x_moonshine_x (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
x_moonshine_x) wrote2009-04-23 10:11 pm
x_moonshine_x) wrote2009-04-23 10:11 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: RPF: Say Goodbye (25/25).
Title: Say Goodbye (25/25).
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: 2,145.
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 25 – A Fresh Start
Date: Wednesday 23rd August 2011
Location: Notting Hill, London, England
‘I don’t want to move, it’s too much effort…’
Ten minutes ago there had been a bang downstairs in the hall, indicating that someone had pushed something through the letter box. So far, neither Rupert nor Emma had moved a muscle and still lay entwined in the bedcovers, staring up at the ceiling. She was curled up against him, barely a hairs width between them, head resting quite comfortably on his chest.
‘Probably not important.’
‘But what if it is?’
Rolling onto his side a second later and propping himself up on an elbow, Rupert frowned down at her. ‘Are you honestly going to make me go all the way down there for a takeaway menu?’ he asked, cocking an eyebrow playfully. ‘Because, Em, you know that’s what it’ll be.’
‘It might not be,’ she said with a grin.
‘Wanna bet?’
Well, two could play this game.
Emma laughed and reached out, shoving at his shoulder gently. He barely moved an inch, but played it up anyway, shuffling away from her and muttering, ‘You’re mean.’
‘What? Oh, shut up!’
When she made a move to thump his arm, he did move, hopping out of bed and pulling on an old Ramones t-shirt. He cast her a sidelong glance, running a hand through his hair as he attempted to hold back a cheeky grin. Of course he failed miserably and several seconds later found a pillow being hurled in his direction.
‘Go!’ she cried.
And this time he actually did.
Tramping down the staircase and into the hallway, Rupert stifled a light yawn with the back of his hand and made a grab for the envelope that had been stuffed through the door. Flipping it over, he came face-to-face with some very familiar hand writing, so turned straight on his heel and headed back upstairs.
When he reached the bedroom once again, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and handed it over to Emma. ‘Want to do the honours?’ he asked softly, leaning back on his hand.
She smiled, shuffling closer to him, the duvet still pulled up to her chin, and then laid her head on his shoulder as she tore open the envelope.
Watching her in quiet contemplation, he idly ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the locks around and around. Three in the afternoon and they were still in bed. Disgusting really, but he didn’t care and he doubted Emma did either. Since moving in, they’d gotten into the habit of doing just that when they had nothing else to do. Today was one of those days and he wanted nothing more than to stay put.
‘Wedding invitation,’ she said eventually, waving the piece of gold embossed card in front of his nose. ‘’You are cordially invited to the wedding of Daniel Jacob Radcliffe and Bonnie Kathleen Wright on 25th November 2011,’’ she read aloud. ‘25th November, blimey! It’s official now then.’
‘I think it was official before,’ commented Rupert.
‘You know what I mean.’ Emma shook her head, holding the invite out at arms length, eyes wide. ‘This is big, it’s massive. Our friends are getting married!’
He stared at her, completely unperturbed and then said, ‘Still don’t get it, sorry Em.’
‘Useless,’ she muttered, eyes glinting in the afternoon sun. A second later, she moved away from him and slipped from between the sheets, reaching for the heavens and stretching out. He watched her, mesmerised, eyes trained on her slim figure and then, without warning, he reached out and let his arms encircle her waist, pulling her back down. ‘Rupes!’ she shrieked.
She fell, breathless from laughter and he leant over her, pinning her to the bed. ‘Don’t get up, we really don’t need to,’ he said, trying his best to sway her. ‘I can grab a couple of DVDs and some microwave popcorn and--‘
Her insistent lips cut him off and soon Emma wasn’t the only breathless one. ‘Nice try,’ she mumbled in-between kisses. ‘But it’s your birthday tomorrow and I have a million and one things to do.’
‘There’s no need to celebrate me getting old… really,’ argued Rupert persistently.
For well over a week now, she’d had her heart set on inviting Dan and Bonnie for dinner and a few drinks. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t allowed a say in it, even though it was his birthday they were celebrating. He’d tried everything to talk her out of it, even gone so far as to offer his body to her. But apparently that never worked unless she was in the mood (which she wasn’t when busy organising).
‘Twenty-three is not old.’ Looking up from wriggling her way into a pair of denim shorts, she chuckled lightly. ‘You’re overreacting, you know.’
‘Says the twenty-one-year-old,’ he mumbled, finally relenting and joining her in starting the day (six hours late). He picked up a pair of jeans and shot her a suitably dirty look, his smile playful.
Unfortunately, Emma caught him out and slapped his arm for his efforts. ‘Grow up,’ she teased. ‘Oh, no… wait, you’re already old.’
The smirk on her face was a picture, as was the way she reacted when she realised he was seconds away from pouncing on her. He started, eyes alight, and she screamed, running for the bedroom door as fast as her legs would carry her. Pausing (although only momentarily) when she got there, she slung the t-shirt she still had in her hands in his direction and then disappeared out of sight.
Rupert presumed this was some kind of defence mechanism.
Either way, it didn’t work.
Bounding after her, he finally collared her in the living room. A tiring game of cat and mouse followed, the pair circling the couch time and time again, shouts and laughter echoing about the room. Emma beamed from ear to ear; her cheeks flushed pink thanks to their exertions and hair an array of tangled curls.
She was actually completely wonderful and most importantly, she was his.
Eventually, after circling the couch over a dozen times, Rupert gave up and leapt for it instead. Planting his feet firmly on the arm, he reached out, grabbing her by the belt and tugging her down onto the mound of cushions with him. He didn’t get away with it though, she wriggled and giggled and flailed her arms about rather insistently. But he wouldn’t be letting her go, no way, no how.
When they both ultimately gave up five minutes later, he gently let her go and propped himself up on his elbows. She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, and then in turn pulled on a button down shirt, some sandals and headed for the door.
‘I shouldn’t be too long,’ she said, fishing around the cluttered table by the door for her keys. ‘Just need to fetch a certain person’s birthday cake, that’s all.’ She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared down the staircase, her laughter ringing in his ears.
While she was gone, he took the opportunity to spend an hour or so flicking through several scripts he’d been sent. Nothing particularly appealed just lately, so perhaps it was time for a bit of a break. If Emma wasn’t too busy running back and forth between fashion shows, maybe they could go somewhere together. He’d never visited New Zealand and he’d always fancied that. He would most definitely have to ask her opinion. After all, she’d said it herself many a time; they were making things official now.
Rupert made sure to shower and get dressed before she returned, padding around barefoot in the bedroom as he tossed shirts this way and that. Settling on a blue one with a logo he didn’t recognise on the front, he sat back down, tugging it over his head. It was then he noticed the wedding invite lying forgotten on the floor. He reached out for it, turning it over in his hands a moment, mouth curling up into a smile.
Emma was right of course, it was a big deal to each and every one of them.
The sound of keys in the door knocked him from his thoughts and setting the invite aside; he got to his feet and headed into the main room. He found Emma in the kitchen unloading several shopping bags and swigging from a bottle of Evian.
She smiled when he appeared and bumped her hip into his, murmuring, ‘Give me a hand, you.’
Obliging, he picked up one of the bags, unloading the bottles of champagne it encased and couldn’t help but grin. ‘Isn’t this going a little overboard?’ he questioned. ‘Champagne and all?’
Her response was indignant and accompanied by a shrug. ‘We have a lot to celebrate, do we not?’
Point made, she returned to her task, finally tossing the empty bags into the recycling and hopping up onto the counter. ‘Do you love me?’ she queried when he wandered over to join her. ‘I mean, really, really love me?’
He frowned, arms encircling her waist and hands slipping comfortably into the pockets of her shorts. ‘Stupid question, Em,’ he answered on a breath, pushing her closer. Already he could feel his body reacting to the close proximity of hers, the warmth of her skin was like fire. ‘I love you, you know that,’ he concluded.
Emma shifted, pressing her hips into his as inquisitive fingers raked through flame red locks. ‘Just checking…’ She beamed. ‘We can go back to bed now if you want.’
‘Oh no, there’s no way,’ he was quick to protest. ‘Not after you went to so much trouble to get up and out of there.’
It was unusual for her to make an offer like that, but he wasn’t having any of it. He was up now, so he was staying up. She’d turned him down enough today and he wouldn’t relent. No one was going back in that bedroom.
For a second she appeared confused and she perked an inquisitive eyebrow. Shortly after that, her hormones took control and she tugged on his shirt, her hands sliding confidently across his chest. ‘Fine then, we don’t have to go back to bed,’ she announced. ‘We can stay right here.’
Rupert laughed, stepping back to escape her clutches, although Emma was too quick for him and grasped hold of his belt with a firm grip. ‘Em,’ he murmured, ‘I thought you had a million and one things to do…’
‘They can wait a little longer,’ she said easily, eyes fixed on his.
Returning her intense stare, he soon gave in and not five seconds later, cleared the counter with one quick swipe of his arm, pushing her back onto it.
To be completely honest, it hadn’t been like this in a while, not since Aimée and losing the baby. At some point, the passion they’d had, it had been extinguished and it had been as easy as blowing out a birthday candle. He needed this – they needed this.
‘I think I have carpet burn…’ Rupert idly lifted his arm and attempted to crane his neck around to get a look at his elbow.
At some point, they’d made it to the floor and, as Rupert was learning, it wasn’t the most comfortable of places to get up close and personal.
Emma, however, seemed unperturbed and smiled down at him. ‘Drama queen,’ she chided playfully, biting on her lip. In this light she looked the epitome of innocence, yet if what they had just done was anything to go by, he knew different. ‘Want me to kiss it better?’
He laughed a loud and ridiculous laugh that startled even him, and then shook his head. ‘No, I really don’t!’
‘OK.’ A moment later, her head came to rest on his chest, her hair very gently tickling his skin. ‘Happy birthday, Rupes,’ she whispered.
Glancing down at her from between his lashes, he let a soft smile grace his features, hands idly rubbing her back as he said, ‘Thanks.’ There really wasn’t much else to say in response. For the first time in a while, words escaped him. She made him happy, he was pretty sure that he made her happy too, and that was pretty much that.
Although, there was that one thing…
‘When are we getting married then?’
Her head snapped back up so quickly that Rupert actually jumped and the smile he’d had on his face moments before disappeared rather abruptly. He composed himself again, took in the surprise in her eyes, and then lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug, letting the words wash over her.
The smile Emma graced him with could quite easily have broken a thousand hearts (bright, glittering and rapturous), but he knew from the way she kissed him afterwards that she’d been saving that one especially for him.
Fin.
.x.
Author:
x_moonshine_xPairing: Rupert/Emma with slight Dan/Bonnie.
Rating: R.
Warnings: Real person fiction.
Word count: 2,145.
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 25 – A Fresh Start
Date: Wednesday 23rd August 2011
Location: Notting Hill, London, England
‘I don’t want to move, it’s too much effort…’
Ten minutes ago there had been a bang downstairs in the hall, indicating that someone had pushed something through the letter box. So far, neither Rupert nor Emma had moved a muscle and still lay entwined in the bedcovers, staring up at the ceiling. She was curled up against him, barely a hairs width between them, head resting quite comfortably on his chest.
‘Probably not important.’
‘But what if it is?’
Rolling onto his side a second later and propping himself up on an elbow, Rupert frowned down at her. ‘Are you honestly going to make me go all the way down there for a takeaway menu?’ he asked, cocking an eyebrow playfully. ‘Because, Em, you know that’s what it’ll be.’
‘It might not be,’ she said with a grin.
‘Wanna bet?’
Well, two could play this game.
Emma laughed and reached out, shoving at his shoulder gently. He barely moved an inch, but played it up anyway, shuffling away from her and muttering, ‘You’re mean.’
‘What? Oh, shut up!’
When she made a move to thump his arm, he did move, hopping out of bed and pulling on an old Ramones t-shirt. He cast her a sidelong glance, running a hand through his hair as he attempted to hold back a cheeky grin. Of course he failed miserably and several seconds later found a pillow being hurled in his direction.
‘Go!’ she cried.
And this time he actually did.
Tramping down the staircase and into the hallway, Rupert stifled a light yawn with the back of his hand and made a grab for the envelope that had been stuffed through the door. Flipping it over, he came face-to-face with some very familiar hand writing, so turned straight on his heel and headed back upstairs.
When he reached the bedroom once again, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and handed it over to Emma. ‘Want to do the honours?’ he asked softly, leaning back on his hand.
She smiled, shuffling closer to him, the duvet still pulled up to her chin, and then laid her head on his shoulder as she tore open the envelope.
Watching her in quiet contemplation, he idly ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the locks around and around. Three in the afternoon and they were still in bed. Disgusting really, but he didn’t care and he doubted Emma did either. Since moving in, they’d gotten into the habit of doing just that when they had nothing else to do. Today was one of those days and he wanted nothing more than to stay put.
‘Wedding invitation,’ she said eventually, waving the piece of gold embossed card in front of his nose. ‘’You are cordially invited to the wedding of Daniel Jacob Radcliffe and Bonnie Kathleen Wright on 25th November 2011,’’ she read aloud. ‘25th November, blimey! It’s official now then.’
‘I think it was official before,’ commented Rupert.
‘You know what I mean.’ Emma shook her head, holding the invite out at arms length, eyes wide. ‘This is big, it’s massive. Our friends are getting married!’
He stared at her, completely unperturbed and then said, ‘Still don’t get it, sorry Em.’
‘Useless,’ she muttered, eyes glinting in the afternoon sun. A second later, she moved away from him and slipped from between the sheets, reaching for the heavens and stretching out. He watched her, mesmerised, eyes trained on her slim figure and then, without warning, he reached out and let his arms encircle her waist, pulling her back down. ‘Rupes!’ she shrieked.
She fell, breathless from laughter and he leant over her, pinning her to the bed. ‘Don’t get up, we really don’t need to,’ he said, trying his best to sway her. ‘I can grab a couple of DVDs and some microwave popcorn and--‘
Her insistent lips cut him off and soon Emma wasn’t the only breathless one. ‘Nice try,’ she mumbled in-between kisses. ‘But it’s your birthday tomorrow and I have a million and one things to do.’
‘There’s no need to celebrate me getting old… really,’ argued Rupert persistently.
For well over a week now, she’d had her heart set on inviting Dan and Bonnie for dinner and a few drinks. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t allowed a say in it, even though it was his birthday they were celebrating. He’d tried everything to talk her out of it, even gone so far as to offer his body to her. But apparently that never worked unless she was in the mood (which she wasn’t when busy organising).
‘Twenty-three is not old.’ Looking up from wriggling her way into a pair of denim shorts, she chuckled lightly. ‘You’re overreacting, you know.’
‘Says the twenty-one-year-old,’ he mumbled, finally relenting and joining her in starting the day (six hours late). He picked up a pair of jeans and shot her a suitably dirty look, his smile playful.
Unfortunately, Emma caught him out and slapped his arm for his efforts. ‘Grow up,’ she teased. ‘Oh, no… wait, you’re already old.’
The smirk on her face was a picture, as was the way she reacted when she realised he was seconds away from pouncing on her. He started, eyes alight, and she screamed, running for the bedroom door as fast as her legs would carry her. Pausing (although only momentarily) when she got there, she slung the t-shirt she still had in her hands in his direction and then disappeared out of sight.
Rupert presumed this was some kind of defence mechanism.
Either way, it didn’t work.
Bounding after her, he finally collared her in the living room. A tiring game of cat and mouse followed, the pair circling the couch time and time again, shouts and laughter echoing about the room. Emma beamed from ear to ear; her cheeks flushed pink thanks to their exertions and hair an array of tangled curls.
She was actually completely wonderful and most importantly, she was his.
Eventually, after circling the couch over a dozen times, Rupert gave up and leapt for it instead. Planting his feet firmly on the arm, he reached out, grabbing her by the belt and tugging her down onto the mound of cushions with him. He didn’t get away with it though, she wriggled and giggled and flailed her arms about rather insistently. But he wouldn’t be letting her go, no way, no how.
When they both ultimately gave up five minutes later, he gently let her go and propped himself up on his elbows. She pressed a tender kiss to his lips, and then in turn pulled on a button down shirt, some sandals and headed for the door.
‘I shouldn’t be too long,’ she said, fishing around the cluttered table by the door for her keys. ‘Just need to fetch a certain person’s birthday cake, that’s all.’ She grinned, blew him a kiss and then disappeared down the staircase, her laughter ringing in his ears.
While she was gone, he took the opportunity to spend an hour or so flicking through several scripts he’d been sent. Nothing particularly appealed just lately, so perhaps it was time for a bit of a break. If Emma wasn’t too busy running back and forth between fashion shows, maybe they could go somewhere together. He’d never visited New Zealand and he’d always fancied that. He would most definitely have to ask her opinion. After all, she’d said it herself many a time; they were making things official now.
Rupert made sure to shower and get dressed before she returned, padding around barefoot in the bedroom as he tossed shirts this way and that. Settling on a blue one with a logo he didn’t recognise on the front, he sat back down, tugging it over his head. It was then he noticed the wedding invite lying forgotten on the floor. He reached out for it, turning it over in his hands a moment, mouth curling up into a smile.
Emma was right of course, it was a big deal to each and every one of them.
The sound of keys in the door knocked him from his thoughts and setting the invite aside; he got to his feet and headed into the main room. He found Emma in the kitchen unloading several shopping bags and swigging from a bottle of Evian.
She smiled when he appeared and bumped her hip into his, murmuring, ‘Give me a hand, you.’
Obliging, he picked up one of the bags, unloading the bottles of champagne it encased and couldn’t help but grin. ‘Isn’t this going a little overboard?’ he questioned. ‘Champagne and all?’
Her response was indignant and accompanied by a shrug. ‘We have a lot to celebrate, do we not?’
Point made, she returned to her task, finally tossing the empty bags into the recycling and hopping up onto the counter. ‘Do you love me?’ she queried when he wandered over to join her. ‘I mean, really, really love me?’
He frowned, arms encircling her waist and hands slipping comfortably into the pockets of her shorts. ‘Stupid question, Em,’ he answered on a breath, pushing her closer. Already he could feel his body reacting to the close proximity of hers, the warmth of her skin was like fire. ‘I love you, you know that,’ he concluded.
Emma shifted, pressing her hips into his as inquisitive fingers raked through flame red locks. ‘Just checking…’ She beamed. ‘We can go back to bed now if you want.’
‘Oh no, there’s no way,’ he was quick to protest. ‘Not after you went to so much trouble to get up and out of there.’
It was unusual for her to make an offer like that, but he wasn’t having any of it. He was up now, so he was staying up. She’d turned him down enough today and he wouldn’t relent. No one was going back in that bedroom.
For a second she appeared confused and she perked an inquisitive eyebrow. Shortly after that, her hormones took control and she tugged on his shirt, her hands sliding confidently across his chest. ‘Fine then, we don’t have to go back to bed,’ she announced. ‘We can stay right here.’
Rupert laughed, stepping back to escape her clutches, although Emma was too quick for him and grasped hold of his belt with a firm grip. ‘Em,’ he murmured, ‘I thought you had a million and one things to do…’
‘They can wait a little longer,’ she said easily, eyes fixed on his.
Returning her intense stare, he soon gave in and not five seconds later, cleared the counter with one quick swipe of his arm, pushing her back onto it.
To be completely honest, it hadn’t been like this in a while, not since Aimée and losing the baby. At some point, the passion they’d had, it had been extinguished and it had been as easy as blowing out a birthday candle. He needed this – they needed this.
‘I think I have carpet burn…’ Rupert idly lifted his arm and attempted to crane his neck around to get a look at his elbow.
At some point, they’d made it to the floor and, as Rupert was learning, it wasn’t the most comfortable of places to get up close and personal.
Emma, however, seemed unperturbed and smiled down at him. ‘Drama queen,’ she chided playfully, biting on her lip. In this light she looked the epitome of innocence, yet if what they had just done was anything to go by, he knew different. ‘Want me to kiss it better?’
He laughed a loud and ridiculous laugh that startled even him, and then shook his head. ‘No, I really don’t!’
‘OK.’ A moment later, her head came to rest on his chest, her hair very gently tickling his skin. ‘Happy birthday, Rupes,’ she whispered.
Glancing down at her from between his lashes, he let a soft smile grace his features, hands idly rubbing her back as he said, ‘Thanks.’ There really wasn’t much else to say in response. For the first time in a while, words escaped him. She made him happy, he was pretty sure that he made her happy too, and that was pretty much that.
Although, there was that one thing…
‘When are we getting married then?’
Her head snapped back up so quickly that Rupert actually jumped and the smile he’d had on his face moments before disappeared rather abruptly. He composed himself again, took in the surprise in her eyes, and then lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug, letting the words wash over her.
The smile Emma graced him with could quite easily have broken a thousand hearts (bright, glittering and rapturous), but he knew from the way she kissed him afterwards that she’d been saving that one especially for him.
Fin.
.x.