I feel like this is people's reaction every time a CP breaks up and one of them tries to move on with a new acting partner. No matter how many years, apparently.
Soft sunlight seeps through the curtains, falls on her face, tickles her nose. She smiles through her sleep, her brain gradually wakes up and comes to her senses.
"I'm telling you, pancakes!"
"What are you talking about? Who the hell eats pancakes for breakfast?.."
"...Are you goddamn serious?.."
Once upon a time, she studied at the School for Good. Once upon a time, she was taught that one day she would find someone who would truly love her, her prince. He would rescue her, take her to his castle, and they would have a magnificent wedding and live happily ever after.
Sometimes she thinks about it. Sometimes she thinks that everything would be great if her life turned out that way.
She had a prince once. A boy, who loved her, and whom she loved back.
But then, he got killed during the final battle in the Tale of Sophie and Agatha.
She was grieving. Back then it seemed to her that she would spend her whole life all alone, and then die, unhappy and loveless. Like a Never. Like the worst of sinners.
She was afraid of this fate. She cried every night.
But there was something she had forgotten about then.
A friend. The friends.
She had friends after all. Friends, that became a part of her soul, that she grew so close to, that would be there for her every day.
Friends, that she loved back. Friends, that she cared about.
Friends, that promised to spent their whole life with her.
Not out of pity, not out of the sacrifice inherent in one way or another to the Evers. Just because as much as she treasured them, she was so dear to them.
They were all really close. Too close for anything to break their bond.
She swings her legs over the side of the bed, listening to their exchange behind the wall, smiling softly.
His friends, her little family, genuinely loving each other
Maybe it's not the Happily Ever After that the School of Good and Evil taught her. Maybe she couldn't save her prince from the death, maybe she'll never get married.
By the time they had tracked down André, procured their ice cream, and made their way back to the boat (well, by the time she had made her way back to the boat, having dropped Rose off at her own home on the way), Marinette had been gone. Luka was still sitting on the couch, though, idly noodling on his guitar while a mug of ice cream melted on the crates they used as a coffee table.
He'd had that smile on his face again.
…and, she would have sworn, a smudge of light pink on his cheek.
And his neck.
But he’d just asked her how her date had gone, and she had tossed a rolled-up bag at him. When he’d looked up, she’d wagged a container of marshmallow swirl at him.
“If you want it later,” she’d sniffed, and he’d given her a smile before going back to his guitar, and that had been that.
Rose seemed to heed her warning, easing off her yenta meddling for the time being, at least. It was…nice. Having her undivided attention back. She was supposed to be coming over for another homework date, and she hadn’t even tried to invite Marinette along when they’d discussed it at lunch.
…which was probably why Juleka was so surprised to see Marinette bouncing down the steps instead of Rose as she cut up some fruit for snacks.
“Marinette?” she asked, frowning. “Were…were you supposed to be coming over today? Did we have plans?”
Marinette tripped over the last step, hopping and laughing a few steps as she spun to face her. She held up her hands and waved her off, and Juleka’s eyes narrowed at the smile on her face. She’d almost call it nervous – like Marinette was trying to be sneaky about something.
“W-wh-what? Oh, no! I’m here for Luka!” she said. Juleka lifted a brow, and her next laugh was even more unhinged. “I m-mean to see Luka! Not for Luka, why would I be Luka’s here for Luka I mean…um…”
Her eyebrows had just risen higher the longer Marinette rambled. Marinette’s eyes had just gotten bigger, until she snapped her mouth shut with a quiet eep! After a moment of tense, awkward silence had passed between them, Juleka just rolled her eyes and looked back to her fruit.
“…whatever,” she said. “He’s in his bunk. Rose is coming over for homework.”
She glanced up to shoot Marinette a Look, hoping she wouldn’t make her say it. Y’know. So can you leave us alone to make out if we wanna? Marinette just nodded and tightened her grip on the straps of her bag.
“Awesome!” she said. “I’m just gonna…he’s…we’ll leave you to it, then!”
Juleka rolled her eyes as Marinette bolted towards their cabin. They were both acting so weird lately. As she heard more footsteps above, she sighed and tossed the cantaloupe she’d been cutting into a bowl. Whatever. She’d have to grill him about it later – she had more important things to worry about just then.
Things like her manic pixie dream unicorn, who was singing out her name as she hopped down the steps with a grace that would have made Marinette jealous.
“Sorry I’m late!” Rose giggled. She held up a bag of trail mix, grinning at her. “I brought snacks!”
“We had snacks,” Juleka said, laughing as Rose bounced over to the counter. She leaned over to smack a kiss against her lips, and then she grinned as she popped a blackberry into her mouth. Juleka looked back at the cutting board, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “But your mom’s trail mix is awesome, so I’m not complaining.”
“She added extra peanut butter chips just for you this time,” Rose said. She frowned as she looked around. “Is Luka here? I thought I saw his bike outside.”
“He’s in his room,” Juleka said. “He promised not to bug us, and Marinette showed up to keep him company, so…Rose, no.”
As soon as she had said Marinette, Rose had sucked in a breath and started squealing. She was biting it back, though, her hands fisted as she practically vibrated in her seat, and the squeal sounded more like a teakettle. Juleka groaned and shoved a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth.
“Leave it,” she said. “It’ll happen if it’s supposed to happen, and it hasn’t happened yet, ok? Just…give them space. Like they’re giving us space.”
“But…but…but…!” Rose squealed after swallowing the fruit whole. Juleka cocked an eyebrow and shoved a bigger piece at her. “Juleka!!!!”
“Rose,” she shot back. She rolled her eyes and walked around the counter, pausing to kiss her cheek before she turned towards her room. “I’m gonna go get my homework. Just…stay, ok? Leave it.”
Rose huffed out a pout, but at least it looked like she was listening? She grabbed at the bowls of snacks, at least, and started bringing them over to the couch. Juleka shook her head and pushed open the door, grumbling the whole time.
“You guys owe me so much,” she grumped as she closed the door behind her. “Rose is out there fully convinced…oh, come the fuck on!”
Because apparently Marinette actually was just here for Luka, as Juleka turned to find her laying on top of him on his bed with his hands up her shirt and her lips firmly attached to his neck. She had frozen at the sound of Juleka’s voice, but Luka was glaring at her like he was seriously contemplating siblingcide.
“Fucking gross, guys!” she groaned, scrubbing at her eyes.
“It’s no grosser than what you were planning on getting up to, I’m sure,” Luka said. “Ever heard of knocking, pest?”
“Ever heard of…you know what, fair,” she groaned. “Just…I’m gonna…how long has this been going on? You’re back together, right? This isn’t just…hormones, or whatever?”
“…oh, I don’t know,” Luka said, grinning at Marinette. “There’s a fair bit of hormones involved.”
“Luka!” Marinette shrieked, but he just chuckled and kissed her neck. Disgusting. Marinette peeked up from his own neck, a fiery blush on her face. “A…a while now. Since the towel. Skirt! Your skirt! When I brought back…”
“…I don’t want to know,” Juleka said, her nose wrinkling. Not if towels were involved. “Mazel, or whatever. God, Rose is going to be absolutely insufferable now…”
“Can we maybe not tell her yet?” Luka asked as she disappeared behind the partition to fetch her books. “We were kinda in the middle of something. Can Rose wait?”
“What, do you think I’m stupid or something?” Juleka sniffed, keeping her eyes firmly locked on her books as she crossed back into his side of their cabin. “I want my own smoochies tonight, and no way that’s happening if I tell her what’s going on in here.”
“Thanks,” Luka laughed. She paused before she opened the door, taking a second to look back at them. Luka had turned his attention back to Marinette, but at least his hands were out of her shirt now. He was brushing her hair back from her face, which was still pressed against his neck, and whispering at her. Probably trying to convince her that it wasn’t all that embarrassing or whatever. She sniffed and kicked her toe against the door.
“Hey,” she called, drawing their attention. Or at least his, since Marinette just pressed closer to him. She rolled her eyes and tossed him a smile. “I’m happy for you. You’re absolutely disgusting, but…I’m happy for you.”
“Love you, too, monster,” he said, smiling back. Marinette mumbled something from his neck, and he chuckled as he turned his attention back to his…girlfriend. Because she had to be now, again, right? She was totally his girlfriend again. Juleka’s smile softened as she stepped back into the living room, closing their door firmly behind her.
Rose was on the couch, half the bowl of blackberries gone as she read her history book.
“Jules?” she asked, looking up. “Everything ok?”
“Yeah,” she said, smiling as she dropped her books on the floor and dropped herself onto the couch beside her. She pulled Rose close, her smile growing as she tasted the blackberries on her lips. “Everything’s perfect.”
It’s hours later and we’re still talking. The DJ arrives around ten and cracks the speakers up to ear-ringing heights so we exit to the lobby and stand by the window as the snow falls and the lights from the ten foot Christmas tree twinkle on the glass.
“No, no, stop, I can’t take it anymore,” He shrieks in agony as he grabs my arm, “He said that when he was inside you?”
“Yes! I didn’t know what to say back, like, um, thanks pal?”
“‘You’re so Alpha’” He repeats, deadpan, but his shoulders betray him when they start wobbling again, “‘and I’m just a little-”
“Beta boy, yes. Oh Evie, you intimidate me so much, I’ve always wanted to fuck a girl who scared me.”
“I’m going to die because of this story,” He cries, “I refuse to believe that men like this exist, it’s just too much.”
“There was this other lad too,” I begin, “Not as bad, but he got a nosebleed halfway through and it was dripping all over my face for like fifteen minutes before either of us noticed.”
“No!”
“Yeah, God, I feel bad, I think he was on some blood thinning medication or something but like…” We fall about laughing again, laughing and laughing until I think I’ll start gagging. I remember thinking during that experience that there was only one other person in the world who would find it as hilarious as I did, and as we splutter and cackle now at my retelling I remember how it used to be like this all of the time with us. I think about the time we lost through staying out of touch as he wipes his eyes and stumbles to the side a little bit, from laughing or from drinking a little too much, I’m not sure.
“Women are not like that,” he says, “I’m sorry for you, but they’re not, even the crazy LA ones don’t put me in situations like that.” He steadies himself a little by bracing his arm on the wall, so close that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. “I just don’t get it, do you think they get nervous?”
“Nervous around me? I doubt it. Sure what’s there to be nervous of?”
“It’s a lot of pressure, you know, making love to a beautiful woman for the first time. There’s a lot on the line, the chances of humiliation are high, maybe, I don’t know, maybe that guy just blurted the first weird thing that came into his head-” He breaks off because a high pitched laugh has exploded out of him again, “But it’s a flex to say that you’re so hot that you give men nosebleeds.”
“Oh come on, you’re exaggerating.”
“No, for real. Don’t you remember how nervous you made me when we were young? I turned into a total idiot around you.”
“Hardly.”
“It’s true. You were like this stunning princess and I was just some guy.”
I scoff, “Some guy?”
“Yeah, and it’s nice to see that some things never change because you’re still so beautiful and I’m still just a random man off the street.”
“Hmm, c’mon, you’re just schmoozing me,” I say, “Is this the way you all sweet-talk each other in Los Angeles? That’s not going to work. Irish girls are too humble to accept that.”
“Have I made you self-conscious?”
“No, I’m just wondering if you’re actually trying to flirt with me now or if you’re just trying to make me feel better about the fact that I’m thirty and my body is slowly ageing and rotting away.”
“Don’t say that, you look better than ever.”
I narrow my eyes, “I’m so curious about your game.”
“What do you mean?”
“Yeah, how you approach women, how you flirt with them now. What’s your technique? Is it intense flattery?”
He scoffs, “Oh, no, come on, I don’t have a technique, I don’t think about it like that.”
“No?”
“What do you think I am? Some kind of weirdo pick-up artist? No. I… I improvise, it depends on so much, like, where I am, who she is, what I feel like I’m hoping to get from the situation…”
“Okay okay, right. Well what if you were at an event with friends. Say, a wedding…”
He smirks at me.
“…and you see a woman standing on her own by the bar, and you know, she’s pretty mysterious in quite a sexy way, and you’re looking at her and thinking, hmm, yeah, maybe I’d like a piece of that-”
“You think that’s my inner monologue?” He interrupts, “That I think like that?”
“No, shh- shut up for a second, in this scenario you do. And you’re going to go over and talk to her, and you see the perfect opportunity to do it, and the lights from the dancefloor are shining in her hair, and oh, she looks so lonely over there, someone should go and keep her company…’
“I’d say hi, you’re very pretty, can I kiss you please?”
“Really?”
“Yeah t-”
He doesn’t finish because I have grabbed him by the lapels and pressed my lips against his. Maybe it’s for the joke, or because I’m slightly drunk, or maybe it’s to see if it still feels the way that it used to, I don’t know. I don’t really think about it, it’s just happening.
“Oh look, it worked!” I say as we pull away, and I don’t really have a chance to try and read his face to see what he thinks about it because he takes a step towards me and kisses me again, though differently to how I kissed him, gentler, slower, with my head cradled in his hands, which is inconvenient because he makes my insides start flip flopping around. I draw back laughing, “What are you at?”
“We’re kissing now,” he confirms, then frowns, “I think. Aren’t we kissing? Or is this a hallucination?”
“Jude…”
“Don’t you want us to be kissing?”
“Well it’s not that, it’s-”
“Ah, you think it’s dangerous to be kissing.”
“If you keep saying ‘kissing’ it’s going to lose all meaning.”
“What did we call it when we were teenagers? Shiftin’ right? Will you shift me, Evie?”
“Oh my God,” I hold my hand up to his face, “it is illegal for you to put on an accent and say that. I hate that you can still do that.”
“My Irish voice?” he says in his Irish voice.
“Please get that away from me!”
“Sorry about that,” he settles back into his American drawl, and I jerk with surprise as I feel the tips of his fingers graze my waist, “Also, I’m sorry that I kissed you, I thought we were, you know, doing that now.”
“It was a joke… And maybe just a little bit so that I could see if it still felt the same as it used to.”
His eyes tour my face, “Did it?”
“Did it for you?”
The corners of his mouth tick up, “I don’t know, it’s been a long time since I’ve kissed you, and honestly I didn’t get a decent sample, mind if I try it again?”
“Aha! I’ve figured out your game,” I declare, “You put on that silly act you’ve always put on, don’t you?”
He hooks his finger into the strap of my dress before it drops off my shoulder, “Hm? What act is that?”
“Your favourite one. ‘Oh, little old me? I’m so innocent, why I’ve never even held hands before, and I certainly haven’t fucked half of Dublin city. I don’t even know what sex is.’”
He gasps with delight and stares right into my face, “You’re still obsessed!” He cries, “and you haven’t stopped wondering about me!”
“About what, exactly?”
“My body count! After all these years it still tortures you. You’re so shallow…”
“Oh please, I couldn’t care less.”
“Evie,” He says mock-scoldingly, really drawing out the syllables, “I can’t believe it. I told you back then that it didn’t matter, that I didn’t have to tell you if I didn’t want to, but you’ve never let it go to this day. Wow. Wow.”
“I don’t even want to know,” I sniff, “It’s meaningless information to me now.”
“Well since you don’t care and it has no power over you anymore, maybe you finally ought to know…” He glances quickly around the empty lobby before his eyes slide back to mine and he whispers, “that you were the seventh.”
“The seventh?”
“Is that a good-surprise or bad-surprise?”
“Well I thought it’d be so many more.”
He shrugs, “No, I mean there was the first girl in the playground, then a girl who worked in the tennis club at the beach, a girl from my maths class at school, Michelle, someone from my university, Astrid, and then you-” He pauses, “Wait, there was another one. You were eighth. Seventh and a half.”
“And a half? Who did you forget? A centaur?”
He shakes his head, “There was an awkward foursome situation in Berlin once. It’s a long story, really stupid. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“Well I’ve never been more curious.”
“I’m a source of a lot of interesting info.”
“Like your current body count?” I tease.
“Oh, now I’m ran-through.”
“Tell me more about your life.”
“We just don’t have the time tonight.”
“What, not now?” I protest, “Not in this perfectly perfect situation when we’re both a little drunk and potentially snowed in for days, when there’s nothing to do but talk to each other?”
“No, see you’ve changed the subject, you’ve got me messed up. I…” He laughs tipsily and sways a little bit closer to me, through accident or otherwise I’m not sure, “…I was thinking about how much I might like to kiss you for a little longer this time, just to see if you still give me that same crazy feeling that I used to get with you, and you distracted me.”
I act like it’s a burden to me and slump back against the wall, “Fine, go ahead.”
“Oh jeez, no need to beg me, you know it’s off putting to be so eager?”
“Please?”
He comes in close and pecks my lips gently and even that makes my knees start to wobble. “No, come on, give me a proper kiss, that’s the only way we’ll know.”
“Still so demanding,” He tilts my chin towards him and angles his mouth over mine while his hands skim up my back and hold my body flush to his. As he strokes his lips over mine I can’t help but curse inwardly because of course this is happening to me, of course it feels like everything I’ve been searching for in the years between then and now, everything I couldn’t find in other people. These are the kinds of kisses that ruined me for other men for years to follow, and he’s ruining me now.
He glides his tongue along my lower lip and builds this kiss to the kind of intensity that shouldn’t be displayed in a public lobby, but he doesn’t care so neither do I. He kisses me until I’m soft and formless in his arms, until I forget the years in between then and now, and then he finally slows it, brushing his lips against mine and then gently drawing away and I find myself following his mouth in search of more, “The same?” He murmurs with his forehead against mine, “Or terrible?”
His hand cradles the back of my head as I sigh and bury my face in his shoulder, “What are we going to do, Jude?”
“You’re going to have to try not to be awkward about it because we might be snowed in for several days.” He says, “If you’ve decided I’m crusty and repulsive, you’re going to have to hide it from me to spare my ego. Either that or I’ll camp out in my room out of humiliation and get my sister to bring my meals to me until I can get the earliest flight to LAX.”
I pause, “so you’re sharing with your sister?”
“Yeah we booked late, so a twin room was all they had left. And she snores like hell.”
“Well that’s a pity because I booked months ago, and got a huge room all to myself. A four poster bed and a big gorgeous bath.”
“Are you bringing that up to make me jealous or is that an invitation?”
I scoff, “an invitation to what, exactly?”
“Come up and fuck you in the bath or something, I don’t know. Why would you bring the bath into it?”
“That’d be fairly shameless of me, wouldn’t it, if that’s what I was alluding to.”
“Is that the kind of woman you’ve become? The kind that invites strange men into her bath?”
“God no, I’d never directly ask that, that’d be very slutty.”
He brushes his fingers gently along the side of my neck, which is unfair because he knows how much I like that, and as I feel that touch all the way down to my toes he gives me a sly little smile and draws back to look at me, “I don’t know, you’ve really talked up this bath and you’ve got me curious. Will you show it to me?”
“You’ve always been so cheeky, did you know that? You ask audacious things of people.”
“Me? Never. That’s just not me, you must be thinking of somebody else. Of one of your other ex-boyfriends.” He grins and saunters casually toward the stairs, glancing over his shoulder at me as he goes, “I actually just remembered that I spilled something on my suit.”
“Did you.”
“Mm, I’m a total mess, I might be drunker than I look. I think I better go and take it off.”
“Doesn’t suit you anyway. You were always better in shorts.”
He pauses for a moment and regards me with one raised eyebrow, a question, and I don’t care that I’m predictable to him, that he already knows I will push myself away from the wall and catch up to him, “Actually you have the right idea, my dress is uncomfortable. I want to change out of it, only I’m not sure I can manage the zip on my own.”
“Oh, I can help you with that,” he says, “Or at least I can try, you know, but fair warning I haven’t ever undressed a woman before.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” I smile, as I wind my fingers through his.
