psl; [a marriage of inconvenience]

[hedgemaze]

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.

Comments

[hedgemaze]

[He hears a knocking at his door, and immediately James lowers his book, glancing over at the entrance to his room. He arches a brow, unsure who would be knocking at his door at night. One of the staff? His father? (Or could it be...?)

He doesn't straighten, still lounging on his bed, only willing to change his demeanor when he knows who's at his door. He, on the other hand, is in his night clothes -- but that's hardly a point of embarrassment for him.]

It's unlocked. Come in.

[winterheart]

[A pause. The door creaks open far enough so that Devon can poke her head in part way, her dark eyes scanning the room before resting on James. It's a good way to mentally prepare herself for...

What. What is she even worried about? She's just visiting.]

Hi.

Can I come in?

[Easy as that.]

[hedgemaze]

[Well, then.

James pauses, wondering how to proceed with this situation. Because Devon, inviting herself into his room in this late at night, while he's lounging in his bed? Can you hear the gears turn in his head as he debates with himself whether he should act the gentleman (because surely she's oblivious), or have a little fun with the situation.

(And let's be real, his libido is nudging him towards the latter.)

He gives her a smile, putting the book down next to him, and straightens a bit. Lungs and throat be damned, he's going to cheat a little and use the control over his body to temporarily feel better, if he has to. If that's what the night would call for.]

Of course you can. You're my fiance, aren't you? [This will be fun.] Close the door behind you, if you don't mind.

[winterheart]

[And oh, so obliviously, does she come inside and closes the door behind her as he asks. Devon's dressed in jeans and a chamois shirt and her hair, is in a braid. Her apprehension has disappeared since the only thing she was mildly concerned about was being turned away in the first place. But how lucky, that isn't the case right now.]

Heard the asthma as bothering you.

[And without any hesitation, she sits at the foot of his bed, hands resting on the mattress on her sides.]

So I decided to visit to make sure you haven't keeled over.

[hedgemaze]

[Look at her, already moving to the foot of his bed without him even having to ask. You're making this too easy for him.]

I'm very much alive, sorry to disappoint. [He gives her that crooked grin of his, gesturing with one hand at his chest.] It takes more than a lack of proper oxygen to kill me. Besides, it isn't bad today; it'll pass, like all things. And that's what lounging in bed and reading is for -- to pass the time until the morning comes.

[He can think of other ways to pass the time, too, but he bites his tongue. Too early, too early.]

What about you? Been sleeping all right?

[winterheart]

Like a baby.

[None the wiser... That's basically Devon right now because to her, this is the equivalent of visiting someone when they're sick. The fact that this could be construed as something else entirely especially since they were an engaged couple does not occur to her whatsoever.

She smiles back at him, legs dangling from the bed.]

The servants have been nice enough to remind me to lock my door up in the evening. Someone's gotta keep me in check after all.

[hedgemaze]

[He makes a "hm" noise, deciding to move his book to the nightstand beside him.] Well, when I'm here, I don't mind taking on that role. I can keep you in check well enough, make sure your door is locked, et cetera. Check up on you at night, like you're doing with me.

[He pats at the empty space next to him (), inviting her to sit next to him; much like a fly to a spider's web, but throwing her off with relatively casual conversation.]

How's the cut on your face? Come, let me see.

[winterheart]

Oh, that?

[You know, it doesn't help that she doesn't see him for days at a time and they hadn't started to really interact meaningfully until a month ago. Her sense of danger towards the atmosphere around James is seriously dull.

So scooting over to the spot he pats at, she points at the thin pale line on her cheek, the scar left over from the incident.]

It's almost all gone. No one notices it anymore and I don't either.

And it's just a small cut. Nothing to get worried about.

[hedgemaze]

[God, a part of him wants to laugh as she fills the empty space next to him, on his bed. She really was an oblivious woman, wasn't she? That, or she didn't think much of him in way of being an adult male with certain inclinations towards the female kind -- especially someone who he's going to be wed to, in the future. To James, that's already opened a lot of doors that would otherwise have remained closed with a woman he's only known for a short period of time.

And so he reaches over with his hand, gently turning her head in his direction and running a thumb over that faint line of a scar. He leans in, slowly, prepared to judge her reaction -- and to act accordingly.]

You're right... it seems to have healed up fine.

[And now that he has her where he wants, he has to tease her with that smile of us, and a tone that matches.]

You know, I wonder, is coming here because you were worried the only reason?

[winterheart]

[... Okay? Is what Devon is thinking when he turns her head and leans in. Something is happening to her that hasn't happened in a LONG time and it's... Damn it, that voice? That smile? It's one relentless thing after another that makes her heartbeat ramp up and, and...

She leans back and uses one hand to gently, gently put his hand, the one on her face down, replying back as levelly as she can.]

I'm trying to be... Courteous? I mean, on the weekend that you're home and not feeling well, it'd be kind of mean if I didn't come to see how you were doing.

[YEAH THAT'S RIGHT]

[hedgemaze]

[The disadvantage of being this close to James? Is the fact that he can read her emotions quite easily, and he's eager to pick up on them; he feels an tinge of anxious excitement, the feeling of her heartbeat speeding up ever so slightly... and it only encourages him. His hand is gently swept away, but he doesn't put any extra space between them because of it.]

How kind of you. You know, I've been thinking, maybe I should return the favor. Make sure you're feeling well every night... that you're not too cold, or too lonely.

[His face is close, and his eyes lock with hers. In fact, the hand that was swept away is reaching over to lightly touch her waist.] What do you think about that?

[winterheart]

Funny you should mention that...!

[Devon turns her head (to avoid that gaze because it's making her nervous) to glance at the door... Oh shit, she closed it didn't she? She's definitely startled by the hand around her waist and one hand moves up to press against his chest as if trying to make some space and failing miserably at it.]

I wasn't really worried about that to begin with?

Uh, James? You're feeling well, right? [THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THIS IS ABOUT]

1/2

[hedgemaze]

[That hand against his chest doesn't manage to push him away as much as she would like. James can already tell that this isn't going to go anywhere, not really, not with her so oblivious and so nervous -- but teasing her would be fulfilling enough, and maybe enough to get it into her head that someday, if she ever feels so inclined, that he'd be eager to keep her warm on any cold nights if she asked. (Maybe he would ask her to, later down the line. It would be a nice end to his "dry spell".)]

I'm feeling much better now that you're here.

[Her turning to look at the door has left her exposed in one very important way, and James bites at his lower lip a bit before closing the space between them a bit more fervently this time, before she can say otherwise.]

[hedgemaze]

[In fact, he's so adamant about doing so that he makes sure that his lips brush against her neck, right against her jawline. It's a kiss, light and teasing. Tantalizing. And when he speaks, surely she can feel his breath on her skin.]

Though I'm sure you can make me feel even better if you really tried.

1/2

[winterheart]

[Heat shoots up her spine so quickly just from the touch of his lips on her neck. Something's been awakened in Devon and it's terrifying for reasons she can't put words to and all she's aware of his the warmth of him being close to her, his breath, and everything he does that tells her he wants her.

A faint moan escapes from Devon and her hand on his chest curls up into a fist, trying to steady herself. Did she want him to stop? To not? What should she do next?]

[winterheart]

James.

[Devon, somehow in the middle of this rising heat between them, is able to find her composure again (although if he reads her emotions, they're still anxious, still excited, but there is an understated streak of fear mixed in there). Feeling comes back to her hands after initially being overwhelmed by that attack and they make their way to the sides of James face, cupping him in her hands so that she can pull back just a bit.]

Are you asking me for something in particular?

[hedgemaze]

[James is pleasantly surprised that she manages to regain her composure. For a moment there, he was nearly certain that she was going to melt like butter for him. Regardless, he can feel her emotions still, and while James certainly wouldn't mind fooling around (or more), he won't force her to do anything she's uncomfortable with. He can disregard others' emotions in many ways, but he's not one of those men. He isn't that oblivious.

Beyond teasing her, he won't really push her. James would want her to want him, too.

His gaze is steady as she cups his face.]

I'm asking nicely for you to sleep with me. Does the idea of it upset you?

1/3

[winterheart]

[winterheart]

[Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.]

done

[winterheart]

[She takes. A DEEP BREATH. Hands move to his shoulders. And very plainly and bluntly she makes it clear...]





I'm a virgin.

1/3

[hedgemaze]

[James... blinks at her. One might imagine a record scratch sfx taking place right about now.]

[hedgemaze]

...Ah.







Well.

[This obviously requires a response with some serious consideration behind it.]

done

[hedgemaze]

We can fix that right now, if you like.

[HE CAN'T HELP HIMSELF, this is actually kind of amusing now??? She's so innocent! It's a bit endearing.]

[winterheart]

[There's a slight scowl from Devon and she lightly flicks James's forehead.]

What are you, a caveman? Cut me some slack here?

[hedgemaze]

[Ow, he says, as she flicks at his forehead. He straightens, finally giving her a bit of space, but that grin and that look is still on his features.]

You said yourself that you were attracted to me. Through our texts, remember? Are you saying that the thought of sleeping with me doesn't appeal to you at all?