Chocolate 15, Papaya 29 [Divide and Rule]
Title: Some Enchanted Evening
Author: lost_spook
Story: Heroes of the Revolution (Divide & Rule)
Flavor(s): Chocolate #15 (passion), Papaya #29 (I wouldn’t miss it)
Toppings/Extras: None
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1034
Notes: Summer 1949; Edward Iveson/Julia Graves. (Day 2 of the honeymoon. Terrible fluff? I have no excuse for this but my determination to finish my original flavour sets. You should probably shoot me now. /o\)
Summary: Edward is lost inside the most charming illusion he’s ever known.
***
“Coffee?” the waiter said, pausing by their table.
Julia shook her head, and then stole a glance at Edward, an amused gleam in her eyes.
“No, not for me either,” said Edward hastily, and then looked back at Julia, who laughed, leaning her head on her hand, her cheeks flushed, as she watched him in return. “Julia?”
She drew back into her chair. “I’ve gone all light-headed from the champagne,” she said. “I always do, if I’m not careful. You’ll have to hang onto me in case I fall down the stairs.”
“I’ll make a note of that for future reference,” he said, with a brief grin, and then rose from the table, holding out his hand to her. He didn’t really need any encouragement to keep a hold on her as he ushered her out of the hotel’s dining room and up the main staircase. At the top, he looked at her again, and said, “You don’t really need any help, do you?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Julia in an undertone as they stopped by the door to their room, “but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. You never know.”
Edward had to laugh, opening the door and pulling her inside.
“You know,” Julia said, leaning against the door to close it as he faced her, “I had the funniest feeling when I woke up this morning and it’s been the same all day.”
“Julia,” he said, in alarm at what she might be going to say next.
She shook her head with a smile, moving nearer to him and taking hold of him by his jacket. “No, no. It’s only that I’ve been happy nearly all day - and I’d forgotten the way that felt.” She looked up at him.
He wasn’t sure what to say. “Julia,” he began again, halting uselessly and drawing her closer instead, leaning his head against hers: she smelled somehow of all the parts of this July day they’d shared - the sunshine, the grass outside, the champagne, and her rose-scented perfume threaded through everything.
“Oh,” she said, suddenly sounding more serious, “and I am only the very smallest bit tiddly, honestly.”
He laughed again, and she tugged at his jacket before kissing him a little clumsily and then moving across to the bed to pull off her light summer’s dress. Edward took that as his cue to shed his jacket and tie, doing so gratefully. It was too warm for such things, but he wouldn’t dream of not dressing for dinner at a time and place like this. That done, he sat down beside her, sitting on the bed in her petticoat. She gave him another bright smile and lay down, one arm flung up by her head on the pillow.
He didn’t need any champagne, Edward thought; he’d been in a state of intoxication all day as it was just being with her. He’d woken up next to Julia, they’d gone for a walk and a picnic together in unusually perfect weather, and he knew what she meant about the unfamiliar sensation of happiness, interspersed in his case by moments of something akin to terror. He was trying to navigate himself back to a more rational position and not having much success. He was beginning to suspect that there might be no such thing when it came to the way he felt about Julia. That was the trouble with affairs of the heart; they tended to irrationality.
She’d said, yesterday, that they should pretend, make believe that they were any other couple on their honeymoon and he hadn’t argued; he couldn’t want right now to do anything else, to be anywhere but here. It was simultaneously more than he had any right to ask of her and also the lie he was already telling himself inside his head, papering it over the painful truth.
“Oh, God, Julia,” he said, looking down at her, leaning forward to touch her face, her hair. She laughed lightly, turning her head to kiss his hand. It was only an illusion, though, no matter how charming it might be. He felt the fear tighten in his chest again. He didn’t need to pretend; it was time to own to himself at least that no matter what disclaimers he tried to hedge the fact round with, he already loved her. It was still much too soon to be sure of that, he’d kept trying to tell himself; one simply didn’t fall in love almost at first sight, not even at second or third or fourth sight, but here he was nevertheless. If he said that to her, though, it would spoil the evening; it would shatter this beautiful illusion, because if he was sure of anything yet when it came to Julia, it was that she was too essentially honest to take her pretending that far: she would never say those words unless she meant them.
She lifted her head, watching him curiously. “Edward?”
“It’s all right,” he said, and kissed her before straightening up and unbuttoning his shirt.
“I do like you,” she said suddenly. “I do. It might be an odd agreement, but I wouldn’t have gone through with it with just anyone. So, I do.”
Edward smiled, but it hurt a little. Oh, God, he thought, they still had tomorrow here, but how would it be when they left this little bubble of unreality and returned to London to find out what sort of mess they’d made of their lives?
“And you should know,” said Julia, “that if I'm like this, I shall probably just talk and talk - unless you stop me.”
He laughed, and thought then only that they still had tomorrow, and what was the point of worrying about what came after? Maybe the world would end before they had to leave, who knew? He obliged by kissing her again and Julia put her arms around him, keeping him close. Some things might be a pretence, but she was utterly real: her cheeks still heated from the wine, her arms cool against his neck and her body warm under the thin petticoat. It wasn’t, he knew, only an illusion that he surrendered to so willingly.
***
Author: lost_spook
Story: Heroes of the Revolution (Divide & Rule)
Flavor(s): Chocolate #15 (passion), Papaya #29 (I wouldn’t miss it)
Toppings/Extras: None
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1034
Notes: Summer 1949; Edward Iveson/Julia Graves. (Day 2 of the honeymoon. Terrible fluff? I have no excuse for this but my determination to finish my original flavour sets. You should probably shoot me now. /o\)
Summary: Edward is lost inside the most charming illusion he’s ever known.
***
“Coffee?” the waiter said, pausing by their table.
Julia shook her head, and then stole a glance at Edward, an amused gleam in her eyes.
“No, not for me either,” said Edward hastily, and then looked back at Julia, who laughed, leaning her head on her hand, her cheeks flushed, as she watched him in return. “Julia?”
She drew back into her chair. “I’ve gone all light-headed from the champagne,” she said. “I always do, if I’m not careful. You’ll have to hang onto me in case I fall down the stairs.”
“I’ll make a note of that for future reference,” he said, with a brief grin, and then rose from the table, holding out his hand to her. He didn’t really need any encouragement to keep a hold on her as he ushered her out of the hotel’s dining room and up the main staircase. At the top, he looked at her again, and said, “You don’t really need any help, do you?”
“I shouldn’t think so,” said Julia in an undertone as they stopped by the door to their room, “but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. You never know.”
Edward had to laugh, opening the door and pulling her inside.
“You know,” Julia said, leaning against the door to close it as he faced her, “I had the funniest feeling when I woke up this morning and it’s been the same all day.”
“Julia,” he said, in alarm at what she might be going to say next.
She shook her head with a smile, moving nearer to him and taking hold of him by his jacket. “No, no. It’s only that I’ve been happy nearly all day - and I’d forgotten the way that felt.” She looked up at him.
He wasn’t sure what to say. “Julia,” he began again, halting uselessly and drawing her closer instead, leaning his head against hers: she smelled somehow of all the parts of this July day they’d shared - the sunshine, the grass outside, the champagne, and her rose-scented perfume threaded through everything.
“Oh,” she said, suddenly sounding more serious, “and I am only the very smallest bit tiddly, honestly.”
He laughed again, and she tugged at his jacket before kissing him a little clumsily and then moving across to the bed to pull off her light summer’s dress. Edward took that as his cue to shed his jacket and tie, doing so gratefully. It was too warm for such things, but he wouldn’t dream of not dressing for dinner at a time and place like this. That done, he sat down beside her, sitting on the bed in her petticoat. She gave him another bright smile and lay down, one arm flung up by her head on the pillow.
He didn’t need any champagne, Edward thought; he’d been in a state of intoxication all day as it was just being with her. He’d woken up next to Julia, they’d gone for a walk and a picnic together in unusually perfect weather, and he knew what she meant about the unfamiliar sensation of happiness, interspersed in his case by moments of something akin to terror. He was trying to navigate himself back to a more rational position and not having much success. He was beginning to suspect that there might be no such thing when it came to the way he felt about Julia. That was the trouble with affairs of the heart; they tended to irrationality.
She’d said, yesterday, that they should pretend, make believe that they were any other couple on their honeymoon and he hadn’t argued; he couldn’t want right now to do anything else, to be anywhere but here. It was simultaneously more than he had any right to ask of her and also the lie he was already telling himself inside his head, papering it over the painful truth.
“Oh, God, Julia,” he said, looking down at her, leaning forward to touch her face, her hair. She laughed lightly, turning her head to kiss his hand. It was only an illusion, though, no matter how charming it might be. He felt the fear tighten in his chest again. He didn’t need to pretend; it was time to own to himself at least that no matter what disclaimers he tried to hedge the fact round with, he already loved her. It was still much too soon to be sure of that, he’d kept trying to tell himself; one simply didn’t fall in love almost at first sight, not even at second or third or fourth sight, but here he was nevertheless. If he said that to her, though, it would spoil the evening; it would shatter this beautiful illusion, because if he was sure of anything yet when it came to Julia, it was that she was too essentially honest to take her pretending that far: she would never say those words unless she meant them.
She lifted her head, watching him curiously. “Edward?”
“It’s all right,” he said, and kissed her before straightening up and unbuttoning his shirt.
“I do like you,” she said suddenly. “I do. It might be an odd agreement, but I wouldn’t have gone through with it with just anyone. So, I do.”
Edward smiled, but it hurt a little. Oh, God, he thought, they still had tomorrow here, but how would it be when they left this little bubble of unreality and returned to London to find out what sort of mess they’d made of their lives?
“And you should know,” said Julia, “that if I'm like this, I shall probably just talk and talk - unless you stop me.”
He laughed, and thought then only that they still had tomorrow, and what was the point of worrying about what came after? Maybe the world would end before they had to leave, who knew? He obliged by kissing her again and Julia put her arms around him, keeping him close. Some things might be a pretence, but she was utterly real: her cheeks still heated from the wine, her arms cool against his neck and her body warm under the thin petticoat. It wasn’t, he knew, only an illusion that he surrendered to so willingly.
***