#xmas 17

[musicgarden7]

Bloody Xmas

Eldarya: The Origins - Christmas 2017

[Credits: Beemoov/ChiNoMiko]

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #201 - To Build a Home: Charitable Spirit

PROMPT: practice what you preach during the giving season

Something a bit different! I’m really excited about this idea, @mrsquill not so much. She tried to talk me into another sibling but propos for trying. 

18 days until Christmas. December 7th.

AO3 - TBAH

CHARITABLE SPIRIT

The lights were off, bar the Christmas tree in the living room window and a few night lights in the upstairs hall. Bedroom doors were left ajar as Claire tiptoed across the floorboards begging they didn’t creak. She sighed when she finally managed to slip into her bedroom, bedside lamp on, husband tucked under the covers, Stephen King book in his hand.

Her teeth had been brushed an hour before the forth rereading of We’re Going on a Bear Hunt and the sixth internal rendition of Go the Fuck to Sleep. She had Owen to thank for that last one, the man chuckling as he slid the book towards her a few visits to the local bookshop ago. Claire had been ready for her bed since dinner was served, her shower had and her pyjamas put on. They had let the boys put on The Magic School Bus as the adults cleared the table of brightly coloured plastic plates and kiddy forks. Claire didn’t think they quite understood it but it made her feel less guilty that the four and three-year-old were watching TV before bed.

‘You know, I thought the bunk beds and sharing a room thing wouldn’t work. But, it’s going better than expected.’ Bernie and Hunter still refused to sleep the second they were tucked in but at least they stayed in bed now that they were located in the same room. Claire had thought they would like their own space but it was Owen who argued that they were similar enough in age to not be bothered by the other. The boys were close, why separate them at bedtime. He hummed, smiling at her before his eyes flicked back to the page. ‘I just feel like Hunter’s room is a waste of space.’

‘We’ll have another kid, then.’ Owen didn’t even look up from the page, waiting for a beat before he shrugged telling her he was joking with a falter in his lip that said he wasn’t. She didn’t know what exactly it was about Owen or how it came about but the man was destined for a big brood, Claire just wasn’t made for his heavy babies.

She climbed onto the bed easily, sitting on the covers she had just turned down by Owen’s knees as her whole body faced the headboard. ‘Speaking of …’ She paused, watching as her husband pulled the bookmark out of the back page and slid it in between the pages he had open before he closed it whole attention drawn towards her. She could already guess what he was assuming behind his black-framed dad glasses Claire loved to tease him about. ‘You know how Katie and Nathan are struggling to conceive?’ Claire didn’t wait for him to nod. ‘I want to offer to be their surrogate.’ She spat it out, almost biting her tongue the words moved too fast.

‘What?’

Nathan and Katie had bought the property next door only a year after Owen and Claire bought theirs. The young couple had the same intentions with a little less renovation. They wanted an out of city lifestyle and a break from their inner-city jobs. Owen and Nathan couldn’t have been more similar and with only four years between them, they had plenty to bond over. The couples had been close from the day they met sharing weekly dinners full of good food, laughter and an open bottle of wine. Katie had been trying to conceive longer than Owen and Claire were married. Six years was too much. They had poured their life savings into failed attempts at IVF and the previous Friday they had woefully admitted that giving up was their only option for a biological child.

‘They’re great people, Owen, and you know that.’ Kate’s body just happened to refuse every attempt at forcing it to grow a life. It wasn’t fair. They were hard working, well mannered, great members of society they should have been allowed to raise a child exactly like themselves. ‘They’re applying for the adoption waitlist but that could take them close to a decade. I had two healthy babies without a hitch. I can do it again.’

He shook his head, hand reaching to pull the glasses off his face so Owen could squeeze the bridge of his nose. ‘Claire —‘

‘Don’t tell me I can’t do this, Owen.’ She only stood her ground. ‘What if this was us, what if we struggled to get Bernie or Hunter … what if it was Karen or your sister? What if it’s the boys in the future? Wouldn’t it drive you crazy to know someone was willing to do this for them or us but her grumpy old husband said no?’

‘I’m not grumpy … or old …’ he pouted, ‘I just — what about us? I would like to have another kid, you know? And what’ll the impact be on you? On the boys?’ He was trying not to be defensive, she could see the tick in his brow trying desperately not to scowl. ‘I’m sure they would love it, Claire, and God would I like to help them but I don’t think this is the right way to do it.’

‘It’s the only way we can help them. We’ve sat around for years playing sympathetic, they’ve got to hate us. They’ve done nothing but help us. They take the boys whenever we ask, even when we don’t. I think we have to repay them for that. We were teaching the boys about Christmas spirit tonight, teaching them that it’s about looking out for others. I think we should practice what we preach. They’re not going to care that I’m pregnant or that the baby’s not ours — they’ll be excited that Katie and Nathan will be getting a baby. And, I’ll be fine.’

He opened his mouth to protest but Claire stopped him. ‘I hope you know I’m not asking your permission. I’ll let this marriage fall apart before I let Katie destroy herself over this. It’s 9 months, Owen, we’ll live.’

‘Our marriage isn’t going to fall apart, Claire.’ He sighed at her, half huffing. ‘I just want to make sure you’ve thought about this, first.’ She nodded. Claire wasn’t the kind of person to walk into a commitment without thinking about it first. Owen knew that but this situation was different. Doing something like this for someone else no matter how close they were, was going to have repercussions. He understood Claire felt like Katie was the little sister she never knew she wanted but there were a lot of things that could go wrong and he didn’t want Claire in the firing line.

Just because they had the boys — without planning — didn’t mean this whole thing was going to take immediately. He worried that it wasn’t just Katie’s hostile uterus, that maybe something was wrong with her eggs or Nathan’s sperm. He didn’t want to watch his wife get her hopes up, nor did he want to witness her miscarry regardless of if it was someone else’s baby. He liked Nathan, hell, he adored the guy but Owen didn’t want to see their friendships fall apart because Claire couldn’t keep up her end of the deal. He knew they would test her, make sure her health was in order before going through with anything but there was always room for error no matter how perfect his wife was.

She was right, anyhow, the holidays were all about being selfless. Part of him wished it was about dressing up as Santa Claus and surprising his kids but Owen wanted them to take more out of the holiday season. He wanted Bernard and Hunter to learn there were lessons in kindness and selflessness during November and December. Maybe they were too young to completely understand what their mother was about to do, but it would stand as a grand example of kind gestures.

‘They might not even accept. I mean, I want to mention it to them tomorrow but they might say no.’ Claire shrugged, leaning forward until she was standing on her hands and knees as she kissed her husband on the cheek before climbing under the covers.

‘They won’t say no.’

[…]

Katie almost pushed Hunter off her lap when Claire finally got around to her proposal over dinner. The other woman had a Grady toddler on one knee and a glass of wine in the other hand which promptly ended up in her husband’s lap.

‘Oh, Claire, we can’t ask you to do that.’ Katie was crying immediately, tears already soaking her cheeks as she squeezed Hunter to her chest, apologising to the boy for giving him a fright.

Claire shook her head. ‘You’re not asking, I’m offering. Besides, I’d like to see your family come visit you for Christmas instead of making you drive to Colorado.’ Selfishly, she hated setting up a Christmas meal for the six of them — including the boys — two weeks before Christmas just so they could celebrate the holidays with their friends.

‘But you hated being pregnant.’ Katie told her, reminding the woman that she had been privy to both her pregnancies. It was the tears on her face that pushed Claire, solidified her want to do this — not that she would back down now that her friends were giving her a friendly out.

She smiled, wide and full of teeth as Claire’s eyes drifted to Hunter’s dirty face. They would one day have a meal with both boys sitting calmly at the table, each of them clean and Whiskey not begging for scraps at their feet. Tonight was not that night, Bernie had already excused himself, disappearing to poke at the presents already under the tree as three-year-old Hunter had smeared half — if not all — of his potatoes across his face. They were both getting too old for this, Claire prayed. Nevertheless, she loved them, no matter how swollen her feet had gotten, or how round her belly whilst they were still tucked safely in her belly. She had only smiled softly at each warning of a c-section if another pound was gained. She trusted her boys, loved her boys in the womb and out. ‘I hated being pregnant but I loved getting to hold my boys at the end of it. I will love getting to see you hold your baby finally.’ Claire rose from her chair and rounded the table to crouch beside Kate. ‘You deserve this and I want to help you to the best of my ability.’

Kate’s tears had been silent until Claire’s hand touched her knee, the other woman breaking out into a full sob as her Husband reached over and slid an arm around her shoulders. ‘I really don’t want to drive to Colorado next year.’ Kate laughed, wiping her tears before she pulled Claire into a tight hug.

‘You’re probably going to have to drink the rest of that for me too.’ She laughed, siding her wine glass towards Kate’s plate as she rose and slipped herself into Hunter’s chair, the boy transferring from the lap of his sometime babysitter to his mother. ‘We can do this.’ Claire reached for her hand and squeezed.

‘Are you okay with this?’ Katie turned to Owen, knowing the mans possessive and protective trait. Owen liked to keep the things in his world within the realm of his protection. He trusted Claire, trusted her body, trusted her intentions, but Katie knew something in his head would be going haywire.

Owen gave her a short nod as Claire laughed, waving her hand in his direction. ‘Please, he loves it when I’m pregnant.’ She threw a wink towards her husband, making him laugh as he shook his head. There was still a bit of neanderthal in him, they all knew that.  

The sound of feet on Owen’s polished floorboards ran towards them in typical Bernard fashion, little boy holding a wrapped gift over his head as he gleamed at the table of adults. ‘Can I open it now?’ He already knew it was from Katie and Nathan, already knew he could open it before the night was over. But he asked with the biggest smile his four-year-old cheeks could offer.

Katie cleared her throat and matched his smile. ‘Of course! Can you bring Hunter’s to the table too?’ He dropped his gift on the chair beside his father before racing off into the living room knowing already which was Hunter’s gift without asking. Claire always colour co-ordinated wrapping with the tree’s baubles. Everything was silver and red bar four green presents — from Katie and Nathan. ‘I feel like what I got you for Christmas can’t match what you’re offering.’ She smiled towards Claire, feeling a little silly that she stocked up on her friend’s favourite bath time luxuries.  

Claire just squeezed her hand again. All they could give in return was their joy.

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #206 - TBAH: Christmas Arrivals

PROMPT: picking a loved one up at the airport 

This is the last prewritten prompt I have left. So, hopefully, I get my butt into gear and pump out a few more. But, don’t be surprised if these stop. I tried. 

13 days until Christmas. December 12th. 

AO3 - To Build a Home

CHRISTMAS ARRIVALS

There was something oddly comforting about standing at the arrivals gate in mid-December. The airport was packed, filled with excitable relatives as they looked for their loved ones streaming through the doors. Owen was no different, finding himself a centre position between both possible exits. He crossed his arms over his chest and leant back, broadening his shoulders as his eyes scanned the faces moving past him.

He didn’t have to concentrate too hard. Claire’s red hair was always a dead giveaway in situations like these. That, and an internal homing beacon, something completely fictional that had lived inside of him from that fateful day on Isla Nublar. He could always spot her without effort, without strain, he always managed to look at the right time and she was there.

‘Claire!’ He called, raising his arms to get her attention. She had only just walked through the doors, tugging her suitcase behind her, carry-on sitting on top of it. She had been gone three weeks. Three whole weeks and he was losing his mind. His eyes were on Claire now, soaking in her pale skin, dusted with new freckles thanks to the Parisian sun. She looked radiant, tired but glowing as her eyes snapped up and spotted his.

The grin that broke over Claire’s cheeks just about shattered his heart. Owen had never seen joy that pure, drenching a single persons face. She hurried toward him, ignoring the fact that there was a barrier keeping waiting families from the new arrivals. Claire climbed the barrier in an instant, wrapping herself around the man as he squeezed her tightly with both arms. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He breathed against her neck, as he revelled in the weight of her in his arms.

Owen gave it a minute. Releasing one hand from her body as he grabbed the handle of her bag and lifted it over the barrier. Claire was wrapped around him, legs locked behind his back, arms holding tight around his neck. Owen had one hand on her ass as he turned slowly in the crowded space, his other hand pulling her bag behind them.

Claire wasn’t this affectionate, but three weeks away had taken its toll on the both of them. For the first time, since the Indominus escaped a year ago, they hadn’t been separated. When work called, insisting Claire be at a conference in Paris she couldn’t turn it down and Owen was in no position to follow her.

They had promised each other that it would be fine and it was. She actually had a good time, enjoyed herself with the people she was sent with and tried not to linger on the fact that Owen was at home, trying to buy the house they loved. ‘Is there anything in that bag for me?’ He asked, finally setting Claire down on her feet once the warm San Diego air hit her skin. Owen nudged her with his elbow, winking as a sly smile grew across her cheeks. He knew she had gone shopping, knew there was at least one set of lingerie wrapped up neatly in that bag and Owen was thrilled to lay his eyes on it.

‘Anything interesting happen while I was gone?’ She asked, ignoring his question as she pressed her body against his side.

Owen shrugged, looking both ways for cars as they crossed into the parking lot. ‘Nothing exciting.’ He told her, nonchalant as they reached the car, Owen effortlessly lifting her bag into the trailer on his truck. ‘We got the house.’ He told her, eyes focused on the cars behind them, playing indifferent as Claire jumped back into his vision, her body throwing itself at him again.

‘We got the house?!’ She was staring at him wide-eyed, their faces inches apart. Owen had only shown her the old property five weeks ago. They made a move while they had the chance but with Claire overseas, Owen thought it better to surprise her when he finally got the call from their agent.

He nodded, grin wide as he flashed his teeth. Claire peppered his face with kisses, unable to keep her hands and lips to herself as they embraced in one of the airports many parking spaces. ‘Just need you to go down and sign your part of the mortgage tomorrow.’ Claire grinned like the sun radiated directly from her. He missed her smile and the whites of her teeth. He missed how fantastic it was to hold her in his arms, to kiss her, and to surprise her with happy news.

They had lasted three weeks apart without breaking. They survived Jurassic World. They conquered the housing market — in picking a dusty old shell that hadn’t managed to sell itself in a few years. But, they got it anyway. Owen was confident, all else in their favour, things were going to be goo from there on out.

‘I can’t believe we got it.’ She sighed, looking at him with dreamy eyes before she turned to climb into the car.

He took his place behind the wheel, strapping on his seatbelt before visually checking she had done the same. ‘You better believe it, babe. We have a lot of renovating to do.’ He squeezed her hand, right where it belonged in his on the centre console. ‘How do you feel about setting up a tree there? Celebrating Christmas in the new house before we fly out to Madison?’ He asked, desperate to get her within those walls now that it was theirs. She had ideas, Owen knew it, paint and plaster, kitchen counters, bathroom sinks, and walk-in wardrobes. Claire had practically been talking about it in her sleep before she left and Owen was ready to make the house the best Christmas present she had ever received.

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #203 - Jingle Bell Rock

PROMPT:  I thought I was the only one working overtime at the office on Christmas Eve so I was singing Jingle Bells at the top of my lungs incredibly off key while making hot chocolate in the break room but you surprised me and I dumped it all over your pants. hello nice meeting you for the first time lemme dab your wet pants with this napkin AU From this post. 

I used the prompt as a light guideline. 

Also, are we all alive out there? How’re people coping with the trailer? I’m at work all day but my inbox is open. 

16 days until Christmas. December 9th. 

AO3

JINGLE BELL ROCK

The smooth sounds of Bobby Helm drifted from the speakers in the building, filling the empty rooms in the dull light of early morning. Claire was the first one in and ultimately would be the first one out, as she moved about making a coffee in the communal tea room.

The machine whistled, steam billowing from it as Claire waited for the fuel that would get her through the most part of the morning. She snapped her fingers to the song, smile short on her lips, pressing dimples into her cheeks. She hummed freely, knowing she was alone as the song started to leave her lips in full words and her hips started to sway.  

She had woken in a good mood, bright and shiny on Christmas morning, ready to conduct the control room and assure that her park was running smoothly. She volunteered for the operation like she had done every year, keeping the park open on Christmas day so holiday goers could enjoy the festivities. Claire wasn’t one for the bright lights and the shining tinsel. She had drifted so far from her sister and family she no longer felt like there was a place left for her at the table no matter the season. Instead, Claire took a two-week vacation in early November to recharge her batteries before working right through to the New Year often with the skeleton staff.

Claire made sure she was first in, hogging the coffee machine and going over reports as the sun warmed the pavement outside ready for the children and adults who were waiting for a day of thrills. She preferred not to go home, her Christmas joy came out of watching the monitors and making sure everyone was safe. She had a full team Claire trusted year round, but this day was hers to guard and hers alone.

What a bright time, it’s the right time

To rock the night away

Jingle bell time is a swell time

To go riding in a one-horse sleigh

Giddy-up jingle horse, pick up your feet

Jingle around the clock

Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet

That’s the jingle bell,

That’s the jingle bell,

That’s the jingle bell rock.

The song left her, the sound of bells ringing in the speakers as she danced a lazy version of the box step in front of the coffee machine. Her beverage was ready, drink in hand as Claire lifted it to her lips to take a steady, testing, sip when something startled her from behind.

‘Cute.’ A voice announced, relaxed and casual, mirth in the sound of the single word they said. Claire jumped, hands raising, cup moving with it to dump the majority of its contents on her cream shirt, the colour decorated like a Christmas wreath already staining. She thought — no, she knew — she was alone. And yet, when she turned around Owen was leaning on the doorjamb. ‘Still cute.’ He told her with a short laugh before rushing forward, sidestepping her shocked and startled body to reach for napkins. Owen handed her half, using the rest in his hands to remove the mug from her grip and to pat down the coffee dripping down her wrist. ‘I didn’t mean to scare you.’ He told her sincerely, her right wrist in his hand as her left came down to hit him square on the shoulder.

‘Well, you did.’ She glared, not quite meaning it, her eyes soft around the edges as she patted at her shirt, internally praying the light brown colour was going to come out of her shirt. ‘What are you doing up here anyway?’ Claire stepped away from him, tossing her soiled napkins in the trash as she turned back to the coffee machine, intent on getting her fix.  

Owen shrugged, she wasn’t looking at him anyway, too busy pressing buttons on the corporate Nespresso machine as she continued to dap at herself with one hand. In his haste to help Claire, the woman in the middle of scolding herself, Owen had dropped a manilla folder. He had brought it with him all the way from the raptor paddock at 6:30am for the sole purpose of giving it to her.

‘I, ah, was behind on a few reports. Stayed up all night finishing them for you.’ He bent to pick it up, straightening slowly as she turned back to face him, brows knitted together in confusion. Nothing before had ever persuaded Owen to send through his reports on the raptors. Claire had threatened to have the project shut down, his girls put to sleep and Owen fired. All that earned her was Owen’s wrath. To spite her, he withheld his reports but here he was, a thick folder in his hands promising it was all there and up to date. ‘Do you want me to drop by your apartment, pick up a clean shirt?’ The park would start opening soon, she didn’t have the time to step away.

Claire raised a brow. ‘I don’t think I could trust you in my apartment alone.’ Claire smirked, eyes shining.

Owen nodded. ‘True, I’d probably go through all your stuff to find something that’ll persuade you to go on a date with me.’ He told her honestly, meeting her gaze with a sheepish shrug of his shoulders.  

‘Well, in that case, I’ll go get you my keys.’ She nodded towards the door, hands sliding into the pockets of her pants as she swayed in front of the coffee machine. ‘Once this is finished.’ She told him, smile shy and tentative.

He let the silence drift over them, happy to lean against the counter as he tried not to make it obvious that he was watching her. ‘I didn’t know you could sing.’ Owen told her, turning his face in her direction.

‘I didn’t know you were sneaking about the building.’ She answered with a toothy grin, almost winking at him as she teased. Claire took the lead, walking straight out of the tea room as she moved for her office. He followed like a wayward puppy, knowing the direction but happy to bite at her heels as she showed him.

Owen didn’t think she would, but Claire actually handed him the keys to her apartment, easily giving him directions as she explained there should already have been an extra outfit set out on her bed. ‘I didn’t know what to wear.’ She told him truthfully as he gave her a funny smile. ‘And, I swear to god, Owen if you go through my things I will know about it.’ She gave him a gentle threat. He wasn’t going to touch her belongings beyond the skirt and top she said were already sitting on her bed. In and out. No one was to know he had been there, not even Claire but if he stopped to look at the pictures she had hanging on the wall, it wouldn’t do any harm.

‘You can trust my discretion.’ He promised, grin wide and premaritally stuck on his face. ‘And, I’ll take your clothes to a dry cleaner as soon as I can.’ It was the least he could do, Owen hadn’t meant to scare her.

She nodded, letting him turn, her keys rattling in his hand. Owen reached the door before she called out to him. ‘Why aren’t you on leave?’ She asked, IBRIS was an important project but just like everyone else, Owen was entitled to holiday leave. He shrugged, waving her off. He didn’t want to talk about it. ‘Owen,’ she stopped him again as he was trying to make a run for it. ‘Maybe we could have dinner tonight?’

He was trying to play it cool. She could see the corners of his mouth twitch as his eyebrows raised a little. ‘Yeah,’ he stopped, cleared his throat. ‘Yeah, I would like that. I would really like that.’

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #208 - Please Come Home for Christmas

PROMPT: bars at Christmas time

this is somewhat an answer to the trailer bar scene ... but not exactly set in that moment. Also, it’s depressing as hell ... but smutty!! and probably tied to a fic I want to work on. I don’t know what happened here. 

I had a few things in my head when I wrote this. The Eagles ‘Please Come Home For Christmas’, Sia’s ‘Snowman’ and Niall Horan’s ‘Slow Hands’. So have fun with that. 

11 days until Christmas. December 14th. 

AO3

PLEASE COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

The bar was dark, the kind of murky lighting that would have him squinting at the sun if he managed to leave before it set. That wasn’t going to happen today, just like it wouldn’t any other. Owen threw back his beer downing half of it in a second. This was his space, his bar, his new life and he was sitting there waiting for her to ruin it.

She played a good game of innocent, surprised when she walked in the door, her eyes instantly finding him. Claire turned, leaving the building for a whole thirty seconds before she came back in the door and waltzed right for him.

‘Karen set me up.’ Claire offered, coming to a halt at his booth, her hands knotted together as her thumbs fiddled with the thick knotted wool jumper she wore. ‘I just felt like I owed you an explanation.’ She couldn’t look at him … or wouldn’t, Owen wasn’t sure.

Claire was in town for Thanksgiving. He knew she was coming, her nephews had given him the heads up. She just didn’t know that Owen Grady had picked up his life, walked away from her and moved to Madison, Wisconsin.

Karen had bullied her into going on a blind date with her ex-boyfriend. Claire swore, if she knew, she would not have walked into that bar.

‘I didn’t even know you were in town.’ She didn’t know where he went after he packed his things and left. Claire wouldn’t have even been able to guess if anyone asked her. Madison would have been her last idea. She knew her nephews still heard from Owen but had no idea that was because they regularly bumped into him shopping for groceries.  

Owen shrugged. Telling her she didn’t have to leave as he eyed her cautiously. How long had it been? He couldn’t remember. A year now? A little more, a little less. He was trying not to count the days. They had been on fire, burning right through the atmosphere but when they crashed there were no survivors. They destroyed each other and here he was, unsure of the time that passed, his heart beating faster just at the sight of her.

He had missed her and Owen hated himself just a little for that fact.

He called for a beer, Claire protesting the order and levelling him with a look. She hated it when he ordered for her, even when he was right, knowing full well she would drink the Budweiser he had called for. She ordered a bourbon and coke just to spite him, quirking her eyebrow when he gave her a smug look.

Claire crossed her arms over the table of the booth, leaning in as she let a hand play with her glass. He couldn’t see her soft peach tulle skirt anymore, feet tucked into fluffy heeled boots but that didn’t stop him from thinking back to the last time he saw her in something similar. They were love drunk and stupid, lust filled their eyes as an eagerness bit at every touch. Too impatient, buzzed from the alcohol they had been drinking in wait for their friends. Claire had slipped under the dark booth they were sat at, her hands sliding up his thighs as nimble fingers loosened his belt and unzipped his jeans. Her mouth was on him quicker than he could think, blowing him under the table as their friends arrived. Claire was nonchalant when she resurfaced, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, cheeks pink with the alcohol and not the fact that she had been caught sucking Owen’s dick under the table. Or, at the least, it was heavily implied.  

‘What?’ She asked, lip quirking as her cheeks flushed under his scrutiny. Owen shook his head, finishing the rest of his beer before signalling for another. ‘No, tell me what you were thinking about.’ He had a funny way of looking at her, even then, that said his thoughts were in a thousand different places. She could never quite place him, never sit on the same plane as his wandering thoughts. She half demanded him to answer, they had been sitting in near silence for fifteen minutes. She asked him a question and he grunted a small response. Claire was tired of doing all the talking, tired of sitting there awkwardly, tired of feeling how he looked.  

Owen looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept properly in weeks. There was a shine missing in his eyes, quietly there but not as bright as it had once been. Something in her chest pulled. She hated seeing that things weren’t right with him. Claire felt responsible. He was the one who walked out and even though that was the case Claire felt guilty for how it turned out. She could have tried harder.

‘Was just thinking about that last dinner with Barry and the gang in Costa Rica.’ Her cheeks flamed, an instant blush crawling up her neck and across her face.

That was a year ago. Claire had forgotten all about it but now the memory was setting her on fire, emboldening a part of her that should really remain in its lane. Her mind changed in an instant. On second she was ready to bolt, get up and leave the second his hostility reared an ugly head. She hated the words on the tip of her tongue as she tossed back her drink in two easy gulps before she slammed it down on the table. ‘Lets take this back to your place.’ Owen stared at her, eyes wide as he tilted his head.

‘Why?’ It was confusion that asked. Owen didn’t understand what lead the conversation to that place. They loathed each other, they fought and bickered and drove the other away. He left because they didn’t want to do that anymore.

‘Because I’m staying with my sister and I can’t exactly take you there.’ His brows were knitted together. Claire sighed, sound long and heavy as she explained; ‘Sex, Owen. I want to fuck you and I’m not climbing under the table like that last week in Costa Rica.’

‘Claire,’ He sputtered, taken aback.

‘Is that a no?’ She asked, moving to grab her bag.

He laughed, shaking his head as a large hand reached out to stop her. ‘Why are you always so forward?’ Everything was business with Claire, she never stopped or hesitated. She knew what she wanted and she asked for it directly, unashamed.

‘Why are you always thinking about sex but when it’s offered you have to think about it?’ Every part of him ached for her, longing to feel her skin pressed against his once more as his dick throbbed, half hard at the memory and anticipation. Owen didn’t need foreplay when it came to Claire. She was enough to keep him rearing and ready to go. It was some magic spell she held over him, he didn’t exactly hate it. Owen had long since come to terms with the fact that Claire was it for him, the highest star he would reach, the best he could do — the probable love of his life.

Owen’s fingers around her wrist tightened, the man leaning across the table. They locked eyes, holding the other’s gaze. ‘You sure?’ He asked and she nodded quickly, swallowing as she did so. This hadn’t been her intention. She was there, in Madison for the holidays, not to track him down and relive their past. ‘Never did get a final send-off.’ He winked at her, sliding out of the booth as Claire rolled her eyes.

[…]

He didn’t take her by the hand to lead her to his truck. She should have expected the bathrooms, should have been disappointed but his mouth was on her neck, his body flush against hers. He had her backed against the wall in the women’s bathroom. Owen was no fuss, didn’t like wasting time in precious moments.

Every nerve in her body sung like she was home. She was where she was supposed to be, skin tingling in his arms. A large hand slid down her stomach, dipping beneath the hem of her skirt as a thick finger found her wet folds. Claire whimpered, sound a blessing to his ears as her mouth bit kisses down his neck.

She worked her fingers at his belt, freeing him as she popped the button on his jeans and hastily shoved them down his hips. Claire didn’t wait for him to do the same for her. She worked around the hand in her underwear shimming them down her legs, adding to the friction of his thumb on her clit. ‘I need you now.’ She told him, Owen easily taking the hint as he removed his hand. She whimpered at the loss of his touch, instantly regretting the change of her demand.

He only pushed closer to her, large hand sliding up her leg as she tucked it over his hip. Owen slid into her easily, Claire finding her whimper again as he filled her completely. He stilled, giving her a minute until Claire rocked her hips into his. It had been too long between the two of them. This wasn’t even supposed to be happening. She shouldn’t have been there. She should have been nursing a glass of wine with Karen, talking shit as the boys tried to pull out stories from their past.

Instead, she was here with Owen, in a bar’s dark bathroom, their noses pressed together as they whimpered and moaned their breaths intertwining. Claire squeezed her eyes closed, he was too close and all over her. She wanted this, asked for it, instigated it but it was too much. She could feel the emotion building in her throat and the tears burning her eyes. She should have told him about Blue, that one of his girls was still alive. Claire had seen her, a few of the island’s monitors still working. She was part of a task force trying to ensure the animals on the island didn’t come under any undue harm. They were monitoring them, ensuring they were fed and not starving to unnatural deaths. He would have wanted to hear about that. She shouldn’t have let the sexual tension between them burn, flame flickering to life.

His rhythm was wild, no pattern to it as short sharp thrusts were followed by him pulling out of her before slamming back in. She couldn’t hold her breath, easy little sounds leaving her throat with every inward stroke, as her parted lips forgot they were in a public space. Owen pulled out of her, Claire’s body whining and high strung as he turned her, pushing Claire against the cool wall as he entered her from behind. She pressed her cheek to the tile, not thinking about if it was clean or not as she allowed it to soothe her skin, Owen’s hands on her hips steadied her as he slowly slid forward. His hands wandered, one climbing up her hip, finding access under the shirt she wore as it slipped beneath her bra to squeeze the warm skin of her breast in his calloused hand. Claire arched her back, mewling when his thumb rolled over a stiff nipple. She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, telling herself they were back home, in their airy Costa Rican apartment, Owen’s hot mouth hovering over her breast as he pushed in and out of her lazily. She wanted that back, the familiarity, the unnecessary rush and the promise that they had all the time in the world. He caught her off guard when his other hand crept down, middle and index finger brushing over her clit, waiting for a beat before it came back. She gasped, sound sharp, hips bucking as her whimper begged him to do it again.

‘I miss you.’ She broke out when her orgasm snapped, mind foggy and dazed as her body soared before crashing back down again. Claire didn’t think he heard her when he continued to thrust forward, his grunts punctuating each pump. He came hot and messy inside of her, silently as his teeth bit down on her shoulder, one hand still holding tightly to her chest as the other gripped her hip.

Claire turned when he stepped away, her body already missing the way he filled her. She tugged, self consciously on the edges of her sweater as she couldn’t quite meet his eye. ‘Come home?’ She asked, watching his heartbeat beneath his shirt.

Owen bent, sliding his jeans back up his legs as he made quick business of his belt. He didn’t look at her, only sighed, half groaned as he shook his head. ‘Don’t.’ He told her, eyes on her feet where she felt her knees shaking, underwear still hanging around one ankle. He felt like he had defiled her, ruined Claire of her perfect innocence as she shook in front of him, voice wet, arms crossed over her chest. ‘Don’t do this, Claire.’ He gruffed, mad at her for thinking it would be okay to ask him back when she was the one who pushed him away. She couldn’t leave it as long as they had, letting silence sit between them before showing her face, fucking him and asking him to come home. Who did she think she was? How weak did she think he was?

Angry, he stepped around her, pushing through the bathroom door as he let himself out into the bar. Claire didn’t chase after him, she just fell back against the wall, arms tight over her chest. She could feel his cum sliding down the insides of her thighs, hot and sticky as a sob finally broke.

Overheard, the music in the bar changed, loud and rattling moved to something soft and melancholy. The Eagles sang Please Come Home for Christmas and Claire cried harder. She was an idiot. She shouldn’t have listened to Karen or her libido. She should have stayed home. She shouldn’t have sat down and accepted the drink. She certainly shouldn’t have propositioned him when she knew she wouldn’t be able to live with herself afterwards.

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #198 - Charlie and Baby’s First Christmas

PROMPT: baby’s first Christmas 

As you will have noticed by now, there are some kid fics mixed into the rest of the other ‘non-kid prompts’ I am trying to keep it evenly distributed. For now, this is the last of C&E but there is Bernie and Hunter to come as well as a Winnie prompt! 

21 days until Christmas. December 4th. 

AO3 - C&E Index 

CHARLIE AND BABY’S FIRST CHRISTMAS 

‘You got this?’ Owen asked, taking a cautionary look at Claire. She nodded stalemate in place and four-month-old on her hip. This, for Claire, was all a game. Hostess with the mostest over the holiday season.

It was their first year hosting Christmas; their house, their food, their rules. The load itself was taking a toll on Claire but he hadn’t seen her acting like her usual over prepared and controlled self since before Charlie was born. The way she was behaving unsettled him. Claire carried about decorating the house with tinsel and holly, dawning the doors with wreaths and the windows with Christmas lights all while carrying the baby around. He couldn’t remember the last time she had picked their daughter up without being forced in the last two months. Claire had become skittish, unsure, fidgety and impatient. She didn’t want to be left alone with the baby. She didn’t want Owen to trust her with the life they had made. But, given a large number of responsibilities, her childrearing fears took a backseat, allowing Claire to handle her daughter without supervision.

The house was bright and festive, another very un-Claire thing that was starting to make Owen nervous. He was happy that she was occupied, happy that she was holding Charlie, kissing the baby’s cheeks and talking to her in a ridiculous baby voice. He just wished it was a more genuine version of Claire. The real authentic woman he fell in love with, the woman he shared a daughter with, the woman he one day wanted to marry if only she would say yes to his proposals. This Claire played high functioning so well he had moments where he forgot that she was only a shell of a woman who refused to get better.  

The doorbell had rung only moments after Claire gave him her last lunch instructions, the sound chorusing through their home over the light Christmas music that played. Owen had raced ahead of her to reach the door before she could, just so he could ensure she was okay with this.

It hadn’t been Claire’s idea to host Christmas nor was it his and Owen worried it was putting too much pressure on her plate. His mother had argued that it would be easier for them, with Charlie only four-months-old it would be better that people came to them rather than packing their baby into a car and spending a whole day away from home. Everyone was bringing his food, his mother taking control of a big portion of it but Claire insisted they throw a few things together. She wasn’t the cook between the two of them and that sat perfectly fine with Owen, he would happily bake his worries into a pie and feed it to his family over disgruntled looks.

Claire nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t sparkle as she adjusted Charlie on her hip. The little girl dawned in a green dress with easily visible candy cane striped bloomers. She looked adorable, red tuft of hair shining next to her mothers as her little fist yanked at the skirt she wore. Claire ignored their daughter’s fidgeting, her hand smoothing down the soft chord knit she wore over dark jeans. She wouldn’t give him any more than a forced nod, wouldn’t falter or break. Claire was the ultimate professional at masking her feelings and where he thought they had jumped that hurdle she was proving to him that wasn’t the case. He wouldn’t push her now, not with family on the other side of the door. Owen had no choice but to wait until Christmas was over until Claire collapsed in a heap and returned to hiding under her covered apparently not hearing Charlie cry in the room across the hall.

He could do his part in pretending he was happy with that.

With a twist of his wrist and an easy pull, the front door swung open revealing the happy and excited faces of his family. At least their guest numbers were small. Karen was expected in an hour or two with the boys in tow which only meant they had to entertain his parents and sister until she got there.

Entertainment was easy with Charlie who instantly reached her arms for Lorna the second the other woman started to coo, crowding Claire’s space as she slipped the baby from her arms. Pretending to be attentive to her baby was easy when Claire had Owen’s family for company, they were all desperate for Charlie’s attention.  

He missed the busy woman that Claire had been. She was in talked of going back to work early, ending her maternity leave and saving her sanity. Owen had thought it was a terrible idea but seeing her occupied, delegating a big day to small tasks and the guests they had Owen couldn’t help but accept that this was her element and he was proud of her for running it smoothly.

They sat with Charlie on the floor as gifts were handed out, happy smiles shared amongst relatives as wrapping paper and ribbon littered the floor. Owen was glad the presents were finally disappearing, Charlie was gaining quite an interest in them, unable to crawl but easily rolling off her play mat and into the pile sitting under the tree. She had drooled through so many wrapped gifts Claire wasted hours trying to perfect the ribbon on their immaculate gifts for the second and even third time.

It all lay to waste now, scattering their living room as her nephews grinned over video games and new tech Owen almost as giddy as them to rip into remote control cars in the driveway once gifts were done. There was one for Owen, too, sitting in the cupboard Claire well aware that he would hog the boys’ gifts and need one for himself.

Charlie, unable to sit up unassisted was perched in her father’s lap, cooing at herself as her toothless gums gnawed on her little fist. They were throwing wrapping paper for her amusement, Gray, sitting next to Owen, the first to start it realising how much the little girl giggled at watching the shiny paper fall to the floor in front of her. They all followed suit, one after the other tossing the paper in the baby’s direction as Owen scrunched it up in his hands, letting the girl revel in the sound. She had only let out a disgruntled squawk when her father wouldn’t let her grasp the paper herself, fearful that she would shove it in her mouth and choke.

Claire was half hiding behind him, thigh pressed to Owen’s as she sat beside him. She was self-conscious of the cameras pointed towards her, Heather and Karen trying to catch every moment of Charlie’s first Christmas so Owen and Claire didn’t have to. So they could be in the pictures rather than taking them.

‘Its been a big day.’ Owen half yawned, pulling their bedroom door shut as he stepped further into the room. Claire was curled easily in the middle of the bed, already dressed in her pyjamas, Charlie tucked into her arms as she held a bottle to her daughter’s lips. They were both exhausted, Charlie’s eyes already closed as Claire’s lids drooped barely able to concentrate on the child in her arms. ‘How’re you feeling?’ He asked, gently lowering himself to the mattress beside her. Claire hummed, voice small as she shuffled closer to him revelling in the warm feeling of his arms around her. ‘You going to be okay with Charlie in here tonight?’ His question was filled with concern, eyes on his sleepy daughter lazily suckling at her bottle.

Karen and the boys were spending the night to save themselves the long drive home. In an effort to make them comfortable Owen offered Karen the daybed in Charlie’s nursery allowing her space to herself so she didn’t have to share with the boys in the guest room and no one was left to sleep on the floor or the couch.

They wheeled Charlie’s crib out of the nursery, Owen cocky as Claire rolled her eyes. She had thought the wheels were impractical, that they would never need them and could buy a different crib. Finally, Owen was proving her wrong. It was only for a night but Owen was worried about the impact it would have on Claire. She was likely maxing her ability to fake it and things were bound to come crashing down.

‘You did so well today.’ He kissed the side of her head fondly. ‘You didn’t have to put on a show.’ Owen didn’t exactly want to call her out but he didn’t want to pretend like it was normal, nor did he want her to think she got away with it.

Claire shook her head, tilting her chin to look up at him. ‘I just wanted the holidays to be normal.’ Everyone in attendance that day knew she was struggling with Charlie, knew that her heart and mind were in two places no matter how hard she tried to bring them together. They all knew. She didn’t have to keep it a secret from them but she wanted normal, happy, family pictures and memories to look back on regardless of the fact that Charlie wouldn’t remember any of it. Claire wanted to be able to say she was there, present, helping Owen with their daughter like any partner should.

She was trying and Owen could be thankful for that.

He kissed the side of her head again. ‘Want me to take her?’ Charlie’s bottle was empty, little girl practically snoring with her head tilted as far back as it would go against her mother’s arm, little mouth open like she was still a milk drunk newborn. Claire nodded, letting him lift the girl from her arms slowly as he crawled off the bed in an expert manoeuvre he had pulled off too many times to count.  

Charlie remained sleeping as he lowered her into her crib, arms raised above her head as he slipped his hand from her back and waited for a beat to ensure she was settled. Ever the absolute dream; Charlie slept through everything. He wasn’t worried that she would wake.

‘She’s getting big so quickly.’ Claire mused, sitting upright in the middle of their bed, her hands wound around her ankle as she watched him. ‘I’m missing it.’

Owen shook his head. ‘You’re right here. God, I swear some days I blink and she’s gained a few more pounds, or she’s doing something new that she couldn’t do ten seconds before.’ He tried to ease her fears, knowing what she was feeling was common and Owen needed Claire to know that. ‘I, ah, I asked Karen to get me something.’ Owen started, changing the conversation as he pulled a box out of the dresser. ‘Its yours but I wanted to give it to Charlie … or get one similar for her.’ He handed Claire the box wordlessly allowing her to open it to reveal the small size adjustable bangle. ‘I know you don’t want to perpetuate gender stereotypes … I swear if we have a son, I’ll get one for him too.’ There was no way they were having more kids. Charlie was only four-months-old and Claire was struggling, a second no matter how far down the line was virtually impossible. He made the promise anyway.

He couldn’t exactly put words to why he wanted his daughter to have the little silver bracelet, an item that was already too big for her little wrists but that would grow with her from her first birthday to her fifth. Claire had mentioned it when she was pregnant, commenting that she couldn’t remember where the small bracelet ended up when her mother died.

‘I want her to have it.’ Her eyes were fixed on the item, fingers gently prying it from the box. Claire’s full name and date of birth were engraved in the metal, shining up at her with memories of her childhood. ‘Make it an heirloom.’ She flipped the band, showing him there was space for Charlie’s name.

The girl, in her crib, grunted, making soft noises in her sleep as Owen grimaced, moving quickly to switch off the light as he joined Claire in bed. ‘Something tells me she’s going to object to jewellery.’ Just like their four-month-old loathed the dress she was wearing. Owen shrugged, it wasn’t going to be the worst thing that happened and if their daughter rejected silver and gold it kept the money in his pocket and not around her neck. Claire already cost him too much in delicate earring and necklace sets.

‘Get some sleep, the boys want a Grady Breakfast Bonanza in the morning … I need you by my side.’ He kissed her cheek fondly, Claire rolling her eyes as he settled between the sheets.

‘You guys better not eat until you’re sick this time.’

Owen chuckled, arms wrapping around her middle as he pulled her into his chest. ‘Oh babe, that’s exactly how it will go down.’    

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #197 - Snow Fight

PROMPT: we were playing in the snow and you suddenly tackled me to the ground and now ... we're just staring ... at ... each other ... (I got the prompt from this post) 

22 days until Christmas. 3rd of December. 

I don’t know about you but all my online orders are starting to arrive! 

You still have plenty of time to send me your name and address for a Christmas card. 

AO3

SNOW FIGHT

When he followed her to Madison a full twelve months after The Incident Claire knew what they had was more than friendship. He had to harbour the same feelings she was denying and either didn’t know how to broach the subject or didn’t want to. Claire knew it was the former. He would not have stuck around if he wasn’t madly pining for her, hoping if he hung around long enough that they would just trip and fall into a relationship.

He stayed in San Diego, bought an apartment not far from hers and took up a measly job despite Claire knowing he had better offers on the other side of the country. For a year, they spent nearly every day together, running, getting lunch, Owen popping into her new office, or spending the evening and his apartment while he cooked her dinner. It was unsurprising that her employees were shocked to hear he wasn’t her boyfriend.

She spent the whole morning ignoring Karen’s knowing looks. Rolling her eyes at her sister when she playfully asked why they weren’t sharing a room. She near insisted that they share when Owen sputtered and failed to answer but a sharp look from Claire told her sister to drop it.

The boys were all over him the second he walked in the door, Gray practically climbing the man as Zach played it cool. They had lured him quickly into stockpiling snacks and hiding out in their games room PlayStation controller in hand. They disappeared until dinner, leaving the sisters to taunt each other as Claire sighed over newly acknowledged feelings.

Karen had always loved Christmas from the time she was a little girl right up to having her own children. The boys knew the truth now, no more magic of Santa Claus as they tore into presents right before lunchtime on Christmas morning. She was still one for the snow and real pine trees, she baked all weeks, cookies and puddings and ham in all kinds of ways. Carols were constant from the 1st of December playing in her house and car until the end of Christmas Day. It was no different when Claire was there and when she wasn’t but it had been so long it felt like a warm and familiar welcome sitting in her sister’s pine smelling home soaked in cinnamon and baked goods. Everything was red, green, gold and white her ornaments were old dating back to their grandparents as they hung gently from the tree.

She had been hesitant to come, to spend the weekend doing as they had done when they were girls. Claire didn’t think that part of her still existed but Owen was adamant that the carefree Claire was still there and begging to come out. She didn’t believe him. Not completely. Christmas was a time for family and Claire had long since let that part of herself lie dormant. She felt out of touch in her sister’s home, awkward and a little uncomfortable despite being reconnected for a full year.

Fresh snow fell overnight, the boys practically tripping over themselves to get to it. They crushed the snow between their gloved hands, packing it into round shapes before they piffled it at each other. Owen was right there with them, egging the boys on as he took a few pelts. Karen and Claire watched from the windows in the kitchen, shaking their heads as they heard the boys shriek.

Claire had gone out to call them in when Owen snuck around behind her. ‘You wouldn’t hit your aunt now, would you?!’ Owen taunted the boys, his arm wrapped tight around Claire’s middle as he used her as a human shield.

‘No fair!’ Gray called back, hiding behind a tree, a stack of snowballs by his feet.

‘Claire won’t save you!’ Zach taunted back standing in clear view, his arm arched back and ready to throw. Claire warned Zach that if he hit her with the goddamn snowball in his hand, she would take back every gift with his name on it under the tree. At the same time, Zach swung his arm forward, flinging the snowball right towards Owen and Claire.

She shrieked, pulling her body one way as Owen tried to move in another. They weren’t in sync, the two adults falling as they tripped in the snow, connected bodies moving in opposite directions. Owen was stronger than she was, despite pulling away he had her centre of gravity. They tripped, both of them unbalancing the other as Owen fell on his back in the snow, Claire quickly tumbling after him.

Neither of them moved, both of them frozen in place their breath caught in their lungs. She was staring, her eyes caught on his face in close proximity, her skin tingling here her body touched his. All Claire could think about was their spar of the moment kiss, that heart-stopping moment in the middle of a chaotic day. Her eyes flickered towards his lips, her mouth open and breathing shallow. The whole world had stopped, Owen’s chest sturdy beneath hers and her hips cradled between his thighs.

‘Do you guys need a minute?’ Zach teased, walking past them as the smell of breakfast finally called him inside.

Claire tried to clamber away from Owen’s body, only causing herself to fall into the snow once he relinquished his hold. ‘There’s a hotel 10 minutes from here if you guys need some time.’ Karen teased, her laughter loud as she watched their blushed cheeks. ‘Just don’t do it in my house, okay?’

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #196 - Christmas Gala

@cali-forniacationn : Claire and Owen go to the company’s Christmas gala for the first time as a couple

23 days til Christmas. 2nd prompt. 

As you will notice, I am posting this per AEST so it will be out of sync for a few of you. 

AO3

CHRISTMAS GALA

Claire Dearing was trying to teach herself not to expect it.

At the end of every year, starting in November, they embarked on a six-week gala spree. Owen had come to shower her with gifts at that time. He draped her in sparkling jewels on the evening of their first outing every year since the beginning. It was hard to not expect his entrance into their bedroom, box in hand, glee in her chest. She knew one year he would stop, simply forgetting or realising it cost far too much to bath her with diamonds and gemstones. Owen insisted he never would.

She heard his groan as he entered the room, Claire bent over her vanity dressed in nothing but a lace number and stockings. He should have known to expect that as much as she knew a jewellery box would be in his hands. ‘Here’s an idea,’ He stepped into position behind her, hands sliding around her waist as his chin found purchase on her shoulder. ‘We don’t go to the party and stay in instead.’ His lips found the sweet spot behind her ear, teasing her mercilessly.

Claire hummed, ‘And miss out on a funding opportunity? No way.’ She shook her head, turning within his embrace to kiss him softly, her fingers sliding across his cheeks. ‘You work too hard at that zoo to miss this and funding for the girls.’ She was his magician, Owen had to admit it, setting off her magic in a crowd of investors. Everyone wanted to talk to her; the excuse of Jurassic World long behind them, her beauty and charisma the main attraction now. With Claire alone, Owen managed to rake in more funding than he could have potentially dreamed on his own. He never set out to use her like that, she just did it on her own, introducing herself via association charming investors so much so that they were sending money his way because they admired her so much.

‘I guess you’ll need this then.’ He pulled a box from his pocket, placing it in her open palms as he kissed her collarbone, lips trailing south as he dropped to his knees. Claire didn’t realise what he was doing until she popped the box open, Owen leaving a wet kiss on her stomach as his hands found the unclasped clips of her garter and promptly attached them to her stockings.

‘Owen.’ His named dropped from her lips soft and surprised. The box held a single ring, white gold band supporting a radiant diamond. It sparkled at her in the light, dazzling the woman who looked upon it.

She barely paid any notice to Owen, on his knees in front of her. ‘Yes, it’s an engagement ring.’ He knew she would ask. ‘I was kind of hoping you’d maybe want to be my wife one day.’ He couldn’t help the lopsided smile that graced his cheeks as he watched her. She stared at the ring with her lips parted, just enough to see the ends of her teeth. When he did speak her eyes snapped from the ring to him and back again.

‘I -‘ She started before stopping. He had managed to slide it right under her nose, Claire none the wiser half expecting earrings or a different sort of ring. She didn’t think he would propose. ‘We’re going to be so late.’ She sighed in wonder, Owen’s hands tugging at her hips gently. She dropped to the floor, landing in his lap as he took the box from her gently.

‘Is that a yes?’ He asked with a smirk, ring pulled from its cushion as he moved to slide it on her finger. Claire only managed a nod, her free hand cupping his cheek as her lips found his skin. ‘Are you still sure you want to go to the gala?’ He asked in mirth as his mouth chased hers, Claire peppering kisses across his face.

[…]

It was almost as though the whole room knew the second they stepped through the door. Holding her clutch between her hips, wrists touching, Claire felt as if she was exposing the new item on her hands, the pose natural as they broke into the room, only ten minutes late.

Owen’s boss was the first to realise, giving them half an hour before he invaded their space. The man already knew, had done so for months since Owen first told him that he was looking at rings. He just didn’t know when the younger man was going to propose. ‘I suppose it’s better that he get in now before he wraps it for Christmas.’ Brandon had teased, kissing Claire’s cheek fondly as he clapped his favourite employee on the back. Claire disappeared shortly after Brandon had, giving her fiancee a simple peck before she moved to mingle with his colleagues and potential investors.  

He could watch her do what she did at that time of year for hours, weaving her way in and out of peoples lives as she graced their arms softly and bid a sweet hello. This wasn’t the same Claire he knew on the island, at least what he thought he knew of her. She was personable and approachable, investors adored her. She just didn’t know how to be like that when she wasn’t trying to milk money out of someone. Unless she was with Owen.

There was someone in each new group who noticed the sparkle on her finger, women bowing to admire the stone he had painstakingly picked out, as they grinned and gleamed about future plans. She wandered back towards him after some time, easing herself into the conversation he was apart of. Claire fit easily against his side, his hand resting on her waist, thumb stroking the fabric of her dress.

‘I’m glad you finally put a ring on that woman, I was worried I would have to do it myself if you left it any longer.’ Brandon, Owen’s boss, laughed, beer in hand as he grinned at the happy couple, Claire’s thumb rolling her engagement ring around her finger. It had taken Owen three years to work up the courage to ask that question, let alone buy a ring. It was done now, stone on her finger,  their whole sphere happy for them. ‘Who needs yet another gala night for investors? We should have made tonight an engagement party!’ He cheered as Claire happily shook her head.

They weren’t big fuss people. Claire donned expensive gowns and sparkling jewellery for the events that called for it. She was just an attendee, not the organiser. Never would they pick to have such an occasion just for themselves. ‘I, however, would like to dance.’ She turned to Owen, smile dazzling as his hand on her hip squeezed his answer.

He did as she asked. He would always do as she asked. Owen had to omit that the trash would remain indoors on days it shouldn’t, his jobs and duties forgotten for an afternoon but he was willing to do whatever it took to be no less than perfect for her. If she wanted to dance, he would dance. If she wanted quiet, he could be quiet. He would spend his days echoing her needs, fulfilling them as well as he could.

‘Why don’t we -’ Her voice was low, fingers toying with his collar, eyelashes batting softly as she looked him in the eye. ‘ - Get out of here early.’ All eyes were on them, faces Owen knew and ones he didn’t. Claire hated the limelight as much as she loved it. Eyes watching them, even with smiles, screamed the days after the incident. She didn’t like the attention, could never pick exactly what it was for. Reasonably, she knew nobody was watching them in particular, just looking about at the couples gliding across the floor.

His proposal had lit a fire in her belly, one that had teased her warmly all night until this moment. Now she just wanted to take him home and let him appreciate the lingerie she had painstakingly put on.