Thomas Corvin ♖ Jest (jesting) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-01-21 20:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, * jeanne, * terri, c: calliope corvin, c: thomas corvin |
WHO: Calliope Pemberton, Thomas Corvin
WHEN: November 2014
WHERE: Washington, DC
SUMMARY: PART TWO! The unabashed happy ending.
WARNINGS: Kissin'.
Thomas listened, intently, admittedly relieved- and impressed- at the forethought Calliope had put into those emergency provisions. Those sorts of things would almost assuredly help them both out, in the long run. An irrepressible smile tugged at his lips when Calliope mentioned wanting to change her name. Even if he'd already known she would, when they got married, neither of them had been expecting for that to come around so soon. (Or, in the case of the last few weeks, at all.) "If those offices were open now, we'd be on our way there already." He gave her hand a squeeze. "But tomorrow's just as good, to become a Corvin." He glanced over to her, sharply, alarmed, at her last revelation. "She didn't let you- Jesus Christ." Thomas gritted his teeth, but gave a firm nod. "Right, yes, of course. What do you want? Anything- well, anything that's open at near midnight, anyway." -- “We'll set out bright and early. I don't really want to give them much of a chance to figure out where I've gone or get in touch with the police first to report me missing or something ridiculous,” Calliope didn't want to give them any opportunity to turn this to their advantage, “I plan to be a Corvin before noon, if possible.” She hadn't meant to startle him, and almost looked sheepish as she admitted, “I'll eat just about anything direly unhealthy right now. Mother was determined to get me into a size zero Vera Wang wedding dress, so I've been existing on salad and grapefruits, mostly. Sometimes chicken.” Any softness she had gained in Italy was well and truly gone now. She had lost several pounds, and was suddenly nervous at the thought of him seeing her in that state, wondering if he would even be able to look at her, “Pizza or a burger and fries would fit the bill…whatever we find that's open.” -- This whole thing had played out like some kind of horrid telenovela, and if Thomas hadn't lived through it all, he might not have believed it. Now, at least, they had the chance to fix it. "I can't wait," he admitted, still smiling. "Even if it's something only we know, for a few months more." "Pizza and a burger and fries it is, then," Thomas replied, changing her or to an and. He didn't think she would mind that. Flipping the blinker, he adjusted the course he'd been taking- back to his apartment- and instead directed them toward a late-night drive-through. The food was anything but high end, but if Calliope wanted direly unhealthy, then she was in luck. "We'll get you back to rights soon enough, love. No grapefruits or salad for a month, at least, though- just in case." One he'd pulled up to the speaker box, Thomas ordered the requisite greasy burger, cheese fries, two slices of pepperoni pizza, and two extra-large milkshakes. "Anything else?" he asked, grinning back over to Calliope in the passenger seat. -- Calliope made a mental list of the things she needed to do the next day. Go to the bank for the safety deposit box. Have an ID made. Get restraining orders. Have the Justice of the Peace marry the two of them. Put through all paperwork for a name change. Go back to bank and sit down with account manager to freeze all cards and make decision on whether or not to dissolve the accounts and seek out new portfolio advisor, “We're just getting a head start.” “I don't know if I ever want to eat another grapefruit again,” she admitted. Salad, she wouldn't put to the same fate. Even still, she needed to probably gain back a little of what she had lost to be healthy. Her stomach growled as he placed the order at the speaker, and she shook her head a little, “That sounds like plenty. Just what I need. Thank you.” By the time they pulled up to the window, the girl inside was already handing out the milkshakes. Calliope stuck a straw down in one of them almost immediately, and closed her eyes, savoring the cold, sweet dessert drink. The sugar would do her some good, she thought, knowing her system probably needed it, “Maybe it's the hunger talking, but this may be better than gelato.” -- "I wasn't really in the habit of keeping them around, but I'll make a note of this, for future shopping excursions, and we'll be sure to steer clear of the oversized citrus section of the grocery store." He had no particular affinity or dislike for the fruit, but if their presence reminded Calliope of these horrid last few weeks, then they would happily be verboten from here on out. He didn't even know which milkshake he'd passed over- the strawberry banana or the double dark chocolate peanut butter- but, either way, it did Thomas good to see her eating and smiling. Slowly but surely she'd come back to being the Calliope he knew and loved so dearly, so desperately. "Definitely the hunger talking," Thomas replied, handing over another bag of food as well as a triangle-shaped box that must have held their pizza slices. "Because I don't think I ever had anything so good as that dulce de leche gelato, in Italy." -- She knew that it was going to take time to heal from these last few weeks. When they got back to his apartment, preferably after they had eaten and curled up together in his bed, she would need to tell him everything that had happened. She still wanted - needed - to explain...to tell him what had really happened and what she had been through so that he might understand. It wasn't really something she was eager for on the merit of it being difficult to talk about, but even having the opportunity to tell him those things was important, “I'll allow oranges.” It was, in fact, the double dark chocolate peanut butter shake. The ice cream was rich. She hoped that the grease and heavy food didn't upset her stomach, but even if it did, she thought it would probably be worth it. Just the smell of the food made her mouth water even more, and the warmth from those bags made it difficult not to peek inside and steal some bite of whatever she could get her hands on. She laughed at his assessment of the gelato from the past summer, “I really can't even argue with you on that. All the flavors were outstanding. I'm still really enjoying this milkshake, though.” Thankfully, his apartment wasn't far from there. She still sipped on her milkshake along the ride, though she was relieved when they pulled into an open spot near his door, “I'll get these if you'll get my bag?” -- "Oranges good. Noted." Thomas gave a decisive nod. As they set off on the road again toward his apartment, Thomas kept sneaking glances toward Calliope, just to see that she was still drinking or still smiling- both of which helped to ease his mind somewhat. "Got it," he replied once he'd parked, turning off the ignition and unlocking the doors. Thomas retrieved the bag from the backseat, then led Calliope toward his apartment door. Inside, he turned on a light, locked and deadbolted the door, and leaned over to press a kiss to her temple. "Welcome home, love." It wasn't much, but it was (now) theirs. "I'll put your bag in the bedroom," he offered. The main room of his apartment was occupied primarily by bookshelves and a messy desk that held his laptop and several stacks of papers. Just off was a small kitchen and dining area with a two-person table. On the opposite side, an open door led to his (their) bedroom and the bathroom beyond. "Unless you wanted to eat in bed," Thomas added. "Your call." -- She smiled at that kiss he brushed to her temple, and relaxed now that they were safely inside and locked away, “It's good to be home.” It was still novel that the nightmare of the last few weeks was finally over. She couldn't really thank him enough for coming to get her and then taking care of her every step of the way since then. Here, in this familiar space with him, she could almost pretend nothing had happened. “Considering how messy everything we ordered is, maybe eat at the table? And then bed. I'm already in pajamas and very ready for cuddling,” she even held the food bag and box out the the side a bit as if to put her lounge attire on display. While he put her bag in the bedroom, Calliope took everything out of the food bag. She unwrapped the hamburger and cut it in half in case he wanted some of it too, and opened the cheese fries. She had already eaten a few fries and had the first bite of pizza in her mouth when he returned, “This is everything I could have wanted.” -- "I am very ready to cuddle," Thomas confirmed, smiling again before ducking back toward the bedroom. While he was there, he quickly changed out of his subterfuge clothes, dropping them into a hamper and pulling on his own similarly lounge-ready pajamas. Back out in the dining area, Thomas couldn't help but laugh, but only because Calliope just looked so, well, happy. "There's my blushing bride," he greeted, playfully, before sitting down across from her. He reached for a few fries and then the extra slice of pizza, though the latter was held aloft while he added, "I've got an old extra laptop, that I can wipe clear and give you. Probably a phone, too, somewhere. Neither is very fancy or top of the line, but they ought to hold you over at least." -- With the promise that they would soon have full bellies and be wrapped up in each other's arms, Calliope was content. She felt safe here with him. She had still been a little nervous in the car, but her smile was easier now, and the set of her shoulders was relaxed. She grinned at the thought that tomorrow they would be married, even if they wouldn't really celebrate it until the following spring, “Am I blushing or am I just really excited about pizza?” The comment was a tease, but it spoke of her comfort level. Now that the edge of her hunger was gone, she could think a little more clearly, too. “It shouldn't take me long to get replacements, but we can definitely look into those if there's a hang up at the bank,” she agreed, enjoying another bite of her pizza slice. Once she swallowed, Calliope somewhat abashedly offered, “I don't even know if my parents realize it yet...but all rights to my trust transferred to me on my birthday. I just have to decide what to do with it now.” -- "Both, I think," Thomas offered, after a moment of consideration. "Not that I blame you for either one." It was good to hear her speak so comfortably, casually. He wanted her to be able to relax, to be herself- whatever Calliope deemed that to be. Though he'd been aware of the existence of her trust fund, it wasn't something that Thomas concerned himself over. It was her money, to do with as she wished, and he had no- wanted no- claim to it. (Would the financial security have been nice? Sure. But he'd long been comfortable with the fact of his lower-middle income future as a teacher.) "Your- oh. Oh. Well, that's good, yeah?" he offered, hopefully. "It'll give you a nice start on getting everything else you need, that- that they took or you left behind." -- If her cheeks were flushed, it had a lot to do with the happiness that had settled over her since they had escaped from her parent's property. She'd spent the last two weeks thinking she likely would spend a miserable life married to Ramsey Asquith. She was relieved she'd seen Thomas on the campus grounds that day. She shuddered to think what might have become of her otherwise. As loathe as Calliope was to want or feel like she needed anything that they had ever given her, she thought maybe this fund was some sort of recompense for all of the suffering her parents had put her through over the years. She certainly wasn't just going to give the money back, even if it was for petty reasons. They owed her, she thought. The money to fall back on was a nice comfort, even if it was going to be a little stressful figuring out what she wanted to do from this point forward. “It'll be more than I need, really. I need to make a decision about whether or not to keep it all at the same bank, or if I want to take it elsewhere...somewhere my parents don't have any influence,” she took another bite of the pizza and swiped another cheese fry out of the box, “Maybe we can shop a bit this weekend. After things settle down. I don't want to miss too much in class, but I won't be comfortable there until we get through with everything tomorrow.” -- "Even if it is all in your name, getting it away from where your parents know about it probably isn't the worst idea." But then, Thomas was going to be generally supportive of just about anything that helped distance Calliope from the Pembertons. "Given the… extenuating circumstances of the last few weeks, I'd wager you can talk to your professors about making up anything that needs doing. And I can help with that, too- at least, if they're ones I know." Italian Studies, maybe not so much. But in the science department, almost definitely. Thomas grinned as he reached for a few more fries. "Corvin shopping spree, is it?" -- “The account manager is friendly with my parents, so I have no illusions about him being on my side. However, there are certain rules and laws they have to follow, at least. And I know he's going to fight hard over losing my portfolio. No one in banking wants to take that kind of loss. It's bad for the whole company.” Calliope had considered it, in daydreams. She had hoped, even over the last few weeks, that if she ever got the opportunity, she might be able to use that money to flee…and then contact Thomas from somewhere far away where her parents couldn't touch her. “That would be great, really. If you can help with the ones you know…and I think my other professors will mostly be agreeable. They know that the last two weeks isn't representative of my real work ethic.” She hoped that her parents hadn't gotten to any of them. She had been told many times over how they'd had to make donations just to get her into that university, though Calliope knew her grades stood mostly on their own merit. She might not have been valedictorian, but she also wasn't stupid. Having finished her pizza, Calliope reached for half of the hamburger and took a generous bite. A small, pleased hum passed her lips, “That it is. Maybe we can do something crazy like get on a family phone plan.” She grinned at him, and picked up another fry, adding thoughtfully, “I should probably make a list of everything I need, but I at least still have a few of the basics.” -- Thomas was glad, at least, that she knew what she was doing in the considerations over her trust and her portfolio, because those things were far beyond his own financial scope. "I may not really be able to help much, where all of those financial decisions are concerned, but I will happily and dutifully chauffeur you wherever you desire," he added, instead. "I was just glad to find one of those banks where they don't charge you overdraft fees- and they let me put a picture of us on my bank card." They really did come from different worlds. He laughed, though, at her suggestion of a family phone plan. "Of course," Thomas agreed, easily. "On the scale of crazy things I've done recently, I'd say that a phone plan ranks far below climbing a tree and stealing away my fiance in the middle of the night." -- “Those are definitely good perks for an account, though,” she offered, “Maybe I'll look into going there, if they have a similar service to what I have now.” She hesitated just slightly, mulling over what she wanted to say as she ate another bite of the hamburger, “If you would consider it, I'd like to add you on those accounts. Jointly. We're going to be married, and I don't like the idea of having my money and your money. I'd prefer it to be ours.” She paused just a moment before she continued, “I understand if you don't want that responsibility, but I…I never want you to have to worry. Not if you don't have to. I don't want to live a jet-setting life of leisure or buy a mansion. I don't need that. But I want us to be able to make our future decisions together without nitpicking over who pays for what.” They had always been on equal ground in her eyes, even if he'd been so far beneath her in the view of her parents. She didn't care about money. She never had. But now that they had it…well, she wanted to share that as much as she wanted to share his last name. “It's very tame. Even signing a contract,” Calliope agreed with a small smile, finishing off the half of the burger and settling back into her chair, properly stuffed, “Really, anything we do now is less extreme than the events of the last two weeks…” -- Perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise that Calliope wanted his name tied with hers in matters of finance as well as matrimony. And though Thomas knew that every single person from her former world would judge him harshly for it, he didn't hesitate to agree. If he'd thought for a moment that Calliope worried he was after her for her money, he wouldn't have taken a single penny. But, as things now stood, she was right. There was no sense in keeping that delineation any longer. "I don't mind combining things," he replied, simply. "I don't want a mansion, either." Which, looking around his small apartment, maybe that was obvious. "Not that even world-class physicists ever really make exorbitant amounts of money, a fact to which I've long been resigned, but, well, I don't need jet-setting or- or more leisure than any other average sort of person. I'm looking forward to teaching, to working. I'm not going to give that up just because my wife is loaded." Thomas offered a hesitant smile. They'd discussed those sorts of differences before, many times, of course. Even once, in Italy, after he'd proposed. Thomas had asked- and he'd said he'd only do it that once- if she was really going to be okay with him not being able to buy her fancy things or take her on luxury vacations every summer. She was- she'd promised- and he'd never brought it up again. (Even if some of those worries had resurfaced, a time or two, with visions of Ramsey Asquith's engagement ring on her finger. But no longer.) As Calliope seemed to signal that she was done eating, Thomas took one final cheese fry, then wiped his fingers on a napkin. He started to put their trash in one of the drive-thru bags, knowing well enough that even though they hadn't finished everything they'd bought, none of it would keep until morning. "I may not be able to promise you much, Calliope, but I can promise you a lifetime of mundanities," he teased, standing from the table to finish the work of clearing it. -- She let out a breath she'd been holding when he agreed that he saw the sense in combining their finances. She thought it would be easy to set up an agreement between themselves of what could be spent without discussion, and what decisions they may need to make together. She wasn't worried. She knew that Thomas was with her for all the right reasons. “I don't want to sit around idly, either,” she assured him, though that was what had been expected of her all her life. Calliope's degree had been a formality, not an indication of an intention to join the workforce. As it was, she didn't know what she might do with Italian and chemistry. Maybe she should have chosen a little more practically, “I don't know that I'm going to pursue after I graduate, honestly. But sitting around all day or spending my afternoons at the country club isn't really my style.” She didn't really have elaborate tastes like some might believe. She craved a simpler life. Something where she might enjoy what she did and come home every day to a husband that loved her. That was her version of the American Dream. Comfort was nice, but all she really needed was Thomas. She always felt most like herself when she was here with him, hidden away from the expectations of the rest of the world. “That sounds like the perfect life to me, Thomas. I've had far too much excitement as it is. My perfect day involves you, a book or two, and maybe some cupcakes,” she grinned and helped clearing up the table before she took his hand and walked back towards the bedroom. Her stomach fluttered a little with nerves because she knew there was still conversation to be had, but at least they were together now, removed from those that had tried to keep them apart. As she slipped onto the mattress, pulling back the covers, she hedged, “I think…I'd like to talk about everything. Just to get it all out on the table. I want to go into everything tomorrow clear headed. Is that okay?” -- "You can take your time in discovering exactly what you want to do or be." She had another semester yet until she finished her degree, of course, and with her trust already in her name, financial security already promised afterward. "And whatever it is, you'll be amazing at it. Though if that something does involve me and books and cupcakes, so much the better, I think." He may have been slightly biased. Once in the bedroom, Thomas set his glasses on the bedside table, blinking at the adjustment to his vision before he settled into bed beside Calliope. There was still a lamp on, but he'd turn that off, too, if she'd rather. A hand reached up, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want to, love." -- Calliope was grateful for his support. There was such a stark difference between him and almost everyone else who claimed to care about her. He wanted her to be happy, and it showed in every moment that they were together, “Maybe I’ll have it at least somewhat figured out by the summer.” She tried to imagine what she might like to do day in and day out. The first thing that came to mind was baking, but studying Italian was hardly culinary studies. She put that thought aside for another day. She didn’t move or motion to have him turn the light off just yet, wanting to be able to see him. Smiling softly as he tucked her hair back, she leaned back and settled in close to him. It was easiest, she thought, to start back at the beginning of when things started to go downhill. A lot of what happened on her birthday felt so long ago, but it had been one long, living nightmare that she still remembered with startling clarity, “I didn’t know...what their plan was. I had no idea.” She drew the corner of her lip between her teeth and admitted, “At the party, that really was the first time he ever kissed me.” It hadn’t been the last, though none of those kisses had been consented to by her, “He was holding me so tight, I couldn’t move. I guess it looked romantic to everyone else, but I...didn’t have a choice.” She closed her eyes and tried to convince her heart that it didn’t need to race, “When he proposed, I panicked. Mother would have been furious if I outright said no in front of all of their friends, so I was going to try to play it off to reject him in a less public space. My attempt to be kind spectacularly backfired. I tried to look for you, and that’s when he said I nodded, but I didn’t. I know I should have said something...anything...right then and there. I just…froze. I wanted to run after you, but he wouldn’t let me go.” -- "I should have suspected that something… untoward was going to happen when your mother allowed me to attend, rented tux and all." It was a paltry excuse, but he would be full of them, as this story unfolded. "I couldn't see your face, when he kissed you. I thought…" Thomas closed his eyes. Those worries had haunted him, and he pushed them aside yet again. "I know, now, of course. But I thought they had gotten to you, even after all we'd done and been and promised." -- “I think she wanted to thoroughly break the both of us, honestly,” Calliope admitted, though all she had wanted for so long was for her mother to actually love her, just the way she was. It was a foolish hope. She pulled herself a little closer to him, feeling better when she had her arm across his chest, feeling him breathe, “I understand...why you would think that. I should have stood up to her more a long time ago. Especially when we got back from Italy. I'm sorry that I didn't. I guess I was trying to hold out hope that she would see how good we are together, but that was naive.” She frowned a little, thinking back on suffering through all those congratulations when all she had wanted to do was scream, “I held it together until we got home that night, but Mother kept talking about the wedding. So I tried to leave. I said my refusal, even if it was too little, too late. Before I could go, though…Mother had Ramsey grab me up and from there…” For a second, her throat didn't seem to want to work, “Father told me I had missed messages and destroyed my phone. They took my key. It took all three of them to take my ring, Thomas.” Her dark gaze held his, eyes filled with conviction, “She bruised my arm and sprained my wrist. I could only do so much after that…” She curled her hand almost protectively around her ring again, though she knew he'd be the last person to try to take it from her, “They locked the window, and shut me in my room with no way to reach out. There was no getaway, romantic or otherwise. I was locked up there for days. They paid Bethany handsomely to keep my every move under their control and present the image they wanted. I wasn't even sure if I deserved your forgiveness after the party and everything that happened after…” -- "You don't owe me any kind of apology," Thomas insisted, quickly. "Calliope, you didn't do anything wrong. They-" He closed his eyes again, wishing he couldn't imagine the scene there, with Ramsey holding her and her parents taking everything from her by force... "They were never going to see it, to see us, but it wasn't wrong to hope or wish for it. It's not wrong to want to be loved the way you deserve." His hand reached up again, fingers just brushing against her cheek, a smile faint on his lips. "I'll show you the messages on my own phone, if you want to see them, but they're all some variation of pathetic confusion and desperation." No sense in pretending otherwise, really. "I got your ring and the key in my campus mailbox. There was no note or name to it. And when you came back to Professor Forsyth's class, I just... I couldn't stand to see you there, wearing his ring. And that's selfish and- and weak- and-" Thomas shook his head yet again. "It was easier for me to fall back into believing that I didn't deserve you- that I'd never deserved you. And I wish I knew why it was so easy, because I don't want it to be. You keep choosing me, though, and I swear I won't forget it again, Calliope." -- A hint of tears threatened when he assured her that she hadn’t done anything wrong, and that it wasn’t wrong of her to want to be loved. Her eyes stung a little, and she blinked quickly to keep any tears at bay. At least he understood, she thought. Beyond that, he loved her in the way that she deserved, and that was more than enough for her. She gave a somewhat watery grin and shook her head softly at his offer, “Nothing about you trying to make sense of what happened is pathetic, Thomas.” Afterall, it was her that appeared to have betrayed the promises that she made him. Calliope decided, “I don’t need to see those messages now that I’m here with you. We can delete them altogether. I won’t have the same number anymore.” She hadn’t been exactly certain how her mother had gotten the ring back to Thomas, but she’d been told it had been delivered. The knowledge was just meant to rub salt in her already open wounds and she had known it, “Bethany was there partly to ensure that I didn’t take the ring off between the car and class, and that I never had a moment to actually explain to you what was going on.” Leaning in close, she claimed a soft, gentle kiss that lingered on for a moment before she shifted back just a little, “Maybe...now that I don’t have one foot in both worlds, things will be a little different.” Not just that, but they would technically be married come tomorrow, “You will always be my choice, Thomas. You have been...from the very first moment I saw you.” -- "No, you won't." And Thomas did smile at the confirmation that she'd have a new phone number, even if it was a silly thing. "Family plan, come tomorrow." He'd become so accustomed to being in close contact with her throughout his days- even when she was in Italy- that these last few weeks had felt decidedly empty without her. "It's not like all of DC wouldn't have known if you'd taken that ring off. Drop it on the ground and it'd cause a seismic shift." And this was a playful remark just at the ostentatious size of the ring that Ramsey had forced upon her. In retrospect, in the clarity of looking back with 20/20 vision, it was almost amusing at how not Calliope it had been. (Though, even still, Thomas would likely request that Bethany be added to their list of restraining order names, come tomorrow morning.) "I may never understand what you saw in me, but I'm forever glad and grateful for it, all the same, Calliope." Thomas smiled, exhaling, then leaned into another gentle kiss. "Are there... what else do you wish to be different, now that you have your say in things?" -- She wouldn’t want to reclaim her old number if only because she didn’t want her parents knowing how to reach her. There were also a few other people that didn’t ever need to know how to contact her. It would take some getting used to, but it was a small sacrifice in the long run. There were a few saving graces, at least, in that they’d backed up all of her pictures from Italy to a portable hard drive after her trip. Whatever few pictures she’d lost since then really wasn’t worth fussing over. Smiling at his joke about the ring, she rolled her eyes, “It was the most awful ring he could have possibly chosen. He truly thought it was fantastic, but I told him it wasn’t to my taste. If I could have found a way to have gotten rid of it, I would have,” she promised, though maybe it would have been irresponsible of her to admit it, especially given how much the ring certainly had cost. “Originally, I just thought you were very handsome...and I still do, but now I know and love your heart and mind, too.” It was enough to know he was everything she wanted. His query was something she hadn’t really thought a great deal about given that until that afternoon, she hadn’t been certain she would ever find herself here again at all, “I think it’s going to be novel just to be able to make my own day to day schedule without my mother penciling in appointments and brunches every other day. I want to bake more and I may not wear high heels for at least a year. I just...I want to live a little without this constant worry that someone will tell my parents and I’ll be judged and punished for it.” -- "Well, you're rid of it now." Thomas reached down, finding Calliope's left hand, his own fingers brushing over where she now- again- wore the ring he had given her. For all his worries over it, before that first offering of it, Thomas had now seen its opposite and could easily agree that this was much more her style. Thomas shook his head, smiling, but didn't outright deny her claim as to his looks. If she thought that, he shouldn't complain. She was, after all, the most incredible woman- inside and out- that he'd ever had the privilege to know. "I am certainly in favor of your baking, even if my delicate figure might pay the price for it." Thomas grinned, even still, lacing their fingers together. "And I would never dream of making you wear heels if you didn't want to. I like when you stand on tiptoe to kiss me, anyway." Not that he was terribly tall- or she very short- but still. "We," his hand slipped to her waist, and Thomas was smiling even as he leaned in closer, "Calliope-almost-Corvin," a kiss, "are most certainly going to live. Nothing and no one will ever stand in our way of that, ever again." -- She could have spent hours just reveling in the fact that they were now free to have nights like this for the rest of their lives. They were going to make certain first thing tomorrow that they would never be separated again. His gentle touches to her hand and her arm sent a small shiver up to her spine. She could hardly wait to see a ring upon his finger as well. She laughed softly, squeezing their laced hands, “Both of our figures might pay the price, but everything is good in moderation, right? I'll just send all the extras with you to put in the teacher's lounge at school and you'll be the most popular guy in school.” Her tease was met with a small grin, though she knew Thomas cared little for matters of popularity. Still, it wouldn't hurt to have a way to make fast friends, “I don't hate heels, really. But…I hate that they were the only shoes my mother would ever deem acceptable unless I was in an activity that demanded otherwise, like tennis or riding.” In Italy, she had packed exactly one pair of heels and hadn't worn them a single time in the months she was there, though she'd had to buy a new pair of converse by the time she got home. She smiled happily even as he kissed her, his promise making happiness bubble up inside her chest, “Fate was very kind when it led me to you, Thomas Corvin. Our life together is all I will ever need.” |