Fic: RPF: Say Goodbye (21/26).
Feb. 24th, 2009 09:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_moonshine_xTitle: Say Goodbye (21/26).
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.
Warnings: Real person fiction.
Word count: 1,499.
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 21 – Playing House
Date: Monday 24th July 2011
Location: Notting Hill, London, England
Stepping through the front door, Emma found her gaze instantly drawn to the stained glass window in the kitchen and the way the patterns of light shining through it bounced off the counters in rainbow colours. The estate agent she had followed inside was waving his arms around, pointing out the flats many features, but she found herself transfixed.
She already knew that she wanted it. She didn’t need to hear his sales pitch. She’d take it, no questions asked, the price be damned.
Located above a small antique toy dealer in Portobello Road with a bright blue door and a wonky brass number seven upon it, she had found the home of her dreams the moment she laid eyes upon it. She had been walking back into town after visiting Rupert at the time, shopping as she went, when she noticed the “For Sale” sign fixed to the wall. Passing it by was completely out of the question.
So, here she was – here they were – perusing with the intent to buy.
In the kitchen, beneath the cupboards, hung several blue and white striped mugs, each that little bit more well loved than the last; chipped bottoms and handles that would surely fall off if you put them to their intended use. Whoever lived here presently and would be handing the keys over to her, cared more about the flat being a home than a fashion legacy that was for certain.
Behind her she heard Rupert clear his throat and as he placed a hand to the base of her back to gently urge her further inside, she looked back to him and smiled brightly. ‘It’s perfect, isn’t it?’ she asked hastily.
He shrugged nonchalantly, his arms sliding around her waist once the door had closed and resting his chin on top of her shoulder. ‘If it’s what you want, Em,’ he responded.
Emma nodded, turning back to the estate agent who had stopped talking a moment ago. He was now, in fact, staring at them both, mouth agape and hands spread wide as though he’d cut himself off mid-sentence. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t clocked Rupert’s presence on the curb outside earlier, he’d obviously just failed to put two and two together and a real life Ron and Hermione snuggling right in front of you would come as quite a shock to anyone who didn’t know already.
They were out, just not in the throw it in everyone’s face sense like most couples were these days. Privacy was important, so they had decided together not to flaunt the relationship. Emma had never been particularly camera shy, but she knew that Rupert wasn’t keen, so they met somewhere in the middle. If they got snapped out in public together they’d deal with it, but they didn’t actively go out and try to be seen.
‘Can we see the bedroom, please?’ she asked with an encouraging smile.
The estate agent did a double take but led them through all the same, pointing out various things as they walked around. A walk in wardrobe and en-suite bathroom the particular selling points, although you never could say no to a nice dido rail.
Rupert stayed close behind her, making comments and observations every now and then, but letting her do the majority of the talking. She appreciated the fact he wasn’t trying to stick his nose in even though they both knew he’d more than likely be spending quite a bit of time there.
After a few more minutes of idle banter, the agent left them alone to explore on their own and Emma immediately turned to Rupert, barely able to contain her excitement. ‘I want it!’ she exclaimed, clapping her hands together and seeing to it that she failed completely in containing anything. ‘This place, it’s just me, everything about it.’
He laughed, reaching out to examine one of the chintzy curtains hanging in the living room. ‘So tell him that, not me,’ he said. ‘It’s your decision, Em, I already said that.’
Taking a breath, mainly to brace herself for what would be one of the biggest decisions of her life, she stepped closer to Rupert and placed a kiss to his cheek. Startled, he glanced up and she smiled at him, murmuring, ‘Thank you… your support means the world to me, but I’m going to have to get rid of those curtains, sorry.’
Another laugh and he let go, brushing his hands down on his jeans and stepping away from the window. ‘Yeah, OK,’ he muttered, faking upset. ‘I think I can deal with that if you promise to keep the 70s carpet.’
‘Deal!’ She beamed at him and then, throwing caution to the wind, flung her arms around him in a bear hug, practically knocking him to the floor in the process. ‘I love you, don’t ever forget that, OK,’ she responded honestly, swaying a little on the spot as the intensity of the situation began to make her light headed. Breaking away again as the agent wandered in sheepishly, she took another breath to calm herself and said quite confidently, ‘So… where do you want me to sign?’
-
Settling down, legs curled beneath herself and a large mug of hot chocolate in her hands, Emma sighed happily and glanced around her new home.
She’d come in twenty minutes ago, toed off her ballet pumps, changed into her pyjamas and decided to spend the evening relaxing with several episodes of Friends. Rupert would be stopping in shortly (he’d been filming all day), and then perhaps they could order Chinese and watch a film instead. Lately they’d learnt to just be and for that she was very thankful.
Of course it helped that neither of them were swanning off up and down the country at all hours right now. But then, Emma was buying her time, jumping in headfirst when it came to finding a suitable job was completely out of the question. She’d figure it out in the end; she just knew it would take longer than it had taken both Rupert and Dan.
A knock at the door signalled Rupert’s arrival and a moment later he poked his head into the flat, grinning at her. ‘Hungry?’ he questioned.
Emma perked up, hopping up from where she was sat and following him into the kitchen. She soon discovered he had stopped in at Sainsbury’s on his way home and picked up enough to conjure up some Jamie Oliver style masterpiece. ‘You’ve been filming all day and you still want to cook for me?’ She grinned. ‘This is one of those moments where my mum would tell me you’re a keeper.’
Shrugging, he offered her a small smile as he reached up for a knife, murmuring, ‘Your mum already knows that.’
‘That’s true,’ she responded, pulling herself up onto the counter to watch him at work. ‘I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you, Rupes.’
‘You were you,’ said Rupert, gaze drifting to hers.
Emma dipped her head down, anxiously tracing her fingers back and forth the leg of her jeans as her heart did that annoying flippy thing it always did around him. ‘What? Prissy and annoying? I don’t think that’s it to be honest…’ she whispered, joking with him.
Looking back at her, pausing with a wooden spoon poised over his pan, he frowned. ‘You’re not, you’ve never – OK, maybe not never – but you’re not prissy, definitely not now at least.’
‘And you’re a good liar, Rupert Grint.’ She laughed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘Can I taste?’ she added, pointing to his spoon.
Rupert smiled, extending the spoon toward her and she leant in, closing her eyes as she savoured his cooking. Heaven, simply heaven. He certainly was a keeper alright. She’d waited forever for someone like Rupert to come along, yet there he’d been all along and she’d been too ignorant to even notice.
‘Good?’
‘Mmhmm…’ Emma’s response ended up as a giggle and she shook her head, averting her eyes a second or two. ‘How long is it going to be, I’m starved?’ Pull yourself together girl. ‘I can set the table if you like…’ She didn’t really want to set the table, she was merely trying to distract herself and save him having to suffer her watching him the whole time, common courtesy really. No one could ever criticise her on manners, it would be impossible.
Stopping what he was doing for a second, he put the spoon down and reached for the bag he’d placed on the floor. He soon produced a bottle of white wine and held it out to her with a hopeful smile. ‘Does this help?’ he asked.
She beamed, stretching up onto her tiptoes and kissing his cheek softly. ‘It’s perfect, you are absolutely perfect!’
‘You give me way too much credit,’ Rupert argued feebly.
Her comeback was quick and accompanied by a smile, ‘I don’t give you anywhere near enough.’
.x.
Author:
x_moonshine_xPairing: Rupert/Emma with slight Dan/Bonnie.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person fiction.
Word count: 1,499.
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 21 – Playing House
Date: Monday 24th July 2011
Location: Notting Hill, London, England
Stepping through the front door, Emma found her gaze instantly drawn to the stained glass window in the kitchen and the way the patterns of light shining through it bounced off the counters in rainbow colours. The estate agent she had followed inside was waving his arms around, pointing out the flats many features, but she found herself transfixed.
She already knew that she wanted it. She didn’t need to hear his sales pitch. She’d take it, no questions asked, the price be damned.
Located above a small antique toy dealer in Portobello Road with a bright blue door and a wonky brass number seven upon it, she had found the home of her dreams the moment she laid eyes upon it. She had been walking back into town after visiting Rupert at the time, shopping as she went, when she noticed the “For Sale” sign fixed to the wall. Passing it by was completely out of the question.
So, here she was – here they were – perusing with the intent to buy.
In the kitchen, beneath the cupboards, hung several blue and white striped mugs, each that little bit more well loved than the last; chipped bottoms and handles that would surely fall off if you put them to their intended use. Whoever lived here presently and would be handing the keys over to her, cared more about the flat being a home than a fashion legacy that was for certain.
Behind her she heard Rupert clear his throat and as he placed a hand to the base of her back to gently urge her further inside, she looked back to him and smiled brightly. ‘It’s perfect, isn’t it?’ she asked hastily.
He shrugged nonchalantly, his arms sliding around her waist once the door had closed and resting his chin on top of her shoulder. ‘If it’s what you want, Em,’ he responded.
Emma nodded, turning back to the estate agent who had stopped talking a moment ago. He was now, in fact, staring at them both, mouth agape and hands spread wide as though he’d cut himself off mid-sentence. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t clocked Rupert’s presence on the curb outside earlier, he’d obviously just failed to put two and two together and a real life Ron and Hermione snuggling right in front of you would come as quite a shock to anyone who didn’t know already.
They were out, just not in the throw it in everyone’s face sense like most couples were these days. Privacy was important, so they had decided together not to flaunt the relationship. Emma had never been particularly camera shy, but she knew that Rupert wasn’t keen, so they met somewhere in the middle. If they got snapped out in public together they’d deal with it, but they didn’t actively go out and try to be seen.
‘Can we see the bedroom, please?’ she asked with an encouraging smile.
The estate agent did a double take but led them through all the same, pointing out various things as they walked around. A walk in wardrobe and en-suite bathroom the particular selling points, although you never could say no to a nice dido rail.
Rupert stayed close behind her, making comments and observations every now and then, but letting her do the majority of the talking. She appreciated the fact he wasn’t trying to stick his nose in even though they both knew he’d more than likely be spending quite a bit of time there.
After a few more minutes of idle banter, the agent left them alone to explore on their own and Emma immediately turned to Rupert, barely able to contain her excitement. ‘I want it!’ she exclaimed, clapping her hands together and seeing to it that she failed completely in containing anything. ‘This place, it’s just me, everything about it.’
He laughed, reaching out to examine one of the chintzy curtains hanging in the living room. ‘So tell him that, not me,’ he said. ‘It’s your decision, Em, I already said that.’
Taking a breath, mainly to brace herself for what would be one of the biggest decisions of her life, she stepped closer to Rupert and placed a kiss to his cheek. Startled, he glanced up and she smiled at him, murmuring, ‘Thank you… your support means the world to me, but I’m going to have to get rid of those curtains, sorry.’
Another laugh and he let go, brushing his hands down on his jeans and stepping away from the window. ‘Yeah, OK,’ he muttered, faking upset. ‘I think I can deal with that if you promise to keep the 70s carpet.’
‘Deal!’ She beamed at him and then, throwing caution to the wind, flung her arms around him in a bear hug, practically knocking him to the floor in the process. ‘I love you, don’t ever forget that, OK,’ she responded honestly, swaying a little on the spot as the intensity of the situation began to make her light headed. Breaking away again as the agent wandered in sheepishly, she took another breath to calm herself and said quite confidently, ‘So… where do you want me to sign?’
-
Settling down, legs curled beneath herself and a large mug of hot chocolate in her hands, Emma sighed happily and glanced around her new home.
She’d come in twenty minutes ago, toed off her ballet pumps, changed into her pyjamas and decided to spend the evening relaxing with several episodes of Friends. Rupert would be stopping in shortly (he’d been filming all day), and then perhaps they could order Chinese and watch a film instead. Lately they’d learnt to just be and for that she was very thankful.
Of course it helped that neither of them were swanning off up and down the country at all hours right now. But then, Emma was buying her time, jumping in headfirst when it came to finding a suitable job was completely out of the question. She’d figure it out in the end; she just knew it would take longer than it had taken both Rupert and Dan.
A knock at the door signalled Rupert’s arrival and a moment later he poked his head into the flat, grinning at her. ‘Hungry?’ he questioned.
Emma perked up, hopping up from where she was sat and following him into the kitchen. She soon discovered he had stopped in at Sainsbury’s on his way home and picked up enough to conjure up some Jamie Oliver style masterpiece. ‘You’ve been filming all day and you still want to cook for me?’ She grinned. ‘This is one of those moments where my mum would tell me you’re a keeper.’
Shrugging, he offered her a small smile as he reached up for a knife, murmuring, ‘Your mum already knows that.’
‘That’s true,’ she responded, pulling herself up onto the counter to watch him at work. ‘I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve you, Rupes.’
‘You were you,’ said Rupert, gaze drifting to hers.
Emma dipped her head down, anxiously tracing her fingers back and forth the leg of her jeans as her heart did that annoying flippy thing it always did around him. ‘What? Prissy and annoying? I don’t think that’s it to be honest…’ she whispered, joking with him.
Looking back at her, pausing with a wooden spoon poised over his pan, he frowned. ‘You’re not, you’ve never – OK, maybe not never – but you’re not prissy, definitely not now at least.’
‘And you’re a good liar, Rupert Grint.’ She laughed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. ‘Can I taste?’ she added, pointing to his spoon.
Rupert smiled, extending the spoon toward her and she leant in, closing her eyes as she savoured his cooking. Heaven, simply heaven. He certainly was a keeper alright. She’d waited forever for someone like Rupert to come along, yet there he’d been all along and she’d been too ignorant to even notice.
‘Good?’
‘Mmhmm…’ Emma’s response ended up as a giggle and she shook her head, averting her eyes a second or two. ‘How long is it going to be, I’m starved?’ Pull yourself together girl. ‘I can set the table if you like…’ She didn’t really want to set the table, she was merely trying to distract herself and save him having to suffer her watching him the whole time, common courtesy really. No one could ever criticise her on manners, it would be impossible.
Stopping what he was doing for a second, he put the spoon down and reached for the bag he’d placed on the floor. He soon produced a bottle of white wine and held it out to her with a hopeful smile. ‘Does this help?’ he asked.
She beamed, stretching up onto her tiptoes and kissing his cheek softly. ‘It’s perfect, you are absolutely perfect!’
‘You give me way too much credit,’ Rupert argued feebly.
Her comeback was quick and accompanied by a smile, ‘I don’t give you anywhere near enough.’
.x.
