A/N: Welcome to chapter 10. :)
A word of warning, there's some strong language in this chapter.
Also, please forgive the questionable editing, I'm insanely busy at work and school at the moment, so I've edited (and I use this term loosely) this chapter mostly during my lunch breaks (on my phone between bites of my sandwich) so I humbly ask you to be forgiving (although, if something looks unacceptably messed up, please be kind to let me know!).
Thank you for all your support, hope you'll enjoy!
Chapter 10
"Gomez Addams, if those notes end up on the floor, I will murder you slowly and painfully," Morticia's stern but undeniably amused voice reverberated through the kitchen but resulted only in eliciting a low growl from her lover as Gomez buried his face in the crock of her neck and his arms enveloped her waist.
"God, Tish, when you speak like this…my blood boils," he moaned into the back of her neck, pulling her flesh firmly against his.
"Gomez, you maniac, stop it," she laughed, swatting his wandering hands away and picked a stack of notes to skim through them so she could sort them into a correct pile.
"I couldn't sleep all night, thinking about you," he whispered as his lips travelled the length of her arm."You're so delicious, I can't get enough of you."
"Control yourself, you animal" she scolded half-heartedly.
He grinned at her.
"I'll try," he promised but then snatched the pile of notes from her hand and threw it carelessly on the chair.
"Gomez!" she exclaimed in outrage but then laughed gently again and turned towards him, finally giving in into the kiss.
"You taste so good," he said appreciatively, attacking her lips in a ferocious kiss. He growled low at the back of his throat before pushing her against the kitchen table.
"Gomez," she moaned as he started to kiss her neck."Don't you dare to move a single paper from this table."
"Let's go upstairs, then," he murmured against the pale column of her throat.
"Mmmm, later," she murmured softly, slipping her hands into his sleek hair."I need to finish this first."
"There's no end to mama's notes," he complained and felt her chest tremble with a small laugh. It was the truth though, it seemed that every time Morticia managed to go through the series of boxes filled with his mother's notes and sort them into a coherent whole, Eudora Addams managed to find yet another box here and there. He could swear his mother was producing those blasted noted out of thin air, for the sole reason of annoying the hell out of him.
"Fair point," she agreed. "But I have two weeks of final exams coming up, so I will be basically living in the library, hence why I want to finish it today," she explained and couldn't help but smirk when he let out a low, disappointed growl but eventually lifted his head to look at her.
"I hope you mean the library in our house because there's no way I can last two weeks without you," he remarked firmly, resting his hands on the soft swell of her hips.
She smiled and leaned forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.
"I'm afraid you're too potent of a distraction, Mr Addams," she teased."And I do have to actually study."
"I shall not interfere with your study routine, Scout's honour," he assured her and laughed when she made a face and raised her eyebrows.
"You were a Scout?" she asked, bemused.
"Hell no, but I went to a camp for pre-teen offenders. Does that count?"
"I guess," she grinned and nipped at his lips playfully.
She was relieved that he was in a much better mood today. She didn't like it when he was sulking and there was this underlying tension between them the day following their heated conversation. He didn't exactly avoid her yesterday but still spent nearly a whole afternoon occupied with various business matters in the library, or so he claimed.
She missed him.
It was ridiculous, because it was just one day after all, but the fact was that whenever she was in the Addams mansion they really spent a lot of time together - one way or another - they always seemed to seek out each other's company to the point where he's woven himself into her daily routine so completely that his absence felt like a gaping hole in her heart.
It was scary how much she seemed to need him in her life.
"How about…," he murmured softly against her lips."I'll help you finish this," he proposed nodding gently to the various piles of notes mounted on the table."And then I take you out to dinner?"
She blinked, surprised at the impromptu offer.
"Dinner?"
"Yeah, Tish, dinner. I want to take you out to dinner," he said, amused that she looked so taken aback by the idea."Just the two of us."
"Gomez," she said, not quite looking at him, her tone uneasy."I would love to - "
"But?" he interrupted knowingly and with a detectable trace of irritation.
"But...it's Saturday evening."
He frowned at her in confusion.
"So?"
"All the restaurants will be very busy and someone can see us," she explained, a little exasperated that she needed to explain herself but her tone was nevertheless apologetic. "I can't be seen with you."
She watched his jaw clench in annoyance and felt her body tense in response.
"Is there anything we can do together, then?" he asked tensely before adding sardonically."You know, besides the obvious."
"Gomez - "
"Would it be all right for Monsieur Chalon to take you out?" he prodded sarcastically and could see her eyes flash with sudden anger.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, extracting her arms from him."You're not being fair."
"Well, then that makes two of us," he spat.
She swallowed heavily, not quite sure how to respond to that.
"I thought we discussed this already," she finally said tiredly, leaning against the table, forcing herself not to look away from his heated gaze and crossed her arms against her middle." Is it more of the same? Are you deliberately spoiling for a fight?"
"No."
"It seems like you do," she challenged."We've been through this already. Why are you insisting on making this unnecessarily difficult?"
"I'm not making this difficult, you are. I just want to take you out," he responded in a frustrated tone."Why can't we just spend time together like a normal couple, is that too much to ask?"
She flinched at his words and blinked furiously, suddenly filled with a ridiculous urge to cry. He seemed to notice it because his posture softened immediately. He swore under his breath and exhaled tiredly, closing his eyes briefly, looking very much as if he didn't know what to do with himself before shaking his head in frustration.
She half-expected him to lash out at her with another string of hurtful words, but to her surprise, he didn't. He looked at her with such a startling array of emotion that she was absolutely unsure how to react and then, quite suddenly, he pulled her gently against his chest, nestling her head under his chin.
"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, she was taken aback by how tired and defeated he sounded."But it cannot go on like this for much longer, Tish."
She tensed and panicked momentarily, realizing what he meant and her heart started beating so furiously she thought it may burst in her chest.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him, even though both of them knew perfectly well what he meant.
"I understand…," he said slowly, faltering briefly."I understand that you may not feel that you can trust me with your heart, I get that but I…," he bit his lips and swallowed heavily."What you're doing...is not fair to me either, Tish."
The silence that stretched between them, his implications and the feeling of impending loss were almost too much to bear.
"I love you," Gomez finally said, gazing at her so intensely she almost forgot how to breathe." And I want to commit to you."
She shook her head and swallowed heavily, reluctantly detaching herself from his embrace.
"You can't simply demand a commitment from me, Gomez," she replied firmly but couldn't help how shaky her voice sounded.
"And you can't demand from me to prolong this charade indefinitely," he retorted with surprising calmness.
"I don't think that's fair, you know that I can't - "
"I can't go on living in twilight because you always find a convenient excuse not to commit to me."
"It's not an excuse, it's a fact. You have nothing to lose in this equation," she pointed out sharply." Yet you dare to ask me to put my whole life in the line for you."
"Yes, I do," he responded in an equally sharp tone and she couldn't decide if she was impressed or outraged by his audacity. Perhaps a little bit of both."Because there's no other way about it, Morticia."
"Because you've decided so," she challenged and he let out a mirthless laugh.
"How do you see it then?" He asked and when she didn't reply reached out and cupped her cheek with almost painful tenderness but his gaze on her was steady, purposeful."You have to make a decision. Any decision."
"Don't give me ultimatums," she glared at him.
"You might see it as you wish, but either we make some decisions or this is going nowhere," he insisted.
"You're hardly in a position to make demands, Gomez," she hissed angrily and flinched away from him.
"What is it then?" He challenged."Shall I just stand by and calmly wait for that damned brother-in-law of yours to arrange a suitable marriage for you? Where am I in all this?"
"Why is my commitment so important to you?"she asked instead.
"What do you mean why?"he asked incredulously."I love you, I want to be with you -"
"I am with you," she insisted.
"You are with me and yet some damn Frenchman thinks you are available," he pointed out.
"So what? What does it matter?" She asked jadedly."I told you already, he means nothing to me. I am here, with you and you're creating unnecessary problems."
"I want to be able to take you out to dinner whenever I want to, without making some Machiavellian schemes beforehand because you don't want your brother-in-law to know with whom you're spending your time with."
She inhaled deeply and pressed her fingers to the line of her eyebrows as if in aid to relieve a growing headache.
"It wouldn't kill you if for once you would focus on someone other than yourself, Gomez," she spat.
"I would love to," he fired back." If you stopped feeding me with excuses and half-truths."
He watched her dark eyes shine with unconcealed anger and she pressed her lips together in a visible effort to contain it but didn't reply to him.
"It doesn't matter what I do," he continued in a hurtful tone."I could give you the world and you still won't trust me. You still won't commit to me. There's nothing I can do or say to prove myself to you because you've already decided that I'm an unreliable cad -"
"That's ridiculous," she huffed dismissively."I didn't decide it, Gomez, you did. You can't put the blame on me."
"You can't hold it against me infinitely."
"Watch me then," she retorted sharply.
"God damn it, Tish," he hissed, sliding his hand through his pomaded hair in a frustrated gesture." This is not a relationship, this is insanity."
"It's not a prison either, Gomez," she retorted in a hurtful tone before adding menacingly in a slow, deliberate way."I'm sure there's plenty of other women...you know, less complicated, more amicable and willing to do whatever you bid them, take your pick. It's what would happen eventually anyway."
"Stop saying that!" he exclaimed in exasperation."I don't want other women, I want you."
"Tough luck, then."
"Why does it have to be a constant battle with you?"
"I didn't choose to argue."
"You don't want to commit to me because you don't trust me, but then when I want to make a serious commitment to you, you don't want it either, so what the hell is it, Tish?"
She looked at him hard and watched his chest expand and constrict in an effort to contain his anger. Perhaps, deep inside, she knew that it was a reasonable question but she was too angry to be reasonable. At this moment all she wanted to do was to hurt him.
She approached him slowly, so close their bodies were almost touching and she could smell the lingering scent of his cigar.
"Neither," she said in a voice that was somewhere between a whisper and a hiss and saw him flinch."I want nothing from you, you may do as you please. That's what you do best, after all, don't you?"
It was a lie.
A mean, hurtful lie and they both knew it but it was enough to do the damage she intended.
His jaw went stiff, his eyes shone with sudden moisture, she could practically feel the anger and hurt radiating from him and immediately knew she went too far but it was too late and she also knew she wasn't going to take it back either even though the guilt was already filling her heart.
His lips moved slightly as if in an attempt to reciprocate her with equally hurtful words but he seemed to have thought better of it and merely swallowed heavily, finally looking away from her and let out a defeated sigh before leaving the kitchen without another word.
She blinked repeatedly to clear her eyes that were suddenly filled with angry tears, blurring her vision. She wanted nothing more than to call after him but found herself unable to do so. She was too angry with him, with herself, with this whole situation.
And yet, it took all of her willpower not to go after him.
It took all of his willpower not to return to the kitchen and apologise, take it all back, to tell her that he will take whatever she's willing to give him but he knew, deep inside, that it would be a paramount mistake on his part.
He was too angry to talk to her anyway and would probably only make things worse.
He knew she was being deliberately cruel to him and could see the regret forming on her face the moment the hurtful words left her lips. It was always a battle of wills between the two of them.
Sometimes, he got an impression that she was purposely involving them in all sorts of competitions in this relationship, who cared most, who loved the most, who sacrificed most - and somehow, no matter what he'd done, he always seemed to come short.
Still, he couldn't help the way he felt, he couldn't go on with this relationship without some sort of commitment from her, anything more substantial than this limbo they were currently locked in. She was with him, but then she wasn't. He didn't have any claim on her other than the little she allowed him to have which in the end wasn't much.
She didn't understand how unbearable it was becoming to him to live this way, she didn't realize how much he wanted her, just to be able to be with her, to know that she belonged to him. All he wanted was to be able to love her. Love her freely and openly, to be able to feel her body against his when he fell asleep, to wake up each day next to her, to share his life with her. To be everything to her, just as she was everything to him.
He knew he took a huge gamble pushing her like he did and it could only go two ways from here but, in his mind, there was no other choice. There was simply no other way around it.
He thought relentlessly over his options these past two days. His mind constantly replayed what she's told him, also his mother's words and each time he arrived at the same conclusion - there was nothing he could say or do to convince Morticia to give him a chance. There was only one way to show her that he was eternally committed to her, that he worshipped and adored her - she had to give him a chance, she had to put her trust in him and allow him to prove himself to her.
He knew that if he didn't push her, if he didn't put their relationship in the tip of a sword, she would probably never make that decision herself, any decision for that matter. They would go in circles indefinitely.
He understood her position, truly, he did, and painfully so. Yet, at the same time, she didn't seem to even consider, never mind try to understand his.
"Well isn't that a fucking morose view," the jolly voice exclaimed at the entrance to the library and Gomez blinked, surprised he didn't even hear the front door opening.
"Bar," Gomez greeted his cousin with a welcoming smile, he was actually oddly happy to see him.
"Don't Bar me, you cad," Balthazar Addams frowned and made his way further into the room."This is what you're blowing me off for these past weeks?"he groused, pointing to the paperwork on the desk.
"I told you I was busy with work."
"I was hoping it was a metaphor for fooling around with your mother's assistant but fuckin' hell, Gomez," he waved his hand at him accusingly. "Work? This is how you're spending your Saturday evenings now - pouring over financial reports? My heart cannot take this. What's next? Warm slippers and hot cocoa with uncle Knick Knack discussing recent politics and bowel movement?"
"Gods, you're being dramatic," Gomez laughed despite himself, leaning back in his chair.
"No one has seen you out in weeks," Balthazaar pointed out."What the hell is wrong with you?"
Gomez took out a cigar from his breast pocket and shrugged dismissively.
"Nothing," he replied noncommittally."I just didn't feel like going out."
"Gomez, you're turning into a fucking hermit."
"Maybe a little bit," he admitted and grinned but his cousin only frowned at him in concern.
"Come on, it's Saturday evening, let's go out for a drink or seven," Balthazar offered with a caddish smile."Good old times. The girls've been asking about you, they thought you died or something," he added and grinned when he managed to elicit an amused snort out of Gomez.
Gomez took a slow puff of his cigar and regarded his cousin thoughtfully. He didn't particularly feel like going out, but then he certainly didn't feel like staying in for another sleepless night either. Perhaps a few drinks with his cousin was not a bad idea.
"Ugh, damn it, you're right," Gomez agreed, opening the middle drawer in the desk to take out his leather wallet."I should get out of the house more."
"Now you're talking!" Balthazaar exclaimed jovially, smacking his cousin on the shoulder."Let's go...oh, hellllooo there," he suddenly exclaimed in a purposeful drawl and Gomez didn't give to look up to see who was Balthazaar greeting in such manner."Nice to see you again."
"Hello," Morticia returned the greeting impassionately and Gomez couldn't help but smirk. He supposed mama didn't exaggerate when she mentioned that Morticia wasn't particularly fond of Balthazar because she certainly looked like she wanted to run in the opposite direction.
"How is it possible that you look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you?" he grinned at her charmingly.
"Well, sadly you look and act exactly the same," she retorted impassionately, fixing the strap of her leather bag on her shoulder, her other hand on the front door's handle.
"Leave her alone, you idiot," Gomez shook his head with hardly concealed amusement, putting the wallet in the pocket, inside if his blazer.
His cousin, however, seemed very much inclined to be chewed out.
"I'm taking Gomez for a night out of some fun, would you care to join us?" he offered silkily as they both approached the door.
"Oh, Morticia doesn't like to go out much," Gomez mentioned with a measured callousness before he could stop himself." God forbids, someone might see her."
He watched her eyes cut to his in a surprised hurt but she schooled her features almost immediately. He thought an iceberg would look more approachable, at this moment, than Morticia.
"Have fun," she retorted, still looking at him hard and pressed the door handle purposely.
Every fibre in him was screaming to call after her, to apologise, to tell her he didn't mean it, because he truly didn't and he didn't know why the hell did he say it in the first place; but he didn't do anything but stood there, next to his cousin and watched her get into the car and greet her driver with a kind but undeniably forced smile.
He could practically feel Balthazar's bemused gaze on him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, exactly?" he asked as they watched the car leave the premises of the Addams mansion, but his voice sounded more concerned than bewildered.
He was an idiot, that's what, Gomez thought bitterly.
"Nothing," he replied without looking at him."Let's go."
The music in the club was so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts but he welcomed it. His thoughts were not the place he was particularly interested in exploring any further tonight.
He ordered a neat whiskey, even though normally it wouldn't be his liquor of choice but he wanted to feel the burn of something other than this damn guilt that was currently gnawing at his insides.
"Gomez, old chap, stop glaring the hell out of this place," Balthazar sighed in exasperation."You're scaring the girls away, sulking here, looking like a fucking axe murderer."
Gomez winced at his words but didn't bother replying, nor did he bother to look more approachable.
"Fancy seeing you here again, stranger."
The sultry voice greeted next to his ear and he felt a familiar, slim hand rest at his shoulder.
"We missed you."
"Gomez is not in the mood, Cassie," Balthazar warned with a semi-amused smirk as he watched the slim woman, dressed in an extremely short, black sequin dress, sit on Gomez's laps and wrap one arm around his neck but his cousin's moody expression barely even flinched.
"Since when does he need to be in the mood?" the pretty blond woman teased, re-filling Gomez's empty glass with another whiskey.
"I'm suspecting a middle age crisis," Balthazar replied, only half-joking.
"He's not even thirty yet," Cassie rolled her eyes."Women problem, I presume?" she guessed, looking knowingly at Gomez and saw him wince slightly at her words."Awwww, who is she?"
Balthazar leaned back in his seat and regarded his cousin curiously.
"Hell, Gomez, is that what it is about?" he snorted in amusement."That raven bird who works for your mother."
"No."
"Have you gone insane?" Balthazar laughed."She's a jailbait. Is she even of a legal age to drink in this country?"
"Bar, shut up," Cassie reprimanded when Gomez glared at his companion."Are we mending a broken heart here, Gomez?" she asked, practically forcing the glass with whiskey into his hand.
"We're not mending anything," he finally replied."Nothing to mend," he added scornfully and drowned the whole glass in one go.
Balthazar shook his head gently in disbelief.
"Cassie, sugar, be a darling and get us a bottle of Roederer, will you?" he asked pointedly and the blond woman took a hint instantly.
"Sure," she nodded and slowly got up from Gomez's lap.
"Take your time," Balthazar called after her before turning back to him sulking cousin and leaned closer so he wouldn't have to shout through the loud music."You're not seriously pining after that girl, are you?"
"I seriously do not want to talk about her," Gomez retorted sternly.
"Gomez," Balthazaar sighed." She's beautiful all right but her personality just screams high maintenance. Do yourself a favour and forget about her, there's plenty of pretty birds here to choose from," he added, pointing with his hand vaguely around them but Gomez just shook his head.
"Have you never…" he started to ask but then faltered briefly, not sure he wanted to actually prod the subject.
"Have I never what?" his cousin encouraged, lightning his cigar in the process.
"Met someone...you know...special," he said finally and winced at how awfully cliche it sounded and he half-expected Balthazar to laugh at him but, to his surprise, he didn't. His cousin shrugged and watched the smoking tip of the cigar intently as if it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room.
"All women are the same, old man," he replied finally. "They are all enticing, initially, and then they complain, demand and nag - all of them."
"Even Marina?" he asked, referring to Bar's ex-fiancee. His cousin could act blase all he wanted, but Gomez was there in the aftermath of Marina leaving him at the altar after Bart cheated on her - it wasn't pretty.
"Yes, well," he smiled ruefully but didn't continue the thought.
"You were in love with her," Gomez pointed out."You made it as far as the altar. Why did you do it? Why did you cheat on her?" They never actually discussed it, the fact that his fiancee walked-in on Balthazar and her best friend in flagrante delicto. Gomez never commented on it, never judged him for it (because hell, who was he to judge anyway). He was just there for him in the aftermath of it all but Balthazar never wanted to talk about it and Gomez never pressed either but he was curious nevertheless.
Balthazar shrugged and licked his lips thoughtfully.
"I panicked," he replied simply.
"You panicked?"
"Yeah, I panicked," he admitted.
"You didn't want to marry her?"
"I did," he nodded but then smirked."Well, I thought I did but then I… I don't know, the thought that I had to spend the rest of my life with that one person - I wasn't ready for that."
"Why did you propose then?" he asked."If you weren't ready."
"I don't know," he shrugged."It seemed like a good idea at the moment and she wanted to get married."
"And you didn't."
"Sometimes I did," he grinned but it didn't really reach his eyes. "Other times I didn't but all in all I wanted to give it a go. Danielle," he said, referring to Marina's best friend." I don't know, she was there and she was willing and then...well you know the rest of the story."
Gomez nodded thoughtfully and considered what Bar's just told him.
He understood where Balthazaar was coming from, he knew that feeling very well, when women wanted more than you're ready to give but sometimes you just feel like caving in for the hell of it because who cares and why not.
That wasn't the case with Morticia, though.
When he thought about her, about being with her, marrying her, Gomez didn't feel panic, far from it. He felt excited, he longed to spend the rest of his life with this woman. He felt elevated by the mere thought of it.
She was the love of his life, there was not an ounce of doubt in his heart about that.
He just had to find a way to convince her and to do that, it was imperative that she learned to trust him first.
Just as it was imperative for him to learn to be more patient with her, which he knew was not going to be an easy task because the woman was headstrong and impossible and he was hot-tempered and impatient.
It's as if she wanted scientific evidence, in black and white, a valid proof that committing to him was worth the risk and if she couldn't find such evidence she wasn't going to take the said risk.
And the only proof he was able to provide was that he was infinitely and madly in love with her.
She's decided to be reasonable about it.
Well, to try to be reasonable about at least.
It was just an argument. People argued. Couples argued. All couples argued. It was normal, it wasn't the end of the world.
Except, arguing with Gomez indeed felt like the end of the world.
She didn't know what she's expected entering this relationship with him but she didn't know how to handle those disagreements without being cruel and hurtful towards him, it's like she couldn't help herself.
She wasn't an overly emotional person by nature, she never had much trouble with containing her emotions. She usually only cried whenever she felt overwhelmed or angry, or both.
Gomez made her feel incredibly vulnerable, whenever she was with him she felt as if she had no power whatsoever over her feelings, she felt bare. She hated that, didn't know how to handle it and her natural response was to lash out on him, to hurt him, to make him feel as vulnerable as she felt.
She didn't know how to navigate this relationship. She just knew that they couldn't just continue to tear each other apart.
She should start by refusing to feel so emotional about his decisions.
Just because he went out with his cousin, didn't necessarily mean there were other women involved. Or even if there were, surely he wouldn't do anything stupid just to hurt her because they had an argument?
She didn't think he would.
Actually, she was dead certain he would never do that to her, couldn't say why, she just knew.
She reckoned the problem of being in a relationship that wasn't necessarily defined in terms of a relationship was that Morticia wasn't exactly sure what the boundaries were.
She certainly didn't expect, for example, that Gomez would be so vexed by the fact that she went out to an art gallery event with another man. Mostly, because she didn't, not even for a second, considered Francois in any romantic terms whatsoever. Still, she didn't do anything wrong and Gomez has blown it out of proportions. It wasn't her fault if he was feeling insecure...ok, all right maybe it was partially her fault because she refused to commit to him, but then he really was making it a bigger deal of it than it was worth.
Of course, had she known that there were any rumours about her and Francois circulating the city she'd probably at least let Gomez know about her plans beforehand. As a courtesy, not because she thought she had to. It annoyed her that he thought she had to explain herself to him as if she was doing something wrong. She had every right to go out wherever she wanted with whomever she wanted.
After all, she never asked him where he went to or with whom, she thought bitterly, but then it occurred to her that she never had to ask him that because he always made sure to let her know his plans beforehand and she felt immediately rueful.
Still, why should she feel guilty if she wanted to spend an afternoon in a gallery with someone other than Gomez Addams? She wasn't cheating on him if she enjoyed the company of another man, especially if it was purely platonic in nature.
In all honesty, she wasn't sure why was this thing even occupying her mind when she had much more pressing matters to think about.
She had her entrance exams tomorrow afternoon, for example. Granted, it didn't matter whether she passed or not since, at this point, there were exactly zero chances of her attending any school of witchcraft whatsoever, but she felt incredibly anxious about the prospect that she might fail. She could not bear the thought that after all that work and effort Mrs Addams put into teaching her, she might disappoint her.
She also didn't know what to do with Gomez.
There she was, thinking about him again.
Exams, school, the upcoming meeting with her mother's doctor - all those things that demanded her urgent attention and her mind stupidly wandered off to that mad Castilian anyway.
She will give him some time and then approach the subject herself again, doing her utmost not to lash out on him and avoid being unreasonably mean - that will mean a lot of tongue biting on her part. She will have to make sure they arrived at a satisfactory solution that didn't involve her making any promises of commitment to him.
She was almost grateful when a soft knock to her bedroom door interrupted her Sunday morning musings. One of these days she will really have to learn to stop overthinking and over analyzing every single aspect of her entire life.
"Rise and shine," their housekeeper greeted her with a bright smile on her face as she entered the room.
"Fanny, it's nine o'clock in the morning on Sunday," Morticia replied, stretching languidly in her bed."Why do we have to rise and shine at such an ungodly hour?"
"Mrs Diamond wanted me to let you know that we'll be having a guest for breakfast," the older woman announced as she placed the small crystal bowl with a freshly cooked pieces of hamburger on Morticia's bedside table where a certain, small African Strangler was shielding itself from the rays of the morning sunshine. "Also, your plant likes to have her meals at the same time every day, otherwise she bites."
It was the truth. Her African Strangler practically demanded its meals at the same time every single day. It so happened that a couple of times Morticia came home later than usual and so Cleo's supper has been delayed - silly plant closed itself in and refused any food for two days in protest. Morticia had to ask Fanny to feed the plant if she was running late.
"Who on earth is coming over so early?" Morticia complained more to herself than to the housekeeper and swung her legs onto the soft, carpeted floor before picking the bowl with Cleopatra's breakfast when the realisation dawned on her."Oh no, please say it's not,-"
"Mr Diamond's mother is coming over," she nodded, smiling at the younger woman when Morticia rolled her eyes almost unwittingly.
"Splendid," she muttered. This is exactly what she needed on top of everything else, a day in the company of Dorothy Diamond."Here you go, my darling," she cooed at the plant and it immediately snatched the meat off the fork, swallowing it greedily."Cleo, really, no one is going to take that food away from you, no need to gulp," Morticia scolded gently, shaking her head in mild exasperation.
"It's just a plant, Miss," Fanny laughed gently. "You can't expect it to learn table manners."
"I very well can," Morticia retorted with a small smile, caressing Cleopatra's leaves gently to which the plant reciprocated with almost biting Morticia's finger off.
"You're spoiling this weed, Miss," Fanny smiled."It does as it pleases."
"Oh, perhaps a little," Morticia agreed."She's still a baby, though."
Fanny nodded but then looked around the room as of making sure there was no one else with them before leaning slightly towards Morticia.
"A courier delivered flowers today, bright and early," she whispered conspiratorially.
Morticia blinked momentarily in confusion.
"Flowers?" she repeated carefully. Surely, Gomez wasn't insane enough to send her flowers.
"Ay, a huge bouquet of red roses," she nodded eagerly.
Has he lost his mind or what?
"For whom?" she asked in a deliberately obtuse manner.
Fanny rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
"For you, of course," she grinned slyly."From none other but Mr Chalon," she added, cocking her eyebrow at her suggestively."He likes you."
"Oh, there he is!" Dorothy Diamond cooed in an overly excited manner." My little prince."
"Nana!" Charlie exclaimed and giggled excitedly as he ran towards them across the backyard patio where the family was currently having their breakfast. All sans Jared who, to Morticia's unbridled relief, excused himself with some unfinished business matter or other.
Which, Morticia thought, was her only consolation because the ridiculously sunny weather and their breakfast guest have done little to improve her mood.
"Look at you," Dorothy smiled at her grandson when practically flung himself on her. "You're getting bigger every time I see you. Did you sleep well?"
"No," Charlie frowned, shaking his head and eliciting an amused chuckle from his grandmother."No sleep, I don't like sleep. Mama makes me."
"Ah well, Nana has something to cheer you up," she whispered conspiratorially.
"Mother, you're going to spoil his breakfast," Ophelia objected half-heartedly when Dorothy handed Charlie a chocolate chip cookie and the boy practically shoved the whole thing into his mouth.
"Oh, let me spoil him," the older woman waved her hand at her nonchalantly."He's my precious kitten."
"Meow!" Charlie exclaimed obediently, letting the cookie crumbs fall from his mouth and onto his fresh, white polo shirt.
"All my other grandchildren are halfway across the world," Dorothy continued with a smile and kissed the boy's head affectionately while her grandson munched contentedly on a sweet treat." So... Morticia," she addressed her with a purposeful glint in her eyes."What do you think of young Mr Chalon?"
Here it comes, Morticia thought and rolled her eyes internally. Granted, she was expecting the topic to come up eventually so she just shrugged noncommittally and took a slow sip of her black coffee.
What did she think of him, indeed? Certainly, until this morning she thought he was nice and she actually quite enjoyed their visit to the art gallery. She wanted to see that exhibition for weeks, after all, nobody expressed love and angst better than Munch and it turned out Francois was also a fan of the Norwegian artist.
Ophelia, never one to miss an opportunity, suggested that they should all go together. Morticia wasn't exactly thrilled about such prospect but in the end, she must admit, had a good time. She was pleasantly surprised that Francois really knew a lot about the artist. They discussed Munch's life and inspirations, also his delightfully tumultuous affair with Eva Mudocci and ended their outing with an afternoon coffee and more conversation about art and...well that was it.
It was a nice afternoon, that's all.
How did it turn into the gossip of their impending relationship she really didn't know.
"Not much, really," she replied equivocally."I barely know him."
"Yet, I hear you've made quite an impression on him," Dorothy smiled suggestively at Morticia." He even asked Jared if he can get to know you better."
Morticia winced at her words. Perhaps it was incredibly naive of her but she never considered, not for a second, that spending time with Francois may be taken as her consent for him to pursue her romantically. Apparently, even these days one could not be friendly towards men without them immediately reading it as a sign that you were interested in them.
"Indeed?" she asked sweetly above the rim of her porcelain coffee cup."Have they also agreed on the amount of land, goats and milking cows as my dowry?"
"The man is certainly interested," Dorothy remarked, ignoring Morticia's sarcastic tone." And with this sweet disposition of yours, we better strike the iron while it's hot."
"Oh, not to worry, mother," Ophelia smiled suggestively." Morticia treated Mr Chalon with her usual charm and kindness and yet he still sent her a huge bouquet of roses."
"Makes one wonder if he's just incredibly romantic or purely insane," Dorothy wondered aloud.
"Perhaps a little bit of both," Ophelias supplied and they both smiled at each other.
Morticia resisted an urge to sigh. She really didn't understand how did she even end up in this mess.
Moreover, it was really disconcerting how her sister and Dorothy acted as if they were two steps away from planning her wedding.
Surely, her sister realized Morticia viewed this whole idea of marriage merely as a way of accessing the money in a timely manner. She certainly didn't plan on staying married any longer that it was strictly necessary, which she reckoned wouldn't be longer than a few weeks.
"He's a widower, did you know?" Dorothy said all of a sudden and both Morticia and Ophelia turned towards her in surprise.
"No," Ophelia replied and watched Dorothy nod at her in confirmation.
"His wife died in a car accident two years ago," she continued."Awful accident, their driver died on the impact, she died a few days later in the hospital."
"Oh my God, that's terrible," Ophelia winced sympathetically."What a tragedy."
Dorothy nodded again.
"His four-year-old daughter was the only survivor," she added and watched Morticia turn towards her sharply and her eyes widened at the revelation as she continued slowly, "Miracle really, she was sitting right next to her mother."
Morticia didn't even ask how Dorothy knew all the details. She always seemed to know everything about everyone. It was irrelevant because at this moment she was really lost for words anyway.
She suddenly realized that there was something familiar in his gaze. Something she once upon a time saw in her mother's eyes after papa died - this heartbreaking longing for something that can never be again.
"That poor man, this is so heartbreaking," Ophelia remarked softly. "Can't imagine what he must have gone through."
"Indeed," Dorothy agreed before adding pointedly to Morticia."Michel told me you're the first woman he showed any interest in since his wife died."
Morticia didn't reply but met her gaze steadily.
Well, great, she thought, how utterly splendid. How was she supposed to navigate that?
She didn't have a chance to ponder upon it any longer because there was a sudden commotion behind them and they all turned towards the terrace door to see their butler step out and next to him, of course, none other but the very subject of their discussion.
"I have taken the liberty of inviting Francois for breakfast, hope you don't mind" Dorothy announced with a smile and Morticia has a sudden yet overwhelming urge to tell her very explicitly what she thought of her unilateral decision."Francois!" Jared's mother exclaimed, with a clear delight in her voice."I'm so glad you could have come."
"I could never turn down such a lovely invitation," Francois replied, bowing to the older woman and placed a customary kiss on her hand and ruffled Charlie's hair in a friendly greeting to which the little boy paid exactly no attention, busy with munching on another cookie.
Dorothy smiled indulgently.
"Well, we could not have simply allowed you to go back to France without a proper goodbye now, could we?" she asked softly, turning slightly to Morticia as if expecting the younger woman to confirm her words but, quite unsurprisingly, was met with silence and a blank stare. Dorothy cleared her throat gently."We were just talking about you, actually."
"You have?" Francois let out a slightly self-conscious laugh before greeting Ophelia but his eyes seemed to linger on Morticia."I hope only good things?"
"We were just marvelling what a beautiful bouquet you've sent to our dear Morticia," she remarked.
"Oh, I saw it on my way to the hotel and its beauty reminded me of you," he said and turned to Morticia with a charming smile but the woman in question barely moved a facial muscle."I hope you liked them."
"She loved them," Ophelia replied when Francois was greeted with another blank stare and stony silence from her sister.
Francois smiled understandingly at Ophelia.
"I hate to be so direct," he said gently."But I was wondering if I could have a word in private with your sister?"
"Naturally!" it was Dorothy who replied and practically dragged both her daughter-in-law and her grandson back into the house before Morticia had so much of a chance to blink.
Morticia decided that if there was ever a good time for the world to end, she couldn't think of a better moment than here and now. She really, really, really wished to be anywhere but here, with anyone but him.
"I can't help but notice that you seem upset with me," Francois remarked softly as he tentatively sat next to her on the metal garden bench."Didn't you like the flowers I sent you? You said you like roses."
"I like roses," she replied impassionately, finally turning to look at him.
"Is that the reason you cut all the blossoms off?" he asked in an amused tone, raising his eyebrows at her.
"I like them much better this way," she replied succinctly.
He laughed gently and shook his head in amusement.
"You're so unique," he said adoringly but again failed to elicit even a shadow of a smile from the ebony-haired woman. He shifted, somewhat nervously before clearing his throat ."Have I done something to upset you?"
The question, asked in a soft, inviting tone, was met with an almost glacial stare.
"You've asked my brother-in-law if you could court me?" she replied in her soft, gentle voice but there was an unmistakably mocking frost to her tone.
"I meant no offence," he raised his hands in a gesture of defence.
"Indeed?" she asked in mild disbelief."How quaint, for I certainly find the idea quite offensive. One would think we have left this kind of nonsense somewhere at the beginning of the century."
"I'm a traditional man," he explained with a soft shrug of his broad shoulders."I meant it as a gesture of respect, it wasn't my intention to cause offence," he added, sincerely."I'm truly sorry if I did."
"Treating me as a commodity and spreading rumours is hardly a gesture of respect, Monsieur Chalon," she retorted coldly.
He frowned, obviously taken aback by her hostile tone.
"I might be unintentionally guilty of the first offence," he admitted sheepishly."But I'd never spread rumours... about anyone," he admitted."I'm not that kind of man."
"I'm not in the mood to play games, Francois" she replied and stood up from the bench in a defiant manner.
"I would never do that," he defended, standing up as well."I like you," he added fervently."I really like you, Morticia, I would never disrespect you. I have no idea what rumours are you talking about, you must believe me."
She narrowed her eyes, observing him carefully but she could not find any deception in his eyes. He seemed genuinely contrite.
"The whole city," she started slowly, but faltered, suddenly unsure how to phrase it."People gossip…"
"About you and me?" He guessed and smiled at her in a very unconcerned manner when she nodded at him."Does it bother you?" He prodded.
She bit her lips into a thin line thoughtfully, momentarily pondering how to answer him because the truth was - it didn't.
Gossips didn't bother her per se, if someone had so much time on their hands to fill their day with rumours about her, then she supposed she could only pity them and the fact how utterly dull their lives must be.
However, it did bother her because she didn't appreciate such a mindless talk to cause a rift between her and Gomez. She absolutely hated arguing with him, she hated it more than she could put it into words.
"It's rather disconcerting that everyone seems to know more about my affairs that I do," she replied instead, crossing her arms against her middle in a defensive manner.
"People always gossip, it's in their nature" he nodded understandingly."You should not allow it to bother you."
"Well, you certainly do not look concerned," she observed.
"I admit, it's difficult for me to feel offended that people spread rumours about us being romantically involved," he smiled softly."Although, I admit that it escalated rather quickly," he added as an afterthought.
Morticia closed her eyes briefly and sighed tiredly, forcing her manner to relax.
"Francois -"
"I know we've just met," he interrupted her gently." I understand this is all too fast, even for me...this has never happened to me before, it feels insane, I realize that but…," he faltered and took her hands gently into his before looking straight into her dark, expressive eyes."I think you're absolutely amazing, I'm in complete awe of you, Morticia."
She shook her head gently.
"You know nothing about me," she insisted but didn't extract her hands from his.
"I wish nothing more but a chance to get to know you better," he whispered, looking at her softly.
"I'm not looking for love, Francois," she replied frankly.
"Have you ever been in love, Morticia?" he asked, watching her curiously.
She faltered only briefly before shaking her head gently.
"No," she lied."And I'm not planning to be."
He laughed in amusement.
"One can hardly plan to fall in love," he smiled indulgently."It just happens."
"But one can choose whether to surrender to it or not," she retorted insistently.
"Ah, if it only were that simple," he said, squeezing her hands gently but then looked at her seriously." I do not wish to pressure you, I know it may seem too fast for you and you're very young but... I am very serious about you. I feel the connection to you in a way I haven't felt for…," he swallowed heavily and gazed at her tenderly before admitting sadly," For quite some time. All I ask is for us to get to know each other better before we decide on anything, no harm in that is there?"
"Francois," she started slowly, finally gently extracting her hands from his." I like you...just...not in the way you want me to. I could never love you," she admitted bluntly but to her surprise, he only smiled at her.
"Ah, my dear Morticia," he remarked in light amusement." Love doesn't just strike you like lightning, people grow and learn to love each other," he explained patiently before looking at her deeply. "I could certainly see myself in love with you."
"I couldn't," she replied firmly and she realized suddenly and violently, how much she meant it. She knew, with irrevocable certainty that she could never love him. Not him nor anyone else who wasn't Gomez Addams despite the fact that she realized, painfully so, what an utter fool she was to love him.
Here was the man who might have been the safe harbour she longed for - reliable and dependable, and yet...the mere thought of being with someone other than Gomez was to her repulsive.
"Time will tell," he retorted kindly."Give me a chance, that's all I ask."
"You're wasting your time," she insisted but he shrugged gently.
"Any time I spend with you," he whispered."Is not a time I'd ever consider wasted."
Morticia fully realized that life was not just lovely thorns and singing vultures but she wished fate or life or God or whoever was in charge would be more considerate with their timing when throwing at her all this insanity.
She felt more than a little overwhelmed.
Things between her and Gomez were...well she supposed they were rather tense after their conversation slash argument on Thursday and then a follow up on Saturday. Although perhaps tense was really a mild term for it. She didn't have a chance to speak to him since Saturday, because she was yet to step a foot in the Addams mansion.
It still bothered her, though, because she hated to hurt him and she hated arguing with him. However, there was little she could do about it at the moment. She had her entrance exams in exactly forty-two minutes.
On top of that, tomorrow morning Ophelia and herself had a meeting with the Swiss doctor to discuss her mother's treatment and that, more than anything else, made Morticia extremely anxious.
She also guilty because somehow she failed to resolve this thing with Francois in a manner that would be deemed final and satisfactory. Granted, she didn't promise him anything but didn't exactly rebuke him either. He was very persistent, she had to give him that but then again what was she supposed to do? How could she turn him down, when he merely asked to get to know her better, without revealing exactly why this was a hopeless case for him? What was she supposed to say, that she didn't want to get to know him better because she's madly in love with one of the biggest womanizers this town has ever seen?
Michael was of an opinion that she should simply tell Gomez about the whole situation with her mother, the treatment and inheritance and go from there but she found herself hesitant to do so. She didn't want him to feel sorry for her, she didn't want him to be with her out of some chivalrous sense of duty because he felt it was his duty to help her - it wasn't. It had nothing to do with him.
Still, Michael had a point, she couldn't just keep this whole thing secret from him, it was unthinkable. She also didn't think he would take kindly to her idea of business marriage either - to put it mildly.
Elena, however, thought Gomez was behaving like a cad (paraphrasing) and he had no right to essentially demand any commitment from her if Morticia didn't want to commit to him (again paraphrasing). She too had a point. Except, it wasn't that Morticia didn't want to commit to him, she wanted to. The issue here was -
"I still think he's being an arsehole," Elena concluded stubbornly."If a guy talked to me like that, he'd be speaking a couple of octaves higher."
" And I, for one, insist that it's a good thing that he wants to commit to her," Michael interjected sternly, ignoring Elena's outraged inhale of breath.
"He's basically told her she either commits to him or its over."
"He might have phrased it awkwardly -"
"Jackass -"
"But he has a point," he insisted." Tish, you hesitated going into this relationship because you were afraid he would never seriously commit to you, then you went into it never expecting it to last, but it turns out this guy really wants to be with you and it seems to me you don't know how to handle it because it's not what you expected... are you sure it's the right place?" he asked suddenly, somewhat doubtful as they drove slowly among the complex of seemingly abandoned buildings.
"Positive," Morticia replied, silently considering his point.
"Because it looks like a place where Cosa Nostra disposes of dead bodies," he insisted.
"I'm too nervous to appreciate the scenery, Michael."
"Are you sure you're ok, Tish? You look very pale," he observed and she looked at him as if he just said the most idiotic thing in the universe." I mean paler than usual."
"I feel fine…," she assured meekly because actually, she had an overwhelming desire to just give up and go home." There's no way in hell I can pass this exam anyway."
"Hey, what's with the negative talk?" Elena turned towards her from her front seat." You'll do great, and then we'll all go have a nice dinner and get drunk."
"Sounds like a plan to me!" Michael grinned at her in the rear-view mirror.
"I never get drunk," she pointed out."Besides, it's Monday. Who gets drunk on Monday during the finals week?"
"Yeah, okay fair point. It's still my life mission to get you drunk, though," Elena supplied."Everyone should get drunk at least once in their lives."
"Nah, Tish is a class act," Michael grinned and winked at her."She doesn't get wasted. She's a lady."
Elena turned to him sharply and narrowed her eyes.
"And what am I, chopped liver?"
Michael laughed sheepishly.
"I'm not answering that," he retorted and Morticia couldn't help but laugh.
"What do you mean by that?" Elena insisted, pinching his forearm.
"Here's the building!" He announced cheerfully.
"You do realize her exam lasts for three hours, right?" Elena pointed out, jabbing her manicured finger into his arm."So you're not getting away from this conversation."
He stopped the car and turned to her with an utterly confused expression on his face.
"What conversation?" he deadpanned.
Five minutes later they found themselves in a tall industrial building that looked very much like it was going to collapse any minute. They made their way through the myriad of long corridors until they arrived in a grand hall (or something that once upon a time was supposed to be a grand hall) where there was already a sizeable conglomeration of people waiting, some talking animatedly, some sitting in the corners cramming last minute studying before the exam.
"Well, this is disappointing," Michael commented, wrinkling his nose in dismay, as he looked around the array of young people in the hall and their parents.
"What did you expect, pointy hats and magic wands?" Morticia snickered.
He snorted.
"Well, yeah," he deadpanned."I mean look at them, what the hell is this? They're just normal people waiting to take their hocus pocus exam."
Morticia shrugged.
"Sorry to disappoint," she remarked in amusement." If it makes you feel any better, Gomez's great aunt Calpernia was burned as a witch in 1706," she supplied in a matter of fact voice.
"You're kidding?" Elena turned to her sharply, her jaw dropping slightly at the revelation.
"They say she danced naked in the town square and enslaved the minister."
"That's so cool," Elena said in awe."She'd be my hero."
Michael shook his head in disappointment, before turning back to Morticia and pointed to Elena in an accusing manner.
"You see what I'm saying?" he complained."How come just a hundred years ago people would consider burning you on a stalk for just mentioning witchcraft and these days you tell someone 'hey, I'm a witch' and they react as if you just told them you're doing yoga before breakfast? Where is the mystery? The adventure, the hidden world of witchcraft?"
"Michael, please," Morticia rolled her eyes."You read too many fantasy books. I buy all the ingredients for potions at the local farmer's market."
Michael stared at her, unblinkingly.
"That's...that's just tragic," he exclaimed dramatically."And nobody uses magic wands?"
Morticia made a face and actually laughed out loud.
"There's no such thing."
Michael sighed in disappointment, slouching his posture dramatically.
"My whole childhood is a lie," he muttered in defeat, eliciting another soft laugh from Morticia.
"Well damn, what is he doing here?"
Morticia frowned and turned to where Elena was pointing and her lips immediately curled into an involuntary smile.
There he was, standing against the wall, surprisingly without his ubiquitous cigar in hand, looking like he didn't have a care in the world or couldn't be bothered to care anyway. She chose not to ponder upon how ridiculously grateful she was to see him, that he was here for her despite their fight.
"Why does he always look like he's been taken straight from the cover of GQ?" she heard Michael ask behind her and let out a small laugh at his remark.
"I thought you said you two had an argument," Elena remarked in confusion."And he was being a jerk."
"I didn't say he was being a jerk," she denied immediately.
"Well, I read between the lines."
He seemed to feel her gaze on him because he turned slowly towards them and his face brightened the moment his eyes caught hers and a small smile graced his lips as he made his way towards them in his usual purposeful, confident stride but his gaze was guarded, unsure, as if he was afraid she will not want him here.
"I didn't expect you to be here," she said in a matter of greeting.
He bit his lips and his gaze shifted briefly t the floor before he looked up at her tenderly.
"It never occurred to me not to be here," he replied simply and could swear there was a squeal of delight from where Michael was leaning against the wall and a soft, sceptical grunt where Elena was standing next to Morticia with her arms crossed, glaring daggers at Gomez."Do you mind to give us a moment?" he asked tentatively.
"Sure thing," Michael agreed immediately before placing a soft kiss on Morticia's cheek."Good luck, Tish."
"Thanks," she smiled gratefully.
"Wait, hold on," Elena objected."Why are we leaving her alone with this je-" she started to protest but to no avail because Michael covered her mouth with his hand and grinned at Gomez apologetically.
"We'll be at that small coffee place near the entrance," he informed Gomez, ignoring his friend's unhappy growl and all but dragged her with him down the eastern corridor.
Morticia looked at Gomez, her lips curling into a small, rueful smile.
"Sorry...about that, she's a -"
"She's right," he interjected and returned her smile."I was being a bastard," he continued in a soft voice."I was angry but that was no reason to behave like an ogre. I don't know why I keep saying things like that, I don't mean them. It's stupid and juvenile."
She nodded.
"It is," she agreed."But I was out of line as well."
He nodded and swallowed audibly before continuing.
"I'm...I'm really trying, Tish," he whispered."And it...it hurts that you constantly keep me at arm's length. It's - I want to be there for you, I want it more than I can put into words but I...I can't if you won't let me, do you understand?"
She looked at him tenderly and rested her hands gently on his broad chest.
"I understand," she nodded."I'll try, Gomez," she added in a soft whisper."I promise...to try - I will try, "she corrected herself." But you have to give me some time. Don't pressure me like that, I can't just -"
"I won't," he promised and cupped her cheek gently."As long as we're honest towards each other. No lies, no half-truths. We have to learn to trust each other, no matter what."
She knew what he was asking of her and she couldn't say she felt particularly ready. In fact, she felt more than a little apprehensive about the prospect but found herself nodding at him in agreement.
"I will try, Gomez," she promised again. She thought that was the best she could do at the moment and he smiled at her tenderly, seemingly content with her answer. "I must be the oldest person here," she complained suddenly, fisting her fingers nervously into the lapel of his blazer.
"Also the most beautiful," he grinned and was pleased when she smiled at him."You're brilliant and you will do great," he assured but she bit her lips, looking at the people around her, and muttered something unintelligible under her breath before lifting her head to look at him again.
"Let's just forget the whole thing," she proposed. "Let's go home and have sex."
"Request denied until further notice," he retorted in a deadpan manner."You vixen."
She laughed again, but her voice was more than a little shaky. He has never seen her so stressed before.
"Thank you," she whispered."For being here. It really means a lot."
He smiled gently and leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips.
"Deep breaths, Tish," he smiled encouragingly before placing another soft kiss to her forehead."You look like you're about to faint."
"I think I might," she admitted in a soft whisper.
"Faint away, I'll catch you. Always."
Gomez Addams hesitated momentarily before stepping into a small, shabby-looking coffee shop, for some reason he suddenly felt apprehensive at the prospect of spending the next three hours in the company of Morticia's friends. Especially when one of them didn't seem to particularly like him at all.
Although, on the other hand, he needed all the help he could get to move this relationship to where it should be and he could use some people on his side.
He ordered a double espresso before locating the pair at the couch near the crumbling cement wall and slowly navigated through the tables to join them.
"I must admit I haven't expected you to be here," Elena stated, motioning the seat in front of her." For a hopeless dandy, this is an extremely sweet gesture."
"Jesus, El…" Michael rolled his eyes."Give the man a break."
"I might if he stops acting like an entitled jerk."
Michael opened his mouth in outrage and he thought about saying something, anything to calm his friend but Gomez lifted his hand and gave it a gentle wave that indicated that he wasn't offended at all.
"She didn't say anything I haven't heard before," Gomez smiled and took a casual sip of his espresso before taking a fresh cigar out of his breast pocket and offering it to Michael."And she's right."
"Male solidarity," Elena commented sardonically, cocking her shapely eyebrow at him."How adorable," she added before snatching the cigar from Gomez's hand." He doesn't smoke," she smirked, nonchalantly placing the cigar between her lips.
He smiled and flicked his vintage lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of her cigar.
"I don't understand you, though," Elena continued, puffing slowly on the cigar and made a face, coughing a little."God, this is strong," she commented, frowning at the cigar."Why did you think it was a good idea to pressure her into a committed relationship?"
Next to her, Michael groaned in exasperation.
"El, come on, it's none of your business."
"In my defence, I didn't think it was a good idea," Gomez replied sardonically.
"So, that's the best idea you could come up with?" She asked and then with a look of utter disdain, jabbed the cigar into an ashtray."This is disgusting, how do you smoke this?"
He shrugged.
"I smoke since I was five," he admitted.
"Five…," Elena blurted, not entirely sure she heard him correctly."As in five-years-old?"
He nodded.
"Mother insisted."
She couldn't help but smile at the sight of the trio waiting for her against the wall and was quite happy to notice that Elena no longer looked like she wanted to bite Gomez's head off.
"So, how did it go?" Elena asked the moment Morticia reached them.
Morticia took a deep breath before finally answering,
"Either I completely aced it," she replied with a small smile."Or I flunked the hell out of it, I really cannot tell which one at this point."
"You aced it," Michael assured."You never flunked an exam in your life."
"I guess we'll find out in three weeks," she remarked."I'm just glad it's over. Thank you for staying, you must have been bored out of your mind waiting."
"Are you kidding?" Elena asked, cocking her eyebrow at her."We've got to spent three hours with Mr Addams here and interrogate him about your sex life."
Morticia blinked and stared at her friend incredulously for the whole of five seconds.
"You didn't," she blurted.
"She did," Gomez confirmed, grinning at her obvious embarrassment."Well, she tried."
"He was most uncooperative," Elena sighed in disappointment.
"Although, we got ourselves invited for the Addams annual Halloween party," Michael pointed out happily.
"Oh, yeah, did you know that Gomez's uncle had thrown an axe at his own wife at last year's party and then everyone joined in and had a jolly family brawl?" Elena grinned excitedly." Eleven injured, house for the total renovation. Just how cool is that?"
"Don't forget that his great uncle was best friends with none other but Jack the Ripper," Michael supplied.
Elena nodded vigorously.
"Gomez promised to teach us how to expertly throw an axe, so we won't feel left out at the party."
Morticia turned slowly to Gomez who looked all too pleased with himself.
"I leave you with them for few hours and you turn them into two maniacally excited five-year-olds," she scolded half-heartedly.
"I'm a charming fellow," he remarked casually, linking his hand with hers and placed a small kiss to her knuckles, eliciting a soft smile from her.
"I'm starving," Elena remarked and as if to prove her point her stomach rumbled loudly.
"So am I," Gomez concurred."And I know just the place," he announced and motioned his head into the direction of the exit door for others to follow.
Elena was about to follow the pair when she felt Michael's fingers curl around her arm to stop her and she looked at him quizzically.
"So," he whispered conspiratorially as they watched Gomez and Morticia make their way towards the exit, their hands linked, talking in the barely audible, soft tones."What do you think of him?"
"I think he's still a jerk until he proves otherwise," she declared with a soft snort before her lips curled into a small, content smile." That being said, if I had someone who looked at me the way he looks at her," she remarked pointedly."I would marry them in a second."
A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. :)
