Hands On Me
A/N: Please forgive my description of Natasha's paintings. I'm rather bad at explaining that sort of thing, but I hope you liked them anyhow. Please feel free to imagine them however you best see fit from what I offered. :) Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 11
Natasha smiled at the guests as she greeted them. Mr. King, her employer, walked over and stood beside her. He sipped a glass of wine while she nibbled on cheese. They always had the same cheddar cheese and the same wheat crackers at every gallery showing, but there was always a new wine to be tried. Occasionally, Natasha would try a sip. But that was it. After all, she wasn't 21 yet. It was so close though. So Natasha stood, talking quietly with people as they looked around, occasionally sharing comments with Mr. King, the taste of chardonnay mixing quite nicely with the cheddar she still hadn't finished.
"I dare say this is one of your best shows, risqué as it is, Miss Berry," Mr. King commented cheerfully. He grinned, already on his third glass of wine. "We may sell a good portion of these paintings tonight! And the guests are having so much fun!"
"Of course they are," Natasha said with a smile. She liked Mr. King and his wife. They were nice and she felt oddly comfortable whenever she was with them. They had always been very generous to her. Oddly so, considering their usually frugal nature since they had to claim bankruptcy just 22 years ago. "The fun is in guessing who the models are."
"Indeed, my dear girl," Mr. King said, patting her on the back. "Your best show yet."
"Tasha! Tasha, this is all so good!" a familiar voice came from the crowd moving about the large single floored studio. Liam stepped from his friends over to his sister, grinning at her as Mr. King turned to another guest. She heard it in Liam's voice. "You're really good at painting naked men. Which one is Charles? I bet that was your favorite."
"How do you know about Charles? Let me guess; Ruby? I'll kill her. And if you must know, Charles isn't in these paintings. And if he were, they wouldn't be my favorite. I already have my favorite." She smiled at him, proud of her work.
"And which ones are those?" Liam asked curiously, his eyebrows raised.
"The ones in the back. Come on, I'll show you."
Liam followed Natasha to the back of the studio and entered the row that held just three pictures. Most rows contained five or six so this one, from a first glance, seemed bare in comparison. But when you actually got closer and saw the pictures, the amount of detail in these paintings put the others to shame. There was a passion in them that the others paled in. Liam sighed in awe.
The painting on the left didn't show much –just the upper back of the model. The shoulders were hunched and the position seemed defensive somehow. Dusty brown hair graced the shoulders as the lean muscles tensed. The head disappeared at the top of the painting and surrounding the figure was a swirling mess of black and green.
The painting on the right showed more –it was the painting on the left in a slightly larger scale. It showed the back from the waist up. The position was still defensive, the muscles still tensed as thin arms reached out and pressed against some wall that faded into the blackness surrounding it. The fists were closed tightly and the head hung down. The figure was more than just defensive –they were shameful.
The painting in the middle showed the most –it was both paintings on a larger scale. The figure seemed to be leaning forwards slightly, the feet positioned a good foot away from the wall it leaned against. The model's stance was solid, his feet spread shoulder length apart. His thighs were taught and his body lean, though there was some muscle rippling through the legs and back and upper arms. Still, his body seemed slightly aged; weathered, really. This time the background was the gray wall the body leaned against.
The paintings seemed simple enough and yet the way the body stood rang out to them. It wasn't natural. It was like the painting had been created to see inside the model rather than to reflect the way he had actually stood. There was a sadness about them that drew the person looking at them in, only for them to realize that there was nothing sad about it. He was just a man like every other man. That was all.
"Natasha, these are crazy," Liam said, proud of his sister. "I…what were you going for? Who's the model?"
"I won't tell you who –that'd ruin the whole point of these pieces. But I was going for exactly what you see. To each person, they may be different. But from what people have been saying, they've all come to the same conclusion in the end. He was relatable whereas the other models seemed so placed. Take the model in the first row, for instance. He had a leg raised and his hands on his waist in one painting and in another he had an arm of victory over his head. The impressions people got were hopes that were unattainable. But everyone's been hurt. These paintings reflect the hurt that we try to force away. At least, that's what I was going for. The model was perfect for it. He really…struck home."
"They are absolutely wonderful," Liam said and began complimenting his sister on her talents, but she wasn't really focused on his exact wording. Instead, she kept an ear to the guests, hoping that maybe he would show up.
She wanted him to see these paintings; to see what she had done with him. She bit her lower lip, thinking about it. The day of the debate, Natasha had managed to paint the painting that showed only the upper back before she had gone with Mary Margaret. The day after that, she managed to paint the one showing more. It took another week before she finished the final painting, having debated for so long where to take it. When she had finally decided, she painted it before she could take it all back and think of something different. Apparently, that had been the right decision because people loved this display, as few as the paintings were.
She hadn't seen him since the day in his shop. She hadn't talked to him. It was normal for her to go days or even weeks without seeing or talking to him. Most times she had seen him, it would be in passing on the street or in the diner or the library and she would offer a quick hello before going on her way. This time, though, was different. She had found herself attempting to spend more time with the man before the kiss had happened. Now, she had to wonder who was the one doing the avoiding. Because that's what was happening, she decided. Storybrooke was a small enough town that she should run into him eventually, but for some reason she had just missed him at the diner or he had just missed her walking by before he left his shop for the evening. She frowned at the thought. She never thought she'd join the townspeople in avoiding the man. At least she had the comfort to know it wasn't for the same reasons as they generally did. She liked Mr. Gold. Even if he was a bit of a jerk from time to time and quite careless in his actions. No one was perfect, she reasoned. But why was she trying to reason at all? He had rejected her. Twice.
She heard the tap of the cane before she heard his voice.
"I hear they've already been sold," he said quietly as he gazed at the paintings. She turned her face up at him, offering a small smile. He didn't believe it for a second and he saw the slight tremble in her lips. "The two on the sides to Mr. Hopper for his office and the third to some anonymous patron, Mr. King tells me. Apparently the middle one was a little too risqué for Mr. Hopper's office, but he thought the others would fit perfectly to perhaps comfort his patients."
"I'm not sure they'd provide comfort, but maybe a little inspiration to know they're not the only ones hurting or flawed," Natasha said with a shrug. "I really wish I knew who the anonymous patron is. I think it's the same one who buys a lot of my work, but I'd like to ask what made him buy this particular piece. I suppose I was secretly hoping no one would so I could keep it for myself."
"He? So you think the patron is a male?" Mr. Gold asked curiously.
"Most of the patrons that buy from here are, even if it's their wives that want the paintings. Mr. King does a lot of business with people outside of the state, which is where quite a few of the portraits go. I had one go to Italy once. It was quite fascinating to learn. I felt so…universal." She laughed at that. "But I don't know. This anonymous one is just…If I had to bet, I'd say male. Even if it is his wife that wants these paintings. If he's married, that is."
"Perhaps he is," Mr. Gold mused. "Perhaps not…" He turned to face her and gently took her hand.
"Yes?" she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. She felt him press something against her palm and as he took his hand away, she closed her fist.
"You're birthday is but a week away, Miss Berry, and I'm afraid I might not see you before then," Mr. Gold said simply. "You have exceeded the expectations of this showing like always, my dear. Congratulations and do have a good birthday."
He left as quickly as he'd come, Mr. King soon replacing where he had just been. Natasha frowned slightly, confused as to why Mr. Gold had cared at all about her birthday. He had never until now given her a gift for it. She also didn't know why he had acted so casually. She had to make an effort to respond just as casually. She was sure he noticed, but he seemed to simply accept it. Natasha bit her lower lip again. She hated wondering why he did what he did and what he was thinking. It was nerve wracking, to say the least.
"What was that about?" Mr. King asked as he glanced at Mr. Gold's retreating back. Natasha just shrugged in response. "He usually sticks around to talk to you after. He enjoys these things. He's leaving so early."
"Indeed he is," Natasha said quietly and gently ran her fingertips over the figure in her hands. She recognized it instantly. It was the little glass bird from his shop. She smiled and slipped it into her pocket. He had remembered.
Leah followed the page into the great hall. She walked up towards where the throne sat and turned her face up to where she knew the king would be. She bowed low before standing straight once more. He smiled warmly at her, glad that he would have this moment to speak to her alone. It seemed Robert was visiting more and he had seen less of her than he normally did. She did, however, still make the meals with him and his wife.
"My lord," Leah greeted him and smiled.
"Leah, my dear girl," the king said and came down to stand by her. "Let us take a turn about the garden, shall we?"
"Of course, your highness," Leah said and took his offered arm.
She breathed in the fresh air as they walked, chattering on about little happenings at the castle as of late. It was a nice warm day and she was pleased to be able to get out. She felt like she hardly did these days. She was also pleased to be able to spend time with the king. He and his wife had always been very gracious to her. He had become a sort of second father to her while she stayed at the castle. She knew that she was far too below him to ever think of him as that, but he didn't seem to take notice and treated her as much an equal as he did his own wife and friends. She had heard he was kind, yet she hadn't expected this. She was glad that of all the kingdoms she lived in, this was it.
"How is your father?" the king asked softly and they finally stopped, taking a seat on a bench.
"He's doing very well; his farm is rather prosperous this season," Leah said. "My brother Nathan has met a girl and he is courting her, last he told me. She's very open to his affections."
"Are you glad for it?" he asked.
"Oh, of course! She's a dear friend of mine and she is so perfect for my brother. I wish them only the best."
"How good of you. But what of yourself? Have you found love yet or are you waiting? What about the handsome Robert fellow that comes around so much?"
"He's a knight."
"Yes. And?"
"He's far too noble to have much to do with me, sir."
"Oh nonsense, my dear girl! He likes you. That is all that should matter. I wholeheartedly agree with this courtship."
"Oh, no, sir! I mean. I know this may sound odd, but he is only a friend. He does like me, but I'm afraid I do not feel the same."
"And why not? Here I was thinking you to be smitten with the boy."
"Oh no, sir. It is true that I am smitten, but not with him. I…oh my. I am sorry to divulge so much. I did not intend to speak in this way, sir."
"Oh it is quite fine, my dear girl. Perhaps, though, this might be better saved for my wife. I must admit that she is more suited for this type of thing; talk of marriage and babies and such."
"My lord, I know this might seem out of place for me to ask, but I have wanted to know. There is never really a good time to ask this. H-haven't you and your wife ever wanted children? Why have you not had any?"
"We did have one," the king spoke slowly, unsure of how much he should say. He looked sadly at the girl; he looked at the familiar eyes and the face he had come to known. He knew he couldn't say much. "A good while ago. Unfortunately, the babe was taken and we haven't been able to give birth since. I put full trust into my brother's son as the rightful heir, however. I know he will be great; alas, that is another topic for another time. Perhaps we should move on to happier topics? You should invite your parents and your brother to stay with us here at the castle in a fortnight. We'll have a great feast to welcome them. You should not be separated from them for long. And your brother can even bring that lady of his that you find so close."
"Oh, that would be wonderful. Thank you, your highness, thank you!"
Natasha swung her legs back and forth, humming softly to herself as she nibbled on a sandwich. She wasn't very hungry; she hadn't been very hungry all week, but she knew she had to eat. Natasha had been fairly busy this week at the studio. A lot of her paintings had been sold and she was glad for the extra money. She knew she could now pay her rent without a problem and that meant she wouldn't have to move back in with her parents. As much as she loved them, being there now was a little awkward. Ever since she was little, Natasha knew she and her brother were adopted. Her mother was never able to have children. What with Emma becoming more of a presence in Storybrooke and Henry's life, Liam had begun to question their parents where they had come from. Natasha had thought it was silly, but it had been providing an argument between her father and brother that kept the atmosphere tense.
"What're you thinking about, Tasha?" Ruby asked as she refilled Natasha's coffee cup. Natasha turned her face to her friend and smiled.
"Liam, actually," Natasha said with a shrug. Ruby rolled her eyes.
"The adoption thing again? Why does he care so much? Your parents love you and they are your parents," Ruby said simply. Natasha nodded.
"I know. I think he more wants to know if he and I are related or from different families. My parents aren't really sure and they won't share much beyond that. He's just stressed, though. He's not getting many hours at work anymore and I think he's worried about being tight on bills. I think it's just something to take his mind off of it," Natasha said and frowned. Her brother was a carpenter and when the weather got colder, he was getting fewer jobs. It was like this every winter season, but this seemed to be more of a dry spell than usual. At least spring would be here soon.
"I'm sure he'll be okay," Ruby said gently. She knew what Natasha was talking about. Liam had talked to her about it quite often recently. It was stressing him out.
"He will as long as he has you," Natasha said and grinned. "How is that going, by the way?"
"Tomorrow's Friday, right? We have a date tomorrow then," Ruby said and blushed.
"The day before my birthday! Good. Means you'll have done your half of the bargain," Natasha teased. Ruby just rolled her eyes.
"And what about you? You have your first kiss yet?" Ruby laughed at her. Natasha's face turned a dark red and Ruby grinned. "Oh, Natasha! You did! You totally did! With who? Was it Charles? Did it go further? Oh, Tasha!"
"Hush, Ruby! I am not as keen as you about putting my private life out there," Natasha chastised her friend, but she knew it was lost on her. With a sigh, she shook her head and gently fingered the glass bird that hung from a chain on her neck. "I won't tell you who here. I'll have to tell you later, maybe. I'll tell you on my birthday and not any sooner."
Ruby didn't have time to respond. The diner door opened and Mary Margaret walked in with Emma, coming up to the pair before Ruby could pressure her friend any further. Ashley joined them not too long after that and the topic quickly changed from a potential secret lover Ruby was accusing Natasha of having to Natasha's birthday.
"So what are we doing for it?" Mary Margaret asked as she sipped her tea. She kept glancing at the door as if expecting someone and though Emma raised an eyebrow at this, she said nothing.
"I was thinking we should go out. To a club or something," Ruby offered. "After all, Tasha is turning 21."
"For starters, you have been spending way too much time with my brother," Natasha said with a smile. "And you might be able to get into the club, but of the five of us only Mary Margaret, Emma, and I will be able to drink."
"Count me out," Emma said as she sipped on coffee. "I have to work Saturday night. I can't go out. Sorry, Natasha. I'll grab lunch with you Sunday to make up for it, though."
"That would be nice," Natasha said with a smile. She liked Emma and she wanted to be closer friends with the woman, even if she was older by a good seven years. She turned back to Ruby. "In that case, only Mary Margaret and I would be able to drink."
"Technically, yes," Ruby said with a smirk. Natasha heard it in her voice and shook her head, unable to keep from smiling. "But I know the people who work there. It won't be too hard to flirt a little and be able to have a drink or two or six. I could get them for Ashley too. Really, let's go out for your birthday. You have to celebrate it the right way! You only turn 21 once."
"That's generally the point," Natasha said and laughed.
"It'd be nice to go out," Ashley said. "I don't get to do it much with the baby. Sean works extra hours to help support us; it's nice and all but…" She shrugged.
"Granny will watch Alexandra," Ruby offered. Ashley smiled. They hadn't been able to have any "girls nights" since she had had her baby. She missed being able to spend time with friends. She was lucky Sean was home this afternoon from lunch to watch their baby while she met her friends for lunch. She knew she had to get back soon.
"That'd be nice. I have to get going back to Sean and Alexandra, though, so…is this happening?" Ashley asked. Natasha nodded.
"Why not?" she said and Ashley hugged her. "We can do presents at my house first. And you guys better get me something awesome."
"Of course! See you ladies then," Ashley said and hurried out. "Oh, excuse me."
Natasha heard Mary Margaret's breath catch and lifted an ear to the doorway. She heard the footsteps and smiled. She knew Mary Margaret was attached to the man that had entered. They had recently had a few encounters that Natasha had heard about when Mary Margaret was ready to talk about them. Natasha just wished that David would wise up and realize he loved Mary Margaret as much as she loved him. He might be married, but even Natasha knew it was more of a sham than anything else. He wasn't interested in it; his heart wasn't in it.
"Go talk to him," Natasha urged but Mary Margaret just elbowed her. "Aw, come on, Mary! Just do it."
David looked up as he heard the name and blinked in surprise. Apparently, he realized, staying away from her was going to be a lot harder than he thought.
"How was dinner with your family, dearie?" his voice drawled from the shadows. She jumped.
"Would you stop that!" she snapped, her hand on her chest as she tried to calm her heartbeat. She really did hate it when he snuck up on her like that.
"Stop what?" he asked innocently, but she knew he was smirking.
"Bastard," she muttered.
"I believe my parents were married, actually," he said casually and she just laughed.
"What on earth are you doing in my rooms at this time of night?" she asked finally.
"You weren't in the drawing room." He shrugged and sat down on the foot of her bed. She sat up more and leaned against the headboard, smiling at him.
"Aw, you missed me," she teased.
"Why would I miss you, dearie?" he shot back. She just giggled.
"Your defensiveness only proves my point," she said and smiled at him. "You haven't been around much. And I missed you too so it's alright. Where have you been?"
"Making deals, collecting debts, a few things here and there. But you never answered my question."
"Dinner was…alright." She shrugged. Ever since she had been to the castle, she hadn't been able to see her father or brother. It was nice that they had finally come to visit, but she could tell things between them had gotten tense. Nathan needed to get out and really be on his own, Leah knew, but maybe there was more to it. No one had told her much yet. She hoped that maybe Red would be enough to keep Nathan at bay from totally losing it.
"Just alright?"
"Just alright. Father kept arguing with Nathan about every little thing. I'm just glad it wasn't with the king and queen tonight; they'd have been appalled at the behavior. My mother was just quiet, though. I do hope they act much better at the feast tomorrow. It won't be just the king and queen there, but a selection of knights and other noblemen! I don't need to be looked down on more than I already am for where I come from."
"Don't ever be ashamed of where you're from."
"I'm not. That doesn't mean I don't want the people at court to like me. I have my flaws." She shrugged.
"Hardly," he muttered. She blushed; he smirked. It was still enjoyable to know she was so easily affected by the words he said. "I grew up in poverty. Stayed in poverty until I became…this." He motioned to himself. Her mouth fell open and she gaped for a bit before she finally spoke.
"You…you never tell me anything about yourself," she whispered. He shrugged, or at least she assumed so from his silence. "How did you become that?"
"Oh no, dearie. We will talk about this all in due time. Now is not then," he said slyly. She sighed, but nodded. Pressing him never got anywhere. She already knew this.
"I'd like to make a deal with you," she found herself saying. He raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? And what would that be? I thought you didn't make deals, love," he purred. She blushed and turned her face down. She bit her lower lip, thinking over whether she should continue. She turned her face back up.
"I want to ask you three questions that you'll answer honestly. And I'd like three visits of three questions. Just name your price."
He thought it over. She had just given him free will to ask for anything and that thrilled him, but he didn't like the prospect of answering anything he might decide to ask. Still, he knew it was his chance to move further, to take what was his. And yet, there was one price he had been wanting to ask of her.
"Don't marry that knight of yours, Robert," he said casually. Though he pretended like it was just a silly request that meant nothing, he watched her face for her reaction. She giggled a little and then grinned at him.
"I wouldn't dream of it." Her voice was so soft, so sincere. He felt himself…relax. But that was a silly way to put it, he decided. He was already relaxed. He had no reason not to be.
"And," he decided to add, thinking better of it, "I get to ask you one question after your three questions."
"Done," she agreed and he smirked. He moved up the large bed to sit next to her. She scooted over to allow him room without even thinking about it. He tried not to laugh at her.
"And your first question, dearie?" he drawled.
"Were you ever married?" she blurted out. She bit her lip. He eyed her curiously. She was tired, he noted. Not just nervous.
"Once," he said. That was all. She frowned.
"What happened to her?" she asked softly. He was giving her the bare minimum.
"She died," he admitted. He held back the amusement in his voice. He hardly expected her line of questioning to stray here. At least, not tonight. He thought she might have stayed on the topic of how he came to be. It was refreshing, he supposed, that she didn't ask him again when he had practically told her he wasn't ready to divulge that information to her yet. Not that it mattered what she did, he reminded himself.
"Did you love anyone else after that?" she asked and yawned. She curled towards him and turned her face up, smiling tiredly.
"Yes," he said. She sighed in slight irritation. He wasn't admitting more than what she asked. It wasn't part of the deal.
"Who?" she found herself asking anyways.
"You've already asked your three questions, love," he whispered and she groaned.
"That's not fair," she said through another yawn. "You're answering so generally!"
"Then maybe you should be more specific with your questions, dearie," he teased. She just giggled and moved closer to him, pressing against his side as she lightly snuggled into him.
"I should have known better," she said softly and wrapped her arms around his arm. She used it as her pillow. He looked down at her with a half-smile.
"Yes. Now it's my turn to ask a question," he said. She turned her face up towards him. He debated on whether or not he should push her off, but then realized it wouldn't do any harm.
It was late. He had disturbed her as she was going to sleep and now he had kept her up later than she had intended. It was natural that she was tired and as he was up here with her, it was no surprise that she had decided to cuddle up to him. He didn't mind it. She was warm and seemed to find him comfortable despite his boniness, he thought. Besides, she would be plenty embarrassed when she woke up and remembered tonight. She was much too tired to take note of her actions now.
"Would you mind too terribly if I…were to visit you here again?" he asked innocently and waved his arm around her room. She giggled a little. Oh yes, she was much too tired.
"I would not mind at all," she said and yawned one more time before snuggling closer.
"Goodnight, Leah," he whispered as his free hand came up to stroke her hair. Another thing that couldn't hurt, he decided. After all, it didn't mean anything. It was just something one did when in this position. Yes, that was all.
"Goodnight, Rumpelstiltskin," she murmured.
He listened to her breathing deepen as she fell asleep against him. He thought to move, but decided against it at the moment lest he wake her. He had been the cause behind her being up so late and as her friend, the least he could do was wait until she was too deep into sleep to wake up from a little movement or a little sound before he left. She was his friend –she had decided this, he remembered. He yawned himself, but took no note of it. Yawning was contagious, he told himself. He wasn't going to be here long. Then he could go home and sleep. Sleep. Yes, he thought. That sounds good. But not here, no, in my bed. Yes. That sounds good.
Natasha tipped back the shots as Ruby handed them to her. Mary Margaret laughed at them, nursing the same drink she had gotten an hour earlier. It was only her second that night. Ashley helped Ruby pick out the next drinks for Natasha, sipping on her third drink that night. Though she and Ruby were underage, Ruby had come through on flirting with the bartender until he conveniently forgot to check their IDs. Ruby threw back every shot Natasha did –she was not going to let her friend be the only one getting smashed on her 21st birthday.
"We should get a blowjob next," Ruby laughed and Natasha grinned at her.
"That's a funny name for a drink," Natasha giggled back.
"You're not supposed to use your hands to drink it. Come on."
"I'm piss drunk," Natasha slurred. "I can barely walk straight. I won't find that drink with my mouth without dropping it."
"It has whip cream!"
"Maaaaaybe."
"You're on your own then!" Ruby did the shot anyways.
"You're a natural," Ashley teased. Ruby glared at her.
"Look who's talking," Ruby shot back. Natasha just laughed.
"Oh cool it. It's my birthday. Let's have fun!"
"You should have fun. And speaking of which, who's this mystery guy that you kissed?"
"Not telling, Ruby! He likes his privacy."
"Is that supposed to be a hint?"
"If she doesn't want to tell you, stop pressuring her."
"I wasn't asking you, Ashley. And she does have to tell me. We had a deal."
"He likes deals." The arguing pair fell silent and stared blankly at Natasha as the words fell from her mouth. She blushed. "Oops."
"Oh, Tasha," Ruby said and closed her mouth. She frowned at her friend. "Tell me it's not…"
"You didn't…" Ashley tried, but she couldn't get any further. They both turned to Mary Margaret, but she just looked at her drink and avoided them. Ruby gaped.
"You knew!" Ruby shot and turned back to Natasha before Mary Margaret could even answer. "How could you? Mr. Gold? Really? He's such a nasty old man! That's so gross, Natasha!" Natasha scowled at Ruby.
"He is not nasty," she snapped. "He is quite nice and a very fantastic kisser and I happen to like him, thank you very much!"
"So? He's old," Ashley let slip, wrinkling her nose at the thought. Natasha whirled on her.
"Oh please! He is not that old! And don't wrinkle your nose like it's gross. You stupidly got pregnant, but you don't see me judging your choices!"
Ashley and Ruby stared at Natasha in shock. Even Mary Margaret looked up from her drink and blinked in surprise. Natasha's face fell as she realized what she had just said.
"Ashley, I…"
"Save it," Ashley said bitterly and stood up. Natasha heard her rush to the bathroom and frowned, turning towards Ruby.
"I'm sorry. I didn't think–"
"No, you didn't," Ruby interrupted Natasha. She stood up and glared at her friend. "Happy birthday." She marched off to find Ashley. Natasha turned to Mary Margaret, who only regarded her quietly.
"You were all in the wrong," she finally commented. "You shouldn't have made that comment, but they shouldn't have made theirs either. It'll be ok. They'll cool down and come around eventually."
"Maybe. I don't know. I have to go. I should go. We shouldn't have come and gotten trashed off our asses anyways. Or, well, me and Ruby and sort of Ashley, I guess. I don't know. Tell them I had to go or something. I'm…I'm going to go."
"Want me to walk you home?" Mary Margaret tried, her voice now full of worry, but Natasha just shook her head and stumbled out the door.
Natasha knew how to get around. Still, being drunk, she held her Seeing Eye stick out in front of her. It didn't help much. She staggered a bit, thinking she was on the right track to the diner. After about twenty minutes of wondering, she gave up and leaned against the building closest to her with a huff. Tonight was her birthday. It was supposed to be a good one, but so far it was just shitty.
"Natasha, what are you doing out here this late?" a familiar voice broke through her thoughts. Her head snapped up and she gaped. She hadn't heard him coming.
"Mr. Gold!" she choked out. He raised an eyebrow at her slurred speech.
"And intoxicated too," he added late. She frowned at him and took a step forward.
"I was looking for you," she decided and put her finger out. She poked his chest and nodded her head as if that made her point any more clear. "I need to talk to you. We need to talk."
"I don't think you're in any fit state to have a talk right now," Mr. Gold said softly. She just shook her head at him.
"I'm fine! I'm totally fine! I've been fine! You think you of all people would see that!" she stumbled through her broken speech, her brow furrowed. "You're such an observant person, Mr. Gold, and yet you seemed to have missed everything. I…I love you! And apparently, you were too stupid to notice! It's ok. I didn't even notice it until recently. I mean, I knew that I liked you, but I didn't know just how much until I confronted you after the debate. I couldn't be mad at you after something so terrible and that would be my explanation why! You're a good man and I love you, dammit. No matter what. And maybe it's very stupid of me to be telling you this right now because I'm sooooo drunk, but better now than never, right? Right? I love you, Mr. Gold. I hardly know you, I think, but I swear up and down that I love you. I love you. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart."
The alcohol made her head fuzzy. She waited for him to say something, anything. She bit her lower lip in nervousness. Natasha felt slightly dizzy, but she wasn't sure if it was from the amount she had had to drink or the sudden touch of Mr. Gold's hand as he gently grabbed her arm and began to pull her.
"I think we should sober you up," he said softly and led her to the diner.
An hour later, Natasha nursed a cup of coffee to help lessen the headache that was still lingering. Mr. Gold had taken her to the diner and the first thing he did was put food in her. Then he had her drink a lot of water. After throwing up twice and peeing three times, she had finally gotten enough alcohol out of her system to start feeling at least a little sober. Now she sat, her plate empty from the waffles she had scarfed down in front of her while she held a cup of coffee half-filled between her hands. Mr. Gold sat across from her. All he had had was a cup of coffee since they had gotten there. He eyed her curiously now and she finally managed to gain the nerve to turn her face up to meet his gaze.
"I acted quite ridiculous, didn't I?" she said, the Advil finally kicking in. He chuckled softly.
"Just a bit," he admitted. She offered a small smile.
"I'm sorry. For what I said. I was…drunk," she said, hoping the excuse would pass. He let it slip, not pressing the issue.
"That's pretty normal. It is your 21st birthday after all," he commented dryly. She laughed a little at that.
"Yes. Yes it is," she said. "Sort of. I'm sure it's technically not anymore, but whatever. The night isn't over until I wake up!"
"That's a way of looking at it. It is late, though. Perhaps I should escort you home?"
"That would be nice, Mr. Gold," she said softly and smiled at him. "Thank you."
They walked in silence, but Natasha thought it was comfortable. She had her arms wrapped around his as he led the way. It was a nice stroll. The air was a bit chilly, but that was just early February weather in Maine. It was sort of nice, to be honest. This was nice, Natasha thought. They stopped in front of her door and Natasha fished through the purse that was on her shoulder until she found her keys. She carefully opened the door to her first floor apartment and stepped in. She turned around to face Mr. Gold, but he stayed just outside the door.
"Thank you," she said softly and took a step closer. He smiled at her.
"It was a pleasure, my dear," he said and shrugged. "Have a good night."
"It's my birthday," she said and reached out to grab his arm as he turned to leave. He turned back and raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. It is," he said gently, wondering where she was taking this excuse. She bit her lower lip and he smirked slightly.
"Please," she said. Her voice was soft; it was gentle. There was a slight pleading tone to it, but mostly it was kind, he thought. It was directed right at him and the sound of her voice made him close his eyes for a moment as he tried not to smile. "Please stay."
He didn't need another invitation. Mr. Gold stepped forward, and leaned on his cane as he pressed his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed close, kissing him back hungrily. He stepped forward, pushing her forwards. She followed him easily and heard the door close behind him. She wasn't paying any attention. She just felt herself be pressed against the wall behind her and reached up to tangle her hands into Mr. Gold's hair. Their lips never separated.
He pressed against her, his weight partially on her and partially on his cane as his free hand traveled the length of her side. The kiss deepened as she allowed him access to her mouth and his tongue found hers. The taste of syrup and black coffee mixed with faint traces of alcohol before he took her lower lip between his teeth and bit down lightly. She pressed against him even more and frowned in disappointment when he pulled his mouth away from hers. That was sooner forgotten as they strayed downwards. He gently pressed kisses along her neck, nipping and sucking along the way. Her breathing hitched and she bit her lip at the feeling. When she felt him take her earlobe between his teeth and gently suck, she moaned and arched into him.
Then his lips were on his again and he was no longer keeping her against the wall. Her hands came up to his button-up shirt and she began to frantically undo the buttons one by one as she walked backwards, leading him down the hall towards the bedroom and away from the kitchen. She pushed his shirt back off his shoulders, her lips never leaving his as she backed down the hallway even further.
It was slow going. He stopped once or twice to push her against the wall and kiss her hard. He'd let his lips stray and she'd arch against him, moaning as she ran her hands over his bare chest. She loved the feel of his skin beneath her fingertips. Finally, he tugged at the hem of her shirt. She got the picture. She leaned forwards and lifted her arms up as he pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it somewhere on the floor. His lips were back to hers afterwards and she raked her nails along his back, trying to press against him. He moaned softly against her mouth and she smiled against his lips.
Then his hand came around her back and with one hand, he unclasped her bra. He pushed her bra off and brought his hand up to cup a breast. She gasped, releasing his lips and arched into his hand. He smirked, kneading the soft mound beneath his hand. She whimpered and tangled her hands into his hair as he brought his head down. He kissed along the top of her chest, reveling in the feeling of her soft skin against his lips. He felt her chest heave and heard a moan escape her lips as he pinched her nipple, twirling it beneath his fingertips. He brushed his lips over her other breast and she gasped again, arching into him. He smirked and glanced up at her before wrapping his lips around her other nipple and sucking. She moaned and pressed herself into him, on hand on the back of his neck.
He gently tugged at the nipple with his teeth before finally pulling off of her. She whimpered in protest, but he crashed his lips into hers once more to shut her up. She gave in as they stumbled into her bedroom. She fumbled with the button to his pants, but he pushed her hands away. She felt him slide her skirt down over her hips and felt it fall to the floor. His hands lingered, grabbing at her hips, his cane now forgotten on the floor. He pushed her back onto her large queen sized bed and let himself fall down with her. They scrambled upwards, kissing and nipping and sucking at each other's skin, at any bare skin they could reach.
When her head hit the pillows, he let her take his pants off. She pushed them down and he helped her, kicking them off to the side with his good leg. Natasha arched her hips up into his and as he ground down into her, she moaned. Her hands roamed his back as his roamed her sides. She felt his erection press against her, the only thing separating them was the thin layer of their underwear.
She felt his thumbs hook into the sides of her panties and she lifted her hips up to allow him to pull them down and toss them away in one swift motion. She moved to push his boxers down to follow suit, but he swatted her hands away. She made a noise of disapproval, but he just chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
"Patience, my love," he whispered. She moaned softly at the huskiness in his voice, but it grew louder as his hand suddenly dipped between her legs.
"Oh god," she gasped as his fingertips grazed her lips.
She arched her hips up and he kissed her hard. She responded, moaning against his mouth as he finally touched her clit. He played with it, rubbing it gently but quickly. She moaned louder as her hips moved, but just as she was about to cum he stopped. He moved his hand lower and gently pressed a finger inside of her. A low moan escaped her lips as he bit at her neck again. He smirked against the skin, pumping his finger into her. She matched the rhythm with her hips, squirming beneath him.
"Oh god, please," she begged, reaching down to stroke him through his boxers. He pressed into her and bit down harder on her neck. She moaned again.
This time, when she tugged at his boxers, he let her. They were quickly tossed aside and Natasha gently wrapped her hand around Mr. Gold's cock. She brushed her thumb over the tip and he groaned into her neck. He added a second finger and pumped them faster. She let go of him, her hands moving to claw at his back as the feeling enveloped her. She moaned loudly.
"Fuck, please," she said again, whimpering. He pulled his fingers out and pressed them to her lips. She took them into her mouth, her hand grabbing his wrist. She sucked them clean, moaning against them as he did so. He growled in pleasure as he felt her press them to the back of her throat and suck hard. He pulled away and grabbed at her hips. He carefully positioned himself at her entrance and she arched up, trying to make him move.
"Please," she begged. "Oh, please fuck me, pleeeeease."
Mr. Gold smirked. He loved this feeling of power as she squirmed beneath him, begging and arching her hips into him. She pleaded with him once more, her voice hoarse and so filled with want for him that he couldn't take it any longer himself. Slowly, he pushed in. He heard her cry out as he broke through her hymen and he stopped.
"What are you doing?" she hissed, biting her lower lip as she arched against him again.
"Letting you get used to it," he said, but as he pushed himself more inside of her, she just moaned and pushed her hips up to take all of it.
"Fuck that," she bit out, clawing at his shoulders. "Just…move."
And he did. Despite his leg, Mr. Gold was able to thrust in and out of her, pounding hard and fast. She raised her hips up to match his rhythm, moaning every time he slammed into her. He felt her nails dig into his back, but he didn't care. The feeling of this was just pure bliss and nothing but.
"Oh, fuck," she hissed through clenched teeth. He looked down at her face, contorted into a twisted look of pleasure. He moaned at the realization that he was making her feel as good as he felt. "Oh fuck, yes! Oh god, yes!"
He crashed his lips into hers again and he thrust into her harder. Her moans were stifled by his mouth, but she didn't care. She kissed him back eagerly, arching into him one last time before her hips bucked upwards. He felt her walls tense around his cock and he moaned, his mouth falling away from hers. She felt the walls squeeze as she came and he rode out through his orgasm before he finally let go. His own hips bucked and he came into her, calling out as he did so.
Panting, he rolled off of her and the pair lay there, catatonic. It wasn't long. It had been rushed, clumsy, awkward at first. But the feeling of need between them had beaten out the awkwardness of it. Natasha smiled happily as she came down from the high of her orgasm. She rolled over onto her side and curled into Mr. Gold. He was all too happy to wrap his arms around her and bury his face into her hair. Their breathing slowed and she turned her face up towards him. He kissed her softly and smiled.
"I'm not done yet," he murmured a little while later. She giggled as a second wind hit them both. This time, however, they took their time.
Mr. Gold showed Natasha the pleasures of oral sex, enjoying every moment of her bucking into his face. He guided her hand as she made him cum a second time and then her mouth as she made him cum a third time. The sun was starting to rise as he pushed into her again that night, their hips moving together as they found a rhythm that worked. It was slow, it was gently, but it was just as blissful.
The pair finally fell asleep naked; Natasha curled against Mr. Gold happily as he wrapped his arms around her once more. She felt content. She had always thought that losing your virginity would feel vulgar somehow, as if you were losing all your innocence, but she hadn't found it to be that way. She instead felt right, somehow. She was comfortable, snuggled into Mr. Gold's arms. It had been everything she hoped and more. As he kissed the top of her head, she hummed happily and snuggled closer. It was absolutely perfect.
As Natasha awoke late that afternoon, she reached out. Instead of finding a warm body lying next to her, she felt the coldness of the bed beside her where had had lain just hours before. Frowning, she allowed herself to wake up a little more and pull herself out of bed. She pulled on some clothes in a hurry. She listened, but she heard nothing. She padded out of her room and through her house, kicking at her clothes from last night along the way. Biting back tears, she sank back onto her bed. She curled up on it, hugging her knees to her chest. The blissful happiness of last night vanished as she listened to the silence. If her clothes hadn't have been strewn about, she would have started to think that Mr. Gold had never been there at all. As it was, it seemed like all traces of last night had gone.
And there goes chapter 11! I'm sorry it took so long for this one. I got quite busy and I have an Italian midterm tomorrow. I managed to finish this up anyhow and post it tomorrow. I should go do some more studying though, late as it is. Ah well. I'll be alright!
Anyways, I hope you really liked it. I'm sorry if it seemed a little rushed. It sounded a lot better in my head than it did on paper, but I just couldn't seem to write it right. I told you not to count on a happy ending just yet! But don't worry; Natasha won't be so forgiving next chapter so there will be much more to come!
Please review to let me know what you think. :)
PS. I have to catch up on this week's episode. I saw that it involved Red Riding Hood's back story. Was it any good? I'll probably watch it tomorrow. I'm secretly hoping my story matches up so it can stay cannon. If not, to hell with it. I wrote about it before they put it in the show so I'm going to keep mine how it is! I'm sure OUAT will do it better, though. And once again, I do not own anything other than my OC characters. OUAT is responsible for everything else.
Thank you for reading!