T O R C H

#[ lonely eyes ]#[[ SURPISE ]]

cunningandbeautiful:

Drew lifted an eyebrow at the words, pink lips turning upwards in a humorous smirk. Oh, he was going to be fun to play with. She brushed her fingers through her silky, dark hair let her eyes unashamedly drag slowly down his body, from his shirt that clung a little too tightly to his biceps, the way his jeans clung perfectly to his thighs. She dragged her teeth slowly across her lower lip as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bar in a way she knew would make her chest look good. “You do now,” She said in a soft yet confident voice.

She wanted him.

“Call me Drew.”

She tilted her head to the side a bit as she caught his green eyes, a glint of humor and excitement in her eyes. She had expected to go home empty handed tonight, growing weaker and weaker as each day passed that she spent the night alone. But not now. Now she could play.

Sometimes it could be tricky coming to bars like this, especially when she was trying to find someone to drag home. A handful of times she had been on the television doing press conferences for the news, especially now with the string of arsons. So, occasionally, someone would recognize her. Though she didn’t exactly care what anyone thought about her “character” considering she didn’t have an ounce of genuine good in her body, maintaining an appearance was important. But he looked mesmerizing.

“Now tell me your name.” She said, keeping her voice soft so he would have to lean in or come closer to her to hear over the whooping and hollering of men at the pool tables, the bursts of laughter from those crowded in booths, and the chanting of the sports fans watching a random game on the dingy television.

Even at his worst, Jordan Parrish believed himself to be a true gentleman; respectful of any woman (or person of any gender, really), even the felonious ones who so often sat across from him in cuffs during interrogations — the ones who spat at him, cursed him, tried propositioning him, or even downright threatened and assaulted him. It was his job to be impartial, to be of higher morale than most — he took that job seriously. So when the woman across from him, this ‘Drew’, leaned forward, her position stretching the fabric of her shirt taught across her chest, Jordan barely noticed. His eyes stayed fixated on the dilated pupils, the gorgeous eyes of the gorgeous woman sitting before him; but he smirked in acknowledgement of her blatant advance on him, and while he didn’t lean forward to bridge any gaps between them, he also didn’t back away.

“Jordan.” he said, grabbing his glass of whiskey off the bar beside him and taking a sip. The amber liquid tickled his throat — it never burned the way others’ said alcohol did, but, then again, most of things that seemingly burnt others didn’t quite seem to affect him. “Jordan Parrish.”

A burst of loud whooping and hollering behind him caught his attention; a Saturday night in late August, no doubt a baseball game was on. When he turned to face a large mounted television in the corner, he saw the unmistakable logos for two teams he’d cheered for — the LA Dodgers were coming up against the New York Mets. At one point, he may have felt conflicted, but as he sat there taking another, much larger swig of whiskey, Jordan felt himself silently wishing the Dodgers would obliterate the mets. Any time he spent in New York was a distant memory — the Academy, Megan, all of it. He was different now.

And one of the most obvious signs of change was his willingness to travel to local LA dive bars late in the night, hoping to take a woman home. Though he doubted his ability to go through with a hook up, really. His eyes flicked back over to Drew and stayed there, focused on her face. Now that he was grappling with the idea of taking her home, now that he was truly analyzing her, Jordan found himself wondering why she looked so familiar to him. It was a thought he finally voiced, saying, “You know, I feel like I’ve seen you before. Definitely not here,” he scoffed through a small smile, motioning with his free hand to the colorful crowd surrounding them. “But somewhere.”

cunningandbeautiful

LONELY E Y E S ||

#[ lonely eyes ]#[ drew ]

cunningandbeautiful:

@capt-parrish

Drew had been sitting in the downtown bar for about an hour and a half now. There was an old jukebox that was playing an old country song, not very loud but just loud enough that silences wouldn’t be awkward. She was working on her third beer, sipping it and exchanging glances with men across the room. Most of them were over forty-five years old, drooling and unashamedly adjusting themselves while leering at her. It was disgusting, but it was something she was used to. She was hungry. She wasn’t weak and lifeless, but she was hungry enough. The only problem was, no one here seemed like they would suffice. She never stooped low enough to go for the old, creepy men. She’d rather starve.

She twirled her finger over the rim of her beer and seriously contemplated calling it a night. Sure, she could drive a few miles and head over to another bar, but it was starting to get kind of late if she was going to take someone, it needed to be soon. She brushed her long, dark hair behind her ear and inhaled the scent of stale cigarettes, beer, and musk. She scrunched her nose, why had she chosen this place.

She pressed her dark pink lips together, bright blue eyes flickering around the room one last time. Just as she made eye contact with the bartender to gesture for him to end her tab, she heard the door open and felt a cool breeze. She heard a crowd of older women start whooping and hollering, and she scrunched her eyebrows together and turned to see what the commotion was about.

There was a young man, about the same ‘age’ that Drew was, scruffy dirty blonde hair, and bulky muscles. She leaned back a bit, wetting her lip and grazing her teeth across her lower lip. She liked what she saw. Her eyes followed him, unnoticeably, until he was close enough to her. She turned towards him a bit, resting her elbow on the table and dragging the top of her index finger around the rim of her empty beer, “Are you gonna stand there all day or join me for a drink?” she questioned, her voice just the edge of a purr.

After two hours tossing and turning through stale linen on a mattress far too hard for his comfort’s sake, Jordan Parrish had finally resigned himself to the irritated acceptance that he would not see sleep any time soon that night. He figured it had something to do with the faint smell off an ex-lover that lingered on the sheets he’d been too lazy — or, more realistically, too wistful — to bring himself to bundle together and throw into the wash. Not that it would have mattered, anyway. Arianne’s perfume hung all around the loft, no matter how many times he’d febreezed the joint.

Running fiery palms over his face, pressing them to his eyes until little black spots danced behind his lids, Jordan lunged out of bed and threw on the first shirt he’d seen slung over his dresser and changed into a pair of worn jeans. There was nothing there for him at home but the sound of crickets and an empty bed there to taunt him, keep him awake. He was going out, and he had the most perfect little dive bar in mind — a place he’d gone before for a few drinks too shit to be tasteless and a few burgers too thin to be worth ten dollars, and yet, as Jordan slid his riding helmet onto his head and swung a leg over his bike, he couldn’t really think of anywhere else he’d rather be to get his mind off of, well — just about everything.

By the time he’d pulled into the parking lot and unstrapped his helmet, he’d almost convinced himself that he wasn’t some crazed supernatural freak with a unique ability to set himself and other things on fire, and he certainly wasn’t all too bothered with thoughts of the girl who left him with eyes wide in terror when she discovered his little skills. No, not at all — he was focused only on the way trails of smoke blew past him in a smog like cloud when he opened the door; the embarrassing yet flattering way older women ogled and jeered at him with playfully harmless hoots and hollers, drowning out the whining guitar and equally whining drawl of some hick singer coming from that old jukebox in the corner.

Absentmindedly, he strolled over to the bar and leaned his elbows forward, resting against it, waiting for the bartender to stop yelling at some obnoxious patron and pour him something stiff. That’s when he heard a voice, seemingly breaking directly through all the chaos of raised voices and country songs and clacking billiard cues and balls — a purr that embodied the truth behind the saying that the best way to grab the attention of somebody isn’t through shouts, but through whispers. Jordan arched an eyebrow and glanced over, only to feel the breath being taken right from his lips, like he’d been hit by a car.

A gorgeous woman with long black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a dangerous sort of charm about her was looking at him, talking to him, and he was embarrassed to realize he had no idea what she’d even said. With a bit of a throat-clearing cough and an all-too curious tone, he asked, maybe a bit too abruptly to sound polite, “Do I even know you?”

rosesandcharms:

Lydia folded her arms across her chest, head tilting slightly to the side as Jordan spoke. She pressed her lips together–she understood where Jordan was coming from. “First and foremost, whether you’re worried about this or not, you’re going to be a great father.” She said, a small smile curling on her lips.

She sighed softly and nodded her head, “Those are serious, legitimate worries. But, if the right person is taking care of her, and I don’t mean you, I mean a doctor who knows what they’re doing then there’s a high chance that she can make it to term, and if there’s any complications, especially dealing with the supernatural elements then you’ll know.” She didn’t know if Jordan had spoken with Peter about this, but if anyone could help Drew it would probably be him. He could provide the help they needed from both a doctor and supernatural point of view.

She moved closer to him and squeezed his bicep, “We’re going to figure out what you are, Jordan. But Drew is strong, you just have to take it one step at a time.”

It hit Jordan right in the chest:

Father.

That was the first time he’d heard the word out loud; Drew hadn’t even said it to him. Sure she said she was pregnant — obviously it was his, he trusted and believe that — but she never associated him with any paternal sorts of nouns or adjectives; it was all implied. Hearing the word applied to him for the first time made Jordan feel many things, but the top of that list was woozy. He placed his hand on the arm of one of the chairs in front of Lydia’s desk, and when he still felt fuzzy, he sank weakly into its cushions.

Father.

If that hadn’t been enough to get the emotions in him all jumbled around like a bad smoothie, Lydia had to just keep talking, making suggestions that, quite frankly, made everything worse. Still anything but composed, Jordan indignantly drew up from his seat and pointed a dangerous — albeit, slightly faltering — finger at Lydia, and all but yelled, “Peter Hale is not—”

He broke off suddenly, looked behind himself; making sure he had indeed shut the door behind him and that nobody else was in earshot of the office, he turned back to Lydia and stepped closer to her, then dropped his voice to a deadly hiss of an angry whisper, “Peter Hale is not looking at my future wife’s...”

He motioned wildly at his pelvis with his hands, “...area.”

rosesandcharms:

There was a million and one things that Jordan could have told her, and the last thing she expected to come out of Jordan’s mouth was that Drew was pregnant. The grin on Lydia’s face faded slowly, now that hit a little harder than the wedding announcement. “Oh.” she said, twisting around so he wouldn’t see her facial expression. Another pang of envy swept through her.

“That’s..great, right? I mean, you’re happy about that?” She asked, moving some paper around on her desk to act like she wasn’t just hiding her face. She finally turned back to face him, a closed-mouth smile on her face. “That’s something I can congratulate you on, right? Oh–that’s not. That’s not why you asked her to marry you, is it?” She asked seriously, her tone switching to serious-mode.

The second after telling Lydia Drew was pregnant, Jordan was overwhelmed with apologetic guilt. Lydia was fidgeting with documents on her desk, refusing to look at him, and it didn’t take a MENSA level IQ for him to figure out that she was jealous. Even when she turned back around, the smile on her face seemed more forced and less open — whatever happiness she felt for Jordan was drowned out by the envy she felt for him instead. He hated that for her, but he wasn’t going to pity her — Lydia was too prideful to be pitied, and they both knew she deserved better than to be condescendingly felt bad for. Marriage and pregnancy, after all, weren’t races — at least not to Jordan — and whatever he and Drew had could still just as easily be messed up at the last minute. Which is why he couldn’t lie to Lydia when he answered her question.

Jordan shifted his eyes downward to the carpet, mumbling, “I don’t know, really...I was happy at first, I — I guess I still am, but, overall...I’m just worried. And not like, normal first-time-parent worry — I mean, that too, but, like...worried about every thing else. What Drew is. What...ever the hell I am. Who knows what supernatural cocktail — who knows if she’ll even come to term...?”

Or survive if she does.

rosesandcharms:

“Had you told me about it I could have told you you’d be stupid not to ask. I swear Jordan, if I ever find out that you’re keeping huge news from me again, I’ll–I’ll kick you!” she threatened, narrowing her eyes at him before a little smile crossed her face.

“When’s the wedding going to be? Oh! You can tell Drew if she needs help planning I’ll be more than happy to do it!” She said with a grin. She felt a rush of jealousy, and if she actually did help Drew plan the wedding, her jealousy would increase even more.

All of Jordan’s muscles tensed even harder as Lydia continued speaking. With a nervous chuckle and a shifty gaze, he murmured, “W-well, there’s something else — but I just found out, too, so, it’s not like I kept it from you, okay...”

A pang of guilt stung in Jordan’s chest. He always thought she would be the one to get married first. Have kids first. The last thing he wanted was to shove his happiness in her face, especially with all the drama she had going on with Peter. It didn’t feel right and it certainly didn’t seem fair, but Parrish knew Lydia would either find out now from him, or later when Drew began showing. The latter option possibly resulted in Lydia kicking him. Regardless of that — Jordan really needed some help.

“Drew’s pregnant.”

rosesandcharms:

At first, Lydia thought that she had heard Jordan wrong. It took her a few seconds before her eyes widened and a grin spread across her face, “Oh, my God. Jordan!” She screeched, lunging towards him to wrap her arms around him in a huge hug. She squeezed him tightly before pulling away, grabbing his shoulders and holding him at arms length like a proud mother. “I’m so happy for you. Oh, Jordan, this is fantastic!”

Her grin quickly faded though and she curled her fingers into a fist and slammed it into his shoulder as hard as she could. “Why didn’t you tell me you were planning on doing it? What the hell?”

Jordan deeply considered telling Lydia that Drew declined his proposal. How could he do that, though? The instant he saw the smile spread on Lydia’s face, one came over his own and he let his happiness get the better of his joking nature for once, sinking into his best friend’s arms for the brief moment they were around him. Next to Drew, Lydia gave the best hugs; she was a very gentle —

“Ow, fuck—!”

She punched him! Jordan looked at Lydia through wide eyes and a flabbergasted expression, his body tensed defensively away from her as he said, “I don’t know, I’ve been chickening out for the past month I guess I started wondering if I’d actually ever do it—”

With Drew pregnant, thank fuck he actually did.

rosesandcharms:

When Lydia noticed it was Jordan, the stress in her shoulders eased and she put down her pen for the first time in what felt like hours. “No, no, come in, you’re allowed.” she said, a smile easing across her face. “I could use a good distraction.” she said. She thought Jordan was one of the newbies knocking on her door to ask her the same exact question again.

“Did you need something?” She asked, closing her folder and standing up. It felt good to stretch her legs after sitting for so long. She moved to the other side of her desk and nodded at the door so Jordan would close it.

Jordan hesitated for a moment, then made his way into Lydia’s office, g closing the door behind him. She looked like she needed more than a distraction — like maybe a hug and a strong cup of coffee — but he didn’t want to press the issue; Lydia would tell him in her own time. Plus, he was feeling more than a bit selfishly happy to present to her his news, despite not knowing how exactly to build up to such an announcement. With a deep breath, he decided to just come right out and say it, “I asked Drew to marry me.”

rosesandcharms:

Lydia had already drank about three cups of coffee that morning–she was running behind on stacks of paperwork, which wasn’t like her at all, and trying desperately to keep up. When she heard the tap of knuckles on the door to her office, she didn’t even look up from where she was writing. “Unless you have coffee go away.” She called out, unknowing of who was behind the door and frankly she didn’t care. It wasn’t until the door opened that she sighed and looked up from the stack of paper, “Yes?”

@lt-parrish

“I, uh...I can come back later..?” Jordan said, eyebrows furrowed in concern. It wasn’t like Lydia to seem so frustrated while in the work environment, nor was it like her to be sat at her desk with so many stacks of paper on top of it. He began slow easing his way backwards out of the room.

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

The night wasn’t going as Drew had expected it, no, it was going so much better. She couldn’t fight off the grin on her face, even as Jordan wiped away his tears. She dragged the back of her hand over her own eyes to clear away her own tears as well.

Her eyes dropped to his hand, and she bit her lip in excitement. The ring was absolutely stunning, better than anything she could have imagined. It fit perfectly also, and she couldn’t help but gasp quietly at the way it looked nestled on her finger. It just looked right.

She grinned at him, “Yes. Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you.” She exclaimed excitedly. She lunged forward, arms curling around his neck and with enough force to knock him backwards off his knees–sending both of them on the ground. She laughed brightly and pressed their lips together, though she was still smiling. “I love you, Jordan.” She said, kissing him once more before wiggling off him.

By this point, Titan had hopped off the couch at the commotion, and she rubbed behind his ears as she stood, her hand sliding across her stomach instinctively.

What was he doing?

Jordan had spent the better part of the past few months stressed and anxious because he was the embodiment of the only way Drew could die. Now, without planning to and without even knowing what he was, he had gotten her pregnant. She was carrying a child — his child — and for all they knew, that child could be one great big ball of fire that erupted, killing her, burning her from the inside out. Right now she looked so happy, wearing her ring and petting Titan and probably thinking about their future together and whatever happiness she thought they would share. No matter how badly Jordan wanted to remain blissfully happy, he couldn’t; he was naive, and he wasn’t being lulled into a false sense of security.

What he and Drew were doing was dangerous. Their child could be dangerous.And if their baby was like Drew?

Jordan would be dangerous to his own child.

“How far along are you?” Jordan asked as he too got to his feet, smiling as best he could as he wound an arm around Drew’s waist.

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

Drew held her breath as she watched Jordan open the gift, and only released it once she gauged his reaction. She immediately threaded her fingers through her hair and let out a laugh, a broken, happy laugh. Jordan wasn’t upset. At least, he wouldn’t be crying into her shoulder if he was upset. He was happy.

She curled her arms around him tightly, holding onto him before she remembered he had a beautiful ring in his hand and she wanted it. She pulled away, bringing her hands up to cup his face. She dragged him close so she could press their lips together in a deep kiss, unwilling to pull away until her lungs burned and she needed to inhale a breath of air.

“Still want to marry me?” She breathed out, partially teasing and partially wanting to confirm that he was on board with this whole thing. There were so many things running through Drew’s mind, questions about the future and feelings about the child slowly growing inside her that were unanswered and terrifying to think about. But she could let herself be happy right now. Tomorrow she could worry, tomorrow she could be terrified. But right now she wanted to be happy. She wanted to wear the ring and call Jordan her fiance.

“Yes.”

With every thing in him, yes, Jordan wanted to marry Drew.

The last time he’d gotten engaged — the first and only time — he had deeply and truly thought he was the happiest man in the world. He looked at Megan and whole-heartedly believed she was the only girl he’d ever want to spend the rest of his life with. But even before his parents’ deaths and Megan’s affair — after only a year of engagement — Jordan started realizing that Megan wasn’t the one. That’s why he related so much to Lydia when she left Jackson. Because he knew what it was like to love somebody, but not be in love with them.

He didn’t have to worry about any of that with Drew. A succubus — a creature that literally thrived off of sexual energy and encounters — was so in love with him that she had abstained from instinctually doing the one thing that ensured her survival. Was so in love with him that she knew he had the power — the only power in the world — to kill her, a power he had yet to gain complete control over, but she still eased into his touch instead of cringing fearfully away from it.

Jordan cleared his throat and rolled his eyes, “Shit, I —” He gave a breathy laugh, “—I’m sorry, I swore I was gonna be cool about it.” He sniffed again, then rubbed the back of his sleeve over his face, catching the stray tears that had started to stain his cheeks; then he gave another chuckle, “This wasn’t part of my plan, though.”

Still a bit shaky, Jordan unfurled his sweaty fist to reveal Drew’s ring, still set in his palm. He took her hand in his own, rubbed the pad of his thumb gently over her skin before sliding the ring delicately onto her finger. He marveled at how beautiful it looked on her, how happy he she had made him in one night both by agreeing to marry him and telling him they were going to have a baby. He realized he’d been so caught up in nerves, and then shock and excitement, that he hadn’t ever actually asked her to marry him.

“Calidoria Eirene Ambrosia,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers. “Will you marry me?”

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

Drew had felt Jordan slip behind her but she figured it was just to grab his gift to open it by the tree, his rule, but when she turned around the last thing she expected was him down on one knee holding a sparkling diamond ring.

The box dropped to the door beside her, along with the paper in her hand and she stood, staring with slightly parted lips at him. She would swear up and down that her heart stopped beating, her breath caught in her throat, her stomach flipped, every possible thing that could happen to her happened and time seemed to just stop.

She knew she was staring, knew she was quiet for too long, knew the silence must be deafening to Jordan but she couldn’t help it. Her hands dropped to cover her stomach, to anyone who didn’t know she was pregnant one might think it was out of nerves, but to her it was out of realization. How could she say yes? Her mind was screaming yes but she couldn’t open her mouth. How could she say yes when Jordan had no idea she was pregnant.

Without removing her eyes from Jordan she slowly, slowly crouched down to her knees in front of him. She had to be eye level with him when this happened. She blindly reached out for the box that was sat beside them and all but shoved it at Jordan without taking her eyes off of him. “Open the box.” She finally forced herself to say. “I can’t say yes until you open the box so open it.” she said, her eyes finally darting to ring and–it was so beautiful and perfect.

Drew didn’t realize her eyes were welling with tears, one falling down her cheek. She blinked away the blurriness the wetness caused, eyes locked on Jordan.

Silence in these situations was never a good sign. Beads of sweat began cropping up along Jordan’s hairline, and he felt like his face was going red with how hot it felt. If she was going to say yes — if she wanted to say yes, was happy to see the ring — she would have already said it. He was about two seconds from rising to his feet and sheepishly tucking the ring back into his pocket when he watched Drew drop to the ground in front of him and press her own gift into his hands. But he couldn’t help but notice that she still didn’t look exactly happy. He couldn’t discern whether or not the tears in her eyes were from fear or excitement — all he knew was that she refused his proposal, because he had to open her gift first. Boy, was that a new way to reject somebody. But because he wanted to remain positive, and his heart refused to give up on the idea of having Drew as his wife, Jordan palmed the ring and began unwrapping the gift he’d been given, his eyes only leaving Drew when he’d finally gotten it open.

“It’s—”

A pregnancy test.

A positive pregnancy test.

Through eyes that had gone almost immediately glassy, Jordan looked from the pregnancy test in the box, to Drew’s face. He sank down to both of his knees, and tried his hardest to blink back tears, because the last thing he expected was to be this happy. Unplanned pregnancy, planned engagement — he didn’t even get a yes from Drew, but somehow the fact that she was literally giving him the gift of a child for Christmas confirmed that she was going to be his wife. And she was going to be the mother of his child. And this time next year, they would be a family celebrating Christmas, not just a couple.

With an incredulous, but overjoyed laugh, Jordan dropped his head onto Drew’s shoulder and, despite every thing telling him to keep it together, he cried.

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

Drew let out a noise of protest when Jordan took the box away from her, making childish grabby hands at it. She huffed playfully when he pulled her up but let a grin spread across her face. “Oh, sure, right,” she said, rolling her eyes teasingly. “Now can I open it?” She asked, eyes widened pleadingly.

She didn’t wait for a response, though, and tore through the paper with a grin. She crumpled it up and tossed it to the floor–they would clean it later–and immediately assumed it was a piece of jewelry, like a watch or bracelet. “I still say you didn’t have to get me anything.” She said as she slipped the box open.

When she saw the strip of paper, she furrowed her eyebrows, “If you were going to do a prank gift you should have gotten creative, like anti-aging cream or something.” she remarked teasingly, grabbing the paper out and tucking the box under her arm.

She cleared her throat and read aloud, “Your fondest dream…will come true within a year…” she started off happily but as she read her voice trailed off. She recognized the fortune cookie paper and it took her a minute to figure out where it was from, but she soon remembered because she had immediately thought of having kids with Jordan. Wasn’t this ironic? “I don’t get the joke.” She said, glancing up from the paper and at Jordan.

The minute Drew began tearing into the gift, Jordan slipped around behind her. He let his eyes quickly scan over the loft: Titan was still laying on the couch, head down between his paws, but his eyes were open wide with a sense of curiosity that made Parrish wonder if perhaps the Husky could smell his nerves acting up; the fire was still popping and cracking in the fire place, sending little sparks up behind the grate; the moon was shining in through the massive loft windows, letting large white rays of light into the room, contrasting with all the warm amber glows of the Christmas lights sparkling along the tree. It was as close to perfect as it could get.

Now all he needed was for Drew to accept his gift. And then perfection would be reached.

Jordan looked up to make sure Drew’s full attention was still on the box in her hands. It was. With shaky fingers, he reached into the front pocket of his flannel shirt and withdrew a shining, white-gold ring, inlayed with thirty-six glittering diamonds. He’d picked it out especially for Drew, not only because it wasn’t overly flashy or extravagant — things Drew usually avoided — but because it was shaped like a Grecian laurel wreath. It was something he’d been adamant about Drew liking, but now that he was about to propose to her with it, he was wondering if maybe she would think it was too tacky — giving a Greek a laurel-crown ring.

All he could hope for now was that she wouldn’t call it a joke the way she did the fortune in the box. Swiftly, but quietly, he dropped to one knee, exhaled a deep and unsteady breath, and held the ring out in front of him, examining the way the diamonds caught in the light until he noticed movement, and focused his attention enough to realize Drew had turned around and was now looking directly at him.

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

When Jordan suggested them not exchange gifts, Drew’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “What? You’ve literally been counting down, Jordan, and now you don’t want to? No–now you’re giving me the choice?” she asked, a slight tease to her tone.

She sat the mug on the coffee table and tried not to show how nervous she was when she reached down and grabbed the box from underneath the tree. She sat back down in her spot, tucked her foot underneath her leg and twisted to face him. “It’s Christmas,” she said, a small, timid little smile curling on her lips as she waved the gift in front of him. “So, take your gift and give me mine.”

After she took the box she looked at him, lifting an eyebrow. “Who goes first?” she asked him, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. She hoped that he would tell her to go ahead and open her gift, because she really didn’t want to wait. If her gift spoiled Jordan’s mood–or his everything–she’d rather not awkwardly have the present left to open.

“I vote me.” She said, nudging him a bit. She didn’t want him to see how nervous she was, she didn’t want him to think anything was off with her. “Can I open it?” she asked, a childish grin spreading across her face. “Can I? CanICanICanICanI!” She repeated quickly, bouncing up and down like am excited little kid.

Okay. Jordan was confused. Drew’s behavior was all over the place, and he wasn’t quite sure why. One second she was acting like she wanted to be nowhere near him, and the next, she’s hanging all over him and his every word, the light in her eyes shining brighter than the ones both on the pine tree in the corner and the crackling hearth. He was sure his confusion showed in his face — he could practically feel the pull of his eyebrows downward, the crinkle of the space between them forming concerned wrinkles; even his mouth, though pulled in a smirk, was offering signs of wonder.

Though he could quickly get over that because of how cute she was.

And her playful nature sparked a new wave of confidence in him that he hadn’t had before. If he was going to do this, it had to be now, and he couldn’t go back. If she wanted to open her present first, he would let her. Because if he waited another second longer, he might just accidentally set fire to himself in sheer anxiety and panic. With a small chuckle, a roll of his eyes, and a shake of his head, Jordan shrugged and held out the elongated box to Drew.

“Alright, alright,” he teased, wagging it in front of her temptingly. “If you really want it that badly,” he let his tone drip with silly innuendo as a quirky little grin split his face. “Then I guess you can have it, but—”

Jordan pulled the present back away from Drew’s grasp and got to his feet. He used his free hand to take hers and pull her up with him, then led her over to the Christmas tree, so that the lights danced across both of their faces. He hoped that succubi couldn’t hear hearts, because his was beating like crazy, hammering inside of his rib cage and threatening to shatter all of the bones that contained it. With a shaky exhale, Jordan held the box back out to her and this time he allowed her to take it.

“—here. You gotta open presents by the tree, of course.”

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

As the seconds ticked away, Drew felt more and more anxious and scared. They had never spoken about kids. What made her think Jordan actually wanted a child? What if when he opened the gift he was filled with rage instead of happiness? Her eyes flickered for the briefest seconds towards his gift as he spoke to her. This was a stupid idea. So so stupid.

Even if Jordan didn’t want a baby, even if this ruined everything, Drew would still have it. She would travel across the country, maybe even leave, but she was having her baby.

“Oh,” she said in surprise when he held the cup out to her.

Shit.

She opened her mouth, and held it open for a few, long seconds before perking up. “Actually, I’m not in the mood for wine.” She said quickly, “I… want hot chocolate!” She said, jumping off the couch quickly and leaving Jordan sitting there holding her glass of wine. She rushed into the kitchen before he could say anything in protest.

“Want any?” She called out, yanking open the fridge and grabbing the milk out. She grabbed a mug with a picture of a puppy on the front and filled it with milk before popping it into the microwave to heat. “Nothing like packaged chocolate powder.” She said, grabbing down the box of hot chocolate. She flicked her eyes to the stove clock.

Apparently, being pregnant increased her sense of smell. Because the smell of heated milk made her gag quietly and she quickly jabbed her finger on the ‘cancel’ button and covered her nose, her back turned to the living room. “Cold chocolate works too.” she said with a sigh, pouring in the mix and stirring it quickly before putting nearly a third of their whipped cream on the top and made her way back into the living room.

Chalk Jordan up to being surprised. Drew? Not in the mood for wine? Like that was ever something he imagined her saying. He could understand Drew being in the festive spirit — okay, maybe not really — and wanting hot chocolate, but what he couldn’t understand was how she hastened to get away from him as if he were actually on fire. He sat there, smile still plastered to his face in a pathetically confused sort of way, holding her wine glass in his hand, wondering if perhaps he had done or said something wrong.

Then it occurred to him — what if she knew? If she knew he was going to propose — and if she planned on saying no — then that would certainly explain why she wouldn’t toast him. And why she kept repeating all throughout the night that she didn’t want his gift; how she kept putting it off for as long as she possibly could. It would explain why she hurried to the kitchen, leaving him there bewildered — it would explain why when he kissed her moments ago, she hadn’t even attempted to kiss back.

Jordan’s smile faltered altogether. He set both their glasses down on the coffee table, and pulled the long, small wrapped box from his pocket. Though on the outside, once unwrapped, it would appear to contain a necklace of sorts, there was only a strip of paper inside — an old crumpled fortune from a cookie Drew had eaten only a few months ago, which read “Your fondest dream will come true within a year”. Looking back on it, Parrish felt rather idiotic for assuming that Drew’s fondest dream would be to get married and make a life with him — and maybe it was arrogant of him to put the fortune in the box. But at the time he decided to, it had seemed like a perfect idea. Now that he sat there, staring at two full glasses sitting alone with a sleeping dog and Drew in the other room, he suddenly became aware that perhaps Drew didn’t want to marry him. Maybe she never would.

At that moment, his phone buzzed in his other pocket. With the box still in his hand, he reached his other one into his pocket and silenced the phone before calling back to Drew, “It’s midnight, but if you don’t want to do gifts...then, you know...we don’t have to...”

M E R R Y

cunningandbeautiful:

Her first indication should have been the morning sickness. Being immortal came with a lot of great pros, one being an unbeatable immune system. However, it took Drew getting sick on the way to work - and while at work -nearly four times before she figured something was wrong. And even being pregnant wasn’t her first guess. No, in fact, that was the very last thing she thought of.

She was in denial for about a week, until she finally broke and bought a pregnancy test. She sat in the bathroom for forty five minutes, staring at it on the counter, before she finally had the courage to actually look. When she saw the two little lines, her heart dropped to her stomach. The first feelings was fear being struck to her core, followed by an overwhelming happiness that she ignored. Could she honestly have a child? What would happen when he/she turned sixteen? What if it wasn’t even supernatural. There was a huge possibility that their child would be human, and then she would had to watch Jordan and their child die one day. It was emotionally overwhelming. She sat on the information for a few days before she decided how she was going to tell Jordan.

Now, with the little wrapped box sitting underneath their tree, Drew thought about six or seven times while Jordan was out of the room about tossing it in the fire. She was staring at it when Jordan filled the empty space next to her–there was no going back now.

She accepted the glass, and in one motion leaned forward to set it on the coffee table while saying “I’m sure you’ll be counting down until the last second.” She pressed the home button on her phone so the screen would light up and she could see the time–they still had some time left.

She tucked her feet underneath her and leaned into Jordan, “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.” she told him.

The last second couldn’t come quick enough, because Drew was right — Jordan was counting them down. Excitement and anxiety had him mentally keeping track of those seconds, letting them tick tick tick! away in his brain until they threatened to deafen him. If only Drew had just let him do this earlier, when he had mentally psyched himself up in front of the bathroom mirror for a good twenty or so minutes; now he was sure he was going to make a fool out of himself and who would say yes to a fool?

Oh god.

That was the first moment that Jordan considered she might say no. She was over there talking about how he didn’t have to get her a gift, and now suddenly Jordan was beginning to realize that she could decline what he bought her. That was a very real possibility. It happened all the time. He tried not to look over at her as he took a big swig of his eggnog; he also tried not to hop off the couch and pour another few shots of brandy into the drink. Instead, he reached down and picked up Drew’s wine glass — too preoccupied to even notice that she hadn’t taken at least a sip before she’d put it down — and extended it back to Drew once more, a nervous smile spreading on his face despite his attempts at appearing relaxed.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Drew’s lips. “Of course I didn’t have to get you anything. I wanted to. I think I did pretty good, too, but, well...guess that’s for you to decide, huh?”

With another little flicker of a smirk, Jordan raised his own glass slightly and locked eyes with Drew, waiting for her to take the glass of wine from his hands. It was weird, he began to notice, how someone who loved wine as much as Drew was now appearing to avoid it. But the nerves fought down Jordan’s thinking on the subject any further as he said, “A toast to Christmas?”

M E R R Y

The Los Angeles sky turned black long before evening fell, but inside Parrish’s loft was the soft illumination of Christmas lights — wrapped around the tree, strung along the staircase to the upper area, even draped around the bar in the kitchen. A flame crackled merrily in behind the grated fireplace, throwing warmth into the space. Not that it particularly needed it. Los Angeles wasn’t really known for its cold winters.

On nights like this and days like tomorrow, Jordan found that he actually missed the New York snow; watching it fall in flurries and settle, tightly packed, to the ground was always something he loved to see around Christmas time. But that was a different time in his life. He was younger, more naive, and didn’t really know what it meant to be happy — though he was content, if that stood for anything. Jordan didn’t really think it did. He much preferred his life now, where he was pouring himself a large glass of eggnog in the loft he shared with a woman he knew he loved more than anything else in the world — more than the snow he missed, and the chilly winters he grew fond of. He would take Calidoria Eirene Ambrosia any day or night. He figured that one out a while ago.

Jordan cleared his throat as he slid the bottle of egg nog back into the fridge. Christmas Eve wasn’t quite the holiday he thought it would be. There had been no grand feast — though Jordan had tried to recreate some items from a lengthy list Peter had sent of his favorite holiday recipes. And there had been no grand get-together with family — with Stiles still undercover, Derek hardly wanted to celebrate; and with Lydia and Peter split, there was really no chance of gathering them all into one room; and Jordan’s real family, well...they were somewhere, he figured, but he wasn’t quite sure where. Except for Drew, who was in the next room over, probably sitting on the couch with Titan. That was all he needed, really.

With a glass of wine for Drew in one hand and his spiked eggnog in the other, Jordan slipped into the other room. With every step he took, Drew’s present in his pocket brushed against his thigh. He had tried to give it to her earlier, but Drew insisted they exchange gifts at Christmas, and she didn’t seem to be backing down. Jordan, however, was feeling rather confident — and surprisingly, he hadn’t had enough brandy in his nog to blame the spur of confidence on — and as he slid into place beside Drew (the space unoccupied by their large, sleeping husky), offering her the glass of wine, he said, “I hope you realize that at midnight — and I mean right at midnight — I’m giving you your gift.”

@cunningandbeautiful