i am so sorry for the long delay in updating! things just got really crazy all at once, but now i hope to be much more regular in posting chapters. so here we go with chapter 9. thanks to all who read & posted reviews!
disclaimer: nothing's changed. nothing is still mine.
Chapter 9: Silently
She hoped 5 am wasn't too early. But sleep just would not stay with her. So instead of forcing herself to sleep, she quietly left her room and took to exploring the darkened house.
The early morning light was casting elongated shadows as she walked down the silent corridor. It reminded her of something out of a haunted castle almost, yet she was no where near afraid. She came upon glass pane doors that opened up onto a balcony. Relieved to find them unlocked, she quickly slipped outside, the early morning chill already biting at her cheeks.
But this was worth it. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at the fading stars. She remembered the nights she and Malin would stargaze. She knew he hated it, but he only did it because she did. But looking up at the star studded sky had long been a personal comfort and friend to Evelyn, long before Malin.
"Morning Ev." She spun quickly around, startled beyond word, but relaxing at Bruce's warm, though sleepy smile.
"I'm sorry," she quickly rambled, "I didn't mean to wake you." Immediately she regretted saying anything, since after all they had slept in different wings of the house.
"Don't be," he said dismissively, walking towards her, open robe swaying in the chilly breeze, "sleep does not easily find me some nights; but once it does, I could sleep forever."
"Sounds great to me." She turned with a small laugh back towards the sky.
"I was up and heard doors opening. Figured Alfred was up doing something this early—I'm surprised it's you." He said softly, gently, stopping beside her.
"Looking at the stars was about the only consolation I could find to keep from contemplating suicide before medicine. Just knowing that while everyone around me had someone, there were stars—millions of miles a part—just as alone and empty as I felt." She simply said, hating how trite it sounded.
"How is it now?"
"With medicine, you mean?" She shrugged. "The emptiness starts to fill up, and the hopelessness that covers each day tends to fade away to the background, freeing my mind to focus on other things—principally work."
"I see," he nodded understandingly, "so what draws you here this morning?"
"Truthfully?" She asked almost embarrassedly. "Convincing myself this is real. It doesn't seem real."
"Why is that?" He asked, unable to let his eyes leave her. Silently she turned to face him and shook her head uncertainly before turning her eyes to the ground as though embarrassed.
Ev could find no words—too many feelings, most of which revolved around him at this point, filled her for her to find words. A strong, gentle hand fell around her right arm and she felt his arm encircle her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Instinctively she leaned her head back, new feelings washing over her.
Slowly, almost cautiously, he brought his head down to her neck, gently kissing her. Her eyes fell closed and she fought to keep a smile from her face, especially as she felt another warm kiss higher on her neck.
Without even thinking, she turned her head and met his eyes for a split second before feeling his lips against her own. Nothing demanding or wanting or expecting…just a feeling, an exploration of what could come. All in one moment, for them both, nothing was the same. As if suddenly realizing it, they pulled apart—both with flushed cheeks and seemingly at a loss for explanation.
"I shouldn't have done that." He suddenly, softly said.
"Probably not. No reason for us to be together." He nodded, unable to understand what had possessed him to kiss her—it just felt right for the moment. But now that it was over…it didn't make sense. But as they both stood there, sorting through what had just happened, neither made moves to pull out of their embrace.
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He left her soon after that, making it a most awkward goodbye. And all day, as she explored around his house, the feel of his lips still lingered on hers. She found herself longing to feel his kiss again, but felt certain she wouldn't.
And proof enough was that, once again, Bruce had just disappeared. All Alfred would tell her was that Mr. Wayne had "business matters" to attend to. But on a Sunday afternoon, all that had done was fuel her curiosity.
Was he working on actual business…or Batman business? The latter of the two sounded far more interesting, and as she freely explored his grand mansion, borderline museum, of a home, she kept secretly hoping she would stumble upon his Bat-office.
But no such luck. Instead, she'd found a piano, pristinely tuned with a clear, reverberating sound to it. She couldn't resist it, so she spent the majority of the afternoon playing through the memorized music in her repertoire as well as some sheet music found in the bench.
Hours went by and she didn't even see Alfred, much less Bruce. And it was only as the room started to darken as the sun set did she even begin to seriously wonder where they were.
She drifted up from the piano bench and left the sitting room, wandering out in the hallway, looking and listening for any signs of life.
"Alfred?" It was a bit unnerving to hear her own voice echo so clearly in someone's home. She turned to her right. "Bruce?" But still no answer or anything. She sighed as she stepped back into the sitting room, deciding that someone would come find her sooner or later. She glanced back at the piano, her breath catching in her throat, jumping a step back.
"OH…Bruce you startled me."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
"Where did you come from?"
"Pardon?" He looked at her, a confused smile on his face.
"Just now…I've been in here all afternoon, and just stepped out for a minute, and you were nowhere. And now here you are." He shrugged innocently, playfully. "Probably a hidden, secret passage somewhere…billionaires…," she said, walking over closer to him, "who knows—you could have been spying me all afternoon."
"I wouldn't do that."
"Oh, you just might." She raised a pointed finger and poked him in the chest.
"You shouldn't do that," he playfully, lightly warned, "I just might be ticklish." Her head flew back in laughter, and Bruce loved the way it echoed off the marble floors. Almost made the manor feel like a warm home once again.
"You…? Bruce Wayne…ticklish?" She asked through her laughter, unable to believe he actually suggested it.
"Alright, maybe I'm not," he agreed laughingly, "are you?"
"Me? Well I'll just save you the trouble, and tell you I'm not." She turned from him, not trusting that surprisingly playful gleam in his brown eyes. His arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, as he took to tickling her mercilessly.
"Bruce…NO!" Her shrieks of laughter and protest rang throughout the sitting room and she buckled her knees, sinking to the floor in hopes of stopping him. But he stayed right with her, letting him be pulled down by her. She fought against him, trying to pry his hands away, twisting around under his weight, trying to scoot away from him.
"Master Wayne?" Alfred's loud call made them both freeze. Bruce's head shot up, meeting Alfred's curious smile.
"Yes Alfred?" Bruce hesitantly asked, a note of almost undeterminable embarrassment on his voice.
"Just informing you both that dinner is served."
"Thank you Alfred." Bruce said as he quickly rose, before helping pull Ev to her feet.
"If you both don't mind, I'd like to freshen up just a bit. So I will join you in a few." She exchanged a most thankful look with Alfred before turning to Bruce with a warm look so tainted with embarrassment and mirth, before quietly exiting the sitting room.
"She's a special one, that one," Alfred commented, before turning to meet Bruce's playfully-glaring closed mouth smile, "you've not laughed or smiled so much in years."
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Where had that Bruce Wayne come from? She would never have pegged him to do something as childish as tickle her. It was bewildering…refreshingly bewildering.
And all throughout dinner, she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him to make him change. It was almost as if he'd found something this afternoon he thought he would never find. She couldn't peg it, and while she loved this newfound lightheartedness, she couldn't help but wonder.
Their dinner was spent mainly swapping stories of travels—she told stories from her life in Swansea and he shared bits of his odyssey over in China/Tibet. And all of it only furthered the deepening of their relationship. Just how deep it had gone—well after this morning, Ev didn't know for sure. But she knew every moment she spent around him was every moment in the future she hoped to still be with him.
Stomachs full of another scrumptious meal, heads beginning to lighten thanks to the merlot and eyes alight with laughter, they wound their way back towards the warm living room.
"I think, if I were to live here, I would gain three hundred pounds within a year. Alfred is a wonderful cook."
"Confession—he usually does not cook like this all the time. When there is company over, he feels the need to make something more than just the simple meals he makes daily."
"Even still—I would bet those 'simple meals' are still better than average. You're very lucky to have him. He seems like he's been a great friend and comfort over the years."
"He's been there ever since the day my parents were killed, and every day before that."
"Good—glad to hear you haven't been completely alone…however much you may have wished it. Sounds like Alfred has helped keep you grounded in your sanity."
"More than anyone will ever know." He said lightheartedly, a chuckle on the end of his words. Ev, too, couldn't help but laugh softly, reaching for her wine glass.
"By the way, I love your accent," he simply, suddenly said, "it sounds," he searched for the word, "foreign." She laughed quietly as she watched him shrug his shoulders almost embarrassedly.
"Well…that tends to happen when someone comes from a different country that is not your own. If you were from the UK, you'd sound this way too." That's when she saw it. The painting on the wall.
It couldn't have been slanted last night when they were in here…she surely would have seen it then. She swallowed and breathed hard, forcing her eyes back to Bruce, pleading with herself not to lose it in front to him.
"Ev? Is everything alright?" He watched her quickly meet his eyes before darting across the room and back again. "Is there something on the wall? Out the window?" He studied the wall she seemed to fixate on, unable to understand what it was.
"It's…um, something on the wall…actually." She forced herself to say, knowing now this would be the end of it all. What could a billionaire with an image to maintain want with a depressed OCD sufferer now?
"Something on the wall?" She nodded mutely.
"I'll…tell you in a minute." She held up a shaky finger as she moved determinedly across the room, and set about meticulously straightening the wall hanging. Bruce could only stare at her, his face blank, his eyes swirling with confusion.
"The chemical imbalance that caused the chronic depression has now manifested itself in a small case of obsessive compulsive disorder." She quietly said, her head downcast as she slowly crossed back around the sofa. "Seems my mind is just wired to have problems. When one route is closed with medicine, it finds another way to surface."
"Surely there is something they can do for that…."
"Not with a case as mild to nonexistent as mine, so they say. My obsessions aren't—what was their word?—'severe' enough to merit medicine." She shook her head laughingly. "Not yet, at least."
"So for right now, its crooked wall hangings?"
"Yes…and in times of extreme stress, the compulsions surface. But that's it. Relatively harmless actually, just bloody annoying."
"Most mental handicaps are, I find." She looked over and couldn't help but meet his knowing, downcast smile.
"That's right, I'm not drinking alone here." He shook his head, unable to stop smiling. He was finding she had that affect on him.
"So what do you say we move to a more frivolous topic?" He gently suggested, watching surprise register in her eyes for but a second. Wasn't he going to discard her…what with the depression and the OCD…what could she possibly mean to him now?
"Sure…you mean like the weather, or our favorite colors, or past heartthrobs?"
"Ever been in love before?"
"Once…or so I thought," she paused, as though unable to believe she'd answered, a distant smile suddenly forming on her face, "twelve years ago I met him—Malin. Dr. Malin Blood."
"Dr. Blood…of medicine?"
"Sort of—he was apart of the psychiatry corps in the RAF. We met through my father. We were just friends for a good three years, until he cornered me, courtesy of my father, diagnosing my dysthymia. It took another nine months for my psyche to stabilize before our relationship took a much more intimate turn. Not even one month later we were engaged. But then suddenly, as things have a tendency to do, all was shot to hell," she shook her head, as though attempting to understand something she couldn't, "I guess I should have known better with an RAF serviceman. The aircraft he was aboard went down in a storm off the Irish coast, for reasons unknown." She trialed off, and Bruce found nothing to say. "Officially, its known as an unofficial accident—since no one can say what did go wrong. So now, it's completely forgotten about, the only remnant being the holes left by Malin and four others."
"And your…condition didn't worsen after his death?"
"No…well, the depression didn't. That's where the OCD came from though," she shook her head, almost embarrassed by earlier, "but I only kept up the medication and psychotherapy, because I knew it's what Malin would want. By that time, it didn't matter to me."
"So I have him to think for your sanity?" He asked lightheartedly, watching her smile ever so slightly.
"You have him to thank for keeping me alive." Ev still kept her gaze on the fire, as Bruce watched her, surprised to see no tears in her eyes. "Well after Malin," she turned to face him, "love has never played into my life—attraction and affection most certainly—but not love. Up until recently, it's been hard to see how it could ever exist," again she paused as though considering her words, "just when it seems things couldn't get any better, the world shatters around you."
"How true." Bruce couldn't help but agree—that one night he had been walking with his parents one minute, staring at their lifeless bodies the next.
"So, what about you? I've told of my past love…now it's your turn. So much for a frivolous topic," she trailed off for a second as though regretting saying it, "but insightful nonetheless."
"Exactly. But no, no love interest to speak of, well…just a childhood romance really. But she and I are just at opposite ends in our lives, so it doesn't seem to have much of a future of going anywhere," he trailed off, a downcast note to his voice, "actually, none of my relationships seem to be going anywhere."
"You know you don't mean that."
"I don't?" He asked her incredulously.
"You can't honestly tell me that over the past two days our relationship has gone nowhere. Come on—you know I'm not half the hellcat I appear, and I know you're not half the playboy you appear. You know more about me than my own father knows," she paused, fixing her eyes on his, "and I know enough about you to blackmail you for the rest of your natural life." Laughter followed her words, a most welcome sound to Bruce's ears. It was so infectious that he couldn't help but softly laugh as well—whether in relief, happiness or complete disbelief at the absurdity of it of all, he couldn't say. "Confession."
"Yes?"
"I haven't laughed this much in years." He laughed silently as his hand rose to her cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. Her eyes fell longingly on his, silently begging him to do nothing more than just kiss her again. Never had she wanted anything more.
"So where does this leave us?" She quietly asked.
"I don't know…." It couldn't be love, could it? Evelyn didn't know…and yet their kiss from that morning still played sharply in her mind. Her eyes fell away from his as her head sunk under the weight of uncertainty, tainted with maddening, conflicting feelings.
He placed a hand under her chin, gently raising her head back up to his. She met his eyes, and found in something so simple what seemed the promise of a lifetime. Slowly she let her eyes close as she felt his lips gently against hers. Smoothly, lovingly their kiss continued unbroken, deepening as she willingly parted her lips.
How many years had it been since she'd ever felt anything so heartfelt…if ever? She leaned further back against the sofa, pulling him with her, only wanting him closer, unwilling to let go his close contact. His trim frame covered hers nicely, and wherever his hands roamed left behind a tingling trail. Slowly she pulled her lips from his, forcing herself to breathe, feeling her chest move against his.
"I thought there was no reason for us to be together…." He said, a lightness on his voice, as he watched a longing spark ignite in her eyes.
"How could we have been so blind?" She said in mock disbelief.
"Well…the saying does go 'blind as a bat.'" She laughed, throwing her head back against the sofa pillow in disbelief. Again she met with his dreamy smile and hugged him closer, feeling his arms tighten around her in response. He couldn't help but let his lips fall against her soft neck. Despite everything, she had burrowed her way into his heart…and never, willingly, did he want to part with her. Ev turned sharply, flooded with feelings, her lips locking against his in another mind blowing kiss.
Gently he rose off her, pulling her up by her hand firmly in his. They rose from the sofa and quickly wound their way up the stairs. An easy silence surrounded them both—words were useless now. He opened one of two double wooden doors and they quietly disappeared behind them. She glanced and saw a bed bathed in pale moonlight before falling back into his welcoming arms. Every touch, every kiss sent waves of feeling through Ev such as she had never felt before. Clothing was soon forgotten, and she fell back against the bed, pressed gently against him, welcoming him into her mind, heart and body.
story is now officially a romance...yay...i'm such a hopeless romantic at heart. hope it was worth the read and not too mushy. post a review, comment, constructive criticism if you want--they are always much appreciated. next update i'm hoping should be within the next week or two. thanks for stopping by!
p.s.if you're curious, i've a story entitled HMS Spearfish(a drama, not romance, about a submarine in WWII) posted on fictionpress under the same pen name. check it out if'n ya want, post a review (its one the future of is uncertain). and if not, thanks for taking the time to read this!