’ve been looking all over for you two,” William said, kissing Charlotte’s forehead.

“George is a bit tired,” Emmy told him.

“Oh Georgie, are you sleepy? Shall we get you to bed?”

George nodded, sniffling as he stumbled to his feet, and the two children followed their dad back to the party. Harry handed Emmy a drink.

“Vodka and orange?”

“Mm-hmm,” he said, sitting down beside her. “Perks of weaning Grace, huh?”

“Yeah,” Emmy said, taking a sip and leaning her head on his shoulder. “You ready to go dance?”

He chuckled. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#historyrepeatsitself-phff #Prince Harry #prince harry fanfic #prince harry fanfiction #royalfanficcentral

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