Fic: RPF: Say Goodbye (15/26).
Dec. 28th, 2008 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_moonshine_xCatching up 'cause I forgot to post these here.
Title: Say Goodbye (15/26).
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_moonshine_x
Pairing: Rupert/Emma with slight Dan/Bonnie.
Rating: R (for later chapters).
Warnings: Real person fiction.
Word count: 1,572.
Summary: For some, coming to the end means having to say goodbye. For others, the end is only just the beginning.
Previous Chapters: Here.
Say Goodbye
Chapter 15 – Best Served Cold
Date: Friday 1st July 2011
Location: The Ivy, London, England
Emma perked an eyebrow. ‘Fish and chips?’ she questioned, turning her head so she could establish whether Rupert was actually being serious or not. She sincerely hoped he wasn’t. ‘You’re going to order fish and chips after I went to the trouble of booking us a table?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ He lowered his menu and returned her intent stare, taking her quite by surprise. ‘It’s on the menu.’
In fact, she didn’t have an excuse for her outrage, she’d just hoped for a civilised evening for once. A few fancy frills, several drinks and pleasant company throughout – the opposite side of the table excluded of course – which in her book, meant no takeaway food of any sort and perhaps a bottle of champagne.
‘No, wait, don’t order that!’ Aimée snatched the menu from his outstretched hands, leaning in closer and pointing to something Emma couldn’t make out from this distance.
Rupert laughed and she felt the familiar twang of jealously pull at her heartstrings. Her idea to throw Aimée and David together didn’t exactly seem to be going to plan so far and she wondered whether tonight was even worth it in the long run. She felt left out in the cold as Aimée did her very best to keep her boyfriend’s attention firmed fixed on only one person, that person being herself of course. Emma didn’t stand a chance.
‘What are you having then?’
She blinked, not expecting to be spoken to so suddenly, and then cleared her throat. ‘I don’t know, steak maybe…’ she stammered.
‘Hmmm, extravagant,’ came the comment from her left and she looked over to witness Rupert trying – but failing – to hide a smirk.
’Shut up you,’ she murmured, aiming a carefully timed slap in his direction and catching his arm. ‘It’s better than fish and chips.’
‘I’m having sausage and mash now,’ he responded lightly, his eyes glinting playfully as he handed his menu over to the approaching waiter.
Shaking her head, Emma stifled a laugh and reached out for her wine, sipping slowly. He would never change, something that she couldn’t help but love about him. He was always so relaxed, so normal and she adored the way he could just carry on like nothing had changed in his life. Forget the fact he was a famous film star, forget the fact he was a millionaire, all Rupert wanted to do was go and spend Sunday afternoon playing golf and enjoying a pint at the nineteenth hole.
He was the type of guy who would go trekking through the woods with the dogs, getting covered in mud from head to toe and he really wouldn’t care about it. That wouldn’t ever change. His brother was the same of course with his BMXing. It ran in the family, they were all completely carefree all of the time, every moment of the day. Nothing fazed them; everything was a new experience to be discovered.
‘Did you want some of this?’
David was poised with the bottle of wine hovering over Aimée’s glass, and Emma glanced up just in time to see the other girl push it away and reach for the water jug instead. Rupert appeared not to have noticed, but Emma couldn’t ignore the fact she had and narrowed her eyes slightly. She hoped that didn’t mean what she thought it meant; Aimée usually drank like a fish.
Pushing the thought aside, she sighed lightly and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, watching the idle banter between David and Rupert. They’d fallen into a conversation ten minutes ago and done so quite easily. She should have been doing the same with Aimée, but couldn’t bring herself to take that step; it wasn’t as though they had anything in common.
By the time their food was brought to the table, Emma was beginning to feel nicely inebriated thanks to two glasses of wine and a sniff of the whisky David had decided to splash out on. This prompted some wild story involving a thirty-year-old cognac and Amy Winehouse – no one really seemed to understand the connection, even after he’d repeated himself three times, but giggling and tittering ensued anyway.
She decided to ignore him in the end and turned her attention to eating, completely oblivious to the fact Rupert had been watching her for the last ten minutes, his own meal forgotten. Aimée was picking at hers, face considerably paler than earlier and sipping on her water more often than not, eyes downcast.
They must have seemed an awfully strange group to be sitting together all things considered.
Emma only snapped back to reality when she heard Rupert ask, ‘Was that supposed to be a joke?’
David was looking flustered as he began to play with his dessert spoon, stammering out his reply with all the charm of a five-year-old. ‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ he muttered. ‘Some people just have no sense of humour.’
This statement was rather ironic as Emma had always considered Rupert to be one of the funniest people she knew. Admittedly, some didn’t get his jokes, but he had an extremely dry sense of wit, which she adored. David fell into the same category as Dan; he made people laugh, sure, but sometimes he didn’t know when to stop and it started getting a little silly.
‘Perhaps you needed to be there,’ she commented lightly, which earned her a broad smile from the redhead on her left.
David snorted indignantly and reached for the dessert menu, while Aimée proceeded to pat his arm in a mock ‘there there’ gesture, battling with a grin and another bout of laughter.
Dessert consisted of ice-cream sundaes and Aimée managing to get cream all over her nose. She spent a moment trying to get Rupert to remove it for her, but in the end he simply lobbed a handful of napkins in her direction and continued eating, glancing from time to time in Emma’s direction (although the latter, she didn’t notice).
Whoever said romance was dead?
Several minutes later, Emma decided to excuse herself and made a dash for the bathrooms. She took a while to touch up her make-up, staring into the mirror as she toyed with a blusher brush, sweeping the bristles over her cheekbones mindlessly. The point was that she hated Aimée for having everything she wanted and tonight was only making things worse.
This wasn’t a competition anymore; it was a waste of time…
‘Emma? Can I talk to you for a minute?’
Emma spun around to find Aimée hovering in the doorway looking rather sheepish, an anxious smile on her face. ‘Sure.’ She gave in easily, turning her attention back to putting her make-up on and letting the other girl talk. ‘What’s up?’
Aimée pulled herself up to sit on the sinks, her gaze fixed firmly to the wall opposite. She swung her legs back and forth for a while, clearly having trouble with what she was about to say.
‘I know how much Rupert means to you,’ she said eventually, which took Emma by surprise causing her to drop her mascara wand with a clatter. ‘So, seeing as you guys are so close, I thought you could maybe help me with figuring something out.’ She smiled hopefully and then continued, ‘Has he ever mentioned the possibility of us getting married to you?’
Again, taken my surprise, Emma spun around suddenly and almost poked herself in the eye with her eyeliner. She cursed softly and began to rub at the smudge, muttering, ‘Why? Are you?’
‘Oh, no, I wanted to know, that’s all,’ said Aimée, biting on her lip. ‘Can you keep a secret?’
She took one look at the other girl, and then shoved all of her make-up into her bag once more, deciding that she most definitely didn’t want to know. ‘I’d really rather not have to actually,’ she murmured kindly. ‘I’m sure whatever you want to tell me is really wonderful, but tell it to your real friends.’
Aimée frowned. ‘I’d like for us to be friends someday, Emma,’ she responded. ‘You and Rupe are so close and-’
Cutting her off with a sigh, Emma shot an apologetic smile in the other girl’s direction. ‘But he loves you,’ she said, resisting the urge to say ‘so you keep saying’ instead. ‘Surely that’s more important,’ she added.
She seemed to think this over a moment and then shrugged. ‘I think I want some coffee,’ she mumbled, slipping down off the sinks and heading for the doors. ‘Coming? David looked as though he was ready to take you home.’
Emma resisted the urge to gag and merely laughed, following the other girl out into the restaurant, sliding back in beside Rupert and wishing for a moment she could just cling onto him for dear life and never let go again. Right now though, it was a silly dream, which she’d known for a while. Rupert was too afraid to hurt people’s feelings and Aimée had her claws dug in too deep. Tearing them apart was a technical impossibility at this moment in time and one she hated having to get used to.
‘Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the Paris Hilton story…’
And that was all it took for her to forget again, they were in fits of laughter seconds later and David was ready to leave, his inane sense of humour lost on everyone.
.x.
Title: Say Goodbye (15/26).
Author:
x_moonshine_xPairing: Rupert/Emma with slight Dan/Bonnie.
Rating: R (for later chapters).
Warnings: Real person fiction.
Word count: 1,572.
Summary: For some, coming to the end means having to say goodbye. For others, the end is only just the beginning.
Previous Chapters: Here.
Chapter 15 – Best Served Cold
Date: Friday 1st July 2011
Location: The Ivy, London, England
Emma perked an eyebrow. ‘Fish and chips?’ she questioned, turning her head so she could establish whether Rupert was actually being serious or not. She sincerely hoped he wasn’t. ‘You’re going to order fish and chips after I went to the trouble of booking us a table?’
‘What’s wrong with that?’ He lowered his menu and returned her intent stare, taking her quite by surprise. ‘It’s on the menu.’
In fact, she didn’t have an excuse for her outrage, she’d just hoped for a civilised evening for once. A few fancy frills, several drinks and pleasant company throughout – the opposite side of the table excluded of course – which in her book, meant no takeaway food of any sort and perhaps a bottle of champagne.
‘No, wait, don’t order that!’ Aimée snatched the menu from his outstretched hands, leaning in closer and pointing to something Emma couldn’t make out from this distance.
Rupert laughed and she felt the familiar twang of jealously pull at her heartstrings. Her idea to throw Aimée and David together didn’t exactly seem to be going to plan so far and she wondered whether tonight was even worth it in the long run. She felt left out in the cold as Aimée did her very best to keep her boyfriend’s attention firmed fixed on only one person, that person being herself of course. Emma didn’t stand a chance.
‘What are you having then?’
She blinked, not expecting to be spoken to so suddenly, and then cleared her throat. ‘I don’t know, steak maybe…’ she stammered.
‘Hmmm, extravagant,’ came the comment from her left and she looked over to witness Rupert trying – but failing – to hide a smirk.
’Shut up you,’ she murmured, aiming a carefully timed slap in his direction and catching his arm. ‘It’s better than fish and chips.’
‘I’m having sausage and mash now,’ he responded lightly, his eyes glinting playfully as he handed his menu over to the approaching waiter.
Shaking her head, Emma stifled a laugh and reached out for her wine, sipping slowly. He would never change, something that she couldn’t help but love about him. He was always so relaxed, so normal and she adored the way he could just carry on like nothing had changed in his life. Forget the fact he was a famous film star, forget the fact he was a millionaire, all Rupert wanted to do was go and spend Sunday afternoon playing golf and enjoying a pint at the nineteenth hole.
He was the type of guy who would go trekking through the woods with the dogs, getting covered in mud from head to toe and he really wouldn’t care about it. That wouldn’t ever change. His brother was the same of course with his BMXing. It ran in the family, they were all completely carefree all of the time, every moment of the day. Nothing fazed them; everything was a new experience to be discovered.
‘Did you want some of this?’
David was poised with the bottle of wine hovering over Aimée’s glass, and Emma glanced up just in time to see the other girl push it away and reach for the water jug instead. Rupert appeared not to have noticed, but Emma couldn’t ignore the fact she had and narrowed her eyes slightly. She hoped that didn’t mean what she thought it meant; Aimée usually drank like a fish.
Pushing the thought aside, she sighed lightly and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, watching the idle banter between David and Rupert. They’d fallen into a conversation ten minutes ago and done so quite easily. She should have been doing the same with Aimée, but couldn’t bring herself to take that step; it wasn’t as though they had anything in common.
By the time their food was brought to the table, Emma was beginning to feel nicely inebriated thanks to two glasses of wine and a sniff of the whisky David had decided to splash out on. This prompted some wild story involving a thirty-year-old cognac and Amy Winehouse – no one really seemed to understand the connection, even after he’d repeated himself three times, but giggling and tittering ensued anyway.
She decided to ignore him in the end and turned her attention to eating, completely oblivious to the fact Rupert had been watching her for the last ten minutes, his own meal forgotten. Aimée was picking at hers, face considerably paler than earlier and sipping on her water more often than not, eyes downcast.
They must have seemed an awfully strange group to be sitting together all things considered.
Emma only snapped back to reality when she heard Rupert ask, ‘Was that supposed to be a joke?’
David was looking flustered as he began to play with his dessert spoon, stammering out his reply with all the charm of a five-year-old. ‘Well, I thought it was funny,’ he muttered. ‘Some people just have no sense of humour.’
This statement was rather ironic as Emma had always considered Rupert to be one of the funniest people she knew. Admittedly, some didn’t get his jokes, but he had an extremely dry sense of wit, which she adored. David fell into the same category as Dan; he made people laugh, sure, but sometimes he didn’t know when to stop and it started getting a little silly.
‘Perhaps you needed to be there,’ she commented lightly, which earned her a broad smile from the redhead on her left.
David snorted indignantly and reached for the dessert menu, while Aimée proceeded to pat his arm in a mock ‘there there’ gesture, battling with a grin and another bout of laughter.
Dessert consisted of ice-cream sundaes and Aimée managing to get cream all over her nose. She spent a moment trying to get Rupert to remove it for her, but in the end he simply lobbed a handful of napkins in her direction and continued eating, glancing from time to time in Emma’s direction (although the latter, she didn’t notice).
Whoever said romance was dead?
Several minutes later, Emma decided to excuse herself and made a dash for the bathrooms. She took a while to touch up her make-up, staring into the mirror as she toyed with a blusher brush, sweeping the bristles over her cheekbones mindlessly. The point was that she hated Aimée for having everything she wanted and tonight was only making things worse.
This wasn’t a competition anymore; it was a waste of time…
‘Emma? Can I talk to you for a minute?’
Emma spun around to find Aimée hovering in the doorway looking rather sheepish, an anxious smile on her face. ‘Sure.’ She gave in easily, turning her attention back to putting her make-up on and letting the other girl talk. ‘What’s up?’
Aimée pulled herself up to sit on the sinks, her gaze fixed firmly to the wall opposite. She swung her legs back and forth for a while, clearly having trouble with what she was about to say.
‘I know how much Rupert means to you,’ she said eventually, which took Emma by surprise causing her to drop her mascara wand with a clatter. ‘So, seeing as you guys are so close, I thought you could maybe help me with figuring something out.’ She smiled hopefully and then continued, ‘Has he ever mentioned the possibility of us getting married to you?’
Again, taken my surprise, Emma spun around suddenly and almost poked herself in the eye with her eyeliner. She cursed softly and began to rub at the smudge, muttering, ‘Why? Are you?’
‘Oh, no, I wanted to know, that’s all,’ said Aimée, biting on her lip. ‘Can you keep a secret?’
She took one look at the other girl, and then shoved all of her make-up into her bag once more, deciding that she most definitely didn’t want to know. ‘I’d really rather not have to actually,’ she murmured kindly. ‘I’m sure whatever you want to tell me is really wonderful, but tell it to your real friends.’
Aimée frowned. ‘I’d like for us to be friends someday, Emma,’ she responded. ‘You and Rupe are so close and-’
Cutting her off with a sigh, Emma shot an apologetic smile in the other girl’s direction. ‘But he loves you,’ she said, resisting the urge to say ‘so you keep saying’ instead. ‘Surely that’s more important,’ she added.
She seemed to think this over a moment and then shrugged. ‘I think I want some coffee,’ she mumbled, slipping down off the sinks and heading for the doors. ‘Coming? David looked as though he was ready to take you home.’
Emma resisted the urge to gag and merely laughed, following the other girl out into the restaurant, sliding back in beside Rupert and wishing for a moment she could just cling onto him for dear life and never let go again. Right now though, it was a silly dream, which she’d known for a while. Rupert was too afraid to hurt people’s feelings and Aimée had her claws dug in too deep. Tearing them apart was a technical impossibility at this moment in time and one she hated having to get used to.
‘Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the Paris Hilton story…’
And that was all it took for her to forget again, they were in fits of laughter seconds later and David was ready to leave, his inane sense of humour lost on everyone.
.x.
