Lovers in a Dangerous Time Chapter Fourteen
Finally! The long awaited birthday party. I know I made promises that it would be out earlier in the week, but the muse was having none of that. She comes and goes as she pleases, apparently. But she has finally blessed us with some hopefully good content. Thank you for reading, you beautiful people!
As silly as it was, Claire reveled in answering the door. It was a simple act, so utterly normal, but that was the beauty of it. For just a moment, welcoming people she actually liked into her home, she got to feel normal. The world was not spinning out of control around her, her marriage wasn't crumbling beneath her feet, she wasn't floating about listlessly in a strange country living a life that was so, so far from what she wanted. It was a nice façade, greeting her friends and teasing Geillis for her tardiness (and the underlying reason, as evidenced by the bruise blossoming just below her earlobe), but façades crumble. This one in particular was splintered by Frank's hovering presence, his touches and kisses. It felt possessive, showy in a way that wasn't at all like him.
Jamie's arrival didn't help matters, either, but somehow it was still the best part of her evening thus far. She already knew what he was wearing, how he'd look, but somehow when she found him on the other side of the door it was like the first time. Perhaps it was the obvious parallel to the day they met that inspired the fluttering feeling in her stomach; him on her porch, looking handsome as all get out (albeit decidedly less concerned). Perhaps it was the way he looked at her, the flash of unadulterated desire in his eyes before he regained control of himself, or the remembrance that barely an hour ago he had been kissing her. Perhaps it was just Jamie himself, but when he pulled her into a quick hug her knees went weak like a schoolgirl and she was thankful that no one was around to see it.
"Yer beautiful, Sassenach," he murmured against her ear as he pulled away, the slightest smirk on his lips as he met her eyes again.
Not you look beautiful, or that dress is beautiful, but you are beautiful.
"Thank you, Jamie," she replied, flashing him a cheeky look as she took the bottle of wine he'd brought. To anyone else's eyes, that's all she was thanking him for.
"I've got another wee present for ye but I didna think it appropriate for the party." His voice was low, meant just for her ears as he followed her toward the ballroom, where the indoor portion of the party was set up.
"Oh, something tells me it's none so wee," Claire teased in a similarly covert tone, setting the bottle on the built with the others. "Scotch?"
