A House Is Not A Motel - CHAPTER 3 / 8
Author: kitty69lover
Rating: PG-13
Category: dramaz!!!
Characters: Anaïs Fernandez, Victor Valdes, Rafael Marquez, Kaka in a negative role aaaaaaand, a few surprises ;-))
Length: short story - 8 chaps
Warning: stemming from a dream, it's a little outrageous, ok.
Summary: the trademark Kitty spin of the classical love triangle.
Disclaimer: this is pretty much fiction.
Authors Notes: this is the birthday gift for my girl calypso_63 ! it was aweeesome meeting you hun and i hope it happens again. i'm happy i managed to write this, it was probs the oldest unfinished project in my fiction folder.
THREE
The reception was the most glamorous event possible, given the 3 days' preparation time Anaïs had been granted. Wearing a white backless lace dress, strewn with pale pink and yellow sequins, with matching stiletto pumps, her long hair carefully arranged by the best hair stylist available in an apparently loose bun, Anaïs was floating about the room, chatting with her guests, all smiles and radiating the real happiness of a fresh and in love bride.
Victor was more somber, in a dark grey suit with a yellow and pink tie, matching his wife's dress (and Anaïs' hand in preparing the outfits was more than obvious) and he sat aside, by the bar, watching his guests and admiring her, everything about Anaïs striking him as remarkable, from her grace and her good cheer, to the very simple and dignified way she had managed to make the wedding possible without attracting too much negative gossip.
He particularly admired her casual and charming behaviour towards him and the way she had managed, even fooling him at times, to turn their apparent life-long friendship into a secret burning passion that well, no longer had to be kept secret.
As he watched her blow him a kiss all the way from the other side of the ballroom, where she was caught in conversation with her brother, swiftly excused from school for a couple of days and flown in to make the whole event legitimate, he could even believe she might grow to love him and turn their charade-to-fool-the-insolvency marriage into something real.
He felt a little bad for pulling this on her, for fooling her the way he did, because of course there would've been other legal remedies for her issues, although his proposition was not entirely fictional, as it did ensure the quickest way to dealing with the problem, and for that reason alone, he wasn't somersaulting throughout the room nor exhibiting any sort of crazy happiness dance.
All he wanted was to be able to care for her, to show her a different, more stable life, and to protect her from the kind of heartache she had been prone to ever since she had made her debut in society and had started dating.
He would be cautious, because he knew her so well, since she was the littlest girl he had ever seen, with eyes so large and of incessant speaking, and he was well aware she would go ballistic if she ever found out she had been conned.
But later that night, when the guests had left and a slightly drunk Anaïs slipped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and beginning to kiss him clumsily, when her warm body writhed against his and her breath on his neck too much to bear, Victor could not control himself any longer and he took her to his bed and despite the promises he had made himself, made her his.
Because even if she was quite out of herself and obviously would have not done this had she been sober, she was pushing into him and kissing him and crying out his name as he made love to her and damn it, she was his wife and he was only a man, a man that already was so in love with her, resisting her that night would have been impossible and the most foolish thing ever.
*
Waking up next to Victor the next morning, realising they have consummated their fake marriage, Anaïs felt rather strange. She looked at him, as he slept on his back, head tilted towards her and for the first time ever saw him as a man, beautiful, desirable, sexual, powerful and protective.
Yes, maybe had that not been their pretend wedding night and had she not been fairly tipsy, she would've never slept with him, not when for the longest time she could only picture him in knee long shorts, socks and a pristine white shirt neatly tucked in, his school uniform - her earliest memory of him, but the deed was done and she had to admit she had landed herself a very good husband.
Almost giggling at the thought of how things came to be, she began snooping around his bedroom, a place she had never been into before, no matter how many times she had been in his house and how good friends they were and seeing that he was sound asleep, and his laptop sat on the desk, inviting, she decided to check her mail.
After all, she had been half dead for the first part of the week and the rest she had spent preparing the wedding, so she thought it was about time to reconnect with the virtual world.
Digging in her 254 unread emails laden inbox, deleting spam and unwanted magazine subscription offers, Anaïs reached one message, received two days before, that made her heart tremble and sink painfully.
At first, she didn't even want to open the email from Rafael. The mere thought that he was still writing her, that he was still there, albeit on the other side of the planet, ready to be with her or at least meet once to discuss, unknowing all the revolutions her life had gone through made her almost nauseous.
But then, her innate curiosity got the better of her and she clicked on it, just to see what he was saying, even if she was well aware it would only make her feel worse.
Dear Anaïs,
I know this seems preposterous now, but I’ve been thinking a lot about you and even though our meeting, or should I say date? - I blushed as I typed the word - is still so far away, I feel like I could wait forever for it, and that time is passing so fast.
Our correspondence stopped about a week ago and I got worried.
She had to take a deep breath. She had to control herself to not scream in agony.
I got worried, so even though you were supposed to reply, I'm writing you this. How silly of me, you must be busy. But anyway, to not make this email completely pointless, let me tell you that I've researched for hotels in Shanghai and you should definitely stay at a local owned one, rather than at a hotel from an international chain. They're very atmospheric. Quaint. Traditional.
There was a list of hotels, full with addresses and phone numbers that Anaïs skimmed over before reaching the last line of the message.
I'm giddy. Does it make me seem immature that I cannot wait to see you again?
In hope you'll write back soon and that everything is OK,
yours,
Rafa.
She wiped hot tears and glanced over her shoulder at Victor, still soundly asleep. She had so many options, none of them leading to a happy ending. She could simply not reply, and maybe change her email address, never open this one ever again.
Surely, Rafael would give up after a few unanswered emails, right? Rereading the email again, she became unsure. He - not very unlike her, before her life had been turned upside down - was pretty determined to make this happen.
She could reply and tell him what had happened, explain to him that their relationship was a dead end now. But as she clicked reply, she could not bring herself to put into words the events that had lead to her marrying another man in the span of a week. Only then, she began to see how preposterous this whole thing was.
She could also tell him off, in more or less aggressive terms, but she almost slapped herself for this idea, as the kind of man Rafael was did not deserve such a rebuttal, out of the blue and so out of character.
Dear Rafa,
I've been a little ill. No access to emails kind of ill. But things are OK here, now at least, so don't worry. The thought of seeing you, even after a long time, possesses me still and I will check those hotels you recommend :-)
You're not immature at all, or at least not the type of immature I don't approve of. I'm equally giddy.
Be safe and take care,
A
The mouse cursor hovered over the send button for the longest time, as Anaïs stared at the screen, unable to delete the lie nor write anything else instead, her heart urging her to hold on to the tiniest thread of hope.
She couldn't lose Rafa. She knew things might escalate, but she would rather tell him face to face than over the bloody internet. After all, Victor had assured her she would be free, free to continue her life just as before.
“Anaïs!”
Victor's voice startled her and before she knew it, she had pressed send. Closing her eyes and logging off, she turned around to look at the man that, unbeknown to him, had cut her wings.
“Hey.”
“Getting busy on the net already?” he grinned.
“I had so many emails, you have no idea!” she chirped in good humour, hiding her pain deep inside.
She turned to face the screen and closed the browser slowly, allowing her resolve to sink in. This marriage was just on paper. She would not allow it to go anywhere, and Victor was only her best friend and now her benefactor. Her happiness lied with Rafael Marquez and she would pursue that, whatever it took. So when Victor leaned over and attempted to kiss her, she ducked and his lips brushed her cheek instead.
Rating: PG-13
Category: dramaz!!!
Characters: Anaïs Fernandez, Victor Valdes, Rafael Marquez, Kaka in a negative role aaaaaaand, a few surprises ;-))
Length: short story - 8 chaps
Warning: stemming from a dream, it's a little outrageous, ok.
Summary: the trademark Kitty spin of the classical love triangle.
Disclaimer: this is pretty much fiction.
Authors Notes: this is the birthday gift for my girl calypso_63 ! it was aweeesome meeting you hun and i hope it happens again. i'm happy i managed to write this, it was probs the oldest unfinished project in my fiction folder.
THREE
The reception was the most glamorous event possible, given the 3 days' preparation time Anaïs had been granted. Wearing a white backless lace dress, strewn with pale pink and yellow sequins, with matching stiletto pumps, her long hair carefully arranged by the best hair stylist available in an apparently loose bun, Anaïs was floating about the room, chatting with her guests, all smiles and radiating the real happiness of a fresh and in love bride.
Victor was more somber, in a dark grey suit with a yellow and pink tie, matching his wife's dress (and Anaïs' hand in preparing the outfits was more than obvious) and he sat aside, by the bar, watching his guests and admiring her, everything about Anaïs striking him as remarkable, from her grace and her good cheer, to the very simple and dignified way she had managed to make the wedding possible without attracting too much negative gossip.
He particularly admired her casual and charming behaviour towards him and the way she had managed, even fooling him at times, to turn their apparent life-long friendship into a secret burning passion that well, no longer had to be kept secret.
As he watched her blow him a kiss all the way from the other side of the ballroom, where she was caught in conversation with her brother, swiftly excused from school for a couple of days and flown in to make the whole event legitimate, he could even believe she might grow to love him and turn their charade-to-fool-the-insolvency marriage into something real.
He felt a little bad for pulling this on her, for fooling her the way he did, because of course there would've been other legal remedies for her issues, although his proposition was not entirely fictional, as it did ensure the quickest way to dealing with the problem, and for that reason alone, he wasn't somersaulting throughout the room nor exhibiting any sort of crazy happiness dance.
All he wanted was to be able to care for her, to show her a different, more stable life, and to protect her from the kind of heartache she had been prone to ever since she had made her debut in society and had started dating.
He would be cautious, because he knew her so well, since she was the littlest girl he had ever seen, with eyes so large and of incessant speaking, and he was well aware she would go ballistic if she ever found out she had been conned.
But later that night, when the guests had left and a slightly drunk Anaïs slipped into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck and beginning to kiss him clumsily, when her warm body writhed against his and her breath on his neck too much to bear, Victor could not control himself any longer and he took her to his bed and despite the promises he had made himself, made her his.
Because even if she was quite out of herself and obviously would have not done this had she been sober, she was pushing into him and kissing him and crying out his name as he made love to her and damn it, she was his wife and he was only a man, a man that already was so in love with her, resisting her that night would have been impossible and the most foolish thing ever.
*
Waking up next to Victor the next morning, realising they have consummated their fake marriage, Anaïs felt rather strange. She looked at him, as he slept on his back, head tilted towards her and for the first time ever saw him as a man, beautiful, desirable, sexual, powerful and protective.
Yes, maybe had that not been their pretend wedding night and had she not been fairly tipsy, she would've never slept with him, not when for the longest time she could only picture him in knee long shorts, socks and a pristine white shirt neatly tucked in, his school uniform - her earliest memory of him, but the deed was done and she had to admit she had landed herself a very good husband.
Almost giggling at the thought of how things came to be, she began snooping around his bedroom, a place she had never been into before, no matter how many times she had been in his house and how good friends they were and seeing that he was sound asleep, and his laptop sat on the desk, inviting, she decided to check her mail.
After all, she had been half dead for the first part of the week and the rest she had spent preparing the wedding, so she thought it was about time to reconnect with the virtual world.
Digging in her 254 unread emails laden inbox, deleting spam and unwanted magazine subscription offers, Anaïs reached one message, received two days before, that made her heart tremble and sink painfully.
At first, she didn't even want to open the email from Rafael. The mere thought that he was still writing her, that he was still there, albeit on the other side of the planet, ready to be with her or at least meet once to discuss, unknowing all the revolutions her life had gone through made her almost nauseous.
But then, her innate curiosity got the better of her and she clicked on it, just to see what he was saying, even if she was well aware it would only make her feel worse.
Dear Anaïs,
I know this seems preposterous now, but I’ve been thinking a lot about you and even though our meeting, or should I say date? - I blushed as I typed the word - is still so far away, I feel like I could wait forever for it, and that time is passing so fast.
Our correspondence stopped about a week ago and I got worried.
She had to take a deep breath. She had to control herself to not scream in agony.
I got worried, so even though you were supposed to reply, I'm writing you this. How silly of me, you must be busy. But anyway, to not make this email completely pointless, let me tell you that I've researched for hotels in Shanghai and you should definitely stay at a local owned one, rather than at a hotel from an international chain. They're very atmospheric. Quaint. Traditional.
There was a list of hotels, full with addresses and phone numbers that Anaïs skimmed over before reaching the last line of the message.
I'm giddy. Does it make me seem immature that I cannot wait to see you again?
In hope you'll write back soon and that everything is OK,
yours,
Rafa.
She wiped hot tears and glanced over her shoulder at Victor, still soundly asleep. She had so many options, none of them leading to a happy ending. She could simply not reply, and maybe change her email address, never open this one ever again.
Surely, Rafael would give up after a few unanswered emails, right? Rereading the email again, she became unsure. He - not very unlike her, before her life had been turned upside down - was pretty determined to make this happen.
She could reply and tell him what had happened, explain to him that their relationship was a dead end now. But as she clicked reply, she could not bring herself to put into words the events that had lead to her marrying another man in the span of a week. Only then, she began to see how preposterous this whole thing was.
She could also tell him off, in more or less aggressive terms, but she almost slapped herself for this idea, as the kind of man Rafael was did not deserve such a rebuttal, out of the blue and so out of character.
Dear Rafa,
I've been a little ill. No access to emails kind of ill. But things are OK here, now at least, so don't worry. The thought of seeing you, even after a long time, possesses me still and I will check those hotels you recommend :-)
You're not immature at all, or at least not the type of immature I don't approve of. I'm equally giddy.
Be safe and take care,
A
The mouse cursor hovered over the send button for the longest time, as Anaïs stared at the screen, unable to delete the lie nor write anything else instead, her heart urging her to hold on to the tiniest thread of hope.
She couldn't lose Rafa. She knew things might escalate, but she would rather tell him face to face than over the bloody internet. After all, Victor had assured her she would be free, free to continue her life just as before.
“Anaïs!”
Victor's voice startled her and before she knew it, she had pressed send. Closing her eyes and logging off, she turned around to look at the man that, unbeknown to him, had cut her wings.
“Hey.”
“Getting busy on the net already?” he grinned.
“I had so many emails, you have no idea!” she chirped in good humour, hiding her pain deep inside.
She turned to face the screen and closed the browser slowly, allowing her resolve to sink in. This marriage was just on paper. She would not allow it to go anywhere, and Victor was only her best friend and now her benefactor. Her happiness lied with Rafael Marquez and she would pursue that, whatever it took. So when Victor leaned over and attempted to kiss her, she ducked and his lips brushed her cheek instead.