x_moonshine_x (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
x_moonshine_x) wrote2009-04-21 12:34 am
x_moonshine_x) wrote2009-04-21 12:34 am
Entry tags:
Fic: RPF: Say Goodbye (24/25).
Title: Say Goodbye (24/25).
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: 1,800.
Summary: For some, coming to the end means having to say goodbye. For others, the end is only just the beginning.
Previous Chapters: Here.
A/N: After a short inward debate with myself, this fic will be 25 chapters now, instead of 26. I was spreading myself too thinly.
Say Goodbye
Chapter 24 – Moving On Is Hard to Do
Date: Thursday 3rd August 2011
Location: Notting Hill, London, England
The pictures were what hurt the most. Aimée’s bloodshot eyes and the way she had her hands up, attempting but failing to hide her face from the paparazzi’s prying lenses, her body language so guarded, desperate for them to leave her in peace. Break-up aside, he couldn’t deal with seeing her that way and as soon as Emma left the flat the following morning, Rupert had been straight on the phone to see if everything was OK.
An hour later, after hanging up again, he’d crawled back into bed, feeling almost as bad as he had the moment he found out. Somewhere deep inside, a part of him had died along with his baby.
It took another six hours before he built the strength to move from the comfortable confinements of his bed and even then he merely sat on the couch, sipping from a mug he’d managed to salvage from the wreckage and stared into space. He had no idea how long it would take him to get over this.
For two days, the TV, couch and more coffee than he could sensibly comprehend were Rupert’s salvation. He didn’t have the energy to move any further than the bathroom.
A visit from James broke the vicious cycle and he was faced with the prospect of stepping back out into the big bad world. He was ushered into the bathroom, forced to shower and shave, and then had a pile of clothes thrown at him, with one simple instruction, ‘Sort yourself out!’
Upon switching his mobile phone on an hour later, he found ten unanswered text messages from Emma as well as several voicemails.
Is everything ok? Call me. Em xxx
I’m worried. Don’t make me come round. Em xxx
Pls reply, Rupes. Ilu. Em xxx
Rupert frowned, deleting each message in turn, his heart heavy. He couldn’t go on ignoring Emma much longer. She cared about him, she loved him and she wanted to help. It was time to accept and move on. He didn’t care how hard that would be.
Although, in fact, getting back to normal took longer than he thought it would. Drinks with James were just the beginning. It took time for him to find his feet again. He felt as though he was starting anew with certain things, Emma especially.
But that was then and this was now and there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it. What was in the past would stay in the past, now and forever more. Rupert looked forward to the future, to moving on with Emma by his side, holding his hand. So what if it took a little longer than anticipated.
‘Dinner tonight? I’ll do my best to cook… something.’
He finally plucked up the courage to call her two days later even though he was feeling less than enthusiastic about having to entertain.
‘Something? That sounds ominous,’ Emma laughed, a soft, melodic tinkle in his ear.
Rupert chuckled, relaxing into his seat as the conversation continued and mellowed. He needed the reassurance from Emma, that things were going to be OK, that they could carry on and simply be them. Already he was beginning to feel better.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured finally. ‘You know my cooking isn’t that bad. I’m out of ideas, that’s all.’ He shrugged, an action seen by him alone. ‘So you’ll come?’
When she spoke again, he could tell she was smiling into the receiver. ‘And miss out on you cooking me something? How on earth could I say no, Rupes?’ she said good-humouredly. ‘Seven then? Want me to bring a bottle of wine or, I don’t know, some ice-cream maybe?’
‘Ice-cream sounds good,’ said Rupert curtly. ‘I’ll buy some sprinkles.’
‘Yeah? You better. And strawberry sauce, too. Heaven.’
Biting on his lip, he curbed laughter. ‘Consider it done,’ he responded.
By the time they ended the call, he was feeling closer to normal than he had done in weeks. It was a strange thing to come to terms with. For days he’d felt nothing more than the empty chasm in his chest, the gaping hole left by the child he never got to meet. He probably never would get over it, but it was good to know there were things in the world that could make him feel that little bit better.
Emma Watson, the perfect medicine.
Heading into the kitchen, Rupert tackled the mountain of washing up first and the over-crowded work surfaces. He hadn’t realised quite how much of a mess the apartment had become, somehow he’d let it fall into disrepair. Before he even thought about food, he needed to tidy up from top to bottom and perhaps do something about that strange smell coming from the cupboard in the corner. Emma definitely wouldn’t want to come face-to-face with whatever that was.
He threw the balcony doors open, tiny particles of dust swimming in and out of his line of sight as he adjusted to the bright summer sun. Taking a deep breath, he smiled as he took in the city spread out before him. Great glass buildings towering almost as high as the eye could see, the street below swarming with dozens of shoppers keen to snap up a bargain, pastel painted terraced houses that looked more like dolls houses than the homes of young city socialites.
All things considered, he had a pretty fantastic view from up here and he needed to take advantage of that.
Taking a deep breath, Rupert retreated back to the kitchen to see if he could throw anything together from what food he had left. If not, a trip to the supermarket would be on the cards. It wasn’t ideal, but if needs must.
At six, dinner on the go, he grabbed hold of the table and began dragging it towards the balcony doors. The legs scraped and scratched against the wooden floor, making so much noise the people in the apartment below would probably be up in a minute, but he didn’t really care. He wanted tonight to be perfect now.
Two minutes past seven and Rupert was, embarrassingly, pacing his hallway.
The doorbell rang at four minutes past and when he pulled the door open, finding Emma on the other side of it, his heart unceremoniously skipped a beat.
‘Hey,’ he said softly, pulling the door open a little wider and letting her inside.
Emma, dressed in a pale blue summer dress, shrugged off her cardigan and smiled, almost impishly. ‘I have the ice-cream, never fear,’ she supplied eventually, holding up an M&S bag as she headed for the kitchen, her smile splitting into a grin. ‘Raspberry ripple,’ she added, leaning back against the fridge once she’d put it away.
Then, a laugh and she whispered, ‘What?’
He hadn’t realised he’d been staring at her.
Snapping himself out of it, he laughed (rather awkwardly) and followed her over. ‘Nothing, I – sorry,’ he murmured, leaning against the breakfast bar. ‘Thanks.’
She moved to lean against the opposite side and when her hand slid over his, he glanced up into her eyes and felt his resolve melt away. God, he really did love her, so, so much. He had done for a long time. Long before he met Aimée, long before he met Lara, long before he met… well, any of his girlfriends actually. The love of his life, that’s what Emma was, she always had been.
‘What did you attempt to cook then?’ Her eyes sparkled as she gazed over at him. ‘And are you sure it’s safe for human consumption?’
‘Pasta and I think so.’ Rupert laughed, glancing down at their hands a moment. ‘Did you want a drink?’
She nodded and he forced himself to get on with things, retrieving a bottle of wine from the fridge and leading her over to the table. Since his furniture rearranging earlier, he’d spruced things up a bit, strategically placed candles about the place and generally tried to make it look a little more girl friendly. From what he could see, it had paid off; her face was a picture as she sank into her seat.
Perfection had definitely been reached.
It took him several moments to realise that Emma was staring at him now and as he placed the wine bottle down, she murmured, ‘Are you OK, Rupes?’
Sighing very softly, he nodded, settling back into his seat as they started on dinner. ‘I’m getting there,’ he admitted truthfully – there would be no point in lying about it. ‘I should have called you before but things… well, I spoke to Aimée again and I kind of freaked out about everything I guess. It made everything so real, so raw, and I...’ His voice cracked and fell away, words gone forever.
Immediately Emma was out of her seat and kneeling in front of him, her hands against his face. ‘I love you, talk to me,’ she whispered and leant in, hesitantly kissing his tears away.
Rupert lost himself quickly, fingers curling into her hair as he sank down onto the floor with her, pressing himself closer. He couldn’t get enough, not right now, and she gave as good as she got, her arms snaking around his neck and pulling his head down. He could have kissed her forever, but she soon pulled away again.
‘Rupes…’ she murmured, turning her head into the crook of his neck, ‘there was something I wanted to ask you.’
Breaking away from her, he let his eyes search hers and a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He swallowed down and asked apprehensively, ‘Yeah?’
She nodded, sitting back on her feet and nibbling anxiously on her lip. ‘It’s kind of a big thing, so if I make a mess of this, I apologise…’ she said timidly. ‘I just wanted to – I don’t know, make things more official between us, so I thought that maybe – only if you wanted – you could move in with me. The flat’s empty when you’re not there and I thought, seeing as it’s only been a few weeks, I could ask them to put your name on the lease, too. Then it could be--’
‘Ours…?’
‘Yeah.’ Her smile literally lit up the room. ‘What do you think? Bad idea, or…?’
Rupert held her gaze, the pad of his thumb lightly rubbing over her cheek bone. ‘Yeah, I mean… I think it’s a brilliant idea, Em,’ he responded. ‘So yeah… yes, I’d love it!’
Eyes twinkling in the candle light, she took a breath, her fingers curling into his hair. ‘Really? You mean it?’
With a laugh, he pressed a kiss to her head and said, ‘Yes, I really mean it.’
The tenants downstairs undoubtedly heard her shriek of joy, although he still wasn’t so sure about the table.
.x.
Author:
x_moonshine_xPairing: Rupert/Emma with slight Dan/Bonnie.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person fiction.
Word count: 1,800.
Summary: For some, coming to the end means having to say goodbye. For others, the end is only just the beginning.
Previous Chapters: Here.
A/N: After a short inward debate with myself, this fic will be 25 chapters now, instead of 26. I was spreading myself too thinly.
Chapter 24 – Moving On Is Hard to Do
Date: Thursday 3rd August 2011
Location: Notting Hill, London, England
The pictures were what hurt the most. Aimée’s bloodshot eyes and the way she had her hands up, attempting but failing to hide her face from the paparazzi’s prying lenses, her body language so guarded, desperate for them to leave her in peace. Break-up aside, he couldn’t deal with seeing her that way and as soon as Emma left the flat the following morning, Rupert had been straight on the phone to see if everything was OK.
An hour later, after hanging up again, he’d crawled back into bed, feeling almost as bad as he had the moment he found out. Somewhere deep inside, a part of him had died along with his baby.
It took another six hours before he built the strength to move from the comfortable confinements of his bed and even then he merely sat on the couch, sipping from a mug he’d managed to salvage from the wreckage and stared into space. He had no idea how long it would take him to get over this.
For two days, the TV, couch and more coffee than he could sensibly comprehend were Rupert’s salvation. He didn’t have the energy to move any further than the bathroom.
A visit from James broke the vicious cycle and he was faced with the prospect of stepping back out into the big bad world. He was ushered into the bathroom, forced to shower and shave, and then had a pile of clothes thrown at him, with one simple instruction, ‘Sort yourself out!’
Upon switching his mobile phone on an hour later, he found ten unanswered text messages from Emma as well as several voicemails.
Is everything ok? Call me. Em xxx
I’m worried. Don’t make me come round. Em xxx
Pls reply, Rupes. Ilu. Em xxx
Rupert frowned, deleting each message in turn, his heart heavy. He couldn’t go on ignoring Emma much longer. She cared about him, she loved him and she wanted to help. It was time to accept and move on. He didn’t care how hard that would be.
Although, in fact, getting back to normal took longer than he thought it would. Drinks with James were just the beginning. It took time for him to find his feet again. He felt as though he was starting anew with certain things, Emma especially.
But that was then and this was now and there was absolutely nothing he could do to change it. What was in the past would stay in the past, now and forever more. Rupert looked forward to the future, to moving on with Emma by his side, holding his hand. So what if it took a little longer than anticipated.
‘Dinner tonight? I’ll do my best to cook… something.’
He finally plucked up the courage to call her two days later even though he was feeling less than enthusiastic about having to entertain.
‘Something? That sounds ominous,’ Emma laughed, a soft, melodic tinkle in his ear.
Rupert chuckled, relaxing into his seat as the conversation continued and mellowed. He needed the reassurance from Emma, that things were going to be OK, that they could carry on and simply be them. Already he was beginning to feel better.
‘Thanks,’ he murmured finally. ‘You know my cooking isn’t that bad. I’m out of ideas, that’s all.’ He shrugged, an action seen by him alone. ‘So you’ll come?’
When she spoke again, he could tell she was smiling into the receiver. ‘And miss out on you cooking me something? How on earth could I say no, Rupes?’ she said good-humouredly. ‘Seven then? Want me to bring a bottle of wine or, I don’t know, some ice-cream maybe?’
‘Ice-cream sounds good,’ said Rupert curtly. ‘I’ll buy some sprinkles.’
‘Yeah? You better. And strawberry sauce, too. Heaven.’
Biting on his lip, he curbed laughter. ‘Consider it done,’ he responded.
By the time they ended the call, he was feeling closer to normal than he had done in weeks. It was a strange thing to come to terms with. For days he’d felt nothing more than the empty chasm in his chest, the gaping hole left by the child he never got to meet. He probably never would get over it, but it was good to know there were things in the world that could make him feel that little bit better.
Emma Watson, the perfect medicine.
Heading into the kitchen, Rupert tackled the mountain of washing up first and the over-crowded work surfaces. He hadn’t realised quite how much of a mess the apartment had become, somehow he’d let it fall into disrepair. Before he even thought about food, he needed to tidy up from top to bottom and perhaps do something about that strange smell coming from the cupboard in the corner. Emma definitely wouldn’t want to come face-to-face with whatever that was.
He threw the balcony doors open, tiny particles of dust swimming in and out of his line of sight as he adjusted to the bright summer sun. Taking a deep breath, he smiled as he took in the city spread out before him. Great glass buildings towering almost as high as the eye could see, the street below swarming with dozens of shoppers keen to snap up a bargain, pastel painted terraced houses that looked more like dolls houses than the homes of young city socialites.
All things considered, he had a pretty fantastic view from up here and he needed to take advantage of that.
Taking a deep breath, Rupert retreated back to the kitchen to see if he could throw anything together from what food he had left. If not, a trip to the supermarket would be on the cards. It wasn’t ideal, but if needs must.
At six, dinner on the go, he grabbed hold of the table and began dragging it towards the balcony doors. The legs scraped and scratched against the wooden floor, making so much noise the people in the apartment below would probably be up in a minute, but he didn’t really care. He wanted tonight to be perfect now.
Two minutes past seven and Rupert was, embarrassingly, pacing his hallway.
The doorbell rang at four minutes past and when he pulled the door open, finding Emma on the other side of it, his heart unceremoniously skipped a beat.
‘Hey,’ he said softly, pulling the door open a little wider and letting her inside.
Emma, dressed in a pale blue summer dress, shrugged off her cardigan and smiled, almost impishly. ‘I have the ice-cream, never fear,’ she supplied eventually, holding up an M&S bag as she headed for the kitchen, her smile splitting into a grin. ‘Raspberry ripple,’ she added, leaning back against the fridge once she’d put it away.
Then, a laugh and she whispered, ‘What?’
He hadn’t realised he’d been staring at her.
Snapping himself out of it, he laughed (rather awkwardly) and followed her over. ‘Nothing, I – sorry,’ he murmured, leaning against the breakfast bar. ‘Thanks.’
She moved to lean against the opposite side and when her hand slid over his, he glanced up into her eyes and felt his resolve melt away. God, he really did love her, so, so much. He had done for a long time. Long before he met Aimée, long before he met Lara, long before he met… well, any of his girlfriends actually. The love of his life, that’s what Emma was, she always had been.
‘What did you attempt to cook then?’ Her eyes sparkled as she gazed over at him. ‘And are you sure it’s safe for human consumption?’
‘Pasta and I think so.’ Rupert laughed, glancing down at their hands a moment. ‘Did you want a drink?’
She nodded and he forced himself to get on with things, retrieving a bottle of wine from the fridge and leading her over to the table. Since his furniture rearranging earlier, he’d spruced things up a bit, strategically placed candles about the place and generally tried to make it look a little more girl friendly. From what he could see, it had paid off; her face was a picture as she sank into her seat.
Perfection had definitely been reached.
It took him several moments to realise that Emma was staring at him now and as he placed the wine bottle down, she murmured, ‘Are you OK, Rupes?’
Sighing very softly, he nodded, settling back into his seat as they started on dinner. ‘I’m getting there,’ he admitted truthfully – there would be no point in lying about it. ‘I should have called you before but things… well, I spoke to Aimée again and I kind of freaked out about everything I guess. It made everything so real, so raw, and I...’ His voice cracked and fell away, words gone forever.
Immediately Emma was out of her seat and kneeling in front of him, her hands against his face. ‘I love you, talk to me,’ she whispered and leant in, hesitantly kissing his tears away.
Rupert lost himself quickly, fingers curling into her hair as he sank down onto the floor with her, pressing himself closer. He couldn’t get enough, not right now, and she gave as good as she got, her arms snaking around his neck and pulling his head down. He could have kissed her forever, but she soon pulled away again.
‘Rupes…’ she murmured, turning her head into the crook of his neck, ‘there was something I wanted to ask you.’
Breaking away from her, he let his eyes search hers and a smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He swallowed down and asked apprehensively, ‘Yeah?’
She nodded, sitting back on her feet and nibbling anxiously on her lip. ‘It’s kind of a big thing, so if I make a mess of this, I apologise…’ she said timidly. ‘I just wanted to – I don’t know, make things more official between us, so I thought that maybe – only if you wanted – you could move in with me. The flat’s empty when you’re not there and I thought, seeing as it’s only been a few weeks, I could ask them to put your name on the lease, too. Then it could be--’
‘Ours…?’
‘Yeah.’ Her smile literally lit up the room. ‘What do you think? Bad idea, or…?’
Rupert held her gaze, the pad of his thumb lightly rubbing over her cheek bone. ‘Yeah, I mean… I think it’s a brilliant idea, Em,’ he responded. ‘So yeah… yes, I’d love it!’
Eyes twinkling in the candle light, she took a breath, her fingers curling into his hair. ‘Really? You mean it?’
With a laugh, he pressed a kiss to her head and said, ‘Yes, I really mean it.’
The tenants downstairs undoubtedly heard her shriek of joy, although he still wasn’t so sure about the table.
.x.