Aura

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[josiesopenheart]

The Way I Loved You︱Open Heart AU Series ︱ Book 2 Rewrite

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC Josie Kingsley x M!OC Jackson Montgomery

Summary: Ethan returns from the Amazon to find Josie has moved on with another. But as the cracks begin to show, some hearts refuse to hide.

Prologue | Ethan can’t stop thinking about Josie. She tempts him with reckless indulgence and she waits… for the last time.

Exile | Ethan returns from the Amazon prepared to put distance between him and Josie but finds she’s already done it, in the worst possible way.

Fine Line | Josie’s first day on the team should have been easy with Dr. Ramsey, her mentor, her superior. But every glance is Ethan.

Back To December | Ethan can’t escape thoughts of Josie. Leaving her had felt necessary but now seeing her with someone else threatens to shatter him all over again.

Dinner & Diatribes | A night meant for appearances leaves everything exposed. Josie clings to what feels safe, while Ethan carries the weight of what he wants, what he’s done, and what he’s already sacrificed.

Wrong Direction | Josie chooses the safety of Jackson’s arms, while Ethan drives into the night carrying the quiet certainty that wanting her is a loss he’s already accepted.

Motion Sickness | Josie rides along with Ethan on a case. While searching a patient’s home every moment, every slip, every glance feels heavier and charged with what they can’t say and can’t have.

Through The Dark | A patient’s sudden blindness unravels Josie and Ethan’s restraint and ignites the truths they’ve been holding back.

Hard Feelings | Josie goes behind Ethan’s back and forces the hospital to pivot, proving him wrong. What starts as a professional clash turns personal fast, blurring authority, control, and everything they refuse to name.

Dangerous Woman | Josie tests Ethan at every turn during a high stakes case. Under watchful observation, he struggles to maintain composure as authority and control begin to slip.

The Exit | While treating a patient who refuses urgency, Ethan and Josie are forced into stillness where personal history, buried tension, and unspoken truths surface.

End Game | At the Edenbrook vs Mass Kenmore softball game, the real game is played off the field. As Josie makes her move, Ethan falters, and Jackson starts to notice all isn’t what it seems.

WIP

Full Masterlist

[jerzwriter]

Back to @creativepromptsforwriting's 30-Day Challenge - Day 18 took me a little longer than anticipated. The prompt was "Use the title of the last song you listened to. "My last song was Ed Sheeran's Old Phone, which gave me the opportunity to get my angst on again - and I have to admit - I enjoyed it!

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Featuring: Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: ~3,000 (sorry!)

Summary: While rummaging through a junk drawer, Ethan stumbles upon an old phone. He decides to charge it and take a trip down memory lane - but are some memories best left in the past?

Also participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge's May Mayhem - prompts: Regret and Confession

30-Day Challenge Masterlist | Full Masterlist

It was already dark when Ethan closed his office door, that time of day when even Edenbrook's hectic halls settled into a quiet hum. It had been a long day, and as he stepped into the elevator with his coat slung over his arm, he was relieved to leave it behind him. But just as the doors began to slide shut, a familiar voice shattered the peace.

“Ethan!”

A hand slid between the doors, forcing them open, and Dr. Tobias Carrick stepped in. Ethan sighed, not with disdain, but unmistakable annoyance. If Tobias noticed, he didn't care, as he leaned against the elevator wall with his usual swagger and a curious grin on his lips.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to catch you all day. I wanted to see how the date went last night.”

Ethan pressed the button for the ground floor, eager to end this conversation as quickly as he could. “It was fine,” he muttered, hoping that would suffice, even though he knew better.

“Fine?” Tobias replied with a raised brow. “That’s it?”

“Yes, it was - fine.”

Tobias shook his head. “Trina is beautiful. She’s smart, charming, she loves opera for Christ's sake. I would have gone for it myself,” he smirked, as if that result would have been a foregone conclusion, “but I hooked you up instead, because you're a perfect match, and the best you can do is... fine?”

“She’s lovely,” Ethan admitted, slipping on his coat. “But no.”

“No?” Tobias repeated. “You're really using your words today, big guy. Why, no?”

A moment of silence passed as Ethan thought of a dozen excuses he could offer, but Tobias had been his friend long enough to know when he was lying, so he decided to go with the truth.

“Because I’m still in love with someone else.”

The low humming sound of the elevator suddenly felt much louder, and Tobias placed a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder.

“Buddy, you know that she’s gone, right?”

A lump formed in Ethan’s throat. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice tense. “I know.”

A bell rang before the doors slid open, and the old saying ‘saved by the bell’ took on a new meaning for Ethan. “Good night, Tobias,” he said as he rushed out, leaving his sullen friend behind.

~~~~~

Several hours later, Ethan was alone in his Back Bay condo, a single log crackling in the fireplace his sole companion. He tried to unwind with a glass of Macallan in his hand and a melodic jazz ensemble playing in the background. But the night moved on at a snail's pace, just like all the years that came before it. He reached for the bottle again, a curse falling from his lips when he found it empty.

Grumbling under his breath, he made his way to the kitchen and opened a cabinet where he kept a few unopened bottles - an emergency supply for moments like this. He pulled a Glendronach he’d been saving and rifled through a nearby drawer looking for the foil cutter when his hand brushed something he couldn't place.

Curiously, he pulled the object out, then stood in silence: his old iPhone, scuffed around the edges. He hadn’t seen it in nearly a decade. He almost forgot that it existed, but apparently, he never let it go, just like so many things from his past.

He didn't know if he should do it— he knew some things were best left in the past—but compelled by something he couldn’t name, he found himself plugging in the phone and waiting patiently as the screen slowly came to life. Then, a standard-issue screensaver transported him back to another place and time.

He entered a passcode—fortunately, it was the same one he used today—and then decided to take the plunge, swiping up as old messages filled the screen like little ghosts visiting from his past.

The first one was from Naveen.

“Ethan, you’re the only one who understands how much this frightens me. Thank you for being there.”

His chest tightened, and tears prickled at his eyes despite his best efforts to stop them. But seeing their last conversations again proved to be more painful than he could have imagined. There were updates on his treatment plan, friendly advice, terrible jokes, and gratitude—so much unending, mutual gratitude. Then there was the selfie Naveen sent from his hospital bed, he was doing his best to make a silly face through the pain. His final message was just below it—a message Ethan had left unread until now.

“I’m proud of you, Ethan. I didn't say it often enough, but you brought joy to my life every day. Promise me you’ll keep moving forward. Be happy, son, because time passes faster than you think. Thank you for making my life a brighter place.”

Ethan shuddered, his eyes clenching shut, as the hollow space left in his heart after Naveen passed grew larger. There were days when Ethan truly wondered if there would be anything left but chambers left vacant by those in the past—spaces that no one else could ever fill.

He waited several moments before turning back. The following message was from his father, Alan.

Their messages were strained back then - kind, but lacking the warmth they share today. A smile spread on his face because he knew - he knew exactly who he had to thank for that. But these old messages were mostly about arguments over things that should have been long buried, with lengthy stretches of silence in between.

"So much wasted time..." he said aloud. He grabbed his current phone and sent a text at once:

“I miss you, Dad. Let’s make plans for the weekend.”

He knew Alan was already asleep, but that didn’t matter. It would be a pleasant surprise when he woke up. Then, it was back to his trip down memory lane - or self-imposed torture - it could have been either of the two.

He pulled up the next thread, and that's when his heart nearly stopped.

Kaycee.

So many years had passed since he last saw her, but time never changed how the mere sight of her name could stop his world from spinning on its axis. He scrolled up to the very first message she ever sent.

“Just testing the number. I promise I’ll only use it for emergencies. But I want you to know that I’m here if you need someone. I know tonight was hard.”

The memories flooded his mind. She sent that text the night his friend, Dolores, died at the hospital while under their care. Kaycee never left his side. He had never given his number to an intern before that, and, even then, he questioned his judgment, but Kaycee was right; it had been a hard night, and something inside him had shifted.

Only use this if you absolutely have to. He told her, but she sent that first message just a few hours later, because she knew he needed someone, even if he didn’t know it himself. Her heart was always much bigger than his rules.

He could have stopped there, but he couldn’t keep himself from reading more – all of their texts reading like a storybook of their time together. Messages from when they were clandestinely treating Naveen. His vitals, lab results, stupid jokes she sent as an attempt to cheer him up, and the embarrassing stories Naveen was all too eager to share.

“Naveen told me you fainted when you administered your first injection in med school. That can’t be true, can it?” “Remind me to talk to Naveen. He’ll need to sign an NDA if he expects me to continue treating him.” “Ha! I’d still get it out of him!”

And she’s right. She would have.

He pulled up the phone’s camera roll, knowing precisely what picture he longed to see – and there it was. Kaycee at the medical conference they attended in Miami - it seemed like a lifetime ago. He smiled as his fingers traced the image on the screen - that navy blue gown had nearly knocked him off his feet, and seeing it again brought him back.

Back to that balcony where the sound of crashing waves was so loud, you'd swear they were only a few feet away. He could taste the warm, salty air and see her emerald green eyes gazing at him with more love and adoration than he rightfully deserved.

He didn't want it to happen - but it was inevitable - and it took just one kiss for the rest of the world to fade away. It felt like every mismatched puzzle piece that made up his life was finally coming together –  a cosmic event when the planets finally aligned according to a master plan – but, as quickly as it surrendered, he pulled away.

He sent her a text message the next day as he sat in the hotel room, and she traipsed around Miami, going anywhere and everywhere to escape him.

“I’m so sorry, Kaycee. You’re beautiful...brilliant. You deserve the whole world. But I was wrong last night, and I won’t let that happen again.”

“Got it."

Was all she replied - then the silence stretched for weeks.

He tried to avoid her, but somehow, it never worked. There was the text he sent her the morning after he took her to the opera in a desperate attempt to lift her spirits. The night that ended with another searing kiss in his private box – a box he never stepped into without thinking of her again – even to this day.  

“Kaycee, we can’t keep doing this.”

“I know. But I don’t want to stop, Ethan, and I know you don't either. You mean so much to me... we have to find a way.”

There were dozens more texts –each more raw and honest than the next – well, at least the ones from Kaycee were. Then there was one from June that would change the trajectory of his life. Destroying him with just eight words:

“It’s confirmed. Kaycee’s in there. She was exposed.”

That night would haunt him forever. No matter how hard he tried, he could never erase the memory of kneeling awkwardly beside her, the hazmat suit crinkling with every move. He whispered the words he should have said long before, but sometimes the worst possible thing has to happen to render one's vision clear.

He told her he loved her and begged her to fight. For him-for them-she needed to stay and never leave his side again... and she listened. She survived, Ethan administering the life-saving injection the next morning, and their world changed for the better.

After, their messages were filled with all the love and passion expected from a secret love affair—a love that was beautiful, messy, and divine. It ushered in a light unlike any he had ever known.

“Have I told you how much I adore waking up in your arms?” She wrote.

“About as much as I adore having you there.”

“Promise me this will never end, " she begged. "Please, promise me this is only our beginning.”

He replied in an instant.

“Of course it is. Something this precious can never go away.”

It was real, and they were happy. So happy. They merely had to keep it quiet until her residency was over. A task that sounded far easier than it was, but they reminded each other it would be worth it... until something inside him began to change. i

“Just four more months! Then I can walk out of work with you, hand in hand, and plant the biggest kiss on your cheek!  I can’t wait to let the whole world know how much I love you, Ethan!”

He didn’t reply.

Why didn’t he reply?

After that, each message began to signal the end.

“Why did you cancel our dinner on Saturday?  We were supposed to talk. I really need you, Ethan. I have offers from Hopkins, UCSF, Cedars-Sinai…but they need answers soon. I want to talk to you before I decide.”

“You don’t need me to decide, Rookie. Follow your gut - it will tell you what the best move is. I’m so proud of you, Kaycee. I always knew you were going to change the world, and just look at you! You are.”

“I appreciate that, Ethan, but being proud of me isn't what I need right now."

“What do you need?”

“I need you to tell me to stay. Edenbrook gave me an offer, too. Tell me my future is here, in Boston, with YOU. I want a reason to stay.”

He shut his eyes, disgusted with himself.

Hours passed. Hours. He could just picture her, nervously biting her lip, her wavy, blonde hair tied into a messy bun above her furrowed brow as she checked her phone incessantly... waiting. How could he have let hours pass? Why would he do that to her?

Then – the worst decision he ever made – right there – saved to haunt him for all time and posterity.

“I can’t do that, Kaycee. Your future - your career needs to dictate your choice, not me. I care about you too much to stand in the way of that.”

He thought he was being noble. Putting her career and her needs before his own. At least that was the lie he repeated to himself like a mantra. But Kaycee cut through it, her reply instantaneous.

“You told me you loved me, Ethan. You said I was your world. Has that changed? Don’t you want me to stay? Please, tell me you haven't changed your mind."

He never answered.

Months passed before he received the last text she’d ever send. She was settling into her new place in LA – two thousand, five hundred miles away in an apartment he’d never see – beginning a life he’d never be part of. He was sitting in his office when it arrived – the very place they had shared so many conversations, spent late nights solving cases, and sometimes, doing much more. Now, he was by himself as he read:

“I wanted to let you know I arrived in LA and I’m settling into my new place. It’s really beautiful, but it’ll be a while before it feels like home – if it ever does at all. I’m going to do my best to move forward – it's not like I have a choice. I'll start fresh and embrace the next chapter, but it’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I wanted to thank you, Ethan, for everything you’ve ever done for me. You were my mentor, my sounding board, and so, so much more. You taught me to be brave and never back down from what I wanted most in life. I only wish you had been strong enough to take your own advice. I wish I could say we'll keep in touch, perhaps learn to be friends. But I can’t. Just seeing your name still breaks me inside, and the idea of hearing your voice with an entire country between us moves me to tears. You were the one for me, Ethan, I know that. And I truly believed I was the one for you. I'll never understand how we ended up here. I’m going to need space to heal, so please don’t reach out to me. Perhaps I’ll contact you one day, if I ever feel strong enough, but in case that day never comes, I need you to know that I loved you with all my heart, Ethan, and I always, always will. I wish you the best. Please remember me - Kaycee"

And he never heard from her again.

He sat in the dark for a long time, his hand shaking around the phone he clutched as if it were a lifeline. He thought about all the times he wanted to call her, and found every excuse not to.  

He remembered the pain of losing, the lonely nights when it became so unbearable that he tried to lose himself in others, but no one's touch would ever feel right, and his name only belonged on her lips.

He saw her name in medical journals on occasion, sometimes a photo from a conference where she gave a keynote speech, and he was amazed at how her smile could still melt his heart. He hoped – sometimes even prayed – that she had healed, because he already accepted that he never would.

Time marched on, and with each year that passed, breaking the silence seemed harder. He hadn’t even put her number in his new phone, but Kaycee MacClennan would never be a part of his past. She lived beside him every single day. A ghost who walked through the rooms of his mind, reminding him of what his life could have been if he hadn’t been such a coward.

He finally willed himself to stand. He extinguished the fire and headed to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. He stared at the space where she used to sleep - just like the space she had taken in his heart, it would never again be filled.

He tossed and turned for hours, then finally sat up and turned on the light. He grabbed his phone and entered her number – he didn’t need to look it up, it was committed to memory. And then, he wrote:

I  never wanted you to leave Boston. I just didn’t know how to say that without feeling like I was stealing your future. I wanted to follow you to LA, but back then, I didn’t believe I deserved you. I should have told you. I can't tell you how many messages I started over the years, but I deleted every single one. The truth is, you’re the only woman I've ever loved, Kaycee. You were the one for me: then, now, and forever. I'll never stop grieving the fact that I let you go.

You don't have to write back. I don’t expect a response. I just felt you were owed the truth, even if it’s coming years too late.

I hope you found happiness, because no one deserves it more than you. Just know, I never stopped loving you, and I never will. Ethan

He hit send quickly, before he lost his nerve. He slid the phone into the nightstand, shut off the light, and clutched the pillow that should’ve been hers. Then he cried—fully, freely - letting it all out. It was something he should’ve done years ago.

~~~~~

It was a little after midnight in Los Angeles. Kaycee’s nighttime routine hadn’t changed in all these years – shower, watch Jimmy Fallon, then off to bed.

The television was dark, and she had just slipped under the covers when her phone vibrated across the room. She let out a soft groan. She should check it—it could be important—but she was exhausted. If it's urgent, they'll reach out again, she reasoned as she shifted under the comforter and closed her eyes. Sleep was all that mattered now, and the message could wait until the morning.

[midnightmelodiz]

Oh my god ~ 😭 this was so beautifully sad 😭😭😭

Is there going to be a continuation of this? Please tell me there's a second part 😭😭

[liaromancewriter]

Stand By Me

Premise: Cassie experiences the downside of having Ethan Ramsey as a mentor.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Format: Prose + Text and Pic Fic Words: 2,610

A/N: Submission for @choicesaprilchallenge24 prompt, two-word sentence starter: "you're wrong"

Part 1: The Calm

Cassie Valentine had never traveled quite like this. The cargo plane’s interior was cavernous and dimly lit, a stark contrast to the tightly packed but bright commercial jet that had flown her and Ethan Ramsey from Boston to Miami for the first leg of their trek to assist humanitarian efforts after an earthquake in Haiti.

Cassie thought idly that the jet had been more comfortable with its plush seating. She sat cross-legged on the cold, metal floor, a duffle bag shoved behind her, cushioning her lower back from the unyielding steel, and scanned her surroundings.

The sparse interior was devoid of the usual comforts of commercial flights. There were no overhead bins, seatback trays or in-flight entertainment to pass the time. Just an expansive, unadorned metal hull echoing with the sound of the engines, a constant, deafening roar that made any attempt at conversation futile.

“Hope you’re strapped in tight, folks,” Hank, the team leader, shouted above the noise.

Standing in the center of the plane, his legs spread for balance, he stretched his long arms to grip one of the loops hanging from the ceiling.

“It’s going to be a bumpy ride, but at least there’s no middle seat to fight over,” Hank continued matter-of-factly as the plane gained speed on the runway, its sides rattling in response. A few people chuckled.

He finished his safety instructions a minute or two before the wheels lifted off the tarmac, and quickly strapped himself into a jump seat on the far side. He caught her watching him, and winked flirtatiously.

Back on the ground, Ethan had greeted Hank with an easy familiarity borne out of their shared experience during the Amazon mission years earlier. The casual insults had rolled off their tongues as they needled each other jokingly.

Cassie suspected this trip would be eye-opening in more ways than one as she spied on Ethan’s relaxed profile out of the corner of her eye. As if sensing her scrutiny, he glanced askance at her and she gave him a thumbs up signal.

She huddled inside the leather jacket, shivering from the chill that permeated the aircraft as it began its ascent. Leaning her head on Ethan’s shoulder, she smiled ruefully at Libby, the petite red-haired fifth-year surgical resident strapped in across from her.

They’d gotten to chatting in the hangar as they waited for the plane to be loaded with boxes filled with medical and food supplies and humanitarian aid packages. Libby, on her third trip to a disaster zone, had been a fount of information on what to expect and advice on how to manage in crude living conditions.

Cassie felt a sense of adventure mingled with apprehension. The headlines coming out of Port-au-Prince had painted a bleak picture of destruction, death and despair.

When Ethan’s contact in the WHO reached out asking for medical volunteers, Cassie knew she wasn’t going to be left behind this time. She might not have experience in field hospitals, but it was time she got it.

Ethan hadn’t argued or tried to talk her out of it. They were doctors; this is what they did.

As the plane reached cruising altitude, Cassie peered out of a small window near the floor. The view was obscured by a thick mesh covering the outside, but it did little to diminish the sense of wonder at the vast blue sea below, the calm surface broken only by the white crests of waves.

The flight was long, longer still, with nothing to do to pass the time. Cassie found herself drifting off to sleep, lulled by the monotony of the engine’s roar and the comforting feel of Ethan’s arm around her.

The next thing she knew, he was nudging her awake. The plane’s vibration beneath her had changed, gradually descending as they approached their destination. The atmosphere inside was abuzz with anticipation. Shortly after, the plane touched down on the tarmac, the landing rougher than the take-off.

“Ready?” Ethan asked as they unstrapped themselves once the plane had come to a halt.

Cassie nodded, stretching her arms and legs to shake off the stiffness. “Next time, remind me to grab a sleeping bag and some snacks.”

He chuckled, but his smile was soft as he stared into her green eyes. He ran his index finger down the side of her face, tucked back a lock of blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail, and tilted her face up.

The kiss was a mere brush of the lips, whisper soft, barely there before it was gone. It was the last moment of normality. Once they disembarked, everything would change.

Part 2: The Storm

The oppressive heat and humidity were unlike anything Cassie had experienced before, although she’d certainly been to the tropics. Her brother’s island home on St. Thomas was a few hundred miles east, but its luxurious, air-conditioned environs were worlds apart from the rows of beige-colored tents spread out in every direction.

The back of her short-sleeved cotton scrub top was damp from perspiration, so she lifted the hem to air it out. Exiting the stuffy interior of a medical tent housing non-urgent cases, Cassie took a deep breath. The pungent smells of human waste and unwashed bodies hit her nostrils immediately, and she started gagging.

Sweat dripped down her face, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. In the last few days, she’d lost her weight in fluids as they dug latrines, carried supplies from one end of the field hospital to another and spent hours in airless spaces treating patients whose eyes were inconsolable with loss.

It had taken her more than a minute to get her bearings, but Ethan had been in his element. She knew he’d volunteered with Partners in Health when he was a resident and fellow. But she’d had a hard time picturing the sophisticated, opera-loving Dr. Ramsey in such crude surroundings, digging ditches, boots covered in mud, grime staining his clothes.

They had both been busy in their respective areas, retreating every night, bone tired, muscles aching, to their assigned bedroom in staff housing near the hospital. All they did was sleep before waking up early to do it all over again.

Suddenly missing him and desperate to feel his arms around her, Cassie marched down the dirt path between tents, her green eyes searching for him or someone familiar who could tell her if they’d seen him.

Her ears pricked when she heard his deep voice and distinctive laugh close by. Changing directions, she followed her instincts and turned left, slowing down when she saw him standing in the middle of a clearing, his back to her.

Ethan was with an older man she hadn’t met before. His gray hair was long from the back, brushing past his collar, with deep-set eyes and a hooked nose. He spoke English with a heavy accent, gesticulating with his hands for emphasis.

The other man caught her spying on them, and his voice boomed, chiding. “Ah, another acolyte for my young friend. It’s always the same story, eh, Ramsey?”

Cassie flushed when she realized he was referring to her.

Surprised, Ethan spun on his heels and relaxed when he spotted her. “Cassie.”

Her earlier euphoria faded, replaced by a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach as she joined them.

“You know each other?” The other man asked, glancing between her and Ethan.

“Klaus, meet Dr. Valentine.” Ethan made the introductions. “Cassie, this is Dr. van Rijn, special missions head at the WHO. We go way back.”

“Valentine, Valentine. Why do I know that name?” Dr. van Rijn tapped one finger against his lips before his eyes cleared in recognition. “Ah, yes, of course.”

Cassie felt a momentary high at being recognized by someone of his stature, but his next words had her deflating like a balloon popped with a pin.

“You’re the intern!”

“That was six years ago,” Ethan shook his head in amusement. “She’s hardly an intern anymore, Klaus. Dr. Valentine is—”

“Your mentee, or rather, your protege,” he interrupted. “Yes, yes, Ethan, I remember. My hair is more gray than when we last saw each other, but my memory is sharper than ever.”

“But your hearing could use some work,” Ethan retorted, shoving his hands in his pant pockets. “As I was saying….”

Cassie saw herself standing in a long tunnel, the dismissive words spoken by the other man echoing around her. Intern. Mentee. Ramsey’s protege. Reduced to nothing more than that.

“Cassie, are you alright?”

Ethan’s concerned voice broke through her reverie, and she looked up, startled. They were both staring at her, one in disquiet and the other with curiosity.

“Sorry, I was miles away,” Cassie said. “What were you talking about?”

“Ethan was just telling me you’re now leading his former team,” van Rijn said. “That’s quite an accomplishment for one so young. You made a smart decision when you chose to train under Dr. Ramsey. He’s one of the best and most astute physicians I’ve ever met. You’ll go far if you keep following in your mentor’s footsteps.”

Incensed at the implication that her success was not of her own making, Cassie opened her mouth to deliver a cutting retort or at least defend her record. But Ethan stepped in front of her, figuratively, and beat her to it.

“That’s unfair, Klaus,” Ethan said sternly. “Dr. Valentine is brilliant. She diagnosed and found a cure for Naveen when he and I had both given up. She’s the keynote speaker at this year’s AADM conference, just like I was all those years ago, and is a special advisor to a Congressional national committee on healthcare affordability.”

He paused, frowning slightly before continuing. “And before you shove your foot even further down your mouth, you’ve apparently forgotten that she’s also my wife.”

Cassie stared in shock at Ethan, her ears ringing. His wife?!? That’s how he chose to end this? She thought they were partners and equals first, but clearly, she’d been mistaken.

“I heard you’d gotten married,” van Rijn said, flustered, “but I didn’t realize it was to…”

His words trailed off, and his cheeks turned red with embarrassment as he glanced at Cassie.

Ethan, too, watched her warily as she continued to stand there in stony silence, arms folded tightly across her front.

As she grappled with her emotions, feeling the old imposter syndrome return, Cassie knew she would blow her top if she didn’t walk away now. Preferably with her dignity intact.

“It was a pleasure,” she almost tripped over the word, “to meet you, Dr. van Rijn. I have to get back to work.”

She nodded rigidly at Ethan. “I’ll see you later.”

She was practically running once she was out of sight, unable to slow down despite the heat making her lightheaded.

Cassie often counted her blessings that she’d gotten a chance to work with Ethan, the compassionate and caring doctor who’d captured her heart. But for the first time in her life, she wished she’d never met Dr. Ramsey.

Part 3: The Aftermath

Part 4: The Closure

Ethan poured Malbec into a long-stemmed wine glass for Cassie the moment he heard her keys rattle in the apartment door. He’d had his ears cocked for the last half-hour, the trepidation building with every passing minute.

He heard the swoosh of the hallway closet door as she likely hung up her coat and the clatter of her shoes hitting the hardwood floor. Just as she walked into the living room, he took a large swallow of his wine and promptly started coughing when it went down the wrong pipe.

“Are you okay?” Cassie asked, her brow furrowed in concern as she approached him and brushed her hand up and down his back.

Ethan nodded, wheezing as the cough tickled his throat. He set the glass on the counter before he spilled the drink all over the kitchen floor. Finally, he managed to get himself under control.

Cassie lifted the glass of wine he’d poured for her and sipped slowly, her eyes closing as she savored the taste.

“You always know just what I need,” she said with a deep sigh. “M&M was particularly long and exhausting. Tell me, why did I choose to stay in academic medicine?”

“You’re wrong,” Ethan said quietly, causing her eyes to drift open and stare at him in surprise. “I don’t always know what you need. Something’s gone wrong between us. Things haven’t been the same since Haiti.”

Cassie pursed her lips and watched him above the rim of her glass, not reacting to his statement in any other way. Then she finished her wine and set the glass down on the counter.

“We already discussed this back then and today on text,” Cassie reminded him. “What else is there to say?”

She shrugged, and then her eyes turned hard like steel. “I need to stand on my own, but who you are, what you are…well, it casts a long shadow. I didn’t like how you and Klaus reduced me to someone who exists only because of what you saw in me. And not because I worked hard for it.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know,” Cassie cut him off. “You might not have meant to, but you defending me without giving me a chance to do it myself, you might as well have.”

“Why can’t I stand up for you?” Ethan said, frustration leaking through as he stabbed his fingers into his hair.

“I need you to stand by me, not for me,” Cassie said, her tone measured in response to his heated one. “I will always be measured by your reputation, just like you have to contend with Naveen’s legacy. We can’t control what others say or do. I’ve accepted it.”

“Then why are you angry with me?” Ethan shot back.

“I’m not angry.”

Cassie closed the distance between them, her smile throwing him off. When she took his hand and laced her fingers through his, he felt as if the tight band around his heart loosened.

“I’m not angry,” she repeated, squeezing his fingers. “But I resent that, despite what we talked about in Haiti, your natural inclination on seeing that Pictagram post was to respond defending my honor.”

“Don’t deny it,” she cautioned when he started to do just that. “If I wanted to shoot down small-minded individuals, I’m more than capable of doing it myself.”

Ethan took a deep breath in and then exhaled. “I did want to do that,” he admitted. “I saw red because what they said was so far from reality.”

“If you thought that was bad, it’s good you’re not on Reddit,” Cassie said, twisting her lips in a wry smile.

“You know, if someone attacked your reputation, I’d be upset too.” She nestled against him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist.

“But we both know the truth. I respect you enough to let you tear into shreds anyone that came at you. Give me the same courtesy, at least professionally,” Cassie added, angling her lips to kiss the underside of his jaw.

“If it was a personal attack, you have my permission to destroy them with that deathly Dr. Ramsey glare.”

Ethan snorted with laughter when she perfectly mimicked his angry expression.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said, framing her face between his hands. His lips hovered above hers, waiting, prolonging the anticipation.

“You may kis—”

But she didn’t need to finish for he was already kissing her, and she was kissing him back. Everything was finally right in their world.

-----------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[cariantha]

A Chance Encounter (1/3)

Book: Open Heart (Pre-Series) Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff Word count: 2.5K Series Summary: Ten years prior to meeting at Edenbrook, Ethan and Sawyer have a chance encounter during spring break.

Chapter Summary: Ethan comes to Sawyer’s aid after a minor accident.

Part One: The Meet-Cute

July 2022 - Boston, Massachusetts

As Ethan rounded the corner, he saw the woman waiting in the lobby slump out of her chair and hit the floor. Jumping into action, he rushed over and knelt at her side. Placing two fingers on the side of her neck, he checked for a pulse. 

Out of habit, he called out the woman’s vitals. “Pulse is weak. She’s unresponsive.” Quickly scanning the gathering crowd, he spotted blue scrubs - the tell-tale sign of an intern - pushing through the bystanders. When his eyes landed on her concerned features, his heart slammed against his chest. “No fucking way.”

Shaking off the startling surprise and focusing on the blue-faced woman lying in front of him, he pointed a finger at the familiar face and crooked his finger. “You. Rookie. Get in here.”  

If he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, the electric current that coursed through him when he clasped the nervous doctor’s trembling hand, was all the convincing he needed. 

Once their patient had been whisked away and the crowd began to disperse, Ethan approached the wide-eyed intern, searching for a hint of recognition. He was disappointed when he found none.

“Doctor… that was… absolutely amazing!” she exclaimed.

His ego bruised, he reflexively hardened his demeanor.

She was taken aback when he delivered a harsh critique of her performance. “Amateur?”

The attending wore a look of warning on his face as the intern gave him a once over, sizing him up. 

“Maybe you can give me private lessons,” she finally suggested, cool as a cucumber.

Remembering where he’d heard that line before, he couldn’t contain his laugh. “Ha! I just might, Doctor…” Stepping into her personal space, he reached for her ID card and read the name. 

Sawyer Brooks

Ten years had passed without him ever knowing her name. They had agreed it was for the best to remain anonymous, to be realistic about their circumstances, to avoid attachment and unnecessary complications. 

“Well, so much for that,” Ethan sighed as he made his way to the atrium. 

March 2012 - East Hampton, New York

After a cramped five hour drive from John Hopkins University to East Hampton, New York, Ethan sat in a folding beach chair under a large rainbow umbrella. His toes dug into the cool, white sand as a refreshing Atlantic breeze blew through his overgrown chestnut waves. 

His roommate and two medical school friends threw a football around at the water’s edge, but Ethan was content to sit and read, glancing up only occasionally when one of them dove into the shallows to make a dramatic catch.

Not far down the beach, he spotted two young women struggling against the wind to spread out a beach blanket. Small children skipped excitedly to the wet sand, scooping it up and filling their plastic buckets. 

A short while later, large sets rolled into shore, the loud crashes pulling Ethan’s attention from his book. Giddy laughter called him back to the nearby beachgoers. The brunette woman, who stood knee-deep in the water, kept a watchful eye on the little boy and girl who chased each other with seaweed. At their blanket, the blonde stood and picked up a surfboard. In a cheeky hot pink bikini, her toned physique was on full display as she carried the board over her head down to the water. Her companions waved as she tossed the board over the surf and slid onto it, paddling out to deeper water. 

The kids cheered when Sawyer caught her first wave. The young men playing catch nearby joined in, offering their encouragement each time she caught a wave. “Go, go, go!” They also offered a few fist-to-the-mouth “Dohs!” when she wiped out. After a particular gnarly spill, one of the men ogled as Sawyer stood up in the waist deep water and adjusted her crooked bikini top.

With his eye most definitely not on the ball, Tobias caught the incoming throw with his face. “Oof!”

Too exhausted to paddle out again, Sawyer called it quits. 

As if it were happening in slow motion, Ethan watched intently from behind his Wayfarers as she emerged from the water. The rivulets running down her sun-kissed skin glistened in the afternoon sun. He found it sexy as hell the way she carried her board under one arm and pushed water from her hair with the other. 

Having drifted a ways down the beach, Sawyer started walking back to her claim of sand. “Whoa!” she shouted, jumping back suddenly.

Running backwards into her path, Tobias nearly tackled her as he lept outstretched for the inbound football. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” she sidestepped the stranger with slight annoyance.

He launched the ball back to his friends and signaled that he was done playing, quickly catching up to her. “Those were some impressive moves out there, Gidge."

"Pardon?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"You know… Gidge… as in Gidget. The old-timey surf movie?"

"Yeah, I got the reference. I'm just surprised you know it."

He shrugged, "I was forced to watch it a thousand times growing up. My mom and sisters watched it all the time.”

As they walked back, Tobias asked if she was from the island. Sawyer shared that she was in New York for spring break with her best friend, Christian. Christian was the nanny for an affluent family from Los Angeles vacationing in the Hamptons for the week. The family, desperate to have their nanny join them on the trip, encouraged Christian to invite a friend to make the trip more worthwhile.

Sawyer asked the same question in return. Tobias explained that his current stepfather, his mother’s third husband, owned the house where he and his friends were enjoying their own break from medical school at John Hopkins. 

Approaching his group, she saw a couple guys munching on chips and reaching for beers in a cooler. Behind them sat a dark-haired hunk with broad shoulders, strong pecs, and washboard abs. He had a striking profile, though his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. 

Sawyer curiously stared back when Ethan turned in her direction. His head robotically tracked her movements as she walked past.

She was the first to break their staring contest, looking away when Tobias asked, “Do you wanna hang for a bit? Have a drink?”

“I should get back to my friend,” she answered, tilting her head toward Christian and the kids, “but maybe we'll see you around later.”

As she left a trail of footprints in the sand, Tobias called out to her. "See ya, Gidge! Maybe you can give us private lessons tomorrow!”

Spinning around and walking backwards, Sawyer shouted back to him with a teasing smile. "You can’t afford me!” Her eyes were drawn to Ethan again as she turned to face forward. There was an intensity in his gaze, even from behind his sunglasses, that made her pause before finally turning away.

“I’m disappointed she didn’t want to hang,” Tobias told his friends, taking a beer from one of them, “but wooo-weee, I am not upset to watch her walk away.” 

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

The next day, while his friends were nursing their hangovers, Ethan took advantage of the remaining morning hours to get some exercise. Returning from his jog down the beach, he spotted the brunette and children from the day before, building castles in the sand. His eyes searched for the blonde, finding her out on the water. But as quickly as he found her, she disappeared, a rogue wave taking her by surprise. Ethan slowed to a stop when her board torpedoed to the surface without her. He stood in anxious wait for what seemed like several minutes. On this private stretch of beach, there were no lifeguards. There was no one else to come to her aid, and just as he was about to jump into action, her head finally popped out of the water.

Sawyer struggled to find her footing as another wave crashed into her back. Her shoulders slumping from exhaustion, she coughed violently to clear her lungs of the swallowed salt water.

Urging the kids to stay put, Christian ran to the water, offering her friend a steady hand. That’s when Ethan noticed the streaks of red running down Sawyer’s leg as she slowly dragged her board to shore. 

“Oh my god, you’re bleeding!” Christian exclaimed, making her sit down on the board. “What happened?” 

“My leash got hooked on a ro–” She stopped as a towering figure suddenly shaded her from the morning sun. Sawyer’s gaze traveled up his sweaty, shirtless body. When she reached his eyes, they mirrored the sparkling blue ocean behind him. 

“Are you okay?” Ethan asked.

“I–I’m not sure,” she said looking down at her bloodied thigh. As Ethan crouched down to examine her wounds, she was momentarily transfixed by his handsome face, only snapping out of it when he lifted his eyes to hers. “You… you were with the Hopkins guys the other day,” she coughed again.

“I was.”

“Are you a med student, too?” 

“I am,” he answered, returning to his full height. “Did you swallow much water?”

Sawyer shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“We’re staying there,” he pointed to the nearby estate, “If you’d like, I can help you clean and bandage those cuts and scrapes.” 

“Could you, please?” Christian interjected. “I would help her back to the house, but I’ve got my hands full with the kids.”

Ethan nodded and waited for Sawyer’s consent. 

“Okay,” she said, getting to her feet. 

Ethan grabbed for the t-shirt he had halfway tucked into his back pocket. “I promise it’s mostly clean,” he assured, gently wiping some of the sand and blood away for a closer look. “You’ve got a pretty nasty cut here, but I don’t think it will need stitches. You can use this to keep pressure on it while we walk back.” 

A jolt of electricity coursed through her when her hand covered his to take hold of the shirt. Sawyer suspected Ethan felt it too, their eyes flitting to each other as he slid his hand out from under hers.

When she made a move to lift her board, Ethan put his hand out to hold her back. “I’ve got it,” he insisted.

“Th–thank you,” Sawyer stammered, butterflies taking flight in her stomach.

They walked in silence for a couple minutes before Ethan burst the bubble of nervous energy that surrounded them. “You know, if you had agreed to those private lessons, I'd be asking for a refund right about now," he teased.

“Jerk,” she giggled, giving him a playful shove. Ethan returned a small smile, barely flinching when her hand connected with his rock hard tricep. “I never claimed to be a professional. Amateur at best.”

“Where’d you learn to surf?” 

“Growing up I spent summers at my grandparents' beach house in San Diego. My brother and I found some old boards in the garage one year and we just taught ourselves,” she explained.

“Are you from California then?”

“Technically, Arizona. But I’m currently living in Cali for school. Caltech.”

“Caltech? Really?” he sounded surprised.

Slightly offended by his reaction, “Gee, thanks. Is that really so hard to believe?” 

“No! Sorry, I meant no offense,” Ethan quickly apologized. “I meant it more like… damn. Caltech is known as the MIT of the west coast. What are you majoring in?” he probed, his interest peaked.

“Bio with a minor in neurobiology. I’ve been torn between going pre-med or biotech, and I really need to make a decision soon. I’m scheduled to meet with my advisor when I get back, to enroll for next semester.”

If he had not already been smitten by her beauty, her proven intelligence and passion for science would have certainly captivated him.

Before another awkward silence settled in, Sawyer began her own line of questioning. “What about you? Did you complete your undergrad at Hopkins too?” 

Ethan shook his head. “No, I went to Brown. Pre-med.”

“Ivy League. Huh.” There was definitely a hint of prejudice in her tone. 

“Who’s the judgmental one now?” he asked, whipping his head toward her. “I’ll have you know I was on scholarship and it was conveniently close to home,” Ethan defended.

“I was just messing with ya,” she winked. “That’s pretty cool actually. I’m on scholarship too. So, you’re an east-coaster then?” 

“Yeah.” 

The disappointing reality settled over them as Ethan escorted her through the garden gate that led into the private property. He showed her to the outdoor shower and propped her surfboard up against the side of the house. 

“I’m going to grab a towel and a first aid kit. I’ll be right back,” he said, heading inside the beachside mansion. 

Ethan paused just inside the house upon returning with the items. He peered through the large mirrored windows that provide privacy from the outside world. He watched as Sawyer tilted her head back to rinse the sand from her hair, as if she were putting on a private show just for him. The sun backlit her curves as she arched her back, creating a picture worthy of a magazine cover.

Sawyer was wringing out her hair when Ethan reappeared and offered her the towel. Guiding her to a nearby lounge chair, he gestured for her to sit. He knelt beside her and checked her wounds again, making sure all the sand had been washed away. Confident nothing required stitches, Ethan opened the first aid kit. 

The mere thought of his touch made Sawyer’s skin prickle with goosebumps.

"This is going to sting," he warned before delicately dragging an antiseptic wipe over the affected areas. When Sawyer hissed in pain, Ethan gently blew on her skin, his eyes shifting up to hers to see if it eased the discomfort. 

She wasn’t sure if it was his cool breath that caressed her skin or his mesmerizing azure eyes that distracted her from the pain. Whatever it was, the smile that spread across Sawyer’s face suggested that it had the desired effect.

“How long are you guys in town for?” she asked as Ethan applied ointment over her scrapes and bandaged the deeper cut. Sawyer tried hard not to laugh at the serious expression on his face as he concentrated on applying the bandage perfectly.

“Um… we’re heading back to Baltimore… uh… the day after tomorrow,” Ethan finally managed, smoothing down the edges of the large band aid. “You?”

“The day after that,” she shared.

Lacking an excuse to keep her there any longer, Ethan stood, offering his hand to help her up. “You’re all set.”

“Thank you. If your bedside manner is any indication, you’re gonna be one helluva doctor.” 

Ethan’s cheeks blushed a light shade of pink, accepting the compliment with a shy grin. And as if they both realized it at the time, they let go of their still-joined hands. 

Reluctantly, Sawyer tucked her surfboard under her arm to take her leave. “Well, thanks again,” she smiled and turned toward the house next door. 

Ethan watched her take a few steps, feeling optimistic when she suddenly stopped and twisted sideways with her board.

“Hey-” she began to say, only to be interrupted by the sound of bellowing laughter. 

Ethan followed her gaze behind him. 

“There’s our always brooding, blue-eyed beauty!” Tobias called out, tackling his roommate with a provoking smooch on the cheek. “What are you making us for breakfast, bro?” 

Annoyed, Ethan shoved him away. “Get off me, man.” 

When he looked back, Sawyer was gone.  

Part 2: The Hook-Up (coming soon!)

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @peonierose  @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter @queencarb @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @jamespotterthefirst @liaromancewriter @zealouscanonindeer @tveitertotwrites @tessa-liam @youlookappropriate @kyra75 @socalwriterbee @txemrn

[midnightmelodiz]

Loved reading this story! Can't wait to read the next part! Can I be added to your tag list, please?

[liaromancewriter]

It Happened One Miami Night (2/?)

Series Premise: A work trip to Miami means finally accepting that some risks are worth taking. Or are they?

Fandom: Choices Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff Words: 975

Part 1

A/N: I'm using @choicesflashfics week 77, prompt 2 and @choicesmonthlychallenge March challenge dialogue prompt 7.

In the usual scheme of things, Ethan Ramsey enjoyed attending medical conferences. He found the plenaries and presentations on ongoing research thought-provoking, for the most part, and enjoyed scintillating conversations with noted medical minds from around the world.

But these were not regular times. Half of him was still in Boston, running differentials and trying to find a cure for Naveen. The other half was deathly worried his plan this weekend would fail on both fronts: convincing Declan Nash to help him and keeping things strictly professional with Cassie Valentine.

To make matters worse, he spotted the current president of the AMA, who sneered nastily when their eyes met across the lobby. He was clearly still smarting from when Ethan had torn apart his keynote address after last year’s conference.

The man’s research was flawed. Was he supposed to sit quietly and shower adoration on a pompous fraud?

He mentally rolled his eyes and half-listened to colleagues who’d accosted him as soon as they arrived at the hotel in Miami.

Ethan might have exaggerated when he told the Rookie that everyone at these conferences either hated him or wanted something from him, but the truth was somewhere in between.

Given his relatively young age, senior physicians felt he hadn’t earned his dues yet and needed to be put in his place. Event organizers coerced him into participating in their program — an example of a young doctor who’d completed his training in the new millennium. His age showed residents they’d chosen the right career, and success was in sight sooner than they thought.

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat as Cassie appeared through the rotating doors. His eyes narrowed as he noticed her disquiet. Was there an issue with her room? He might have added her to the trip late, but he had updated the hotel reservation before the cut-off deadline.

Her expression cleared as she ran into Mirani and Delarosa. He was too far away to hear their conversation, but the easy smile and laughter in Cassie’s eyes mesmerized him. A gentle ocean breeze ruffled her hair and toyed with the hem of her black dress, lifting it above her knee.

He froze, a fly helplessly caught in a spider’s web.

“She’s off limits,” he repeated silently under his breath, forcing himself to look away.

After promising to meet for drinks later, he finally extricated himself from the group. He joined Cassie near the steps, where she was instructing the bellhop about their luggage.

“Dear lord, that was tedious,” Ethan commented. “Please, tell me we’re all set with the rooms.”

“Yes, but there was one problem,” Cassie said, handing the bellhop a folded bill before facing Ethan and giving him a keycard. “The reservation was only for room.”

Ethan rubbed his brows as Cassie explained the room mix-up. He felt the heat under his collar at the thought of sharing a couples’ suite with her. This weekend was already off to a rough start.

“Morons.” His eyes snapped in anger at the incompetence of the hotel staff.

But he was more annoyed at himself. He’d been in a hurry when he called the hotel a few days ago and should’ve paid more attention.

“Let’s head inside,” he said as Cassie watched him anxiously. “We’ve got work to do.”

Thirty minutes later, Ethan marched out of the convention hall and kept going, uncaring about the voices calling his name in greeting.

“Dr. Ramsey, wait,” he heard Cassie behind him, but he couldn’t face her. Not yet.

His head buzzed with Nash’s taunts, and the vindictiveness in the other man’s supercilious tone burned like salt on an open wound.

He stopped when he reached the outdoor deck facing the ocean. Gripping the railing tightly, he breathed in the saltwater air and closed his eyes against the rays of the mid-morning sun.

Ethan’s shoulders hunched in dejection. He had failed Naveen.

He jumped when he felt a hand tentatively touch his back. From the way his pulse quickened, he knew it was Cassie.

God, he wanted to lose himself in her. Just once, he wanted to take something for himself without worrying about risks or consequences.

“It’s pointless,” he said quietly, watching waves crash against the white sands. “Nash won’t budge.”

“About that … I think we need to talk,” Cassie said, breathless from chasing after him. “Nash isn’t the only Panacea rep here. I can wait until he leaves the booth and try with someone else.”

“They all report to him,” Ethan said, looking over his shoulder. “By now, they’ve all been warned not to help us.”

“But——”

“This is not your fault, Valentine,” Ethan cut off her protests with a raised hand. “I knew it was a long shot.”

“We can still try,” Cassie insisted, lifting one manicured hand to shade her eyes as she tilted her head back to gaze determinedly at him. “We have two whole days here.”

“You should attend the sessions,” Ethan said, peering intently into green eyes brimming with emotion. “It’s good learning for a resident and will give you a leg up in the competition.”

“I thought we were in this together,” Cassie said, lifting her hands in an agitated plea.

“I need to catch up with some colleagues.” He shook his head and made to brush past her into the lobby. “I’ll see you later.”

Ethan knew abandoning Cassie like that was cowardly, but his feelings were too raw. Desire swam under the surface, ready to surface at the slightest provocation. He had to get himself under control before sharing a room with her.

Off limits, he told himself grimly.

But his heart had a mind of its own, and he glanced over his shoulder to where Cassie stood, watching him walk away, the sun shining down on her, lighting her blonde hair bright like a beacon calling him home.

--------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @justyourusualash @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @youlookappropriate

[midnightmelodiz]

Can't wait for the next part!!

[midnightmelodiz]

Hii 🥰

Just a wanted to send you a little positivity. Hope you have a great day 🥰

This is really sweet 🥺 Thank you 🤍

[midnightmelodiz]

Thank you for doing such a wonderful job with the September Challenge! You really had some wonderful prompts; I wish I would have had more time to write this month. I'm sure I'll end up coming back to some.

But, I just wanted to say thanks! :)

Thank you so much for this sweet message and also for participating in this month's event 🤍🥺 This really made my day 🤍

[tessa-liam]

Marabelle

It’s A Dream Come True

– Chapter 7

Choices – The Royal Romance, AU

Series Premise – An American teenager from New York City is introduced to the world of a small European country and its society of royalty, nobility, and commoners. How will her life story be transformed? Will this new adventure bring her happiness...or regret?

Marabelle Series Masterlist

Main Pairing – Prince Liam Rys x F!OC Sophia (Sophie) Taylor

Other Pairings – Maxwell Beaumont x M!OC Daniel (from NYC), Drake Walker x F!OC Melanie Smithson

Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Series Rating – M*🔞Warnings: this series will have NSFW material, crude language & innuendo.

Not Beta’d - Please excuse all errors.

Category – Alternate universe/on-going series/angst/fluff

Words: 2393

It’s A Dream Come True

Chapter 7

Chapter Summary – It’s the evening of the Masquerade Ball. Bertrand and Maxwell formally introduce Sophie to King Constantine as Lady Sophia of House Beaumont and officially joins the court as a noblewoman. Prince Liam and Sophie spend more time together and reach a milestone.

Music Inspiration:

When You Walk in the Room, Sanne Saomonse

A/N1: Bethany Beaumont, Maxwell’s mother, is originally from the U.S. and is Barthelemy Beaumont’s second wife. Annabelle Beaumont (deceased) is Bertrand’s mother.

A/N2: ‘Social Season’ in this AU series refers to a traditional period in the spring/summer for royalty and members of the court to take part in Balls, dinner parties and charity events.

A/N3: My submission for Choices Flashfics @choicesflashfics, Week #52, prompt 3 - “Well...that was/this is unexpected.”

A/N4: My submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, @midnightmelodiz, Day 4 – Dreams, Day Dream, “I’m in love with you!”

It’s A Dream Come True

Royal Gym, Cordonian Palace

In the heart of the palace, Liam and Drake were in the midst of an intense workout session. The Royal gymnasium was within an imposing chamber with high, vaulted ceilings, adorned with paintings of legendary battles and noble ancestors.

Liam adjusted the weights on the bench press and began to lift, his muscles straining against the resistance. Drake, spotting him, supplied encouragement.

“You’ve got this, Li! Remember, every rep gets you one step closer to looking dashing in that masquerade outfit.” Drake chortled with a grin.

Liam chuckled, grateful for Drake’s support. “I don’t know how I’d manage this without you, my friend. It’s not just about looking good at the ball, though. I want everything to be perfect for Sophie. This is a big night for her.”

Drake nodded, understanding all too well the pomp and circumstance of court events.

“Yeah, I feel you, buddy. Melanie has been talking about this ball non-stop. It’s like the Super Bowl of fancy parties, and I am determined not to embarrass her.”

Their conversation paused momentarily as they continued their workout, their thoughts on their respective relationships. While Drake thought about Melanie and their commitment to each other, Liam’s thoughts went back to his conversation with Sophie after the garden party.

‘Sophie, I’m glad you could make it.’

'Thank you for inviting me, Liam.’

'I hope you don’t mind my asking, but is everything all right? You seemed a little ... disturbed earlier.’

‘I must admit, running into your chest was not exactly how I envisioned starting a conversation today.’

'Nor I, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.’

Sophie opened up about the events that had troubled her that day. She spoke about the pressures of court and the weight of expectations, and her encounter with Madeleine.

Liam knew and understood that the palace and the court can be overwhelming; even at times, for himself. He found that they had ‘common ground in unexpected places.’

This was why he was determined to get to know her better. He felt a connection with her and a shared understanding that went beyond their titles. Liam wanted to find out everything about her.

After finishing their sets, they retreated to the terrace to grab water bottles and fresh fruit. Liam sat down with a towel and wiped sweat from his brow. “Have you chosen your mask for the ball yet?” he asked Drake.

Drake scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Not yet, but I’ve been thinking something mysterious and intriguing. Melanie loves a good mystery, so I want to keep her guessing all night.”

Liam grinned. “All night, Drake? Really?”

“Yeah, maybe not all night,” Drake winked with a grin. Liam laughed taking a swig of water.

The Masquerade Ball

“Awe, Sophie... look at you!” 

Maxwell blurted excitedly, as he twirled her around to appreciate her gorgeous red ball gown.

Sophie blushed at Maxwell’s enthusiastic compliment, feeling a warm flutter of happiness in her chest. Her ball gown, with its intricate lace details and flowing skirt, had taken her hours to choose with Aunt Bethany, but it was worth it to see the delight in Maxwell’s eyes.

“Thank you, Max,” she replied, her voice soft and touched by his admiration. “You don't look too shabby yourself in that dashing suit.”

Maxwell chuckled and gave her a playful wink. “Well, I had to step up my game to match your elegance tonight. Wait until Liam sees you, little blossom,” he teased.

“Are we ready?” Bertrand inquired, stepping beside Sophie and his brother, offering his arm for her to take.

As Sophie slipped her arms with her cousins, Maxwell exclaimed, “let’s do this.”

The doors to the grand ballroom are opened, and the herald announces,

“Lady Sophia Taylor of House Beaumont, accompanied by Duke Bertrand Beaumont of Ramsford with Lord Maxwell Beaumont of House Beaumont.”

The Introductions continued, as each noble or noble couple made their entrance into the ballroom.

King Constantine and Queen Regina, seated on the raised dais, exchanged polite greetings and nods with each noble as they were presented, their regal presence commanding respect and admiration from all in attendance.

As Sophie, Bertrand, and Maxwell approached the royal dais, Sophie executed a graceful curtsy, her gown billowing elegantly as she lowered herself before the King and Queen.

Bertrand and Maxwell, the brothers by her side, performed deep and respectful bows.

King Constantine and Queen Regina acknowledged their gestures with warm smiles and nods of appreciation.

Prince Liam, who was standing to the right of the dais, could not help but smile as he caught Sophie’s eye after she had finished her graceful curtsy as she moved towards him. His smile was warm and friendly, a silent greeting that conveyed his pleasure at seeing her once again.

"My lady, you are a vision of beauty."

Sophie, her cheeks tinged with a subtle blush from his attention, returned Liam’s smile with a gentle one of her own. It was a small, private moment amidst the grandeur of the ballroom, but it spoke volumes of their connection and friendship in the midst of the royal event.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as he gently lifted her hand and pressed a tender kiss to it. Her heart fluttered at his chivalrous act, as she felt a rush of warmth and attraction towards him.

With a charming smile, Liam offered his arm to Sophie in invitation to join him in the ballroom. She gracefully accepted, her hand resting delicately on his arm as they entered the grand hall together, the music and festivities swirling around them.

Melanie, watching the pair stroll into the ballroom, could not take her eyes off them. Their presence captivated her completely.

“Do you want another drink, Mel?” Drake asked, trying to get her attention. His voice broke through Melanie’s trance, and she turned to look at him, momentarily torn between her fascination with Liam and Sophie and the offer of another drink.

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Melanie replied, her gaze reluctantly leaving the couple as she refocused on Drake. “Thanks, Drake.”

As Drake shook his head and started to walk to the bar, Melanie could not help but steal another glance at the couple now across the room. Liam and Sophie looked so comfortable together, their laughter heard from across the hall. It was hard for Melanie to ignore the pang of jealousy that tugged at her heart.

Drake returned with a fresh drink in hand, offering it to Melanie with a warm smile.

“Everything okay?” he asked, concern clear in his eyes.

Melanie forced a smile, trying to shake off her feelings of longing. “Yeah, just lost in thought, I guess. Thanks for the drink, babe.”

He nodded understandingly, his stare lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned to talk with his sister, Savannah. Melanie took a sip of her drink, determined to enjoy the evening despite the twinge of heartache.

Melanie watched as Liam gracefully guided Sophie across the ballroom floor, their waltz a mesmerizing display of elegance. The couple moved with such synchronized grace that it seemed as if they were the only two people in the room. She could not help but feel a pang of envy at their obvious connection.

As they waltzed towards the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony, Melanie’s curiosity got the best of her. She decided to follow discreetly, making her way through the crowd and out onto the balcony as well. The cool night air greeted her, and she saw Liam and Sophie standing at the balcony railing, gazing out at the garden maze.

From her vantage point, Melanie could see the intricate pathways of the garden maze lit by soft, romantic lighting, when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Startled, Melanie turned to see a royal guard standing behind her. She immediately straightened up and offered a polite smile.

“I’m sorry,” she said apologetically. “I didn't realize. I was just admiring the view.”

The royal guard nodded, his expression stern but professional. “I understand, Miss, but for security reasons, we need to keep this area clear. I’ll have to ask you to return to the main ballroom.”

Melanie nodded in understanding. “Of course, I didn’t mean to intrude. Thank you for letting me know.”  She turned to leave the balcony, casting one last glance at Liam and Sophie, but they were no longer there.

The Garden Maze

Sophie’s laughter echoed through the hedges as she darted around corners. Her gown billowing behind her. The scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the distant sound of music from the palace mingled with the symphony of nature. Liam pursued her with playful determination, his eyes alight with mischief as he turned a corner.

He found Sophie, cheeks flushed with eyes sparkling, standing at a small clearing where a stone bench rested beneath a canopy of Ivy. Sophie, breathless but with an impish grin hiked up her gown, revealing her shapely legs and slipped off her heels.

“A lady must do what a lady must do,” she declared, her voice teasing. Liam couldn't help but chuckle, charmed by Sophie’s unpretentious spirit. He approached slowly, allowing himself to savor the moment.

“Well, this is unexpected,” Liam remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

Sophie's eyes twinkled mischievously. “You didn't think I let you catch me so easily, did you?”

Liam shook his head, feigning innocence. "Of course not. I just did not expect you to resort to such …  tactics.”

With a playful glint in her eyes. Sophie stepped closer. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, don't they?” She winked.

Their continued banter dissolved into shared laughter, filling the garden with an infectious joy. Liam took a step closer, his fingers lightly brushing against Sophie's as he reached for her.

“Well then, Lady Sophie, I shall have to employ my own tactics.”

As if in response, Sophie took a step back, her eyes dancing with anticipation.

“And what tactics might those be?”

With a sly smile, Liam lunged forward, but Sophie was quicker than he anticipated. She dodged his outstretched hand with a graceful pirouette, her laughter ringing out like a sweet melody.

 Their game of tag continued, each chase and evasion bringing them closer together, the connection between them growing stronger with every shared moment. The palace seemed a distant world, forgotten in the enchantment of their own private garden.

They finally paused, breathless, and flushed from their game of tag.

Liam’s gaze met Sophie's, and in that moment, the world seemed to fade away leaving only the two of them.

Their newfound love, unspoken yet palpable, hung in the air like fragrance of the surrounding flowers. It was a love that was blossoming amidst the twists and turns of the garden maze, a love that had taken root in their hearts.

Without a word, Liam took a step closer, his hand gently cupping Sophie’s cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Their lips met in a tender, unhurried kiss. Sophie's blue eyes met his as Liam wrapped his other hand around her waist to pull her closer. Their lips met again, this time with an urgency as Liam deepened the kiss; his tongue searching hers.

Beaumont Estate

It was early morning when Sophie awoke in her bedroom at House Beaumont. The dreams she had experienced that night were like fragments of a beautiful story unfolding into reality.

As the soft light filtered through the gauzy curtains, Sophie could not help but smile. She lay in bed, the memories of her adventures with Liam in the garden maze still fresh in her mind. The way he chased her, the laughter they had shared, and the kisses that had ignited a fire within her heart.

With a contented sigh, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She couldn’t linger in bed all day, no matter how tempting it was to stay in bed with her daydreams. ...but she knew Marabelle was waiting for her morning ride.

Sophie picked up a brush and began to brush her long, chestnut hair. Her reflection in the mirror seemed different now – happier, more alive. She remembered the laughter they had shared, the way Liam’s eyes sparkled when he looked at her, and the warmth of his embrace. In her thoughts...Liam, I think, I’m in love with you!

📌@ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234 @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @choicesficwriterscreations @midnightmelodiz

[jerzwriter]

A Moment in Time... (Trystan's POV)

Part one of this short series was written a couple months ago when we didn't know the ending of Crimes of Passion 2. Now that we do, I retrofit the initial part, just a little, to make this an alternate ending AU. What if Trystan had become king? Because in this world, he did. It's now two years later, and he's about to be wed. The whole world, including Carolina, can't escape the coverage, and he can't escape the regret he has over the choices he made.

Part One: Carolina's POV can be found here.

Now, let's explore Trystan's thoughts as he approaches the big day.

Book: Crimes of Passion 2 (Post Series) Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x F!MC (Carolina Rose), Past Rating: Teen Category: AU/Angst Words: 3,280 Summary: Please see above. A/N: This was initially going to be an open-ended, two-part story. But I've changed it so we will have a conclusion. So, Part 3 will be forthcoming. Participating in @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, Day 4, They've been secretly in love with each other for a long time.

I hope you enjoy the story!

Please note: If you read the original story in the past, Part 1 has been changed very slightly to accommodate for things that took place in canon. I hope you enjoy this!

The silence weighed heavily in Trystan’s room. So much that the gentle tap on his door sounded like a boom as it reverberated off the cavernous walls.

“Come in,” he beckoned, never turning to meet the servant’s gaze.

He concentrated on the crowd assembling beyond the palace walls; they seemed to be doubling in size by the hour. Boisterous and draped in the colors of the Drakovian flag, the festival-like atmosphere was a vivid contrast to the mood inside Trystan’s chambers.

The sound of china teacups being placed on the marble table echoed through the room. Marguerite smiled politely, acknowledging the servant with a gentle nod before they took their leave. She raised the cup to her lips, hoping the fragrant mix of spices would provide her with some comfort; then, she could pass it on to her brother, who was desperately in need. But one look at his forlorn expression, and she hung her head in defeat. Comfort was a tall order; the most she could do was attempt to help him through.

Joining him at the window, she rested her head on his shoulder. 

“Well, the public is certainly in support,” she observed.

“Yes. The world is so eager for a fairytale that they’ll accept any farce being spun into one. Yet, heaven forbid they should see the real thing.”

“How do you think it feels to be a normal person?” She asked. “You know, people who don’t approach their wedding as if it were a death sentence?”

“I don’t know, Mags,” he replied sadly. “I’ve only had a brief taste of normal, and that was just borrowed time.”

The rehearsal was over, and the cocktail receptions for dignitaries who had arrived from every corner of the globe were now behind him. All that was left to do was get dressed and show up at the cathedral tomorrow. If there was any silver lining today, his mother and betrothed were far too busy to have any time or interest in him; if only every day could be this way. He intended to spend it alone, but  Marguerite wouldn’t hear of it, and as she led him to the tea table set up in the corner, he almost broke a smile.

“I had them make badambura,” she smiled. “I remember you loved them when I was a child.”

“When we were children,” he corrected, biting into the flaky almond treat. “A simpler time, when the world’s ails could be soothed with a pastry.”

 “That’s only because we didn’t know better,” she advised. “How are you holding up, brother?”

“I’m doing what is necessary. That’s what I was born for, right?”

Marguerite put her cup on the table and crossed her arms defiantly. “Save that answer for the rest of the family. I’m worried about you, Trystan. Look, even as a child, I found the... arrangement... our parents had to be... peculiar, but looking at it from this angle, I can see our father probably needed it just to survive. But you don’t have that; you’re doing this alone, and it can’t be easy.”

Trystan placed his hand lovingly over his sisters and offered a reassuring smile. “It’s all right. I’ll manage.”

Manage. That’s the most he had been able to do since that day. He managed. He lived up to his duties and gave performances worthy of an Oscar. Most bought it or had little concern for it’s sincerity. It was his role that mattered to them, not the man. But Mags was different, and as Trystan had fallen silent, she had no question about where his mind had traveled.

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. His heart had yet to accept the fate that his mind knew was inevitable. He spoke with his father... begged his father... to see if he could alter the rules to allow him to marry Carolina. While Trystan didn’t hold out much hope if he was going to survive this day, he had to push those thoughts aside, and what better distraction than the beautiful woman at his side.  

“Could you hand me those cufflinks?” he asked.

Carolina lifted them and watched as the Drakovian royal seal embellished on them glimmered in the light before she helped fit them to his cuffs.

“Have I mentioned how handsome you look?” She smiled. “I wasn’t the kind of girl to daydream about fairytales often, but I still managed to have one or two. And I swear the handsome prince looked just like you.”

“Like me,” he feigned astonishment. “Perhaps you should have aimed a bit higher.”

Taking her hands, he pulled her in tight, savoring her touch, filling his senses with the jasmine scent of her perfume. This was all he needed, a life full of tender moments like this with his love at his side. Should that be too much to ask?

“Thank you,” he whispered, sorrow creeping into his voice.

“Happy to be of service to the King of Drakovia,” she grinned.

“I’m not a king yet.”

“Trystan... let me fantasize a little, would you? I don’t get to play handmaid to royalty often.”

“After everything you’ve seen in this palace, how can the thought of royalty still tickle you?”

She ran her hands down the front of his dress uniform, leaning into his touch.

“Because I happen to like this royal.”

“And I thank my lucky stars for that every day.” He kissed the top of her head and allowed the moment to linger, but the ticking clock reminded him that their time together was growing short. Clearing his throat, he looked at her earnestly. “I know you and the others booked your flights home. But... we haven’t heard from my father yet. Perhaps you could stay until an answer is reached.”

“Trystan,” she started, “you know luck probably isn’t on our side this time. If the rules could have been changed, your father would have changed them for him and Eveline...”

“They were different times,” he interrupted. “And my father isn’t me. And even... even if things can’t be changed... all I ask is that we remain together. Partners. Lovers. Whatever you want to call us... I just can’t lose you over this, Carolina.”

“That wouldn’t be much of a life,” Carolina answered, diverting her eyes. “You’ll be required to marry and have children, and I wouldn’t be able to be more than a consort to you, and I don’t know if that’s enough for me, Trystan.”

“I would never let that happen to you.” His voice was commanding, but they both knew the decision wasn’t his. Taking her face in his hands, he committed every curve to memory. Then, a muffled roar drew their attention toward the windows.

“Mother will be pleased,” he spoke bitterly. “After all the chaos of the past few weeks, she was afraid people would be sick of us. She underestimated how loyal... and how proud... her own people are.”

Carolina wrapped her arm around Trystan’s waist. “They’re so lucky to have you.”

“I’m not sure,” he faltered. “Vasili wasn’t wrong about me. It doesn’t excuse what he did, but I never wanted to be king. I never took the idea seriously.”

“You were practically a child then, Trystan. You’ve grown so much.”

“But is it enough? I don’t know that I love Drakovia the way a King should. Sometimes, I believe that...”

A rap on the door interrupted them, and Lydea entered, nodding politely. “It’s time, Trystan.”

“Of course. Duty calls.” He turned to Carolina again. “Please tell me you’ll be at the coronation. I need you to get through this day.”

“And if you need me, this is exactly where I will be,” she smiled.

Lydea remained in the room as Trystan exited, and something that appeared to be sincere sympathy was present in her eyes. 

“I don’t want to trouble my brother before the coronation, but I should let you know. My father has returned from his conference with the Council.”

“And you know their answer?” Carolina asked gravely.

“Even if I did, I wouldn’t be at liberty to say. But I thought you should know.”

The women exchanged a look that spoke louder than words, and Carolina smiled bravely as she swallowed back tears. “Very well. Now, you need to get Trystan to the cathedral.”

Trystan didn’t realize how long he was silent or how long Marguerite sat patiently, waiting for him to return to her. When their eyes met, a moment of truth passed between them. Marguerite’s face twisted with fear and pain, but the moment had been put off far too long, and she couldn’t allow it to pass again.

“Have you ever spoken to her, Trystan? Did you ever speak with Carolina after she left?”

Trystan’s eyes widened. Though her name was etched in his mind, no one had dared to mutter it to him in years gone by. Carolina’s memory was treated like a page in the book of his life. A page that was torn out, crumbled, and discarded as if she meant nothing at all. No one understood that as he handed them the pen to script the remainder of his days, she would still occupy every page. No matter how hard others tried to write upon them, they would remain blank for as long as they were parted. His life was no longer his own, but no one understood, he would never cede control of his heart. No one understood... except for his beloved little sister.

“Once,” he spoke so low she almost didn’t hear. “I’ve heard her voice exactly once since the day she left. I reached out to see if we could remain friends because the thought of her being completely absent from my life felt unbearable to me... it still does.”

“And...” Mags asked anxiously.

“She said she’d call if she ever falls out of love with me because, unless she did, being just friends would be too painful,” he sat on the edge of his bed and lowered his face into his hands. “And I’ve spent every day since knowing my greatest wish and worst nightmare are one and the same. Every time my phone rings, I pray her name will appear, every time. But, now I know, if that day should come, it will mean she no longer loves me.”

“Oh, my dear brother. Then I’m afraid you will never get that call.”

“I know,” he smiled sadly. “I know... and she remains no more than my most precious memory.”

“Trystan, I have to ask... I know the Council refused to overturn the rules... but you’re the king... you could have issued a decree at any time and changed everything. You could be preparing to marry Carolina tomorrow and not...”

“NO!” he answered defiantly. “No. Why should I change the rules, Mags? So she could tell me no matter how much she loves me, she can’t live this life? Or for her to accept and give up everything she loves, save me. Then she could come here and serve as queen, and I could slowly watch everything that I love about her, everything that makes her the extraordinary woman she is, slowly die before my eyes. Would that be better?”

Mags reached for his hand, but he stood up with an exasperated sigh. Pulling back the curtains, he took in the adoring crowds assembled, all waiting for him and Jia to pull off their elaborate farce. He accepted his fate, but it still felt surreal.

“Leaving things as they are, I can tell myself we had no choice. That fate was cruel, and we remain a story of true lovers ripped apart by fools who could never understand what they shared. But if I changed the rules... then I’d have to accept that we chose not to be together, and Mags, I can’t live with that.”

He waited for her words of comfort or perhaps a loving touch, but Trystan underestimated his youngest sister.

“You already do!” She spat, her words cutting like a knife. “You had a choice, Trystan. Albeit, a difficult one, but a choice nevertheless... and you chose the crown. I’m not even faulting you; I would never want to be in the position you found yourself in, but the truth is... you had a choice.”

Trystan turned to her with fire in his eyes, and Marguerite prepared herself – for his rage or to offer consolation – but she didn’t expect what would follow.

“Then I chose wrong,” he muttered. “I made the worst mistake of my life. A king should love his country above all. He should view any sacrifice he is forced to make on its behalf as an honor. I love Drakovia, Marguerite... but I love Carolina so much more. If I had to sacrifice one... it never should have been her.”

A slow smile spread on Marguerite’s face as she placed her hand on his shoulder. “From where I’m standing, big brother, you’re not dead yet... so there is time to fix this.”

“Mags,” he snorted. “Look out the window. I’m to be married tomorrow. If I tried to leave this palace today, Mother would have me dragged back by rabid dogs.”

“Then don’t tell her. Come on, Trystan, you’re smarter than that. I know walking away will be terribly hard, but what’s the alternative? You already said if you have to sacrifice something, it shouldn’t be Carolina. And, Trystan, you shouldn’t sacrifice yourself, either.”

He nervously glanced around the room, his breathing quickening. When someone finally realizes they’ve built their own cage, they also understand that they hold the key, and when freedom is within reach, the thought can be intoxicating.

“I can’t take the family’s plane...,” he stuttered, “and the airports... I would never be able to board a flight...”

But Marguerite was already on it. “No, but fortunately, your lovely sister has many friends with private jets, and some of them even owe me favors.”

“And they’d be willing to take on the Queen’s wrath?”

“Pfft,” she scoffed. “You think some American multi-millionaire cares about Queen Viktoria? Are you kidding? They’d much rather play a pivotal role in one of the greatest love stories of all times.”

Trystan stood before her astonished, as realization washed over him; he was in a state of paralysis.

“Come on!” Mags clapped her hands, snapping him out of his fugue. “I’ll make the arrangements, but you need to get dressed!”

She took a moment to take her brother in; even at that moment, she knew she’d never want to forget the smile that crossed his face. Trystan Thorne was almost free.  

~~~~

It wasn’t until he was safely aboard the luxurious private jet that a horrifying thought crossed Trytan’s mind. What if Carolina didn’t want him? What if the two years apart taught her she was better off without him? What if she couldn’t forgive him for not putting her first?

“Bloody hell,” he muttered aloud in the empty cabin.

Being a runaway groom who turned his back on his country for the woman he loved seemed a romantic notion.... unless she decided she didn’t want him in return. Then, he’d just be a fool. But even if Carolina didn’t want him, his choices from this day on were his own. For the remainder of the flight, he chose to remember the beautiful memories he shared with that snarky detective in New York. And the more he thought of them, the more he felt at ease. She had to still love him, too. She never called him like she said, so she had to. Right? He closed his eyes and tried to rest. There was a long flight ahead, and he’d have his answer soon.

~~~~~ 

It was just after one a.m. on the day he was supposed to be married. By now, the palace should have known he was gone. Then again, he was of such trivial importance his absence might go unnoticed until he was supposed to wake. At Marguerite’s suggestion, he turned off his phone. He’d have to deal with the mess his leaving created, but right now, all that mattered was seeing Carolina. As his cab pulled in front of the Drunk Tank, he was pleased to feel the warmth that rushed over him, drowning out any sense of dread he had felt just moments before.

“Is this the place?” his taxi driver asked. “Looks like it’s already closed.”

“Yes,” Trystan replied, offering several bills to the driver as a tip. “This is the place... thank you.”

“Hey, wait a second,” the driver nodded. “I know you! Aren’t you the king of that little country no one knows about? The one who solved the Hand of Mahra case, right?”

“Yeah,” Trystan grinned, pulling several more bills from his pocket. “And if you wouldn’t mind not sharing that information with the rest of the world, I’d truly appreciate it.”

“Hey, keep these coming my way. I’ll forget I saw you myself!”

The old man laughed, but Trystan was already staring into the pane-glass windows. The dimly lit room was bringing back a plethora of happy memories from another time. He stretched his neck in hopes of catching a glimpse of Carolina, but someone else met his eyes.

“Trystan?” Tommy asked with a raised brow. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” the wayward monarch smiled as he stepped in, and Tommy locked the door behind them. “It’s me.”

“Aren’t you... supposed to be getting married today?”

“Yes, something like that... but I need to see Carolina immediately. Is she here.”

The look of astonishment left her Uncle Tommy’s face, a protective stare taking its place as he crossed his arms.

“Now look, Trystan,” he started. “I always liked you. I really did. But my niece has been put through hell in recent years, and I’m not about to allow her to be hurt again.”

“I understand,” Trystan replied frantically, “and I hope you understand that hurting Carolina is the last thing I want to do. But it’s around seven in the morning in Drakovia.  If they haven’t already, someone will find my bed empty soon... just hours before my wedding was to begin. I’m not here on a whim. I’m not here to cause pain. I’m hoping my being here will end the pain for me... and Carolina. If she’ll have me, I will make her the center of my world for the rest of time. I swear to you, Tommy, I’ll never hurt her again.”

Tommy looked Trystan over, then reluctantly nodded toward the stairs. “You know where to find her room. But Trystan, pull anything funny, and so help me...”

“Tommy, you have my word.”

He didn’t remember rushing up the stairs or how he took two steps at a time to get there. He didn’t look around as he reached the landing and didn’t even remember walking down the hall. His feet delivered him to the space in front of Carolina’s door as if they had been programmed to bring him there, and in a way, they had. He had dreamed of this every day from the moment she said goodbye.  

His palms were sweaty, but his body was cold. His heart was racing so fast he was sure it would burst out of his chest. But with sheer determination, he raised his hand to knock on the door, then let out a shuddering breath. The door swung open much sooner than expected...

“Wow, that was fast!” He knew the voice anywhere, and when her eyes met his, he knew one thing... at long last, he was home. Carolina’s eyes went wide, and he couldn’t judge the look on her face as she muttered.  “It’s... it’s you.”

~~~

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub

Tagging others in reblog.

[liaromancewriter]

for the <100 drabble:

Ethan, Max, divorce

Taking Care of Business

Premise: Ethan is presented with an important contract.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Max Valentine (M!OC) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 760

A/N: Submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 day 25 prompt: surprise; I'm using @choicesflashfics week 52, prompt 3.

The knock came at the most unfortunate time. Ethan Ramsey was feeling harried after waiting two hours for the workers only to have them arrive with the wrong materials and take another hour to return with the right ones.

He swung open the front door to his apartment, his scowl turning right side up when he saw his best man on the other side.

“Well … this is unexpected,” Ethan said, stepping back to let Max Valentine in. “I thought you were traveling.”

“Caught the red-eye from Berlin,” Max explained. He held up a legal-sized manila envelope. “We have business to take care of, mon frère.”

Ethan smiled wryly, shaking his head. Max had started teasing him with that term after Ethan commented last time on the oddity of being anyone’s brother-in-law.

The younger man paused in the middle of the living room floor and frowned at the banging coming from the bedroom.

“Bad timing?”

“Ignore that.” Ethan waved away the sound and invited Max to sit at the kitchen island. “Changing up some things in the bedroom and ensuite before Cassie moves on.”

Ethan switched on the electric kettle and espresso machine at the same time. “Does your sister know you’re in town?”

“Yeah, we met up for brunch earlier,” Max said, brushing one hand down his hair and rolling the kinks out of his neck. His lips kicked up in amusement. “She thought this,” he nodded at the envelope, “would be better handled by me than Huey, Dewey, and Louie.”

“Our family’s lawyers,” Max added when Ethan looked confused. “Don’t worry, they’re not actually called that. Inside joke between Cassie and me.”

Ethan recalled the brief conversation with his fiancée last week. Given the short turnaround between their engagement and wedding, her family had been pushing to get the prenuptial agreement signed sooner rather than later.

Max removed the papers from the envelope and turned them towards Ethan.

“You’ll find the terms are very generous. Cassie wouldn’t accept anything less. You both keep what you bring in, equitable division of marital property, yada, yada,” he said. “Still, have your lawyer take a look and redline it. I’ll forward the electronic document to you.”

Ethan scanned the papers, noting the provisions for divorce, infidelity and dissolution of marriage by either party. The lawyers had done a thorough job of outlining all scenarios. What did it say about him that he wasn’t unfazed by this?

“There’s one non-negotiable clause,” Max continued as Ethan flipped the page. “You’ll receive shares in the Hudson Group after the ceremony, but they’ll revert to the family in case of divorce or death unless you and Cassie have kids.”

“Be honest,” Ethan mused, peeking at Max over the papers. “What are the chances of your sister divorcing me or letting me divorce her?”

“Since Cassie will have you buried six feet under before you can finish that thought, I’d say slim to none,” Max laughed. “But the Group’s lawyers don’t share her sunny optimism.”

“Where do I sign?” Ethan took a pen out of the kitchen junk drawer.

“As your best man, I advise you to take this to your lawyer,” Max said, all joviality wiped from his face. “Prenups are serious business, Ethan. No matter how inevitable the two of you think you are, I’ve seen strong marriages falter over the most inconsequential things.”

“Were any of them Valentines?” Ethan asked curiously.

“Not the immediate relations, but—”

“I appreciate you looking out for me,” Ethan interrupted, putting a hand up when Max started to speak. “But I’m not marrying your sister for her money or for shares in the Hudson Group. I have a comfortable life, and my father is taken care of. I don’t need anything else.”

Max drummed his fingers against the quartz countertop and stared at Ethan. The considering look in his green eyes was so similar to the one Ethan often witnessed in Cassie that he almost did a double take.

“Fine.” Max reached for his phone. “I’ll have the lawyers email you the DocuSign link. An electronic signature is easiest and more convenient since they need to file the paperwork before the wedding.”

Ethan smirked when Max threw him an annoyed look, again so much like his fiancée. “Cassie told me you’d do this, but I was adamant that you were too level-headed to sign a legal contract without proper advice. You just cost me two hundred bucks.”

“You can afford it,” Ethan said without remorse before turning away to switch off the whistling kettle. “Tea or something stronger?”

-------------

All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @midnightmelodiz

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey @youlookappropriate

[lizzybeth1986]

Saffron Sugar, Turmeric Spice

Book: Perfect Match

Pairings: f!Hayden x poly m!MC (Basil Park), f!Hayden x f!OC (Nilukshi Sigera). Implied Sloane x MC.

Summary: Sage and Basil have been in an open relationship since that moonlit chat in Berlin. He's a free agent - so is she. It's an arrangement she's grown to love...but is Sage ready to to fall in love with more than one person?

Word Count: 3,720 words

Note: I mention a comet named "Comet Hasegawa" in the second part of the fic. This is a fictional comet modelled on Comet Nishimura (C/2023 P1) which was spotted this month and won't be seen for another 400+ years.

Old Fashioned Ice Cream, the sign reads, a fairly-large four leaf clover gracing the right corner. Mashti Malone's is practically an institution here in LA - with its pastel interiors and its quaint, old-world charm and the heady, rich, floral scents of Persian bastani. Sage can't resist taking in a deep breath everytime she enters this place. Although today...today she does it less for the pleasure of all these sweet scents, and more about keeping herself calm.

It feels like only yesterday that Basil brought her here for the first time, two years ago. To will away a bit of their nervousness about catching hold of Winona Johnson, he'd said.

And it did help. Every fear they'd had that she would laugh in their face, would throw them out, would never even listen...all of it melted away when the delightful coldness of French Lavender ice cream hit her tongue. Basil had playfully swiped a tiny spoonful of his orange blossom scoop on her nose. You could almost taste the promise of so, so many honeyed nighttime kisses in their laughter that day.

Mashti Malone has been their most-visited place in LA, ever since. Sometimes with the Candy Bombs (Damien, Alana and Khaan still grimace collectively at the name), sometimes with Sloane and Kim. But more often than not, it's just the two of them. Her spending an extra three minutes at the counter, taking in the rainbow-range of colours and gleefully tasting samples; him sitting back on his chair to watch her, ice cream sandwich in hand and a twinkle in his eye.

This is a place Sage never tires of exploring, and she always leaves it with a different flavour. It was Persian cucumber the last time, a burst of freshness that soothed and invigorated her sense all at once. And before that, the crystal glow of rice noodles against creamy, rose-scented vanilla, their signature faludeh. And way before that, the treacly unctuousness of date ice cream, so rich she had to take a full pint home.

Basil's order has always remained the same. Bastani Sonnati, offered to him the minute he shows his face at the door. From time to time they take bites of each other's ice creams; the smell of saffron and rosewater is familiar, and divine. This man sticks to his favourites - a principle he applies only to food, Sage thinks to herself, giggling quietly.

Today she finds herself in need, desperately, of the sunny-hued comfort of Basil's bastani. She wants to crack the wafers of the sandwich open, watching as the ice cream stretches and pulls apart. She wants to breathe in the floral scents of rose and saffron, feel the pistachios break in a satisfying crunch between her teeth. At this point when she wants to tell Basil her wish to explore the unknown, she finds herself seeking the comfort of the familiar. So she orders her own Bastani Sonnati.

"Baby," There's a teasing fondness in Basil's tone, as if he knows she has something in her mind that she's struggling to tell. "Something's up. You haven't said a word since we've got here."

Warmth creeps up her neck. Basil knows her too well for a man she's been dating for just two years.

"Um." Sage begins, fake-clearing her throat, " remember that time you and Sloane went to DC to visit Kim, and I took up that rock climbing tour at The Gunks?"

Basil grins. "Yeah...six months ago, right?" She nods as he continues to speak, finishing off the last of his wafers. "That may have been the first time I heard you gushing about Dr Madison Eckhart, but it sure as hell wasn't the last."

She smiles and mock-punches him on the arm, shaking her head as he steals a bite of her bastani sandwich. "You would, too, if you'd seen her normally sweet mouth come up with the most creative ways to shade a cocky guy," Sage tells him, giggling at the memory before she mimics Dr Eckhart's lilting but remarkably steely voice, "Get your head out of your armpits and listen to what I'm saying for once, Greg you asshole!"

For a minute, she almost forgets what she was intending to say, simply basking in their shared laughter. But then the strongest memory she has of that excursion resurfaces - silken brown hair whipping around a weatherbeaten face...almost like a reel in her head that she has watched too long on loop - and the warmth climbs up her neck again.

"So...uh. I met someone there."

"Oh?"

Basil tilts his head slightly, his eyebrows raised in an expression of mild interest. She searches his face for any traces of doubt, or judgement, or jealousy, and finds nothing but curiosity and...a brief flash of excitement? Either he's a very good actor or what she's clearly about to say doesn't sound as transgressive to him as it has to her.

She's been worried that he'd ask her - like he did two years before when she'd moved to her own flat - if her feelings for him have changed. Whether she's lost interest. Basil has identified himself as polyamorous for years, and she and Sloane have had his version of "The Talk" more times than they could collectively count. Don't be ashamed of wanting to be with other people. Openness is key. Honesty is key.

Back then they'd listened carefully, sincerely, but neither understood why any of that needed to apply to them. Sage and Sloane will always love Basil - for all he is and for all they've learned from him - but personally, they could never envision any sort of future with anyone else. And that was fine.

But now Sloane has started to show a sliver of interest in Alana, and as for herself...well.

"Earth to Sage." Sage can barely hear Basil's soft, laughing voice over the clamor of her own thoughts. It sounds like heaven, now more than ever.

All through this little trip, Sage had taken care. Touches. Kisses. The nicknames they use only on each other. An admission like the one she's making today could be taken the wrong way...and never, never, not even in a million years - not even after they are dust particles and rusted metal beneath six feet of earth - would she want Basil to ever believe the impossible. That her love for him would stop.

She puts what remains of her ice cream sandwich down, and steals a glance at him. Crinkles of laughter around his eyes, a corner of his mouth tugged upwards. A corner she will always want to kiss.

So he does know. He does trust her.

"There's a picture of her from that trip," Sage says, biting back her own smile, "You wanna see?"

"Mmm," he puts a hand over hers. "but let's get home first."

The trip back to Nadia's friend's place takes fifteen minutes but feels like hours, and they both drop with a thud on the couch rather than actually sit.

Sage has to slide the lockscreen upwards to unlock her phone. They both share a secret smile: the picture on the lockscreen is a silhouette of two people kissing, against the backdrop of a moon so abnormally large and golden that you would assume it was photoshopped in, if you didn't know what supermoons were. Only they (and Sloane, who gleefully clicked this picture just minutes before Sage took a similar one of her and Basil) know that it was real, that it was taken last year, that it's them. In this cozy, slightly messy sitting room - much like the one they own at home - Basil's hand moves from the small of Sage's back to cup her shoulders, and his head leans against hers.

The picture she shows him doesn't seem like much: a young woman, long brown hair loosely tied back, her dusky skin taking on a golden glow from the light of the afternoon sun. She's still wearing her climbing gear, her helmet on the rock beside her, her smile both tired and full of mischief. It reminds Sage of the very first time she looked at the woman - windswept hair whipping around her face before she tied it up and put on her helmet - and fell head over heels in love.

Sage had felt the gut punch of that realization the minute their eyes met - knew it was love with a terrifying certainty that was at once not at all like the way she fell for Basil, but also exactly like that.

Basil studies Sage's face for longer than he looks at the picture, his smile soft and knowing. "What's her name?" he asks as she flips through her gallery in search of other pictures, lacing the fingers of her other hand with his own.

"Nilukshi," She finds what she's looking for - a picture of the both of them against the backdrop of a stage. Sage sitting over a crate strumming guitar, Nilukshi singing, her hands spread out and her feet apart, her face a portrait of pure joy. Even here, in this quiet, cozy living-room sofa, far from the chaos of that stage, Sage relives the moment she realized they were both auditioning for the same play, just two weeks after that excursion. How their eyes locked for several skips of a heartbeat once they were done. "Small scale production for Rent. We were jamming on Seasons of Love backstage."

He chuckles. "Five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes...how do you measure, measure a year." His voice is pitch perfect, as usual, and Sage has to bite back the urge to finish the verse with "Measure in love, sweet love". This is not the right time for an impromptu acapella.

But he turns serious a minute later, adjusts himself slightly to face Sage. His brows furrow in that way they do when he asks a question they both know will have answers that scare the shit out of you. "Does she know you're..."

"Yeah. I told her about Eros. It...didn't go as badly as I thought."

He sighs in relief. "Does she know about us?"

"Yep." It was funny how that was the harder conversation to have. Nilukshi's face had been studiously blank when Sage told her about her boyfriend, her hands shoved deep into her pockets. At least for the first five minutes. But the words "open relationship" loosened her up for some reason, and suddenly her gorgeous, long, artist's fingers were stretched out in front of her, eyes laser-focusing on them as if checking out her brand new manicure was the most important task in the world. Cool, she'd said, her voice almost squeaky, cool.

Basil's other hand lightly rubs her arm, encouraging Sage to sink into his embrace. "Did you only realise you wanted to date her now?"

She shakes her head, flushing. "I wanted to believe it was just a crush, not gonna lie. I just didn't think having my feelings returned was possible till now."

He frowns, almost like he's going to say it isn't like you to lack confidence in your charms, Sage. "Why not?"

Sage sighs, slowly inching forward and kissing a corner of his mouth. She looks down, training her gaze over their fingers tangled together.

It hasn't been easy, reliving the last five months of pining and awkwardness and just...the tendency to get ten times clumsier in Nilukshi's presence. Or reliving the last five months of tension and worry and (maybe misplaced) guilt, hoping against hope that she wasn't doing her relationship with Basil an injustice by getting even one step of this revelation wrong. But she'd still do it all over again - for him and for Nilu. For the two people who own her whole heart, the one that doesn't even physically exist in her body.

"Didn't think she'd be interested. Thought it would be a thing I'd tell myself to get over at some point. I'd have told you straightaway the moment I thought I stood a chance." Her eyes are darker and more shadowed as she raises them to meet his. "I did okay...didn't I?"

She feels the rumble of soft laughter from against her as he pulls her closer. "Oh honey. You did better than just okay." Sage sighs softly against his mouth as he draws her closer. "You were perfect."

His hands cup her face, his nose nudges softly against her own, making her giggle. The flavour of the ice cream they'd just shared half an hour ago lingers on his tongue. A bouquet of saffron and rose and clotted cream, coating her palate and making her feel like she is lying on a bed of flowers, sunlight streaming in rays of butter-yellow down her hair.

--

Two weeks later

Nilukshi is here before time at Brooklyn Bridge Park: binoculars, mat, amateur astronomy 101 booklet, backup garbage bags and snacks at hand. Chose tonight because of the new moon, she whispers excitedly. Even in the pitch dark, Sage can see her eyes light up as she approaches.

Comet Hasegawa is best seen in the early hours before dawn, where the sky is dark and unfettered by the thick veil of New York smog, preferably with no moonlight to obscure the intense glow of the stars. It was discovered only last month, by the Japanese scientist it was named after, and they have just this month to capture it in its full, emerald-green glory. This Saturday is the last time it will appear in the night sky. It'll take another 500 years for anyone on Earth to ever catch sight of it again.

Sage knows this because Sloane told her. Because Sage and Basil may have joined her in her backyard stargazing sessions, her trips to the planetarium, taken turns gazing into her humble home telescope just for the smile that lights up her face afterwards...but somewhere along the line they started to look forward to stargazing. Cherish it. Treasure it. It had become their thing.

Nilukshi had stared blankly at Sage the first time she'd yapped on and on about space - something stupidly jargon-y bullshit about Mercury's greatest elongation and seeing Jupiter at opposition. It got so embarrassingly obvious that she was confusing her crush that she'd apologized and backed away, whispering to herself since when did you become such a fucking nerd, Sage!

Nilukshi knows the basics. Orion. Meteor Showers. Total solar eclipses that make the sun look like an enlarged diamond ring; a nighttime sky at noon. She's the kind that would sit out even the major astronomical events because she's so used to city skylines veiled in smog. She, of all people, wouldn't have the time to squint at the night sky searching for constellations and planets.

And...and she set this up. Probably looked up this month's (maybe even this year's) calendar of astronomical events on Google, checked out amateur stargazing clubs, did her research, figured out the perfect timings, the perfect place, even the perfect gear. Chose a suitably dark night where they would need only binoculars. Sage has been through enough of these kinds of trips to know how much work goes into one like this.

And the way she sneaks glances at Sage, from underneath those impossibly long eyelashes of hers, you could tell that the success of every minute of this picnic will hinge on what Sage's own face gives away.

Nilukshi did this. For her. Dove headlong into this...this thing that she barely knew much about before they met, for her.

Goddamit. It should be criminal for that hum beneath her skin - the one that usually tells her that everything in her body is in tip-top shape - to keep running this...this normally. Not when her brain and her soul and her (mechanical) heart feel so out of whack.

Ignorant of the way Sage's thoughts are running riot, Nilukshi rummages through her backpack, not stopping until she takes out a ziplock bag filled with crispy, yellow, star-shaped snacks.

"Koki," her teeth gleam in the darkness. "Amma made these for me when she came over to visit last week."

Sage nods. She remembers Mrs Sigera from the first time she'd come with Nilukshi to the backstage area of the theatre, meeting the cast, clicking poloroids of them all on her cute pink FujiFilm. Sage can almost imagine Nilukshi's features maturing out to look exactly like her mother's when she reaches that age - warm brown skin with faint lines showing, fine crinkles around those wonderful brown eyes, streaks of grey peppering her dark wild hair. She shouldn't hunger for that sight the way she does now - the way she did when she first imagined Basil and Sloane and herself, rocking gently on armchairs, their wizened gnarled hands on her still-youthful ones, watching sunsets - but she does. She does. She wants all of those images to combine and become the truth of her future.

The rice cookies break apart in a satisfying crunch against her teeth, before dissolving into a sweet-savoury blend of coconut milk, and turmeric, with the slightest hint of red chili. The turmeric is perhaps the most prominent flavour - peppery and bright, slightly bitter and earthy and balanced out perfectly with a bit of sugar. If she were to guess, it's the turmeric that gives the koki its distinctive yellow glow, pretty much the way saffron stains Basil's favourite bastani this exact golden hue.

They sit together in a silence that feels both comforting and way too heavy, pretending to focus instead on the emerald glow of Comet Hasegawa, Earth's guest for only a few days before it disappears for another half-millennium. Sage points to the constellation of Leo it passes across; they both smile, recalling the surprise birthday party Dr Eckhart and her team threw, mid-August, for Nilukshi at their rock climbing gym. The comet looks like a streak of glow-in-the-dark phosphorus paint, brushed against the canvas of the sky.

Nilukshi has packed more food than that - maybe too much for this trip - but it's the kokis Sage keeps coming back to, their sweet-saltiness and that mild nuttiness that likely comes from the sesame seeds hidden beneath the surface. She eats slowly, conscious of Nilukshi's expectant gaze.

"Man," Sage whispers, "I could eat my body weight in these, they're so good. Don't tell your mom."

Nilukshi tears her gaze away from her, swallowing as she gazes again at the comet. "Amma only makes them for special people in our lives...and we don't have that many. She'd be pissed if I gave those kokis to anyone else..."

If Sage had any ability to think before she said that, it disappears completely when she hears what Nilukshi says next. "...if I didn't give them to the girl I've fallen so hard for." Fuck. Fuck. Holy shit. She'd been hoping and wishing and terrified of this moment and now it's... "The girl I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Nilukshi says the last one in a terrified whisper. She looks down now, at the grass. Her fingers tremble as they fiddle with a loose thread on the mat.

"Since when?" Sage can barely breathe.

"Since the minute Dr Eckhart dragged Greg Jones' arrogant, trip-sabotaging ass, and then someone let out a belly-laugh that made me think it was the sweetest sound I'd ever heard."

Slowly, swayingly, as if they're both in a dream, Sage inches herself towards her, whispering her name like it's a prayer. Balances herself on her knees, cupping her left cheek, making her look up so Sage can bask in the mixture of desire and fear in her eyes. Her fingers have combed through Nilukshi's hair often enough in her dreams that their softness against her fingertips feels like coming home. Sage feels Nilu's breaths turn shallow as she traces a line of kisses, from temple to jawline to corner of mouth, before covering lips thinner than her own. But the moment Sage's tongue brushes hers, Nilu sighs and almost sinks into her. As she is ready to be absorbed into the pores of Sage's skin, if that's what it takes to get closer.

On Nilukshi's tongue she tastes the creaminess of coconut milk and the slightest dusting of sugar, the light heat of the chili powder and the welcome, golden bitterness of turmeric. She tastes like heaven.

Sage can't bear to move away - even as their lips part - so she keeps her forehead against Nilukshi's and her hands buried in her hair.

"You too?" Nilukshi breathes.

"Goddamit, Nilu. Since the minute we met."

"What about..." Nilukshi flushes and looks away.

Sage understands perfectly, smiles softly at her. "Basil knows. He'd probably cuss me out if I didn't stop moping over you and actually do something about it. I bet he'll get along with your mom like a house on fire."

Nilukshi lets out a watery giggle, then gasps as they stop talking altogether. They kiss again, and again, and again, moaning as Nilukshi catches Sage's lower lip with her teeth, as Sage grabs fistfuls of her dress so she won't fall over.

In the sky above them, Comet Hasegawa is close to completing its journey across the constellation of Leo, ready to continue its path across the universe and out of the solar system. Neither Sage, nor Nilukshi, nor any of the people Sage has loved or will ever love in the future, will see such a sight again in their lifetime.

In their minds, that comet has already passed, already streaked its way through their orbit and faded in relevance. All that remains is starlight and quick gasps and hushed kisses and the taste of spicy-sweet kokis.

Tomorrow, Sage promises herself. She and Nilukshi will need to talk, once this afterglow has faded and they have to think about the reality of their situation.

This is a first for Nilukshi, just as the relationship with Basil had been a first for her. Like Sage, there are going to be things that will scare Nilu. And like Basil, Sage will need to take on the lead a bit. Will need to ask the right questions, say the right words to reassure her, read her body language and listen to her voice and understand at least a little of what Nilukshi's boundaries are. Will need to ease her into the realization that as long as they're honest, as long as they trust each other...this will be okay. They will be okay.

Sage breathes in the smell of fresh grass and rice-coconut cookies, smiles at the stray thought of Basil looking at her, with that proud grin, raising his mug of coffee to her like he's making a toast. Baby, you did perfect.

Tomorrow, Sage promises herself, as the comet they came to watch slowly inches its way, half-seen, out of their orbit. There will be other starlit nights, other fantastic things to see and experience together. They will have so much of tomorrow left to savour.

For tonight, the kisses they share will be magic enough.

--

References:

Basil is my polyam MC, and he dates everyone in the group. Sloane and Sage, too, wind up having other relationships and the three of them live together in the current timeline of this fic. Sage is the Adventurer Hayden (Mysterious, Rebellious, Humourous and Impulsive) but she sometimes showcases opposing traits due to the Double Ripple Effect.

Mashti Malone - A Persian ice cream shop, v popular in LA. I used this video about them as a reference

Bastani - Iranian ice cream which is golden and made with saffron, rosewater and pistachios. Bastani Sonnati is the same, sandwiched between wafers.

Faludeh - A traditional Iranian cold dessert similar to a sorbet. It consists of thin vermicelli-sized noodles made from starch in a semi-frozen syrup containing sugar and rose water.

Koki - An all-time favorite Sri Lankan deep-fried snack made specially during festivals such as Sinhalese and Tamil new year, weddings, and ceremonies. The basic Kokis batter is made of rice flour, salt, turmeric powder, and coconut milk.

Sage's lockscreen in this fic (of Basil and Sage's silhouettes against a supermoon), is a reference to the next fic I'm writing, Harvest Moon

Yes the Dr Eckhart I mention here as the rock climbing professional trainer is Madison from The Freshman. I HC that she went on to do her PhD in Volcanology and runs adventurer courses. 😄

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW, and @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 for Day 14: Poloroid Picture/Clicking special photos of S/O(s) and @choicespride for Bisexual Awareness Week

Tagging @haydenyoungappreciationweek and @sazanes for HYAW 2023 for Day 2: Relationships

[karahalloway]

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper gets a surprise visit from Christian... but are his intentions sincere?

Word Count: 2,800 (short for me, I know enjoy it while you can 😆)

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)

Chapter theme song:

A/N: I know it's been more than a hot minute since I've updated this series! 😅 This is in part because I got sidetracked by Sleepless in New York also on my list to finish, I know, and then I took most of the summer off from writing. But also in part because I kinda got stuck on how to actually continue with this series... but, I now have a plan! *rubs hands together gleefully* and you ain't gonna like it, sorry, not sorry. So, with this long-awaited installment, I hope to be back in my usual groove and will be posting with some semblance of regularity again. Thanks so much for bearing with me!

A/N2: This is also my submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25 Prompt - Secret, Surprise I’m only 2 days late

Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation

Making my way back to my room, I try to push down the conflicting emotions that are roiling inside of me.

On one hand, I get where Drake is coming from, and why he shut the door in my face. We are no longer alone in Applewood and even the faintest whiff of impropriety could implode the carefully strategised work that the royal PR team has put in to try and resuscitate my public image.

And me getting caught outside of the room of a guy who not only was not Christian, but who I had no justifiable reason for seeking out at the butt-crack of dawn in the first place, would definitely scupper the assertion that I'm not a two-timing hussy. Especially since I rushed out of my room earlier wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and panties.

Mitigating factors, they were not.

But while the rational part of my brain knows that Drake is only trying to look out for me, I can't help but feel a pang of dejection at abruptness with which he — very literally — shut me out, even though he promised yesterday that he wouldn't do something like that to me again.

Because God knows that it had been hard enough to get him to open up the first time!

And even though I'm not expecting him to have completely reversed his habitudes overnight, I guess I'd been hoping that our conversation in the barn would've prompted some kind of step in the desired direction.

Because it's clear that the bruises on my neck unnerved him. The turmoil on his face had made that clear. As the marks were not just some haphazard side-effect of our frantic love-making. They were a very real and visible reminder of the tangible strength of his feelings — and the fact that he'd lost control of them.

And as much as I understand the knee-jerk cause of his reaction, the last thing I want — or need — right now is for Drake to distance himself from me because he's scared of hurting me again.

That, I could not cope with.

"Demoiselle," nods Allard as I arrive back at my room.

I flash him a distracted smile on auto-pilot. He saw and heard what happened. There is no point rehashing anything. Especially since this isn't something he or Schweitzer can help with.

The weight of my Guard's concerned gaze flick over me as I shuffle past, but they both remain silent, no doubt sensing that I'm not in the mood for conversation.

Shutting the door behind me, I close my eyes as I lean back against the solidness of the wood.

Why are things never simple 'round here?

I really wish Drake and I could've taken a moment to talk things through. Because today's Apple Harvest Festival is expected to see hundreds of people descend onto Applewood to not only celebrate this year's bountiful crop of Cordonian Rubies, but to also catch a glimpse of the new King and his future Queen.

And if I thought that cornering Drake had been hard at the apple pick, the chances of being able to do so today are going to be slim to none.

But the rest of the week doesn't offer any better options because tomorrow we're off to Italy, where we'll likely have even less opportunity for privacy given the high-profile and international nature of the coming engagements.

My eyes snap open. I have to talk to him now.

As much as Drake may be concerned about protecting what's left of my image, I'm not going to let him use the inconvenience of our circumstances as an excuse to hide behind his insecurities or erect walls between us. Because the hard truth is that there's never going to be a good time to talk unless we make that time.

Which is exactly what I am going to do, possible scandal be damned. I cannot let a tenuous fear borne out of a possible public backlash curtail my actions. My relationship with Drake is worth infinitely more to me than whatever garbage the paps may decide to print because some aristo decided to tattle on me if I get caught sneaking back into his room.

Because, let's face it. Even if I do end up on the front pages tomorrow (for all the wrong reasons), the fact of the matter is that any photo, any situation — no matter how sordid or innocent — can be spun any which way.

I've learnt that the hard way. So, I may as well use it to my own advantage for once.

Pushing myself away from the door, I march into my walk-in closet with renewed determination. Pulling the t-shirt that I'd slept in over my head, I quickly throw on a bra, some jean shorts and a black tank top.

Slotting my bare feet into my well-worn Sketchers, I make my way over to the French doors that lead out onto balcony so I can try to figure out the best way to scamper over to Drake's room without killing myself, given that I stood a better chance of slipping under the aristo's nosy radar via the balcony than going back through the corridor.

Hopefully, I can—

Tap, tap tap.

I stop mid-stride at the sound of knocking coming from the other side of my door.

Turning around, I contemplate whether I should respond, or pretend that I hadn't heard.

I have precious little time if I want to be able to catch Drake before he disappears on me to do... whatever it is that he does in the mornings before the start of a royal event.

So, if I want to make it to his room, I need to go now before he finishes getting dressed.

But, then again, there is only a very small number of people at court who'd come directly to my room to talk to me. Especially at this time in the morning.

So, it could be important. It could be about Tariq...

...it could be Drake.

The latch clicks open.

I glance anxiously back towards the balcony, trying to decide if I should—

"May I come in?"

I whirl around in surprise at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"

He pokes his head 'round the door. "I... I didn't catch you in a state of undress, did I?"

"No! No... I was already dressed," I admit, trying to be as casual as possible as I quickly brush my hair over my shoulders in a haphazard attempt to try and cover up the bruises, given that I hadn't thought to slather any cover-up over myself yet.

Christian definitely didn't need to be asking questions about those!

"Ah, good!" he responds, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. "You're an early riser, like myself."

"You can thank the Beaumonts," I mutter under my breath, glancing guiltily back toward the balcony.

So much for stealing a much-needed moment with Drake...

"I apologise for the intrusion," Christian continues, crossing the space between us, "especially at such an early hour. But I was hoping to catch you alone before the start of the Apple Harvest Festival."

One word catches my attention. "A-Alone...?"

He comes to a stop in front of me. "Very much so."

Anxiety flares in the pit of my stomach as Drake's words from yesterday swirl through my mind.

...he's trying to win you back.

And it suddenly hits me that I haven't been alone — truly alone — with Christian since the day of the Jamboree. When he took me into the hedge maze and offered me a duchy.

My mind starts to whirl.

Had that been the start of this... crusade? The fact that I turned him down? Does he still think he can change my mind? Is he simply incapable of accepting 'no' as an answer?

I force my gaze up to meet his.

His emerald green eyes behold me calmly, with maybe a hint of excitement. But I cannot read his intention.

"Wh-why?" I finally blurt out.

A smile spreads across his face. "To bestow upon you your letters patent, of course!"

I gape at him. "My letters of what?"

He chuckles good-naturedly at my evident confusion. "Letters patent. Itis a type of royal decree that formally confers some manner of privilege onto the names designee — an office of state, a coat of arms, a commercial monopoly... or, in this case, your new title as Duchess of Valtoria."

With a flourish, he pulls out a small, leather-bound box that he's been hiding behind his back.

I stare at it mutely.

"It won't bite, I promise," he assures me wryly.

Reaching up with a tepid smile, I accept the box, which is a lot heavier than it looks.

Opening it up, I find a medieval-looking document nestled in the lid, complete with densely-packed Chancery script and and a historiated initial C embossed with the stylised image of the Cordonian royal crest.

Peering at the text — which I can only assume is an archaic form of French — I can just about make out the odd word, like my name, Christian's name, and Valtoria. But the rest remains completely incomprehensible.

Presumably some grand declarations about the bestowal...

In the bottom part of the box rests a cream-coloured envelope also bearing the Cordonian royal crest, along with my name, though this time written in delicate cursive lettering.

"What's this?" I ask Christian, lifting the letter up.

"Your papers of naturalisation," he informs me. "Along with your new passport and ID card."

I glance up at him in surprise. "I am now a Cordonian citizen?"

"It would not have been possible to issue the letters patent otherwise," he says. "Even a king must abide by the diktats of the law."

"I... don't need to sign anything?"

"The US Consulate was very accommodating, given the unique nature of the circumstances."

My stomach twists unexpectedly. "Oh..."

Dual citizenship is a good thing, right?

Returning my attention to the box, I see that the envelope has been concealing a large, intricate-looking seal bearing what appears to be the stylised outline of a rampant phoenix, next to which sits a signet ring with the same image.

"Does it meet expectations?" asks Christian.

"I'm not sure I know what I'd been expecting..." I admit, running a finger over the lines of the mythical bird, marvelling at the level of detail that's been put into creating such a realistic rendering, complete with individual licks of flame spouting from the tail feathers.

"Any egregious spelling errors?"

"Not that I can see," I admit, glancing up at him. "But—"

"Excellent!" he declares, reaching over the lid of the box to deftly pluck the signet ring out from its nest of blue silk.

Before I have a chance to react, he's clasped my hand in his to poise the heavy circlet of gold at the tip of my ring finger.

"Wait!" I gasp in the face of the unexpectedly intimate turn of events. "What are you—?"

"It would be remiss of me if I did not verify the correctness of the sizing," he advises, meeting my panicked gaze calmly.

"You don't need t—"

"It would be my pleasure," he insists, slipping the ring onto the digit before I can protest further.

As he withdraws his hand, my eyes fall onto the spot where the cool metal's unfamiliar weight now encircles the base of my finger.

"Perfect," Christian declares with a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb over the phoenix insignia.

I stare at the band with an uneasily mix of feelings swirling in my chest. "Christian, I—"

"Let's celebrate, shall we?" he announces, pulling back to click his fingers with a decisive snap.

On cue, the door behind Christian swings open to admit a veritable procession of servants bearing ice buckets, champagne, crystal flutes and tiny servings of finger food.

"Wait..." I stammer in the face of organised onslaught. "They were waiting outside this whole time?"

"I may have take a page out of your party planning book," he admits with a grin while the industrious staff set about transforming my bedroom into a first-class tea room. "Seeing the success you had with Drake on his birthday, I thought I would try my hand at surprising you on this important day."

"And that's great, but I never agreed—"

"Didn't you?" Christian asks with a level look as he nabs a miniature scone from the tray of a passing server.

I shake my head. "No, I—"

"Because I specifically recall you giving your unambiguous consent at yesterday's apple pick to proceed with finalising your new status," he states, taking a bite out of the pastry.

I open my mouth, but promptly shut it as the conversation from the orchard floats back into my consciousness.

"...having the paperwork squared away before our departure would grant significant boon for your image."

"Oh. Okay..."

"Oh, fuck..." I mutter as the cold hand of hindsight clamps down on the nape of my neck.

Christian had obviously mischaracterised my somewhat dazed reaction as some kind of express agreement.

And since Drake's appearance yesterday had interrupted the conversation at that key moment, I never had a chance to correct the misunderstanding.

But I need to. Because once again, Christian has taken matters into his own hands and acted without my express consent. Just like he had done when he'd decided to send me away during the Coronation Ball, only to then bring me back to court as his mistress, not to mention spring an actual duchy on me without any prior warning.

And while his heart's probably been in the right place each and every time, I'm not sure that I can cope with any more bolts from the blue.

Especially when they so drastically upend my life.

Heaving a breath, I look back up at the King of Cordonia again. "Look, Christian, I really appreciate all of this, but I think there's been a major—"

The loud bang! of the champagne bottle shooting its cork across the room makes me jump.

Turning around, I can see that the gold-coloured liquid is already in the process of being dispensed into a pair of waiting crystal flutes.

"I hope you like this Moët & Chandon Imperial Vintage 1946 that I had picked out," Christian murmurs, brushing a hand over the small of my back. "It is an exceptional cuvée with notes of citrus, apple and pear — an apt combination, I thought, given the occasion."

"Because of the pear trees in Valtoria..." I surmise heavily, watching a footman bring over a pair of freshly-filled champagne flutes with a foreboding note of finality.

"Exactly," confirms Christian, grabbing a glass from the tray. "A beautifully complimentary pairing. One that hope we can both enjoy for many years to come."

"Yes, but—"

"Let's toast, shall we?" prompts Christian, cutting me off yet again as the footman proffers me the other serving of expensive bubbly.

I stare at it like a poison pill.

This is what Drake had warned me about, isn't it? That Christian would seek to manoeuvre me into a corner like a chess piece... By giving with one hand, only to take with the other when the time came for the chips to fall due. Because what better way to create an unimpeachable sense of obligation than by making me into a duchess? A literal vassal to the Crown? Required to do the King's bidding, no matter the cost?

And if that really is his aim, then he has certainly been succeeding.

But at the same time, I am not sure I can trust my assessment. Christian has given no indication, one way or another, as to where his goals lay. And even if the misunderstanding had been genuine, to turn him down now would not only be inexplicably rude, but maybe also dangerous?

Would I be jeopardising Christian's support in the hunt for Tariq and quest to set the record straight if I offend him by throwing all his heartfelt effort back  in his face? Especially when I don't know for certain what Christian's motives were?

Because what if Drake is wrong? What if there is no hidden agenda and I'm just massively overthinking this entire thing because I've been burned once already and now everyone looks suspect... Even — and especially — when I'm being offered help?

"Harper?" queries Christian. "Everything alright?"

I shake myself out of my stupor and grab the crystal flute. "I'm fine. Just... Trying to come to grips with it all."

"There will be plenty of time for that," he assures me with a grin, raising his glass. "To the new Duchess of Valtoria!"

I clink the delicate crystal in my hand against his with a leaden feeling in my stomach.

There's no going back now...

For better or for worse, I have just become Lady Harper Gale.

The story continues in Chapter 16 (Coming soon!)

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[storyofmychoices]

Love is love is love!

I can't thank the loveliest coffeesforchloe on Instagram for this stunning art of my ot3! Daenarya is one happy and lucky lady to be caught between two people she loves most!

For @choicespride and @choicesficwriterscreations Bisexual Awareness Week 💖💜💙

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 1 + Beyond] [Mal’s Orphanage] [Mal Volari x Daenarya Blades 2 AU]

Look at how cute they even look in the sketch version!!!

[storyofmychoices]

@choicesseptemberchallenge2023 love, kiss

[jerzwriter]

Celebrate

Thank you to @brycesgirl for the suggestion: Ethan, Kaycee, celebration from this ask. (I don't know litg, so I hope this works!) As always, I ignored the 100-word thing, but it's under 1,000 and that's huge for me! lol I hope you enjoy it.

Book: Open Heart (Post-Series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Featuring: Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: 869 Summary: Ethan isn't happy when Tobias announces he's leaving on a WHO mission. Kaycee humorously helps him understand why while getting a little payback to boot. In the end, is there anything to celebrate? A/N: Participating in @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 22 Friendship

“Oh, these are perfect!” Kaycee beamed as the balloon bouquet was delivered to the diagnostic team’s office. “He’ll love this!”

Ethan looked up from behind his desk and grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Ignoring his lack of enthusiasm, Kaycee continued arranging decorations.

“You know, if you start feigning the slightest bit of excitement now, Tobias might actually believe you’re being supportive when he arrives.”

“You’re wrong,” Ethan deadpanned. “If anyone could see right through me, it would be him.”

Noting Kaycee’s raised eyebrow, he quickly corrected himself. “Next to you, of course... dear.”

“Fair attempt at a save,” she grinned. “I don’t understand why you aren’t happy for him. Being selected for this mission is a big honor and a phenomenal opportunity... not just for him, but for the team and Edenbrook, too. The positive media coverage alone has been helpful, and he hasn’t even left yet.”

“Mmmm,” he replied, barely paying attention.

“Oh, I see,” she replied sarcastically. “We’re only supposed to be enthusiastic about WHO missions if the person is using the trip because they’re too much of a wuss to face the feelings they’re developing for the love of their life. I understand now.”

It worked. She had his attention.

“Wait... what? That’s not the only reason I went on that mission!”

“Only,” she smiled triumphantly. “So, are you finally admitting that was one of the reasons?”

He could argue and try to make his point, but he merely smiled with a shake of his head.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Hey, I accepted your proposal twice,” she winked. “I’ve obviously let it go, but I will be ribbing you for the rest of your life, so...”

“Fair enough,” he grinned.

“But Ethan, honestly, why aren’t you being more supportive of Tobias? He’ll never admit it, but it would mean so much to him.”

“Because it’s six months. That is too long to be away from the team.”

“Says who? Harper and Baz both agreed to pick up cases, and we have the new fellow beginning next month. We will be more than able to handle our caseload. Otherwise, administration wouldn’t have approved this.”

“So we have to bring a new fellow up to speed down one permanent member?”

“Dr. Ramsey, are you saying we can’t survive without Dr. Carrick?”

“What! No! Of course not!”

“Then what are you saying, my love?”

He didn’t appreciate the condescending tone, no matter how adorable she looked delivering it. But that wasn’t what was eating at him; it was his inability to come up with an answer as to what had been nagging at him ever since Tobias made his announcement.

“It’s OK, you know,” she whispered.

“What is?”

“To admit that you’re doing to miss him.”

“I did not say I’m going to miss him!”

“Of course you will!” Kaycee insisted. “There aren’t that many people who find your curmudgeonly demeanor endearing, and now one of them will be on the other side of the world for half a year... just when you’ve gotten used to having a buddy to watch Red Sox games with again.”

Ethan inhaled deeply as he leaned back, acceptance reluctantly settling in.

“I suppose I will miss the ass.”

“See!” Casey beamed. “It kind of sucks when someone you care about just takes off on a WHO mission. Of course, Tobias told us about his, but...”

“Are you finished?” Ethan interrupted.

Happy to know she hit her mark, Kaycee sat on Ethan’s lap in a fit of giggles.

“I am,” she replied with a quick peck on his cheek. “It’s OK, baby. I already talked to Bryce. He promised to make some time for you while Tobias is away.”

“You what?”

“Hush, hon. It didn’t cost me that much; you can thank me later. For now, I need you to help me set up the room. Breakfast will be arriving any minute, and I want everything to be set up before Tobias arrives.”

“Too late for that,” a voice chimed from the door.

“Tobias!” Kaycee yelled. “Why the hell are you early! I wanted this to be a surprise celebration!”

“Oh, it’s a surprise, all right,” he jeered as Ethan sighed uncomfortably.

“How much of that conversation did you hear?”

“Enough,” Tobias grinned. “Admit it, man... you love me.”

“I’ll admit no such thing!”

“Ethan....” Tobias chided, when Kaycee stepped in.

“Tobias, really? It took him how long to admit he loves me, and I do some things for him that you just... don’t.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ethan spat as two of the people most dear to him chuckled at his expense.

“It’s OK,” Tobias said with a pat on his friend’s shoulder. “I know the truth now. So, you need help with the decorations?”

“For your celebration?” Kaycee mocked.

“Hey, if he’s not gonna help.”

Ethan stood up with a huff. “Sit down and shut up, Carrick. I’ve got this.”

Tobias quickly claimed Ethan’s seat, placing his feet up on his desk. “Man, I’m feeling the love.”

“I didn’t really plan for this,” Kaycee laughed, pointing to Ethan decorating as Tobias hogged up his seat.

“Gotta give it to you, kid,” Tobias grinned. “You really know how to celebrate.”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[jerzwriter]

Know it All

Thank you to @mydemonsdrivealimo for this ask. By now we know that me and 100-words can't go in the same sentence, but it's still short for me :)

Book: Open Heart (Book 2 timeline) Characters: Bryce Lahela, Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 921 Summary: Casey needs the scoop on someone, and she knows exactly who to go to. A/N: Participating in @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25, Secret

Being a resident was tough. The hours were grueling, and making a mistake didn’t merely get you into trouble or cost you a promotion; it was the definition of life or death. The stress could be overwhelming, but luckily, Casey heeded Dr. Delarosa's advice and built strong friendships with her fellow residents. It made perfect sense; seeing people outside of work was almost impossible. She was learning that the hard way since she met an intriguing doctor from Mass Kenmore a few weeks before. An intriguing doctor whose schedule never matched up with hers. 

Fortunately, Bryce's schedule did, and she was meeting him in the cafeteria for lunch. While her stomach was grumbling, if she had to choose between nourishment or feeding her curiosity, the latter would win today. She needed the lowdown, and who better to go to than her best buddy, Bryce.

"Boo!" Bryce smiled as he attempted to frighten her from behind.

"Nice try, Lahela."

Bryce tossed a protein bar her way and watched Casey’s face fall.

"Is this what you meant when you said you were treating me to lunch today?"

"Nope," he said, biting into his bar. "But have you seen the line for the registers? We can either have these delightfully chalky fake chocolate bars and conversation, or we can spend our entire break on that line and not talk at all."

"You know, this doesn't taste so bad," she smiled.   

"That’s the right answer!” Bryce grinned. “Given the choice of a quality meal or my company, I believe my company is always the way to go.”

“Well, it works today,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Because I need to use you.”

“Casey,” he sighed dramatically. “I understand the longing, I do... but you know damn well we decided not to let our relationship go there.”

She shook her head without expression. “You know, you are such an ass! I’m not interested in ‘going there’ with you... but there is someone else that I might be....”

Bryce eagerly leaned over the table, his attention piqued. “Who? Who is it? Do I know them? Is it the hot new nurse in the ICU? Because I have it on good counsel that she has the hots for you.”

“Really? Well, that might be a good backup plan,” Casey giggled. “But that’s not who I’m talking about.”

She turned around to survey the room. Once confident no one was in earshot, she leaned in and lowered her voice to a whisper.

“What do you know about Tobias Carrick from Kenmore.”

Bryce leaned back in his chair, a look bordering on disappointment registered on his face. “Carrick?” he said, a bit too loud as Casey shushed him.

“Yes, what do you know about him.”

“All right, first, thank you for recognizing that my knowledge base extends to all hospitals in this city, not just Edenbrook.”

“Can we stick to the point?”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “I guess my question is... how do you intend to utilize him? Because if you’re looking for a couple of memorable nights that you’ll be bragging about into your nursing home years, Carrick’s your man. But if you’re looking for more than that, and you usually end up wanting more than that... well, in that case, I’d be happy to introduce you to Amira in ICU.”   

He could tell at once that wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear.

“Is he that bad?” She asked. “I mean, I’ve heard he’s not exactly Mr. Commitment...”

“Understatement of the millennium,” Bryce interrupted.

“... BUT... Oh, Bryce, the man is super hot, and I really like him. He’s been nothing but attentive and sweet to me since we met.”

“Have you slept with him yet?”

“No....”

Bryce raised his hands in triumph. “I rest my case. Look, anyone who's not a straight man will tell you he is hot, and if you want to have fun, have fun. But I watched you go through entirely too much after the shit with he-who-we-will-not-name-while-at-work went down... and I don’t want to see you hurt like that again.”

They both looked at Casey’s phone as it vibrated on the table and now it was Bryce's turn to roll his eyes. Once he saw the stupid grin on his friend’s face, he knew two things:  the text was from Carrick, and Casey was already in much deeper than she was willing to admit.

“That him?” he asked for effect.

Casey pocketed her phone with a smirk. “Shut up.”

“Look,” he replied sincerely. “I haven’t heard that he’s a bad guy, just that he’s only interested in one thing. But a few of my buddies from the volleyball team know him well. I can weasel some information out of them if you like.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Oh!” he clapped his hands in excitement. “Better yet! I know his housekeeper's daughter! Jackpot! Who better to get dirt from,” he winked. “I’ll put in a call today.”

“How the hell do you know his housekeeper’s daughter?”

“She’s my florist.”

Casey closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

“And how do you know that your florist’s mother is Tobias’s housekeeper?”

“Casey,” he smiled smugly. “I know everything.”

His pager went off, and he jumped up from his chair.

“That’s Tanaka. Look, I’ve gotta run, but I’ll have a dossier about the guy ready for you by the end of tomorrow.”

“If surgery doesn’t work out for you, you might have a future in espionage.”

“The Hawaaiin James Bond,” he grinned. “I like it.”

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Other tags on reblog.

[potionsprefect]

Bookcase Corner

Victoria has a new spot in the house

For @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 “library”

Both Victoria and Ethan are evenly matched in the medical world lol

Tag list: @ohchoices @swiftiexstarwarssimp @queencarb @genevievemd @choicesaddict5 @schnitzelbutterfingers @gryffindordaughterofathena @sophxwithers @romewritingshop @coffeeheartaddict2 @mm2305 @nikki-2406 @maurine07 @nishas-paradise @replayfootsteps @mainstreetreader @lsvdw-blog @kiara-36 @quixoticdreamer16 @udishaman @headoverheelsforramsey @shanzay44 @itsjustamesshonestly @josiesopenheart @mysticalgalaxysstuff @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @kachrisberry @rookiemartin @jamespotterthefirst @a-crepusculo @natureblooms24 @jerzwriter @wanderingamongthewildflowers @rosebudde @lucy-268 @liaromancewriter @bex-la-get @writer-ish @toadfrog26 @tessa-liam @peonierose @cariantha @kyra75

[tessa-liam]

Smoke and Mirrors

9-Hidden in Plain Sight 

Book: The Royal Romance Finale, AU

Series Premise: Hidden in the shadows, poised to challenge the status quo are enemies of the state. The loyalties and honesty of family and friends will be tested. ‘Keep your friends close, your enemies closer’. 

Smoke and Mirrors Masterlist 

Main Pairing: Liam Rys x F!MC Riley Brooks-Rys, OTP ‘LiRi’ 

2nd Pairings: Leo Rys x Amalas, Drake Walker x F!OC Delaney Leigh, Olivia Nevrakis x M!OC Alex Cossoy 

*Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

*Not Beta’d, please excuse all errors 

Rating: M🔞*Series Warnings:  NSFW material, sexual innuendo, adult language/swearing/drinking/gun violence. Not recommended for anyone under 18 years of age. 

Category: Alternate Universe/on-going series/angst/fluff 

Words: 2394 

Chapter Summary: It’s the evening of the Celebration Ball and the big reveal of the Royal twins. Lena is interrogated by Interpol. Liam and Leo discuss a potential threat to the kingdom. 

Smoke and Mirrors

9- Hidden in Plain Sight 

Music Inspiration: Sway, Michael Buble; Claire De Lune, London Symphony Orchestra; Late Night Talking, Harry Styles 

A/N2: My submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023, @midnightmelodiz , Day 6 – Dreams, Day dream, “I’m in love with you?” 

A/N1: My submission for @choicesflashfics @jerzwriter Week #49, Prompt 1- “You take my breath away every time I see you.” 

The King’s chamber was illuminated only by the soft light of the full moon where the King and Queen lay together. Riley was fast asleep, her head resting on Liam’s chest, her very pregnant belly snuggled safely against his side. Liam looked over at his sleeping wife, his heart swelling with love for her and their sons. In three short weeks, his family will grow to five; that time coming very quickly now.

Cordonian Royal Palace

He lay awake; sleep eluding him again for another night. Mentally organizing his schedule for the upcoming month, his thoughts eventually returned to that conversation with Drake that they had on the beach the day before. His confession...

‘Watching you with Brooks, all these years... I want that too.’ 

‘Pretending to be happy is pretty damn exhausting.’ 

Sighing, Liam was pleasantly surprised when he heard a soft voice. 

No one else would have caught it, but Liam did. He ‘read between the lines’ of what Drake had said, like he was remembering a bad dream. Did Drake just admit that he still had feelings for his wife? Were those feelings that he had years ago still present and relevant to him? 

“How long have you been awake?” Riley whispered. 

He kissed her forehead and placed his hand on her baby bump. Stroking her belly, he could feel the soft kicks under his palm.

“Not long, love” he murmerred.

“What are you thinking about?” Liam hesitated before answering. 

Riley turning her head to look up at him, “you think too much sometimes.” 

“A conversation that I had. I am not quite sure if it was real or if it was a daydream.” Liam kept his answer opaque on purpose, not wanting to divulge too much detail to her. 

Liam chuckled, “Are you complaining?” 

“Never,” she replied, yawning. “I love you,” she added sleepily. 

His body relaxed, as he closed his eyes, “I love you more.” he murmured, tightening his arm around her protectively. 

Cordonian Palace Ballroom 

The Ballroom was filled with guests awaiting the King’s announcement scheduled for later in the evening. 

Royalty from neighboring kingdoms, nobility, politicians, and ambassadors from allied countries came from long and short distances to partake in the black-tie festivities. Music filled the air as waitstaff circulated amongst the crowd with glasses of wine and flutes of champagne. 

“I’m glad you decided to attend this event with me,” Olivia said smiling at Alex. 

“I must be honest with you, Livvie. I usually attend these functions as the enforcer. I am not used to wearing a ‘monkey suit’,” Alex smirked. He seemed to be comfortable among all the guests, nonetheless. 

Olivia grinned back at her partner, but her smile quickly faded when she spotted Amalas and Leo huddled together on the other side of the dance floor. They appeared to be deep in conversation and were not paying any attention to their surroundings.  

Alex noticed Olivia’s expression change. “Everything okay?” he asked with concern. She nodded, trying to force the smile back onto her lips. 

“I thought that Leo was coming on his own tonight.” 

“Liv, that doesn’t mean that he can't talk to anyone once he gets here,” Alex rebutted. Olivia sighed loudly and continued to watch the couple from afar. 

A waiter approached, carrying a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Alex accepted a small sampling as Olivia continued to study the couple without saying another word. Alex shook his head; he knew what was bothering her.   He also wished, he was mistaken.

As the orchestra began to play the first few notes of the Cordonian national anthem, the press began to gather around the dais waiting for the King to enter the ballroom. 

The King’s guard fell into strategic positions when the herald announced the arrival of the Royal family. 

Liam strode up to the lectern that was atop the dais wearing his full military regalia. Riley, walking with Eleanor, joined him and stood next to his side. Regina and Leo stood close by next to the dais. 

The crowd hushed in anticipation. Clearing his throat once before speaking, Liam began, “Good evening, everyone,” he proclaimed. 

“It is my pleasure and honor to welcome you all here tonight. I know many have been waiting patiently for the queen and I to make an official announcement concerning our ‘additions’ to the Royal family.”  Liam turned to wink at Riley.

The ballroom attendees erupted in whoops and cheers. 

Liam acknowledged his delighted guests with a broad smile and waited a few minutes for the accolades to subside. Continuing with, “thank you, thank you!” 

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am delighted to have my princess here to help me....” Liam turned and beamed, chuckling as Ellie clapped her hands with a peal of laughter as her uncle Leo scooped her up and joined his brother. 

“Well, Ellie, what do you think?” Leo asked, smirking at Liam. 

“Daddy, look.” Ellie exclaimed and pointed to a bevy of blue balloons filled with helium that were being released behind the crowd overtop the dance floor. 

“Everyone, our twin boys, our princes, are expected to arrive at the end of this month.” Liam lifted Riley’s hand tenderly to kiss. 

Riley joined Liam as he took her hands and led her to stand beside him at the lectern.  

Thrilled at the excitement, Liam continued once the audience returned their attention back to him.

Liam waited for the crowd to settle down after the announcement. 

The applause was deafening as everyone celebrated. 

After posing for pictures by the press, Liam led Riley to the dance floor as the orchestra began to play the beginning notes of ‘Clair de Lune’. As they danced, it felt like time stood still; as guests formed a circle around them, Liam kissed Riley’s hand and placed it atop his chest over his heart as they swayed together in time to the music.  

“It must have something to do with the love of my life in my arms,” Liam simpered. 

“How is it, that.... Liam,” as she smoothed down his lapels, “you take my breath away every time I see you.” 

“Always the charmer, Your Majesty." Riley whispered, kissing his lips sweetly. 

*** 

Drake held Delaney close to his chest as they watched the King and Queen move together in the center of the dance floor. 

“They look so perfect together,” Delaney sighed. Her voice was laced with envy. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll find someone special someday.” Drake answered sarcastically. 

Delaney laughed. “That’s so easy for you to say.” Slapping his arm.

Drake grinned, “you'are damn straight, Leigh. When I first met you, I had no idea what my future would hold. You showed me things that I had only dreamed of having with someone. … and I have treasured every minute of your love.”  

 Growling, he leaned over and kissed her fiercely on the lips. Just as Riley and Liam walked past them. Delaney noticed the look on Drake’s face when he locked eyes with Riley. It gave her an uneasy feeling. He seemed to be lost in thought.  

Smiling playfully at him, Delaney asked in jest, “I’m in love with you too?"  

She frowned. “Something wrong?” 

His eyes shifted away from Riley, and he shook his head. 

“No, nothing at all.”  

But he didn’t fool her. Delaney, now was positive that her concerns were justified, stepped back. 

“Good evening, you two.” Riley beamed as she turned towards Delaney and Drake.  

“You two are getting married! Congratulations...I am so happy for you both.” Riley put her arm around her shoulder for a side hug.

“Thank you so much,” Delaney replied, hugging Riley in return. 

“Yes, congratulations you two,” Liam reached over to kiss Delaney’s cheek. 

“I am impressed, Walker.” Riley snickered as she hugged her friend.  

“Wow, settling down and saying goodbye to the bachelor life.” Liam smirked, shaking Drake's hand.

“Who would have thought,” Riley chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah, Brooks, get your shots in now.” Drake responded, not making eye contact. 

Interrogation Room A, Interpol Headquarters, Lyon, France 

Lena sat back on her chair with her hands folded in her lap. She was flanked by two men in dark suits. One of the men was a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair. His name was detective Lefebvre, and he had been assigned by Inspector Ryerson to investigate her case. The other man was the head of Psychiatrics and was assigned to conduct an evaluation of her psychological state by King Liam Rys of Cordonia. 

Across the table, sat Lena’s legal defense attorney, assigned to represent her by the Royal estate of Vallenheim. 

Detective Lefebvre cleared his throat. 

“Miss Runarsdottir, I understand you are familiar with the Cordonian Royal family?” 

Lena nodded. “Yes, I have met King Constantine Rys, my father. My stepmother, Queen Sigrid, raised me when my mother Eleanor Rys was murdered. I know of but never met my brother Liam or my stepbrother Leo.” 

“And what do you know about them?” he asked. 

Lena’s mouth went dry. She felt like she was trapped in a nightmare. 

“I don’t have any other information about them,” she lied. 

“Do you mean to tell me that you knew nothing about your brothers even though you were caught outside the buildings they were in this past summer?” 

Lena stared at him unflinching. 

“How did you know where to go?” he asked again. 

“I’m sorry, I can't help you.”  

Lefebvre slammed his fist against the table, making Lena jump in surprise. 

“Don't play with me. You’re either lying or delusional.” 

Lena bit her lip. She sat stoically and kept her emotions hidden. 

“I am not playing around. I have no information.” 

Feeling frustrated, Detective Lefebvre changed his strategy. 

“Miss Runarsdottir, who is Bastien Lykel? 

“Who?” 

“Bastien Lykel,” he repeated. 

Lena’s face paled. “I don’t know anyone named Bastien.” 

“Are you sure?” he pressed. 

“We have CCTV evidence of your conversation with him in the holding cells at the Cordonian Palace.” 

“I-I-” she stammered. 

“You were seen talking to him at least three times before you escaped those holding cells in Cordonia. Is that correct?” 

Again, Lena sat in silence. 

“Choose wisely, Miss Runarsdottir, and answer my questions. What is the nature of your relationship with Bastien Lykel?” 

Lena’s breathing quickened and her hands began to shake. If she told the truth, she was dead.

“Let the records show that Miss Runarsdottir is not cooperative.” 

Cordonian Ballroom 

Leo was speaking to Rashad at the bar when Liam approached after having a debate with an American ambassador. 

“Hey Li, I see you survived your conversation with Smithfield.” Leo smirked as Liam ordered a scotch and shot it back quickly. 

“Barkeep, another round for my brother and I’ll take the same.”  

“Why, thank you Leo.” Liam clapped his back. 

“Where is your beautiful Queen?” 

“Riley is upstairs with Ellie. Being so close to her due date, she needs to be off her feet to rest from tonight’s festivities. She is exhausted.” 

Leo nodded. “Totally understandable, but Li, why are you still down here?” 

“Because I need to talk with you and apologize about the other day.” Liam responded. 

“No apologies needed.  I was being an asshole and you called me out.” Leo grinned. 

“Well, I overreacted. You pressed a nerve when you mentioned father.” 

Leo smirked, “good, because I agree with you and I believe you are ‘right on the money’.  

Liam chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Again, that’s what makes you the better King,” Leo winked 

“I do have information for you." Leo continued. "Amalas gave me an update on Interpol’s case on Lena and Bastien.” 

‘Liam winces slightly at the mention of Lena, but he does not interrupt.’ 

“Lena is being uncooperative when questioned by the detectives. Nice touch, by the way, for assigning a psychiatrist to oversee her testimony.” 

“Well, it’s the least I could do knowing what father did to her, and her future.” 

“’Amalas has uncovered a few suspicious ‘coincidences’, but nothing damning enough’ to help shed light as to what her motives are.” 

“So far, the information that he divulged on the estate of Vallenheim has been verified as true. It was uncovered that he has affiliations with members of the Vallenheim royal guard.” 

“Has there been any progress on Bastien’s involvement?” Liam inquired.

“Director Ryerson has scheduled an official update for Monday morning with me. Apparently, Interpol has uncovered a black ledger. It was 'hidden in plain sight'." 

“Care to join me, Leo?” 

Leo responded, “I will be here.” 

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