finalflight | 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.

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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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[And with that, what control he still had completely and thoroughly slips through his fingers.

He does more than fall off the edge, he plummets over it. The pleasure that rocks his body is so intense and mind-blowing, that his final thrusts to coincide with it are made in forceful finality. His back arches some, and he closes his eyes, as the final throes of rapture overcome him. He groans her name one final time, the loudest of all.

And then moments pass in silent bliss, his breathing heavy. James remains unmoving, but his muscles begin to relax again, and he opens his eyes to gaze down at Devon. She's absolutely glowing, he thinks.]

[Damn. Just. Damn.

Devon lays beneath him, her chest moving up and down as she winds down from their love making, trying to make sense of everything that just happened. Well, she knows, but... It's like she'll remember everything, every touch, every kiss, every thrust, the way James called out her name, with picture perfect detail, but at the same time, it's all a blur as well. Her eyes are closed and her breathing is steadily becoming more relaxed.

She feels... Weakened. She hadn't noticed how much physical exertion they had both applied and... Her face is flushed thinking about how caught up in the moment she was and now that it was all over she can barely move.

Her hair, had at some point, become loosened from its bun and is strewn all over the pillows. With James looking down at her, Devon slowly reaches with one hand to stroke his cheek and then his hair.]

... Hey.

[It's all she can muster right now, but she smiles at him, tenderly, lovingly. He gave her a wonderful first time and it certainly won't be their last.]

[When the euphoria begins to bleed away, James is left with a quiet but tired feeling of content that he hasn't experienced in a long while. Like her, his breathing becomes calmer, his heartbeat slowly and becoming steady once more. His own hair, usually perfectly tended to, is a bit mussed in a few spots. He doesn't notice, and he certainly doesn't care.

Devon reaches up to brush at his cheek, and he smiles down at her.]

Hey.

[He lingers like he is for a second or two longer, before kissing her lightly on her forehead, and finally shifting off of her. He settles directly next to her instead, his sense of humor draining back into him as he rides the endorphins that had flooded his body.]

The best bath I've ever taken.

[Devon lets out a laugh despite how weak she feels and then makes a grab for the sheets and blankets beneath them so that she can snuggle underneath them, making sure that James gets covered up too.]

Really? Glad I could deliver then.

[He finds himself under the blankets as well with no complaints. He shifts his weight to face her more properly, finding the softness of her pillow compelling.

He just returned to the estate, but he's not against taking a nice long nap. When is he ever?]

We should do it more often.

[She rolls on her side to face him and when he makes his suggestion her face turns red despite everything.]

I... Well.

[Her shoulders shrug, but it's not as if she's opposed to it. There's a lot more to look forward to after all, more moments to have just between them. She feels tired, but elated from her first time, wanting to stay awake just to look at him, but also fine with falling to sleep as long as he was there in front of her.]

Does this mean I have to visit your room next?

[He arches a brow at her, his usual smugness settling in, though there's a fondness to his words.]

Mm, I don't know. Do you think you can handle it?

[Devon hums and reaches up to drag her index finger down the side of his face until it settles on his lips.]

It sounds like you're giving me a challenge.

[His sleepy, somewhat sly grin doesn't falter. His lips brush against her finger as he speaks.]

I figured you'd like a good challenge.

[She smiles tenderly at James, reaching over to take his hand so it can cup her face.]

... Thank you for waiting. For me.

[He's quiet for a moment, before responding.]

You don't need to thank me, Devon. You were worth every second of the wait.

[It's incredible really. He's incredible. Her heart swells with warmth, but she can't put words to it. Devon closes her eyes, just focusing on his hand on her face.

And then.]

Can you believe I actually considered waiting until the actual wedding was done and over with?

[Her grin is wicked and mischievous when she reveals her original intentions.]

[He scoffs in both disbelief and fake(???) horror.]

What? That's latching at least another year onto it, you know.

I could afford it.

[Says the girl who initiated this in the first place.]

You could, perhaps. You and your innocent, virginal self, who didn't know any better. [He's joking, of course. Mostly.]

I think you would have driven me mental, though, if you had made me wait that long.

Luckily for you, I got impatient first, hm?

[She can't help herself and gives him a light kiss on his lips.]

[He returns the kiss, though it's interrupted by his light laughter.]

Thank god for character flaws, hm?

psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

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