So after writing quite a few successful? oneshots I've decided to attempt a multi chapter Cartwills fic. Not sure how this'll turn out but it'll be both a test to my writing abilities and a learning experience for me. Anyway, please leave a review as I'd love to hear feedback and we'll go from there!
"There is no show." The words ring in her ears like sirens and she's so taken aback she doesn't hear the rest.
No show means no Broadway, and when the realization sinks in Karen feels as if she's just been punched in the gut. She'd been so close, her dream for as long as she could remember had been right at her fingertips, so close she could nearly touch it, curl her fingers and grasp onto it tightly, but it was yanked away from her seconds too soon.
Karen doesn't notice when Eileen stops talking, or when Tom and Julia walk away in a fury, she's only pulled from her thoughts when she feels Derek's hands firmly gripping her shoulders.
When he offers to walk her home she nods and takes his hand as they stand up from the couch. She's shaking and her mind is running a mile a minute so she doesn't comment when Derek puts a hand on her arm and guides her out of the building.
The walk home is quiet; she's far too wrapped up in her own thoughts, silently drowning in her disappointment, unsure of how to come up for air. Her parents had been so upset they didn't get the chance to see her in Boston, something she had insisted wasn't a big deal because what were previews in Boston compared to Broadway? Now, she worried, they might never actually get the chance to see her do anything real, because let's face it, community theatre back in Iowa was nothing now that she was in the big leagues. Was.The idea that she'd just lost her one shot at becoming a Broadway star made her shudder. Noticeably apparently, as Derek shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it over her bare shoulders only moments later.
Arriving at the bottom of the steps to her apartment they stop. She's still completely lost in thought, eyes set on a spot on the pavement behind Derek.
"I guess I'll be seeing you around, love."
The words are quick to shake her from thoughts, her heart sinking even deeper in her chest than she'd thought possible.
Around? What did that mean exactly? The idea that she wouldn't have an excuse to see the man she'd seen five days a week for the last eleven months or so made her chest tighten. Would she really see him? It wasn't like she'd be going to bars for casual drinks with him the way she did with the rest of the cast. Though, when she actually thinks about it she's not too sure that's going to happen either. Bobby, Jessica, and Dennis will move onto other shows no problem, and while they might not be brand new productions she knows they'll find something. Sam, so she's heard, had received an offer for The Book of Mormon tour, something he'll no doubt take now. The idea that the people who'd gradually become her family would all fall out of contact made her nauseous.
Closing her eyes she takes a deep breath, her breathing hitching when she feels Derek's lips on her forehead. Her eyes snap open instantaneously, neck tilting upwards to look at him for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
Her action must take him by surprise because suddenly he's taking a step back from her and scratching the side of his face. She frowns at this and bites her lip as she searches his eyes with her own and tries to figure out exactly where the two of them stand.
He's not her director, which might be a good thing considering the fact that had it not been for the interruption earlier she probably would have kissed him. But it's not like they're necessarily friends either. Where that leaves them, she has no idea.
"Did you want to come up?" She asks, finally breaking the silence.
She might not know where the two of them stand but that doesn't mean she can't figure it out.
"I think I saw a bottle of wine somewhere while I was unpacking," she adds as encouragement.
When Derek sighs audibly and nods she can't help the wide grin that spreads across her face. Turning on her heels, which she plans on kicking off the second she steps inside, she leads him up the concrete steps and into the building.
As promised she's got a bottle of wine and two wine glasses, both of which took a couple minutes of rummaging to find. They're sitting opposite one another on the couch, chatting and sipping away.
The conversation's light, because after everything that's happened neither of them are sure they could handle much else.
By their second glass of wine Karen's sure that she saw Derek briefly check her out for the second time that night because she knowsshe saw him check her out when she'd walked up the stairs into the foyer earlier that night. She's leaning a little closer to him because he just said something funny and she feels the need to rest h hand on his leg. It's a friendly touch, really, though when he catches her eye after the fact her breath catches in her throat.
He's got that look again, that same sort of bewildered look he'd been wearing earlier that evening just before Ivy had walked in. Eyes still locked in a gaze she finds herself leaning in once more, though really it feels more like a magnetic pull than anything of her own doing.
She's not quite sure who kissed whom first but with his lips on hers it's not like she really cares. It's like she can feel the pain and the worry melt away as they kiss though there's nothing soft or gentle about the way he's pushing her onto her back, or the way her fingers tug at his hair as she pulls him down with her.
Between everything that had happened with Ivy, the guilt she'd felt about having Derek let her go, about her only turning around to agree that it was the right thing to do, she hadn't really been able to think about what had almost transpired between her and Derek. Kissing her director right outside a room full of journalists would have been a sure fire way to set her career off on the wrong foot. There were a hundred reasons why Derek was a bad idea; number one being the fact that he was her director. Was. Bombshell was done, leaving the two of them unemployed and nothing more than acquaintances with unresolved sexual tension.
Her teeth tug at his bottom lip desperately as her free hand moves to his waist, forcefully pulling his body against her own. There's just enough alcohol in her system to make her feel tingly, though if she thinks about it that's probably Derek's doing.
As her tongue explores his mouth, mapping the uncharted territory she impatiently fiddles with the buttons on his dress shirt, getting only about halfway down before impatiently tearing the shirt open.
He pulls away from her, resting his weight on his arm so he can look down at her and Karen can't but moan at the loss of contact.
"If you want it that badly all you have to do is ask, darling."
She's annoyed with herself when his cockiness turns out to be more of a turn on than anything else, something that shows as her lips find themselves on his neck, leaving small purple bruises they both know are going to last for days.
His hand trails down her side, skimming over her curves and she inhales sharply. She wants all of him at once. Something that shows as he begins to push up her dress before giving up and snaking his hand underneath the fabric, his fingers brushing against her bare legs.
Stopping just shy of where she needs him most he looks up at her in question.
"Derek." She says, annoyed that he of all people is stopping in search of permission.
"Karen." He says, matching her tone.
Her eyebrows crease in frustration, which only causes him to chuckle, his thumb drawing small circles along her upper thigh as he waits.
"Derek," this time she moans as his fingers brush against her cotton covered centre.
"Use your words, love," he tells her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
"Please," she practically moans, hips raising upwards, desperate for contact.
