Give In, Give In [And Relish Every Minute of It] Part 5/5little_elfieJune 19 2014, 00:18:16 UTC
Give In, Give In [And Relish Every Minute of It]
The Walk
Esmeralda almost doesn't want go back to the house the following Saturday. Not after what Clopin said. Besides, it's been pissing down all day and she doesn't really fancy going anywhere in that weather. She dithers over the decision all afternoon until the thought of Quasimodo - and the money, of course - eventually draws her back to that familiar doorstep. Claude looks surprised to see her.
"Didn't you get my text this morning?"
"My phone's on the blink again. I dropped it in the bath last night."
"Oh..." Claude moves aside to let her in out of the rain, "Quasimodo's not here. He's staying over with Hercules tonight. I did text to let you know. To be honest, I didn't think you'd be coming back anyway."
Esmeralda shrugs, "That was my fault, not yours. You were right. It's not my place to talk to your son about drugs...or anything else like that."
Claude receives her apology with a smile, the first she's had from him since they met. An awkward silence follows. He breaks it, "Cup of tea? Coffee?" He's still smiling. He looks different when he smiles. It's a good different, Esmeralda decides after a moment of contemplation.
"Yeah, tea would be great."
They drink tea in the kitchen and talk. They talk about their lives, their hopes and dreams and failures. They talk about Quasimodo. Things get a little emotional, a little strange. It's a good strange, Claude decides. He opens a bottle of wine. They finish it and he opens another one. They order pizza. Pizza. Whiskey. Whiskey and dancing...
And then it's all a blur of tangled limbs and kisses and all manner of lovely things until they wake up together in his bed late the next morning, all shy smiles and raging hangovers. She lights two cigarettes and hands him one. What a cliche. It's awful. It's wonderful.
"Dad? Dad, you're late for work."
No. It's awful.
Breakfast is an ordeal. They sit in silence, embarrassed and bedraggled, Esmeralda wearing one of Claude's shirts. Quasimodo isn't embarrassed. Well, no more than any other fourteen year old boy upon finding his father in bed with a young woman. He seems pleased actually, bustling around the kitchen and chattering away about his sleepover with Hercules, bringing them coffee and paracetamol. Esmeralda retrieves her clothes from the lounge, grinning ruefully when Claude plucks her bra from the doorknob. He walks her home. The rain has cleared and the sky is blue. They don't speak until they reach her flat. Clopin is at the window, making lewd gestures and laughing. Esmeralda gives him the finger.
"Last night was nice."
"It was," Claude smiles, obviously relieved, "Do you still think I'm a bloodsucking viper then?"
"Of course." She chuckles and tilts her chin, reaching up to brush her fingertips across the lovebites which adorn her throat.
He winces, still embarrassed, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be silly," Esmeralda chides, touching his hand, "I'd like to do it again sometime."
"Me too."
"It's a date then?"
"Definitely."
She turns to check that Clopin is not watching before pulling Claude into a kiss.
He can still taste her when he finally makes it into work.
Re: Give In, Give In [And Relish Every Minute of It] Part 5/5afterandalasiaJune 20 2014, 22:08:10 UTC
Oh my god. *flailing delight* I love this so much! I think it was the: She's outspoken, free-spirited, liberal, provocative and, as suspected, completely unsuitable. Naturally, Quasimodo adores her.
When I totally lost it and started laughing aloud. But I love this to bits and then some. The chemistry was really hot, and I loved the characterisation.
The Walk
Esmeralda almost doesn't want go back to the house the following Saturday. Not after what Clopin said. Besides, it's been pissing down all day and she doesn't really fancy going anywhere in that weather. She dithers over the decision all afternoon until the thought of Quasimodo - and the money, of course - eventually draws her back to that familiar doorstep. Claude looks surprised to see her.
"Didn't you get my text this morning?"
"My phone's on the blink again. I dropped it in the bath last night."
"Oh..." Claude moves aside to let her in out of the rain, "Quasimodo's not here. He's staying over with Hercules tonight. I did text to let you know. To be honest, I didn't think you'd be coming back anyway."
Esmeralda shrugs, "That was my fault, not yours. You were right. It's not my place to talk to your son about drugs...or anything else like that."
Claude receives her apology with a smile, the first she's had from him since they met. An awkward silence follows. He breaks it, "Cup of tea? Coffee?" He's still smiling. He looks different when he smiles. It's a good different, Esmeralda decides after a moment of contemplation.
"Yeah, tea would be great."
They drink tea in the kitchen and talk. They talk about their lives, their hopes and dreams and failures. They talk about Quasimodo. Things get a little emotional, a little strange. It's a good strange, Claude decides. He opens a bottle of wine. They finish it and he opens another one. They order pizza. Pizza. Whiskey. Whiskey and dancing...
And then it's all a blur of tangled limbs and kisses and all manner of lovely things until they wake up together in his bed late the next morning, all shy smiles and raging hangovers. She lights two cigarettes and hands him one. What a cliche. It's awful. It's wonderful.
"Dad? Dad, you're late for work."
No. It's awful.
Breakfast is an ordeal. They sit in silence, embarrassed and bedraggled, Esmeralda wearing one of Claude's shirts. Quasimodo isn't embarrassed. Well, no more than any other fourteen year old boy upon finding his father in bed with a young woman. He seems pleased actually, bustling around the kitchen and chattering away about his sleepover with Hercules, bringing them coffee and paracetamol. Esmeralda retrieves her clothes from the lounge, grinning ruefully when Claude plucks her bra from the doorknob. He walks her home. The rain has cleared and the sky is blue. They don't speak until they reach her flat. Clopin is at the window, making lewd gestures and laughing. Esmeralda gives him the finger.
"Last night was nice."
"It was," Claude smiles, obviously relieved, "Do you still think I'm a bloodsucking viper then?"
"Of course." She chuckles and tilts her chin, reaching up to brush her fingertips across the lovebites which adorn her throat.
He winces, still embarrassed, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be silly," Esmeralda chides, touching his hand, "I'd like to do it again sometime."
"Me too."
"It's a date then?"
"Definitely."
She turns to check that Clopin is not watching before pulling Claude into a kiss.
He can still taste her when he finally makes it into work.
Nicotine and toothpaste and semen.
It's a good taste.
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When I totally lost it and started laughing aloud. But I love this to bits and then some. The chemistry was really hot, and I loved the characterisation.
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