PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@estclle-blog
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
Estelle considered that a moment, then nodded. "I suppose that's true." When he asked her who she was for a brief moment she was surprised, it was pretentious perhaps but she didn't met very many people who didn't know her by name at least. Then again she barely met anyone outside her industry and those in media and limelight. She was not the type to venture out to meet new and different people. Mainly because she took on so much load that there was no time for it. Even most her social life was made up of work engagements. "I am a fashion designer. I started the fashion house Stelle Couture." She replied to his question. She worked with photographers all the time yet she got the feeling it wasn't something they would be able to find common ground on.
Before they knew if the five or so minutes long song was over. And they released each other though she remained at his side none the less not wanting to give off the appearance that he made her uncomfortable or that she was overly reluctant toward him. Neither were true after all. So far she was just neutral, indifferent, perhaps even relatively curious about him. But only because she would be spending so much time with him for the next few weeks not because she held some notion about this thing actually being real. Her stance on relationships and love would not change, or so she told herself.
âOkay, I was sorting through my bag to see what I had that I would need for the honeymoon, and I found some special brownies I brought. There would be no fun in eating them alone, so do you want to join me. I mean unless youâre like a cop or something, then you didnât hear any of this.â
"You do realize we're being filmed right? Is getting high really worth possibly looking like a fool on television? ...Well actually that ship probably sailed that Halloween when we were together." She said casually as if she hadn't said something mildly offensive somewhere in that sentence. Then again that was just Estelle and he'd been around her long enough to know there was never any real malicious intent behind her words normally.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
michaelxbutera:
Michael was grateful that Estelle didnât harp on his fumbling and stuttering, but at the same time, that got him to wonder what sheâd think when she found out that he stuttered his way through most conversations until either he got to know you well, or he was saying something for a reason. He debated starting a conversation with her, but everyone was talking, laughing, and giving speeches on the stage, and Michael felt like it mightâve been rude if he did. So, he held off really talking to her, and settled on politely clapping and smiling at and thanking everyone who came up to him and congratulated him.
Then, the emcee of the reception took the mic and asked him and Estelle to come on stage for the first dance. He wasnât exactly nervous about having to dance because he wasnât a complete klutz (even though everyone thought he was when hey first met him), but he was nervous because he was told to pick out the song, and he could already see his coworkers that made up the band of his team gathering up, taking over for this particular song to perform âThinking Out Loudâ for them. Holding Estelleâs hand and guiding her towards the stage, he gave her a tight lipped smile, somewhat sensing that she wasnât exactly comfortable. Putting his hands on her waist, he gently swayed as the song, sung by Dani, began to fill the room. âSoâŚâ who are you? âI hope you donât mind the song? They had me pick it out.â
It took a moment before she fell into rhythm with him, years of ballroom dancing lessons had made her decently keen to beats and steps. Had things been done more traditionally with planning and choreography between the the couples, this song would have been perfect to waltz or tango too. Though at the moment he seemed to be just swaying, and she followed his lead the pace allowing her to focus more on the lyrics of the song. She glanced up at him when finally spoke up, subtly surprised. âOh...â She muttered, now curious as to why heâd chosen that song. The lyrics somehow more daunting knowing it wasnât a random selection by a third party.
âAny particular reason why you chose this song?â She asked after a full minute of absorbing the lyrics. It was a...sweet song a bit too romantic for her taste but honestly most things were. Romance had never held much appeal to her. Dating had been ruined for her far to young, in fact she actively tried to repress those memories. Now she rather a guy screw her senseless not saying a word, and leave as soon as possible before the moment grow even slightly intimate. âI wouldnât have guessed you were a photographer. I didnât get that sense while we were on the balcony.â She said after a while.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
michaelxbutera:
Michael had been pretty nonchalant about his question - he wasnât really one to judge Estelleâs ability to be a mother or anything, but he knew instantly that he was wrong about that, and probably shouldnât have asked, when Ana looked at him like he was crazy and Estelle practically choked. âSorry,â he muttered underneath his breath. âOh, right. Nice that you have a⌠uh. Goddaughter.â While heâd been keeping the awkward stutters to a minimum as much as possible, that moment made his brain short circuit for a moment, awkward embarrassment filling him immediately. He continued to make small talk with Ana as the reception started.
Michael felt pretty indifferent about the gnocchi doled out before him, and he took a few small bites, since he was a little hungry. He smiled as Mayra walked onto the stage with Ana, and gave a small speech about Estelle before making a toast. There wasnât anything that surprising, save for the couple of moments that some embarrassing information mightâve been brought up. He rested a hand on Estelleâs shoulder, hoping she wouldnât clam up or blow up. They made the toast, and it was Michaelâs friendâs turn to do the same. Wesley took the stage, and after calling him a âgrumpy camera holderâ - Michael rolled his eyes and laughed - he made a toast to the couple as well, adding a cheeky âdonât break his heartâ at the end. Michael rubbed his hands nervously as he knew that he and his bride were going to be called up to the stage, and to do what, he wasnât even sure himself.
Estelle just nodded brushing off his fumble. Taking a note of the slight stutter in his voice but not commenting on it, or deciding what to make of it. Her attention returned back to the stage. When his friend took the mic from Mayra and went on to speak she listened, surprised when he revealed that he was a photographer. She realized that was probably something she should have asked him. But they hadnât really talked at all tonight had they? That was probably something they should do, if not for their own personal benefits but for the cameras. Sheâs jumped through a few of the episodes of a previous season in hopes of finding out what to expect. The process had given her too much stress for her to really watch the show, but she did notice the cameras loved picking up on âimportantâ conversations.
Most of their meal was finished by the time the speeches and toasts were finished. It was not long after that someone new took the mic, and invited them to the dance floor for their first dance. She looked over at him for a long moment, her face reading this is going to be a long night. She took his hand and walked with him to the dance floor. It was then she realized that a first dance song was one of the things her friends had asked opinion on and that meant they most likely had forgotten about it. What generic song were the show runners going to go with she wondered just as the music started and she glanced over to where the music equipment was before glancing back to him letting him take the lead. Still curious about the song selection.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
Michael wasnât exactly the type to always be working out, but being a photographer, he wasnât unfit either. Estelle was rather light, so he didnât have too much trouble carrying her. Once she nudged him, he set her back down, not fighting her on it. She seemed to take charge of the whole situation, saying that there were enough shots, and while everyone looked slightly afraid to step out of line, Michael didnât really feel affected. He didnât know why, but maybe it was because while being so close to her he felt the tenseness in her body, the way that she almost stressed herself up, and that made him feel a little bit better that she was completely out of his league. Again, they were surrounded by crew, and Michael stood still, letting them fuss with him however they liked. As production flitted about and they were lead to a different place, Michael almost instinctively reached out to guide Estelle as well, not because he thought she needed it, but he preferred to know that she was safe.
A small smile reached Michaelâs face as he stepped into the reception with his bride, one part of him dying to look around at the wedding that had been arranged for him, the other part more invested in making sure he didnât step on Estelleâs train, or something. The ballroom was clearly divided into âMichaelâs sideâ and âEstelleâs sideâ, and while neither of them had huge crowds waiting for them, Estelleâs side looked a little empty, which made Michael frown a little. However, looking over at Estelle and seeing her smile, suddenly, it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, he could at the very least spend the rest of the six weeks learning how to put that smile on her face. He split from Estelle for a short few minutes to say hello to his friends and coworkers, giving them all a quick hug, before gravitating everyone over to a section of the ballroom. The place was big, but honestly it didnât look like any of them were the type to book down a hundred tables for their wedding. Michael smiled warmly at the little girl perched on Estelleâs lap, wondering if she had a daughter or something. Maybe she was divorced, or widowed. He shrugged it off for now though, especially when the girl crawled her way into his lap. While he found it difficult to communicate usually, kids were easier for him. He felt less judged. The girl was quite amiable with him, and he held her hand as she talked to him. âHi, Iâm Michael. Is that your momma?â he asked while pointing at Estelle.
Estelle's attention had drifted to Sophia who was whispering something to her about the arrangements. Thankfully she was sitting close enough to hear Michael's conversation with Ana. When she heard him ask her if she was her daughter her attention darted back to them, nearly choking on the wine she'd been taking a sip from. Thank god it didn't slip from her hand and spill down the front of her gown. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin before answering for her, the question clearly confused the little girl. "Ana is Mayra's daughter. I'm her godmother." She clarified, a bit surprised he'd draw the conclusion. Had she looked to be behaving motherly, she had never considered herself that maternal.
Not long after the servers began to bring out plates of food. She was glad for it, it had been hours since she'd last eaten. Her hunger even more pronounced when she saw it was gnocchi being served for the starter, one of her favorite dishes. Once everyone had settled on their tables Mayra took stage with Ana on her leg to give a toast. It was fine for the most part but she did say more than she'd have liked. Anyone else would've been embarrassed she was mildly displeased with her friend.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
Michael wasnât sure if it was Estelle that was confusing him, or maybe he was just confusing himself - it wouldnât be the first time something like that happened. But for whatever reason, he just couldnât really get to Estelle, and everything he said seemed to bounce back and blow up in his face. It wasnât that he wasnât used to it or anything, it was more that if there was one person he hoped would understand him, it would be his spouse. Huh. Tough luck on that, he guessed.
Hearing that Estelleâs father hadnât turned up, which he guessed he knew, but still, was a little saddening for him. If his parents could be here in person, he knew that they would, that was for sure. Theyâd drag themselves out of a hospital bed and be hooked up to various machines and wheel themselves in, and still, theyâd be darned if they werenât there. But Michael knew that they were still here, he just couldnât see. So, he could only imagine what it was like for Estelle. To have a father that, perhaps, didnât care about her at all. He didnât say anything in reply, and instead just caressed her waist comfortingly, nodding. She was probably feeling all sorts of emotions then, and Michael figured it would be best to let her sort it out herself. By any standard, he thought he was failing the husband test pretty badly.
âUh⌠yeah. I think so.â He adjusted her in his arms, to make sure he wouldnât drop her, before letting her take the lead in whatever pose she felt what would work best. He didnât move much, just let the photographer snap photos while Estelle adjusted them in a way that hopefully looked good. The photographer almost looked relieved, which Michael smiled at slightly, because he knew that feeling. As she pulled him into a longer and intense kiss, he felt himself loosening up a little, kissing back. He didnât know if it would really be considered attraction, what he was feeling, but it wasnât distaste⌠yet. He found himself being okay, at least, holding Estelle and kissing her behind the quiet snapping of the camera.
It took her a moment to grow comfortable and know that she wasnât going to be taking a five feet drop from his arms. Perhaps she had underestimated his strength as he looked pretty lean in his dark suit that made no clear indication to his muscles. They kissed until the need for air arose, after which she nudged him to set her down announcing that should have been enough for the photographer her tone definitive leaving no room for discussion, her boss voice as Mayra often put it. This time when the crew came forward to fuss over her dress and hair she didn't snap at them, being much calmer than before the shoot. She let them fix her hair settling any strands that stuck out of place before they were ushered back inside her cheeks flushed from the cold. She had begun to feel it once he was no long holding her, the man was like a space heater.
After production shifted around some cameras and did whatever it was they needed to do the couple was lead into the reception space. She held his arm loosely taking in the well decorated and dimly lit space, her bridesmaids had certainly done a great job with that little time they had to work with. There may not have been snow outside but stepping into the reception you certainly got that feeling especially with little twinkling falling lights on all the windows. It was all so beautiful that she had a genuine smile on her face as she walked in with her new partner. The claps and cheers of their friends to be heard as they took their seats. Each of them then were bombarded with new faces to meet, though her list of guests was much shorter than his. The paparazzi that had filled up most of her side of the wedding hall were no where in sight and she knew she had Sophia and Mayra to thank for that. That left the two of them, and some of her close business friends. Ana, her goddaughter sat on her lap though most of it looking at Michael shyly for a while before she actually climbed into his lap without a word staring him down a moment before introducing herself and animatedly speaking to him from that point forward. As if the five minutes she just stared at him was just her deciding whether she would like him or not. Estelle watched them very closely genuinely interested.
Sheâs the type of person to look you right in the eye when she lies, but not one to look you right in the eye when her heart is involved.
Itâs not that sheâs faint of heart, sheâd just rather it stop than skip a beat because sheâs not one for feeling weak.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
estclle:
Estelle was, clearly, better at posing than Michael was. The photographer had to direct him quite a bit more than he had to for Estelle. But at the same time, heâd been in the photographerâs shoes enough times to know more or less what was wrong just by looking at his face. In general, the whole photoshoot was going pretty smoothly, with Michael becoming surer and surer that Estelle was at least some kind of famous model person. It made sense. He tried his best not to let his insecurities of that show on his face though, instead focusing on the photoshoot itself. He wasnât at tactful as Estelle, even though logically he knew that what he was supposed to do. He mentally gave her kudos for being able to hold herself so well, especially when she was seconds away from a breakdown earlier.
Michaelâs hands slid down to Estelleâs waist, not lingering. He tried his best not to make Estelle feel uncomfortable. The long moment was probably one of the most awkward ones in his life, because he knew it sounded out of place and a bit weird, but heâd never been good with words. People never understood exactly what he was trying to say. Nodding, he replied, âI know. And thatâs okay. But that doesnât change anything.â Speaking softer and slower helped him stop the sometimes uncontrollable stuttering and awkward pauses in his speech, and he said what he did with a purpose, which was so much easier than the literal days of small talk he had to have with everyone in the mansion. For some reason, the fact that Estelle also didnât look like she spoke much made it easier for him to talk to her too, even though he imagined that it would be harder. Single sentences that didnât make sense at first were his comfort zone.
Michael immediately knew when the âcan you kiss and pick the bride upâ moment was coming, heâd used it countless times to get couples to warm up to him too, he nodded, not wanting to cause trouble. Glancing one more time at Estelle to make sure she was okay with it - she was rather emotionless, as usual -, he secured her around him before picked her up bridal style (no pun intended) and leaning his head close, letting her close in the gap. She probably knew the right kissing angles or something, which wasnât something Michael knew anything about. He was more of a in-the-moment kind of photographer. This was⌠definitely not in the moment.
Estelleâs frown wasnât blatantly obvious due to the camera but the emotion definitely flashed in her face a moment. He knew nothing about what she was feeling right now, so how could he say that her emotions werenât justified, that she shouldnât be upset. First of all she was angry at herself for allowing him to see any of that at all. Damn her mother for undoing her, or at least setting her on the course to unravel. With that thought she decided to change the narrative and get things back on her terms. She refused to let her mother get in her head anymore. She knew heâd heard the questions the reporters were asking, and therefore knew she had a father, who was not present at the ceremony. Facts she could let him in on, emotions she could not. âMy father isnât here, Iâm allowed to be disappointed.â Not sad, but disappointed which was a better word for angry. More than Gerard she was angry at herself for ever making that call and asking him to come in the first place, setting herself up for the disappointment. But he didnât need to be told that, the less she said the more open for interpretation her words were.
The blonde gripped him tighter as he lifted her up, glancing down she pursed her lips before looking at him. âYouâve got this right?â She asked, if he dropped her there would be no hiding her anger. As the photographer continued to prompt them she relaxed her face, looking at him as he leaned into her, she leaned forward with her head tiled just a bit letting her lips brush his a moment knowing that would make for just as good of a picture as a kiss, there was something about capturing a couple that way that was more sensual than kissing itself. Placing her hand on his jaw she finally pressed her lips to his in a proper and intense kiss. First firmly pressing her lips to his, then kissing his top lips than bottom slowly giving the guy enough time to take the pictures he needed. From how many times he said perfect behind them she must have been doing something right, though she found herself zoning his chatter out after a moment.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
estclle:
michaelxbutera:
It seemed to Michael that either he was very lucky, or very unlucky, as his wife, the apparent strongest girl who couldnât be fazed by anything, seemed to crumble before his eyes. He watched closely, taking in her actions, watching for the signs that Sophia had mumbled to him in a rush just minutes ago. Feeling her stiffen, he debated letting go, but then decided to just leave his hand on top of hers, trying to comfort her. Estelle only looked at him for a second, but that second was enough to know exactly what was affecting her. Or at least, almost exactly. He found himself wondering what could have happened in her family that made her like this, but given the questions hurled at her⌠he had a pretty good idea. She was like a puzzle, he was taking information from everywhere and trying to fill up the gaps she apparently didnât really want him to see.
Michael remembered the last time he had dreamed of a wedding. Though that time, he had dreamt it with another. The fleeting moments that he thought he was the one, until the moment truly arrived and he realised he wasnât ready for it back then. A small part of him would always wonder what it wouldâve been like, his parents there, someone that heâd been loving for years next to him, promising devotion. Would that have been better? Would that have been better, even though he then never wouldâve become a photographer? Was this fight in this hopeless setting worth it?
And then, that stoicism again. The same way she walked, the same way she talked, this hard shell that he would never be strong enough to crack through. Either sheâd crumble at his hands and heâd have to try and put back the pieces, or heâd be talking at a brick wall for six weeks. He didnât know which was worse. Still, he wordlessly nodded, offering his hand to her so he could pull her close and follow the photographerâs instructions on how to pose to look more âcouple-yâ. Although he didnât necessarily feel like running for the hills when she was close to him, he didnât exactly feel safe either. It felt⌠kind of like sitting on an eggshell. He looked into her eyes, and then whispered, âThe bride should only be crying of happiness on her wedding day,â completely without context, hoping sheâd get the layers of meaning laced into that sentence.
Perhaps the only thing she would ever have to credit her mother were countless skills. Sure it meant she hadnât a single moment to herself the first eighteen years of her life but at least she thought she was making an investment in their âfamily legacyâ at the sacrifice  of her daughter. While she hated modeling it didnât mean she was bad at it, being bad at anything her mother put her too was never an option. Whether it be painting a picture with her face, to transform into some else entirely for the camera or something like ballet, or horseback riding. That certainly helped her here, she didnât need much direction or prompting by the photographer, she knew her angles, and how to best position her body from head to toe for each shot. Always subtly angling her ring toward the camera knowing that it was one thing wedding photographs always drew attention too.
Posing intimately didnât bother her much either, all this was fairly PG compared to some of the shoots sheâd done in the past. Being flush against another model bare from the waist up for a Levi spread, was by far one of her worst modeling experiences. Not a single person there had seemed to care that she'd been just barely seventeen, as long as her mother consented what did it matter? They were at their third pose when Estelle stepped into him to drape her arms around his shoulders, with his height doing so brought her even closer to him. Sheâd been gazing into his eyes for the shot when his words made her stiffen a moment. âI am not the flushed face, rosy cheeked, shyly smiling type of woman.â She replied quietly after a long moment. Really looking at him for the first time since theyâd stepped out of the crowd.
He might have been paying more attention to her than she'd given him credit for, and that more than any of this made her close up. They would be spending a lot of time together in the next six weeks away from their normal routines, with nothing to do but make an attempt to âget to know one anotherâ like the show wanted. The thought made her antsy, she who had once or twice timed dates sheâd been on in recent years, a woman who almost never let a man linger longer than five minutes in her bed once theyâd fucked. Six weeks could be the equivalent of six years. âIf youâre comfortable you can lift her up, perhaps kiss a bit? The backdrop is just perfect for it!â The photographer prompted, probably encouraged by their willingness thus far. She simply stared at him, leaving the decision to him.
ââŞÂ°The Ring
What couples do you think are going to be full of the most drama
Ahh⌠thatâs a good question there. You know me, Iâm always hoping that everyone becomes messy, but so far ? Michael and Estelle look like a right m e s s waiting to happen, and weâll see if Sebastian and Avalon even make it down the aisle⌠was someone left at the altar ?? As for the rest, well, I guess we just have to wait and see.
Is Estelle's family as insane as they already sound ???
Probably. I mean, if you want a taste of the Delacroix family d r a m a, just go Google their names. Literally all youâll see is gossip. Their family is a mess.
absolutely nothing.
Le DĂŠbut D'Une Nouvelle Vie
As the couple were being dragged towards the balcony, Michael started hearing some⌠not-so-nice questions being hurled at Estelle. Given the fact that all they could ask him was how he felt and what he hoped for, since, well, there werenât really any parents or siblings for them to ask about, Estelle took the weight of all those questions. On top of that, if the press knew the names of her entire family and her brother was married to some royalty of sorts⌠Michael figured that either she was royalty as well, or just incredibly famous and rich. Either way, he felt a little bit less important than he already did. Clearly, she was meant to marry someone else. This whole this was a publicity stunt. Just perfect, now he was involved in some crazy publicity stunt.
He didnât have much time to get moody about that though, because from the corner of his eye, he was starting to see the Estelle that people talked about. Well, kind of. She seemed irritated by the makeup artist, even though it didnât look like the makeup artist was doing anthing but their job, and the crew looked helplessly over at her and him. Maybe her reputation made everyone think that sheâd be a bridezilla. As if he was going to be able to do anything about that, even if she were.
Still, he figured he was going to have to try. Blocking out the cameramen, perhaps turning on their cameras to catch this moment of drama, he stepped next to her, but not too close that he invaded her personal space, save for his hand which lingered near, trying to get her to release her tight grip on the railing. âAre you⌠are you okay?â He asked softly, mustering all his guts and bracing himself for Estelle to take out whatever frustration she had onto him. He wouldnât be surprised if she did. Just six weeks, Michael, he thought, six weeks, and sheâll never want to see you again.
No one had to tell her her family was screwed up, sheâd known that fact most her life. Normal for them was very different than normal for most others. Only a number of equally elitist families could compare. And she hated it. She hated what her parents had shaped her into, the damage irreversible. If perhaps it was one thing than maybe sheâd be coping a bit better with the day. There was this marriage, her mother, her father, the press, the need to put on a halfway decent smile for her friends, and the worry of being away from her routine for six weeks, just the idea that someone else would have control over her life made nerves ignite tension rippling through her, making her like the tightly wound spring she so often was.
She did not jerk her hand away when he came to stand beside her though she did stiffen when he attempted to pry her fingers off from the railing. Her gaze flicked up to him a moment before she remembered her eyes were glazed over from the tears she was holding back. She looked straight ahead again taking in the beautiful scenery once more remembering that this wedding was nearly everything she once wanted. Albeit dialed back quite a bit as it was much smaller than a normal wedding. Mayra whoâd planned it seemed to remember everything sheâd ever gushed about to her on the topic. A winter wedding, what was missing most importantly was the snow. She could hardly remember the girl that had wanted this wedding, clearly sheâd been too young and hopeful.
âIâm fine.â Estelle said her voice calm, and stoic. It was her greatest talent she often felt, being able to put up a cold front no matter how she truly felt. It bothered her that this man was going to be so close to her around her more than anymore else for the six weeks to come. Seeing more of her than any other guy ever had. She couldnât maintain that front twenty four seven, if today was any indication the more pressure that piled on the harder it was. She would not let herself be vulnerable to him, it wasnât an option. "We should start.â She muttered inhaling as she straightened her shoulders.