ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴀᴜʙᴇʟ ǝɹnʇɐǝⅎ ǝɹnʇɐǝɹɔ ǝɥʇ (
hedgemaze) wrote in
finalflight2016-11-30 10:45 pm
Entry tags:
psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

THE AUBEL ESTATE is located in Derbyshire, England, a stately old home reminiscent of centuries long past. Long ago, it had fallen into disrepair and abandoned until previous generations of the Aubel family purchased the land for themselves, having found their fortunes in matters of real estate. Since that time, the outside has been restored and the inside has been renovated at least three times. Four, if you ask the uncle who remembers the one summer where the chandelier fell from the dining hall, taking a large portion of the ceiling with it. How embarrassing, if such a thing is true.
In its present state, it straddles the line between the old and new. The large, prominent rooms are ostentatious as they are filled to the brim with austere English culture; the smaller quarters, traditionally used by the servants and staff, are far more modest, and over time have allowed the tendrils of modernity to creep in as a result. Regardless, the home is impressive no matter how you look at it, and there are few who do not cast an envious glance at the estate as they pass by Derbyshire on their way to town, or perhaps northwest to Manchester, if they've even farther to go.
PHILIP AND JAMES AUBEL, father and son respectively, are the owners of the home, though only the father remains for any extended period of time. And even then, he only stays perhaps one or two seasons at a time, until he returns to his home in London, spending one or two seasons there, before returning again, living out his life of retirement to the fullest. James visits nearly every week (driving in from Manchester, and back) in the Spring, until the first freeze of Winter, when nothing will grow. Though they have a staff of two dozen -- give or take, depending upon the time of year -- taking care of the estate and its grounds, James is more diligent about keeping up appearances of the house, showing a special interest in maintaining the complex hedge maze on the land directly behind them. Only he keeps access to its center, a literal walled garden of seasonal flora.
AS RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WOULD HAVE IT, James has been drawn into an arranged marriage by his father and an old business acquaintance. She is scheduled for an extended visit soon, and the staff have done a meticulous job of preparing the hall for her arrival -- and the rest of the rooms, as well, if she is expected to make her living here permanent, one day. Today, the weather is clear and the help is eager to aid her in unpacking. The grounds are green and the family dog, an old greyhound with cataracts in one eye, bounds up to her with a slow wagging tail. The father will greet her, of course, with all the usual formalities, and though he doesn't know her all that well at all, she at least seems nice enough. He disappears soon after, leaving her to her own devices as she sees fit. James himself is nowhere to be found.
Somewhere, sooner rather than later, a collision course of first impressions will take place.
D I R E C T O R Y;
➤ shitpost.
➤ first impressions.
➤ diamonds.
➤ text her, texter.
➤ saviour.
➤ flirt.
➤ closer.
➤ cross-examine.
➤ PARTY CRASHERS.
✶ elle + devon
✶ elle + corvus
✶ ian + james + corvus
✶ devon + james
➤ alien abduction.
➤ sleep now.
➤ bathe.
➤ remember.
➤ drink.
➤ welcome home.

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He's already taken the initiative, you see. James is dressed only in a pristine white towel, taken from his own bathroom, wrapped neatly around his waist. He walks up to her bathroom door, rapping his knuckles lightly on it.]
I hear Candy Crush in there.
[And he faint scent of lavender, too? Ah, what thought she's put into this little endeavor of theirs.]
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[Goddammit, she almost dropped her phone into the water. She closes the app and pulls up some serene piano jazz music instead. Putting the phone on a safer ledge, away from the tub, and to steady herself, she grabs the neck of the wine bottle next to her.]
Uh, c'mon in. Just keeping the water warm in here.
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Walking in, he gestures at his surroundings.]
You've put a lot of thought into this, haven't you? I'm flattered.
1/2
[... Oh. He only has a towel. Around his waist.]
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I'm about to open this up and chug half of it right now.
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Let's not be hasty. You have to save some for me, too, you know.
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Okay. Deep breath Devon. Which is exactly what she does. And then she leans her forehead against James' chest.]
Sorry. For being so nervous and skittish I mean.
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He can't help but grin, despite himself.]
Don't apologize. [His teasing tone dissipates for something more sincere.] We don't have to do this if you've changed your mind, you know. I'd understand.
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I brought wine into the bathroom. I'm past the point of changing my mind as an option.
... I'll go in first. We're gonna catch a cold at this rate.
[She lets go of the bottle and turns around letting out another puff of breath. Her back is to James as the towel slips off. Her form from behind is slender and willowy and her hair, tied up in a bun lightly sways along with her movements as she steps into the tub.
Well, all bets are definitely off now; she really is keeping her word.]
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When she steps into the tub, James focuses on pouring the wine. Give her a few moments to settle in, and possibly relax before he has to remove his own towel.]
I see you went for the expensive stuff this time. [As if any of the wine in the Aubel estate isn't expensive.
Wine poured, he sets the bottle down and hands her one of the glasses.]
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I did try to find something cheap, but they all ended up costing more than the total sum of my art supplies. And that's saying something.
[She takes a sip and the wine warms her insides as well.]
Hey, when I sent you the text, did you think I was trying to mess with you at first?
[Keeping the conversation casual so she isn't overtaken by weird feelings when he takes off his towel of course.]
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I did. But I wanted to be safe -- and admittedly, a little sly -- by simply accepting your offer rather than questioning it.
[He turns to her, grinning, (and, oh, by the way, removing his towel now) and picking up the glass of wine again.]
Appears to have worked in my favor, one way or another.
[He's going to work on slipping into the tub now, wine glass delicately balanced in one hand. Enjoying the view, Devon?]
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Yeah. Well.
Here we are a few months later. Weird how things work out, huh?
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[He's slid into the water now, on the opposite side of the tub from her. (For now. He intends to close that space soon.) He holds out his wine glass, offering a toast.]
To us.
[He notes to himself how flush her cheeks already look, but doesn't say anything about it yet.]
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To us it is.
[She takes one more sip and then decides she's depending too much on it and puts the glass behind her before sinking into the water a bit more.]
... I kind of got the idea of the bathtub because I realized I haven't used it at all since I started to live here.
[She stretches her arms upwards and some bubbles slide downwards.]
But then I decided it wouldn't have been fun to just enjoy all of it by myself.
Which is funny, because before I got engaged to you, relationships were the last thing on my mind, admittedly.
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Have no doubt that James is examining every curve of her body that she reveals to him through the bubbles, but he's very subtle about it. He even continues casual conversation with noticeable ease.]
I find it hard to believe that the notion didn't cross your mind occasionally?
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[Good ol' Dad. Devon tilts her head to examine James in return. God, what kind of roulette was her life on to be able to be with him like this.]
I don't think I would have liked any of the guys I met as much as you anyways.
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[That's the kind of answer he likes to hear, and if he were to be honest, it makes him feel warm inside for reasons that are not the wine.
Speaking of wine, he's setting down his glass at the edge of the tub now. He locks eyes with her, his grin becoming a tad mischievous.]
Do you like me enough to let me get closer, right now?
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She's quiet for a few second before she nods not once, twice, but three times. She'll even hold out her hand, beckoning him to come to her.]
Yes. Yes, I do.
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[That's all the invitation he needs. He slides over to her, closer, breaking through a few island of bubbles, only to slip an arm past her back and curving around her torso.
Oh, and there's the little thing of him brushing his lips against her neck, too. Light, teasing kisses.]
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She had been mentally prepared for his touch, for the distance between them to be closed, but when his lips tease her neck it causes a muffled moan to escape, an embarrassing noise she didn't think she'd make so quickly. It's a noise that bounces somewhat off the walls of the tiled bathroom, causing a rush of heat to her face, spreading to her shoulders.
There's a sharp intake of breath from Devon and her hands fall to her side at her first. Instead of resisting him this time, she turns ever so slightly so that he's allowed to explore the rest of her neck freely. What she's feeling is very easy to take in; anticipation, a steadily rising lust, the need to give affection back even if she's hesitant because of her possible clumsiness.
Both of her hands are on his shoulders and they proceed to rub them, gently at first and then they run down the rest of his arms.]
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And unlike before, her hands come to rest on him now, slowly massaging his shoulders, then down his arms. The water is warm, but James has to fight back a shudder that threatens to travel down his spine at her touch. Her closeness is inviting, and he presses against her just a little more -- close enough to move his lips up to her earlobe, still teasing, nibbling.
He stops just long enough to say in a breathy half-whisper,] Still nervous?
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His question gets through to her as her hands find their way to his chest and she speaks, her voice sounding more airy, dream-like even.]
Yeah, but...
[She finds it in herself to return some of his teasing with a kiss against his jawline as her hands move to his back, drawing him closer so her body can press up against his.]
I'm okay. I'm nervous, but... It's good. I feel good.
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(She may be able to tell how his breath hitches in his throat, though, the way his heart beats just a little faster.)
Their bodies are close, now, there's no space left between them. His hand that isn't at her back slides under the surface of the water, and finds purchase on her torso. He takes in her curves as she kisses at his jawline, fingers sliding down and lightly pressing against her hip.]
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Nn.
[This was uncharted territory now. The kissing, the teasing, she understands and enjoys, but this was admittedly nerve wrecking. But Devon wants to move forward. And she speaks up so James can know.]
Keep touching me.
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