Welcome to a disaster. @maybeamagpie - Tumblr Blog

Jan 2, 2025

A Bottle of Sherry

Read on AO3

Loveday’s worried expression barely hiding the unbridled glee was possibly the most amusing thing that could’ve started of Maria’s winter holidays. It was, of course, accompanied by “are you sure you’re going to be alright?” (asked in the slight trepidation of a woman who’s about to go on her second honeymoon). It took a great amount of Maria’s willpower to not grin and laugh. She thought it a bit uncouth in the face of her aunt and uncle’s two children.

Especially when George, all six and mighty, took it upon himself to answer.

“She’s fine! You’re fine, right, Maria?” he asked from his spot of clinging to her leg. Maria ruffled his hair, before quickly catching Eliza, who had meanwhile taken a liking to hanging upside down by her feet.

“Of course!” she grinned, “I get to spend my holidays with my amazing cousins and my wonderful aunt and uncle get to send pretty pictures from their wonderful vacation by the sea.”

“Vacation!” said Eliza.

“Yes, vacation, Elsie,” Maria grinned. The child began playing with her hair. “And if there are any issues, I have back-up on speed dial.”

Benjamin looked over from the luggages he had been trying to manage for some ten minutes now.

“It’s not that Adam fellow, right? I didn’t hide our best cutlery and-”

“No, no,” Maria assured him, “he’s been old news since the beginning of December.”

“And he was boring,” added George.

“Georgie!” Loveday scolded him.

“What? That’s what Maria told you!”

“It’s impolite to listen in on people’s conversations, George,” said Benjamin, let the bags fall and walked over to Maria. He kissed Eliza on both cheeks, unlatched George from Maria’s leg and lifted him in a tight hug in the air.

“You will both behave and listen to Maria,” he then told them. His children half-heartedly agreed. He hugged Maria as well.

“So, it’s not Adam,” he said.

“No, uncle, not Adam.”

“Who then?” questioned Loveday. She pecked Eliza on both cheeks. Maria shrugged. She waited while Loveday said goodbye to her son.

“Robin, of course. Now go, you’ll miss your plane.”

“Robin?!” Uncle Ben didn’t have time to be scandalised, however, as Loveday pushed him out with a knowing smile.

“Enjoy the Bahamas!”

And with that Maria was left alone with two children and an empty country house.

“Hot chocolate time!” exclaimed George and his sister gladly echoed.

It was more than welcome that Robin timed his arrival on the evening of Boxing day. That meant that Maria only had to manage two very lively children for a whole of ten hours. Still, it was quite the relief, when the bell rang.

“I’ll get it!” George was already out of his chair when Maria got up.

“George! Your hands!” And face, she added mentally. Perhaps lasagna wasn’t the best idea for dinner.

Once she wiped tomatoes off of Eliza’s face and hands, they happily ran to greet Robin at the door. They found him accosted by George and Maria had to laugh at the unwise choice of clothing.

“That shirt is quite the fashion statement,” she teased him.

“Wow,” he smirked, “here I am, sacrificing my own holidays for- ugh-” Eliza began vigorously climbing him and he struggled to keep his composure. He blew a few stray curls from his face. “-for your wellbeing - hello, Elsie-”

“Moustache,” she said.

“Yes, Elsie, I shaved. That being said, Maria, I was hoping you’d show me some gratitude. Or, you know, a greeting.”

“Hi, Robin. Hope you had a very nice Christmas.” She took Eliza from him.

“Oh, very nice, princess. You should see what gift Anne gave me.”

Maria smirked. “I think I should, according to what Henry told me-”

“Henry told you?” Robin grimaced, “that bastard swore he wouldn’t say a peep!”

“Don’t say bastard, uncle. Mum says it’s a bad word,” huffed George.

“George, how about you let Robin inside and go finish your dinner, hm?”

“We have lasagna!” informed the boy helpfully. Robin, who had a tomato imprint of his nephew’s face on his shirt, smiled.

“Really? I’d kill for some lasagna now.”

At nine, the stage was set for a private moment for Robin and Maria. She planned to spend it with a nice book and had sat herself down in her uncle’s favourite armchair, with Wrolf sleeping by her feet, but those plans were swiftly interrupted, when Robin walked in with a large bottle of sherry.

“I was really worried it would clink against something when George decided to become a projectile.”

She raised her eyes from her book and smirked at him.

“Oh please. We’re not teenagers, Robin, we don’t have to hide alcohol.”

Robin seated himself on the sofa.

“But George would ask and I don’t like impertinent questions.”

Maria mindlessly turned a page.

“Like ‘why did Anne break up with you?’” she glanced at him to catch the hint of annoyance as he set out two glasses on the coffee table.

“I will not dignify that with a response. Sherry?” he offered her.

“Will you tell me about the Anne affair if I have some?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

And seeing that Robin was not going to let her have her quiet evening either way, she got up and sat down by him. He handed her a generously filled glass.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman.”

They clinked and he smirked challengingly.

“By heart, princess.”

She took a sip, flashing him a coy smile.

“Was it the nickname?”

Robin choked on his sherry. “What?”

“Did Anne not like being called princess?” she asked, now looking at him directly. And Robin, ever-so-bold, avoided her gaze. He cleared his throat.

“I didn’t call Anne princess.”

“Sure.”

“I didn’t! I didn’t call any of my exes princess.”

“Not even Johnny?”

“Oh especially not Johnny. He tried too hard.”

“Hm…” she took another sip of her sherry, “but why did you and Anne broke up? You seemed like quite the match.”

Robin stared at her for a moment and she shrugged.

“Henry just told me you two were no longer an item,” she explained quickly.

He downed his glass, poured himself another and topped off Maria’s. She didn’t protest.

“First off,” he started, his voice decisive, “we didn’t break up because we were never really together. Undefined relationship and all.”

Maria rolled her eyes.

“And second, it was precisely because of defining that relationship we ended it.”

And at Maria’s inquisitive stare, he sighed.

“She wanted an open relationship, I’m more of an exclusive guy. We’re still friends,” he assured her.

“Oh good! Anne is such a joy to be around.”

“Oh I know.”

They both snickered like teenagers.

“But I do hope you and Adam are a done thing.”

“Hey! He wasn’t that bad.”

“Wasn’t that- Princess, he liked numbers.”

Maria stared at him, eyebrows raised as she awaited his next words.

“Not like that! You know, you like maths and that’s different! You enjoy… defining the world in a different, frankly unique, language. He like numbers in the ‘yield’ and ‘loss’ sense. He couldn’t say ‘hello’ without sounding like he was here to offer you some shady tax-evasion-y deal!”

“Good save,” she noted, finished her glass and leaned back into the sofa, searching the ceiling for a clever response. None came.

“I knew it wouldn’t work out. He was too…” she sighed.

“Boring? Uninteresting? Bad in bed? Dull?” Robin supplied helpfully as he refilled her glass.

“Shush,” she gently poked him in the shoulder, “and shouldn’t you pull the breaks on the sherry?”

“What? It’s a litre and I know how you can hold your liquor.”

“Yes, but we have two children in the house who got some very loud gifts for Christmas and they are more than happy to use them at five in the morning.”

He just smiled. “We’ll be fine, princess.”

Maria narrowed her eyes.

“I bought it with my own money! If I suffer, it will only be the consequences of my own unwise actions.”

“Well I didn’t buy it.”

“But you did decide to drink with me.”

They shared a long look.

“That’s a touché, princess, admit it,” he said.

“Seeing as you wouldn’t leave me to read in peace if I didn’t come here, it is not a touché, it’s a deal made under duress.”

Robin chuckled. “Fucking lawyers.”

Maria laughed and realised it’s been some time since she felt so relaxed. With the whole chaos of the upcoming holidays right after Adam…

“Oh I have a gift for you,” she realised. Putting down the glass (rookie mistake, Robin refilled it) she dusted off her thighs and quickly picked up the large present from behind the armchair. She petted Wrolf on her way back. He sighed but didn’t wake up.

Robin watched her all the way through and Maria had to force down the thoughts that scolded her for not changing into something more elegant than warm leggings and a hideous (but lovingly made) Christmas sweater.

“That’s… I should’ve expected that.”

She handed him the packet. He smiled at it.

“Please, don’t tell me that these numbers are…”

Maria lit up, “merry Christmas in ASCII code!”

Robin looked at her, grinning in disbelief.

“No way.”

“Yes way, now open it.”

Robin took a deep breath and carefully began peeling the tape. Upon his lap then spilled an assortment of gifts.

Robin stared at the strangest one for a few seconds. Then he lifted the plastic, over the head hawk mask.

“How did you even find this!”

Maria shrugged.

“And a mug with a motorcycle handle? And- oh my god, you didn’t.”

Maria barely held back her joyful grin, “I did.”

“Leonard Cohen CD.”

“Mhm.”

“Princess.”

“Look inside.”

Robin obediently opened it and then gaped at her.

“Maria!”

She giggled. “It’s signed!”

Not even looking at rest, he quickly put them beside the bottle of sherry and lunged to catch Maria in a hug.

“You’re brilliant! my gift for you isn't even half as good!” he asserted. Maria rolled her eyes.

“Oh please. I just… I was unpacking some of dad’s stuff, I saw the CD and thought of you.”

“So you’re just casually giving me a family heirloom.”

“Along with a plastic hawk mask - that took way more work, by the way.”

Robin looked at the two remaining gifts. “Oh, ornithology playing cards, that’s adorable. And… that’s silk. You gave me a silk scarf.”

“The one you always wear is a bit worse for wear, so I thought-”

Robin glared at her before breaking out into a bright smile. “We’re setting a price limit for next year. Twenty pounds tops, ‘cause you’re unstoppable with all that solicitor money.”

“I have to spend it somewhere, don’t I? And when there’s no boyfriend to spoil and just a few family members left… You know my friends also forbid me from giving them anything over twenty pounds.”

“I didn’t ask to be spoiled!”

“Think of it as me being your art… patron.”

“I am not a starving artist.”

“I won’t tell Wrolf off next meal and you will be.”

Still in awe, he stared at his presents.

“This is really amazing, Maria. Thank you.”

She just smiled, sipping her sherry. her mind was now comfortably slow.

“Oh man, now I feel really bad about my gift,” he complained.

“You have it here?”

He smirked. “‘Course! I think into the future, you know?”

“That’s what they say about goldfish too,” Maria noted. He glared at her without meaning it.

“Give me a minute, I’ll bring it to you.”

It was about five and Maria managed to prepare three small bowls of crisps, nuts and some sweets for them to snack on in the short break. Then she settled back down on the couch, cursing herself for not bringing any ice.

Robin brought in a large flat, rectangular present. She stared at him like a surprised bunny.

“Robin, you didn’t.”

He smirked, “open it.”

He placed it in her lap. With no care for the paper, she tore the gift open to find…

“Oh dear gods,” she breathed out, her fingers gently caressing the layers of paint, “that’s so beautiful.”

It was a portrait of her. She was smiling brightly, her eyes following the observer, sun streaming from behind her and turning the russet of her hair into gold. Every freckle in place, every eyelash painted with care… She looked up at Robin. His expression was soft and she thought this was probably the second time she had seen him like this. The first was when they danced together at Loveday and Ben’s wedding when she was fourteen and Robin fifteen.

“Is this from a photo?” she asked, her voice trembling. Robin shook his head. Her eyes widened and mouth fell open.

“Memory?”

“It’s not framed yet, but-”

“This is how you see me?”

Robin flushed red. “W-well…”

The sun had given her a golden crown. Behind her was some or other sea and she wore… she chuckled.

“I always knew you liked the red velvet dress the most.”

Robin shrugged. “I have good taste!”

“Robin, you’re too good to me. This is so beautiful!”

She found him watching her intently, shifted in her seat and gently set the portrait down in favour of her glass of sherry.

“Too good?” he questioned, “did you never get anything like this before?”

She chuckled, “believe it or not, no one has ever given me a portrait before. It’s beautiful, thank you.”

“Wasn’t… oh what was his name… didn’t you date a photographer?”

“Hey,” she cleared her throat, “how about we don’t talk about Micah.”

“But he took photos of you exclusively! Did he never-”

“Robin. I mean it. He saw me only through his camera and failed to without, now…” She made a cutting gesture with her hands. Robin shook his head, incredulous.

“To be fair, Lily also never showed me her sketches of me, but still-”

“Lily was insufferable.”

Robin grinned into his glass. “What? Didn’t enjoy her thorough seminars on history of inks?”

“I wouldn’t have minded those if she didn’t talk to me like I have never seen a painting in my life.”

“Elijah was no better.”

“Elijah and I just went out a few times. That’s not an ex, that was a mistake.”

“Oooh, you’re harsh. And here I thought you liked his talkative personality.”

Maria drank her glass in one go and poured herself another.

“To talk without wit is to think of yourself as a clever comedian in a club of deaf-blind people. Elijah could barely make his own professors interested in his essays and they got paid to read them!” she frustratedly finished another glass. Robin watched her, clearly more than amused.

“I love when you get fired up like this. I hope that one day you’ll defend me in court.”

“I would hope not. You’d probably be there for hijacking a car and I know jackshit about cars.”

“Hijacking a car?” Robin asked, almost offended.

“Yeah! You’d be some highway robber in the nineteenth century, I swear.”

“You know what you would be?”

“Tell me.”

“You’d be the rich lady I was robbing.”

“So you admit it then.”

“I admit nothing.”

“No, no! You admitted you’d be one of those bodice ripper robbers who takes the lady from her old husband-to-be-”

“-fiancé-”

“Shush! I’m being dramatic.”

“Wait, why would I be a bodice ripper hero?”

“Look at yourself! You’re ripped and drive a motorbike. And sometimes you’re even clever.”

She wanted to pour herself another glass, but Robin stopped her.

“I think you’ve had enough. You’re saying nonsense.”

“You know motorbikes are hot. Both Jen and Carter are a proof of that.”

“And Carter’s southern American drawl.”

Maria chuckled. “I almost slept with him,” she admitted.

“What.”

“Almost! And it was after you two broke up. Neither of us just wanted to be a rebound.”

“Oh, Mark, was it?”

“Ugh, Mark.” Enough said.

“I think Charlotte was worse than him.”

“No, because Charlotte at least had an impeccable taste in clothes.”

“And men. Three guys at once is quite the achievement.”

“Did I tell you about Gregory?”

“Yes, many times. But what could you expect from a guy named Gregory?”

“True.”

Robin poured himself his last glass. The bottle was empty. Maria leaned back, circling the rest of her sherry slowly and deliberately.

“Are we doing something wrong?” she asked quietly. Robin raised an eyebrow.

“With shit-talking our exes? Maybe.”

“No, not that,” Maria’s thoughts felt a bit blurry. She could feel the thoughts she shouldn’t have about Robin surfacing.

“I mean we both had so many relationships and we’re not even thirty yet. What if we’re just doing something wrong?”

“My sister and Ben had a wedding at thirty-four and you’re barely twenty-six. We’re still learning.”

“But they’ve been pining over each other for years and that point!”

She huffed. “What if it’s our standards. We have them set too high and refuse to settle for a real person with flaws.”

Robin shook his head. “My standards are very realistic.”

“Yeah?” Maria challenged, “tell me.”

“My ideal partner has to be easy to talk to but also able to advise me well. If not funny then at least clever and willing to eat my food.”

“See? Impossible. Even David, who eats almost anything he finds, struggles with some of your creations.”

“You never do,” Robin pointed out.

“Or I don’t have the heart to tell you.”

Robin chuckled. “I recall you telling me a few times that it was really tasty.”

“You make delicious breakfasts,” Maria conceded, “and your fried rice never misses. -but your baking just barely passes the ‘edible’ test.”

“You’re not much of a cook either.”

“You’ve never complained.”

“Sure, because those five meals you do on repeat, you do very well.”

“I bake better than you though.”

“Well that’s not really a difficult bar to clear. Remember my attempt at apple pie?”

“It was just crunchy!”

“I believe at the time you called my oven a ‘charcoal producer.’”

“But I ate it, didn’t I?”

Robin finished his glass. He took Maria’s too and set them both on the coffee table between the gifts.

“I think my expectations were interrogated sufficiently, what about you? Pray tell, what’s your unreachable standard?”

Maria thought for a minute.

“I want someone who likes light-hearted fun. I spend my day all uptight, so to come home and have someone be just a sliver of light…” she pursed her lips. “I’d also like them to be kind and willing to listen to me. I want a partner not a wall to talk to or a pet.”

Then one of those thoughts that did not belong to the surface got into her mouth.

“And good taste. If my partner can’t advise me correctly on what shoes go better with my dress, I might as well just ask on my Instagram.”

“Now you’ve disqualified half the population. You look good in anything!”

“I’m sure you would have no trouble. You saved me from so many bad choices.”

“You’ve gotten better.”

She smiled at him, “I’d hope so.”

They quietly watched Wrolf sleep. Maria then softly giggled. It stopped as it began, but a moment later it was longer and louder, until she was giggling to herself tipsily. Robin studied her profile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. Maria collected herself.

“I mean, it… it sounded like we just listed off each other’s qualities.”

Suddenly the warm light atmosphere turned into cold awkwardness. Maria’s blood froze in her veins. She looked at Robin.

“I- I mean- it’s not like- you-”

Robin was quiet, just staring at her intently.

“Like, yes, if I had to choose out of my closest, obviously I’d choose you, but-”

“Obviously?”

Maria blinked a couple times. “You mean you wouldn’t choose me?”

“I didn’t say that. I just thought that you and Henry-”

“Henry? Why? We’re friends and all but thinking about, like, kissing him makes me feel icky.”

“And imagining kissing me is fine?”

Maria froze. She closed her eyes. “That was supposed to be an inside thought,” she mumbled.

Robin moved closer to her.

“Inside thought- princess, did you ever think about kissing me?”

She glared at him.

“Did you?”

Robin laughed. “Who didn’t? You know how painful it was to paint your lips?”

There was a single beat of silence.

“What?” Maria whispered. Robin rethought his entire existence.

“Oh screw it,” he grabbed Maria by her shoulders. Their eyes met and for a moment Maria really thought they were going to kiss, but they stopped just short.

“Maria, the first time I ever saw you, I finally understood what Loveday meant by her cryptic: ‘you’ll know when you meet them.’ It was like my world, which until then wasn’t missing anything, finally found the final piece to be completed. I started drawing because of you. I- I saw you, in your perfectly pressed clothing, with your perfectly picturesque curls and those eyes that could cause Troy to fall and I had to let everyone know that someone like that existed. And then we continued to grow and change and I realised that no, it was never how symmetrical your shirt is or how shiny your shoes are, I couldn’t get the sound of your laughter from my head. I began writing numbers just like you, because I stared for hours and hours at your hands! I felt like you were driving me crazy!”

He paused to take a breath. Maria tried to speak, but he stopped her.

“No, that’s not all. I dated, because you had to be some sort of childish foolishness. I really thought with a couple people that maybe you were finally back in the ‘dearest friend’ category, but then you’d break up with your boyfriend or get me a more thoughtful present for my birthday and suddenly it would all come back. I really, really tried to think of you only as a muse and a friend. Even when during my final exam one of the professors asked why I didn’t name the composition love, I tried to remain foolish. But-” he huffed out, frustration drawing his eyebrows into a frown, “you are the best thing that happened to me and the worst punishment the universe could ever prepare.”

He was out of breath, like he had been running up and down the stairs, and his cheeks were flushed, though whether it was embarrassment, anger or adoration was hard to tell. She felt her own face burning.

“How… how can I match that?” she breathed out, laughing shakily. Robin giggled too, breathless. His eyes were shining and Maria thought that he was absolutely beautiful. Not caring for the consequences, she gently slid her palm under his jaw and kissed him.

Robin smelled of sherry, sweets, turpentine and leather. Maria knew what shampoo he used from the many times she’d stayed the night at his place, but no amount of it or of cologne could ever cover the hours he spent in his studio and on the motorbike in full gear. His hands were on her waist without her being sure how they got there, her fingers were combing through his hair. Her chest felt close to exploding, like she had swallowed fire and its restless flames were now reaching every inch of her body. Her mind, though slow and a bit unruly, finally celebrated. All those things about Robin she had accrued over the years were turned into fireworks, because no matter how much she thought about what it would be like to kiss Robin, it was impossible to beat the real thing. Kissing Robin was like quenching thirst with a glass of fresh water. Kissing Robin was like understanding why philosophers spurned love whereas poets upheld it. She wasn’t thinking of one thing - never - there was Robin’s hair, his clothes, his hands, his neck and his eyelashes, which tickled her face. There were his lips and his tongue and she could say those were three things. The three-body problem as it was initially meant.

They separated after a moment to take a breath.

“I love being proven wrong,” Robin whispered. Maria raised an eyebrow in question.

“I thought- I thought that I love just the idea I had of you in my mind. But that idea has some work to do if she even wants to hold a candle to you.”

He caressed her cheek.

“I also can’t believe I didn’t kiss you first. With all that talk I should’ve done it.”

This time she laughed with her belly.

“Oh come on, you had this beautiful monologue about love driving you crazy and you’d take this from me? You should’ve warned me! I would’ve prepared myself with some Jane Austen.”

“I know Austen better than you,” Robin pointed out.

“And perhaps if I loved you less I would have been able to talk about it more,” she grinned and pecked him on the lips. He burrowed his face in her neck.

“You have bewitched me, body and soul…” he murmured. Maria giggled.

“Maybe, but this body is damn tired because she drank half a bottle of sherry, not to mention it’s definitely past midnight and with some luck George and Eliza will sleep until six, so I think it would be best if we’d go lie down-”

She attempted to get up. Robin tugged her back down.

“One lamp won’t do big damage and the sofa has plenty of space.”

Maria considered it. The positives were plenty: Robin was constantly warm, the sofa was very well upholstered and her room was behind a very cold corridor and stairs. And negatives… she decided those didn’t matter and just didn’t count them.

“My, my, Mr de Noir, going right to the sleeping together,” she teased, gently fixing his hair which she had previously so thoughtlessly ruined. Robin grinned at her, still keeping his hands around her waist.

“Being straight-forward has worked great for me so far, why fix it if it ain’t broke?”

“Fair point,” Maria nodded, “but you are my pillow tonight.”

“Oh gladly, princess.”

Maria woke up into light, alone, but covered with a hand-made blanket with a glass of water and aspirin by her side. Hearing some noise from the kitchen, she tiptoed into her bathroom and fixed herself up a bit before going in.

She then stayed put, leaning against the doorframe as she watched George, covered in flour, advise Robin, equally as white, how to make the pancakes correctly as Eliza, with all her might, decorated them with whipped cream, syrup and fresh fruit.

Robin noticed her after a moment and as he finished the last of the pancakes, he walked over to her and kissed her.

“Morning,” he murmured, “did you sleep well?”

“Except for my promised pillow leaving me in the early hours of the morning?”

“I hope said pillow can make it up to you with a nice breakfast.”

She kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll see. Maybe the pillow can do more after he gets rid of his morning breath.”

Robin rolled his eyes, but pulled her chair out for her and then valiantly fought against George’s barrage of questions.

This week of vacation was going to be just plain incredible.

#secret of moonacre #maria merryweather #robin de noir

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

Welcome to a disaster.