Easy as a Summer Breeze
For itsbuckysworld’s Hello Spring Short Fiction Writing Event @ibwhellospring
Day 8: Hiding in the closet he/she found…
Fandom: The Umbrella Academy
Warnings: None that I can think of!
Word Count: 2,124
Summary: As Klaus’s plus one to Allison’s wedding, you had one job: avoid his family at all costs. Easier said than - wait, no, yeah, that’s super easy! You’ve got this!
The siblings only ever came together at weddings, births and funerals. That is what Klaus kept on insisting the few times he came into your apartment. Because to clarify, he only ever visited when he was in town to see his family. After the Umbrella Academy fell apart, when those who hadn’t disappeared or died violently decided to flee into the wind, Klaus found you.
Found you?
The details are a little blurry. You were nineteen, fresh out of your parents’ roof and taking classes at the nearby University. You thought he was a fellow student when you found him eating in the dorm’s kitchen at three in the morning. He liked your hair. Or the anime on your t-shirt, you couldn’t remember.
He’d called you pretty.
After an hour of talking, you could feel sleep finally creeping in. You gave him your number and said good night.
From that night he blew into your life at odd intervals.
One year he asked if you would be his plus one to his sister’s wedding.
“I would literally only know you.” You handed him a can of beer as he settled into your couch. His shoulders slumped, his chin dipped. His smile was slow, but wide and full of teeth.
“Please?”
The next thing you knew, you were dressed in a plum dress with a skirt that brushed your knees and ribbons for straps. Instead of a satin wrap as other women adorned over their perfectly rounded shoulders, you had scoured thrift racks for the black pinstriped blazer with sleeves that dropped to your fingertips. Klaus had picked out the scuffed black combat boots and fastened your hair back with a crystal barrette.
“Just so we’re clear. I will be standing by the food and the booze. I do not want to meet your family.”
“You really are the perfect date.” Klaus crooned, leaning forward to place a wet kiss on your cheek while you focused on the road. “Anyway, if you happen to see one coming towards you, run. You can’t be my escape if you’re stuck talking work out routines with Luther.”
Your face scrunched in a grimace. “Why the hell would I want to talk about work out routines?”
“Stop it, okay, you already have my heart!”
You rolled your eyes at his theatrics and let the question slide.
The wedding was very upper class held in a courtyard under a softly billowing white tent; silk tablecloths, bountiful white lilies in centerpieces and a crystal chandelier carefully hung at the middle. A string quartet played popular pop songs, a hopping background noise to the conversations of the clusters of elites.
You clung to Klaus’s arm, eyes scanning the perfect heels, upturned noses and evermoving lips of the crowd. Everyone had something to say, it was mindboggling though, that even those talking were only half interested in their spun tales.
There was no buffet table as you had been imagining, instead, a staff in white vests and black pants catered delicatessen and wine flutes on silver platters, marching between the tent and the kitchen back in the main house.
Klaus stiffened beside you.
“Okay, here we go.” He breathed shakily before revving himself up to stand at full height. “My love, I have spotted a dear sibling and they are fast approaching. You should get out of here.”
“Klaus, all the food is in the main house!”
He leaned over you; his eyes boring pleadingly into yours as he spoke behind clenched teeth. “There is not enough of a crowd here to disappear into. I’ll find you later, I promise!”
“You’re lucky I like you.” You huffed before turning away sharply and catching up with a waitstaff that was headed back with empty glasses.
Small talk wasn’t your forte. Asking curt, overall meaningless questions, however, was. The young man was utterly confused by your presence but did not dismiss you as you followed him all the way back to the back door to the kitchen.
Klaus only had a moment to watch your skirt flitter in the gentle summer breeze before turning back to find a fidgeting Luther standing next to him.
“Who’s the girl?” He asked gruffly, eyes scanning the guests.
Klaus clasped his hands together and allowed his hips to sway to the instrumental music of…was that Barbie Girl? Did the old money know what they were bobbing to as they ignored each other?
“Klaus?”
“Hm? Oh. Well, hell-o to you too, brother. It’s been-what? Two, three years?” Deflection was an art of which Klaus was the master. He wasn’t about to give you up to the crazy that was his family.
You weren’t allowed inside the kitchen, which, alright, you could understand. But where were you supposed to go if there were no food and drinks to haunt? Standing by the kitchen door would probably only get you banned from the wedding and you’d have to sit back at your car until Klaus finally decided to look for you.
Your stomach was starting to feel empty and you were itching for a drink. Going through the house to the other side of the kitchen seemed your only option. Stomping quickly through the grass, you ducked windows and waited around corners, avoiding every person you could hear or sense coming.
“Aha!” You cheered when you found an empty doorway leading inside. There was a mahogany staircase immediately to your right, leading to a second-floor banister. You couldn’t see anyone, but you could hear a cacophony of women laughing.
Carefully treading the rich carpet, you followed the hall passed a billboard of some family’s history and towards a gorgeous dining room with floor to ceiling windows opening out to the courtyard and reception tent. Everyone looked so colorful from a distance and you belatedly noticed a creek just a short distance on the other side of the tent. This place was phenomenal! It was a shame you didn’t have a camera.
A woman barking orders shook you from your reverie. It came from the door to your left and in a panic, you considered hiding behind the china cabinet at your back. When the door swung open, you jumped and did just that.
“I hear ya, I hear ya, God woman!” The voice was male and dismissive as the woman, who you assumed was the chef, barked at him to leave her kitchen. His continued grumbling only served to upset the chef more and you rolled your eyes to the ceiling, begging him to shut up already.
You had a plan. But your plan would go a hell of a lot smoother if the chef was in a good mood.
When the hall grew quiet and the only sounds from the kitchen were the typical clinking glass and sizzling meats, you peered around the cabinet. It was clear.
Inhaling deeply, your fingers tidied your hair and pat down the skirt of your dress. Marching straight up to the door you rapped your knuckles in a polite knock. At the last second you pulled off the blazer and tossed it over the back of the closest dining chair.
“Yes, what is it?” Blonde bangs peeking out of a hair net, sky blue eyes, smudges of flour on high cheek bones and a scowl. Must be the same woman from before.
You smiled.
“Hi, could I have a platter of food and bottle of Moscato for the bride, please?”
For the bride. No one would say no to her today.
Once you were loaded down with your request; sausages rolled in dough, shrimp cocktail, an assortment of grapes and cheeses on a platter and a chilled bottle of white Moscato; you gave an appreciative thanks, waited for the door to close, grabbed your blazer and sauntered down the hallway.
You were sure you could find a bench somewhere on this plot of land to dine in seclusion. But when you heard footfalls on the stairs and excited voices, you quickly ducked into the (thankfully) open closet beneath the stairs. You were careful to shut the door quietly without spilling a single item.
“This hiding spot is taken.” A voice spoke from behind.
Yelping, you turned. Your hand quickly slapped over your mouth, causing the wine bottle to drop to the carpet and roll. There was no time to see who you were stuck in there with as you pressed your ear to the door, listening to see if anyone had heard you.
The voices continued down the stairs. You stayed pressed to the door until you were sure they had gone.
“I can’t drink this.” The voice spoke again, disgust lacing his words.
Reaching blindly in the dark, you found a string for the light and pulled.
He was sat back against the wall, legs sprawled in a v, holding your now opened bottle of wine. There was no time to be distracted by the open collar of his black suit, the attractive style of hair on his face…or his face in general.
“Dude, that’s mine!” You nearly screeched, reaching over to grab the bottle back. Your eyes widened. “This had a cork, how’d you even open it?”
He shrugged evasively, sticking something back into an inside pocket of his suit jacket. “How’d you get away with all that?” He nodded towards the platter of food still balanced on your hand.
Mimicking his shrug, you answered. “Said it was for the bride.”
He threw his head back, hitting the wall he groaned. “Damn! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“What did you get?” You asked, trying and failing at hiding your curiosity.
He held up a block of what looked to be yellow cheddar cheese.
“What, no crackers?”
His hand dropped to his lap; his face unamused. “Ha, ha. How about a trade? Some of my cheese for your shrimp cocktail.”
“I already have cheese.” You turned back to the door. Perfectly happy with your loot, you would prefer sitting outside on a bench in the sun to trying to fend off grabby hands in a storage closet.
“Alright, alright, look!” He called out, stopping you from opening the door and leaving. “I wasn’t going to brag, but I found the Father of the Groom’s liquor cabinet.”
He held up three small bottles for you to see.
“Three of these and a hunk of cheese for the shrimp cocktail.”
Frowning, you conceded. “Fine.”
Setting down the platter and wine bottle, you knelt to conduct the trade. He sat up and folded his legs in. Pulling a knife from his pocket he set to cutting the block of cheese into two.
You raised an eyebrow. “You always keep a knife in your pocket?”
“You always crash a wedding for the food?” He returned without batting an eye.
“I’m not crashing.”
“Sure you are. Why else would you be hiding in a closet, avoiding the glowing bride and her family?”
You considered him as he finished his task, lifted his head and handed you your portion. “I would argue that you’re doing the exact same thing.”
He smiled, though there was little humor behind it. “Well the bride’s family is my family, so I have reason.”
Leaning away from him, you grabbed the cheese and liquor bottles. It would figure that in avoiding Klaus’s family, you would end up hiding in the same closet as one of his brothers. Because he had to be. It was your luck that he would be. That park bench was sounding more attractive by the second.
“I’m not crashing.” You insist, slipping your blazer back on and arranging your loot to leave. “I’ve just been properly warned.”
His eyes squinted; his lips parted. “You’re Klaus’s girl, aren’t you?”
It was a guess and nothing more than that. Still, your body froze and your eyes slowly lifted to meet his.
“I thought he was exaggerating.” He was staring at you as if…in a way that…
“Exaggerating about what?” You couldn’t help to ask.
“How beautiful you are.”
Air pushed up from the back of your throat, crashing audibly behind your lips like a car wreck.
“Okay, goodbye!” You scooped up your food and scrambled for the door, not caring when you slammed it loudly behind you. Your face was hot, the summer air felt refreshing on it. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, you picked up your pace to hide the irregularity.
Diego was left with a whiff of your jasmine perfume and a curious taste on his lips. His tongue pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth. His mind replayed the interaction several times before he decided it was time to get up and join the party.
After all. It felt like it was about to get interesting.
