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Coconut Trees
by Anton M.
Chapter 6: Nights
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Visiting Jane at her boyfriend's townhouse in West Brompton was certainly an experience for Elizabeth, not only for the posh neighbourhood with houses more expensive than what she would probably make in her entire lifetime, but for the fact that Bingley had cleaners and a cook and enough rooms to have his entire family as well as Jane's over, with room to spare, should he want to invite everyone. That's why, when Elizabeth stepped into the kitchen at eight AM on the Good Friday after Darcy had so generously shared his opinion of her intellect, she was struck by a new image.
Darcy, wearing a pink frilly apron on top of his white T-shirt and jeans, sat on the floor next to the Hurst kids, Sophie and Chloe, as Chloe listened to his lungs with the fake stethoscope of the Doctor Kit that was open on the floor.
"So what's my diagnosis?" Darcy asked.
"You have..."
"Complicateditis!" Sophie finished.
"Complicated...itis?"
"Yes! It's a real thing!"
Darcy smiled. "And what are my symptoms?"
"You… uh, you turn green every time you open the fridge door!"
He laughed. "That sounds dangerous. So who will open the fridge door for when I need more eggs for french toast or milk for my coffee?"
Chloe stood up. "I will!"
Sophie took the stethoscope and started listening to Darcy's back. "How many kids do you want, Darcy?"
Darcy, unfazed by the sudden change in topic, smiled and shut his eyes. "Three, I think."
"And where do you want to live?"
Darcy chuckled but continued replying. "After having kids? The suburbs, probably. I don't know. Depends on where my wife would want to live."
His response looked entirely sincere and endearing to Elizabeth, and she was just about to back away from the scene when Darcy opened his eyes and looked straight at her.
"Ladies, will you excuse me for a moment?"
He started getting up, but Elizabeth shook her head and rushed out of the front door, heading for a walk. Yesterday, she'd convinced herself that Darcy was an asshole with no redeeming qualities, and therefore his comment shouldn't have meant a thing to her. Yesterday, she was enraged. But today, walking in on that adorable scene, she mostly felt sad. Clearly, there was something about Elizabeth in particular that rubbed Darcy the wrong way, and it's not like he was the first person to question her intelligence, nor would he, probably, be the last.
It was bitter irony that his little answers to Sophie's questions matched hers.
When Elizabeth returned, Darcy had finished cooking breakfast for the entire household and Jane ushered Elizabeth to sit next to her.
"Darcy's french toast is the best. You will die of food coma and not be sorry for it."
Elizabeth hated it when Jane was right, but of course she was.
Elizabeth was thankful that Caroline had set her sights on Darcy. It was, perhaps, the most amusing thing about the extended weekend – as much as Elizabeth avoided Darcy, Caroline clung to his presence that much more, and Caroline even cornered Elizabeth in the living room to figure out if Elizabeth should be considered competition.
"So what do you think of him?"
"Darcy?"
When Caroline nodded, Elizabeth shrugged. "Ehh."
"You're kidding me, right?"
She shrugged.
Her response was not entirely correct, but Elizabeth had no reason to make Caroline feel insecure in pursuing Darcy, and she excused herself (to the complaints of many) from the movie they were about to watch together, to go study. Unfortunately, she'd only opened her laptop and textbooks on her bed when someone knocked on her door.
"Jane, please just let me –"
Darcy stood on the doorway, hands in his pockets, and Elizabeth couldn't shut her laptop and textbooks quickly enough. She felt ashamed to be caught studying when she had nothing to show for it. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but that's how she felt, and it was a reaction she'd learned at home after too many cutting remarks. She often studied in secret.
"I know you've been avoiding me."
"Really. Was it your superior intellect that helped you figure that out?"
Darcy rubbed his neck.
"I deserve that," he replied. "Listen, I… I'm sorry your feelings were hurt. The comment was beneath me."
Elizabeth drew her legs under her to sit on her knees and narrowed her eyes. Did he have a split personality? How was this the same guy who played with kids on the kitchen floor before making breakfast for the entire household?
"That's the worst apology I've ever heard."
"What? Why?"
"First, you're not taking ownership of what you said, you're blaming me for my feelings. Second, the comment was beneath you? Bugger off with that apology. You're more worried about how you're perceived for the comment than you seem to regret making it."
Darcy blinked, staring at Elizabeth, shut the door, and leaned against it with hands in his pockets. He shut his eyes and let out a long breath.
"I lost my first patient yesterday," he said. "A three-year-old boy. It was not the first patient I've lost overall, of course, but the first one I lost during surgery. I did not take it well, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."
Elizabeth sat in silence, unsure of how to respond to such raw emotion.
"Thank you," she said, almost formally. "I accept your apology. I'm… I'm sorry you had to go through that. Some days are… unfair. I can't imagine what that must've been like."
Darcy nodded, still not opening his eyes, and Elizabeth was not sure how to proceed, so she waited. Eventually, Darcy took a breath and opened his eyes, but he did not move.
"My father called me after I left work," he continued. "We haven't talked much after he cheated on my mum, and the kind of woman he chose was exactly the kind who would… do such a thing. In fact, she did. It was fresh on my mind, and I guess… that didn't help. Do you ever have days so bad that everything and everyone makes you want to rage against the world?"
She fiddled with the hole in her jeans, understanding exactly how he felt but not knowing if he expected her to say anything.
"Also, I, uh," he stuttered, reddening. "I do not have a lot of experience with how to behave around beautiful women."
Elizabeth's laughter was light and genuine.
"Now you're really laying it thick," she said. "I can't say that implying that I offered sexual favours to get into college was the highlight of my week, but your apology is enough, really. I'm sorry to hear that you had such a bad day."
"I'm sorry I took it out on you."
It was a truce if they could ever hope to reach one.
Saturday evening brought a bigger dinner party, one with an intimidating amount of guests, and Elizabeth sat next to a blonde woman with short hair, glasses, and a kind smile.
"Don't! Don't take that cake."
"Why?"
Elizabeth leaned closer. "It tastes like soap, and Mrs. Hurst will not leave you alone if she sees you eating it and not say a word. For your own sanity, you are advised to avoid it."
"I see." The woman smiled. "And what do you recommend?"
Elizabeth summarised all her favourite dishes to the woman, and she listened attentively before they both served themselves.
"Oh, that one is good," Elizabeth gushed over the woman's choice of a chocolate pastry. "Sometimes when I stay here for the whole weekend, I sneak some to school in my bag."
She blushed when the woman blinked at her, but instead of backtracking, Elizabeth grinned. "I am an unashamed student, you must know. No event is worth visiting unless free food is served. It is the sole criteria an event must pass to be worthy of attending."
The woman smiled.
"Anne." She offered her hand.
"Elizabeth," she replied.
"And how do you know these posh people?"
Elizabeth was beyond relieved that someone not directly related to her could understand how she felt about the people around them.
"Jane is my sister. And you?"
"My son is friends with Bingley. Fitzwilliam, maybe you've met him?"
"Can't say that I have."
Anne's eyes widened when she tried Elizabeth's favourite cheesecake, and she squeezed Elizabeth's shoulder. "Divine," she said. "I see I found the best dinner companion today."
The woman was impossible not to like, and she had a free, unassuming air about her, almost the direct opposite of Caroline. She enjoyed photography just as much as Elizabeth and they shared their camera specs and showed each other portfolios on their phones. Elizabeth enjoyed photographing people while Anne was a fan of scenery, but by the end of the night, Elizabeth felt like she'd found a dear friend.
When they switched to other topics and Elizabeth started her passionate rant over net neutrality, Anne looked at her, wide-eyed.
"What?" Elizabeth asked.
"You must meet my son," she said. "He keeps finding these stuffy boring women, probably the only man on Earth intent on ruining his own love life. He is desperate to be challenged, and I have a feeling you are neither stuffy nor boring."
Elizabeth shifted in her spot, staring at her wine glass. "Can I take a rain check? The last guy I met said I was so stupid I must've slept with the dean to be accepted into college, so… my ego is still recovering."
"No," Anne gasped. "Who does that?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Beats me."
"But of course," Anne said, kindly. "Some other day, perhaps."
Elizabeth did not enjoy the occasional proof of Darcy's upper-class posh attitude, but she, somehow, did not hate his guts, and it was the highlight of her week to watch him squirm when trying to politely dodge Caroline's attentions. They were all often invited to Bingley's house for the weekend, and equally as often, they had dinner parties that ended with the verbal sparring of Elizabeth and Darcy. They argued over and discussed everything under the sun – electric cars, universal basic income, death penalty, vaping, if sex work should be legal. There was no topic that didn't end in a passionate discussion for both sides, not because they always disagreed but because they were both interested in having those discussions.
Anne and Darcy did not spend those giant dinners around each other, so it took Elizabeth more than a month of knowing both of them separately to realise that Anne's son, Fitzwilliam, was, in fact, Darcy. In Elizabeth's defence, only his mother called him by his first name, and Anne never stayed over. She hadn't had a chance to observe them together.
Caroline liked making little comments about Elizabeth's supposed intelligence, and Elizabeth did not enjoy watching Darcy's quiet agreement, but he stopped listening to Caroline after his first debate with Elizabeth over decriminalising drugs, which he promptly lost. Thereafter, Darcy's attitude towards Elizabeth became more curious, even kind, and it was a wonder for Elizabeth to witness his thawing attitude towards her.
The funniest part for Elizabeth, however, was watching Caroline, when dinner was ending, attempt to agree with every single point Darcy made. He was much too polite in company to tell her off, but Elizabeth read Darcy's body language enough to know that Caroline's presence annoyed him, and they both sighed in relief when she got too tired to continue.
One time, Darcy and Elizabeth couldn't stop talking until it was six AM on Sunday and Darcy had to go to work, and they both stared at his phone alarm going off in amazement.
"I'm so sorry," Elizabeth said. "I didn't realise..."
"Me, neither." Darcy stood up and started to clear the table, but Elizabeth put her hand on his forearm, stopping him.
"Let me. You go shower. I'm sorry for keeping you up."
His smile was shy. "I kept you up just as much."
"Yeah, but I'm not the one doing surgery in a few hours."
"Me neither, to be fair. It's admin stuff, today. Just a two-hour meeting to sit through. I'll be back soon."
"They have admin stuff on Sunday morning?"
Darcy raised his hands in a distinctly 'I'm innocent in this' way. "Don't even get me started on how this decision was made." He turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway. "Thank you for staying up with me. I don't think I've ever enjoyed discussing world issues as much as I enjoy doing it with you."
"Me, neither."
"To be continued?" he asked.
The intensity in his eyes made her feel shy, and she tucked her hair behind her ear. Each night she spent in his company was further proof that her initial impression of him was not, perhaps, as accurate as her self-righteousness and rage against her own failures had stamped it. She couldn't crucify him for a single mean comment no more than she wanted him to judge her intellect based on a single essay.
"To be continued."
He gave her a grin before disappearing upstairs, and Elizabeth felt a little bit like walking on air as she cleared the table for breakfast.
On a Friday night almost three weeks later, they found themselves around Bingley's dinner table, cleared of dirty dishes but full of sweets, arguing over sustainable energy.
"Well, if you have to go sustainable, you have to consider solar panels."
"No! Too many downsides, including the storage of the energy for later. And, solar is not as sustainable as people think. I hate it when people are terrified of nuclear power but so eager for solar power."
"How is solar power not sustainable?"
"Do you even know how many toxic materials are needed to create them? Even the byproduct of its own production, silicon tetrachloride, is deadly to all plants and animals, not to mention the contents of the panels themselves – lead, telluride, and all kinds of selenides and diselenides. Do you really think the world that can't even handle its current waste is ready to recycle millions of metric tons of solar panels full of toxic waste? No, solar is not the answer."
Darcy stared at Elizabeth. His changing impression of her was giving him whiplash, and it was not easy for him to admit that she often knew more about the topics that interested him than he did. She poured out information from her brain like his computer's operating system poured out updates, and he did not think anything could make her more attractive than how passionate she got when they argued over world issues at two AM.
Sometimes, he unlocked his phone to google her facts only to find her correct, and it was equally a turn-on to be challenged so fiercely as well as a hit to his ego (but a hit he took gladly, for he dearly enjoyed seeing her smile).
Even more, Elizabeth's arguing had none of the pompous know-it-all undertones to it that he saw in people from his own social circles, and he loved observing her sparkling eyes and teasing smile when she disagreed with him.
He leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms, smiling.
"What, pray tell, is the ultimate answer, then?"
"Nuclear, obviously."
"Obviously," he repeated, a bit sarcastic in his answer to play the devil's advocate. "If you consider waste to be the main drawback of solar power, how do you not apply the same rules to nuclear?"
"Well, it's the capacity factor that makes all the difference, of course," she replied. "Not to mention, the world is not what it was when Chernobyl or even Fukushima happened. Technology is far, far safer nowadays, and to design and create new nuclear reactors is, quite possibly, far safer and would kill far fewer people than what coal is currently doing, while also being a low-carbon power source."
"I agree with you."
"In addition –" Elizabeth paused, realising what Darcy had said. "You what?"
"I agree with you."
"You can't agree with me."
He smiled. "Why not?"
"You never agree with me."
"I guess there's a first time for everything."
He took in her soft smile, full of disbelief, the hair she'd wrapped into a messy up-do, and the eyes he couldn't stop thinking about. Elizabeth was playing with a candy wrapper, folding and unfolding it, when she became aware of his attention.
"It's not, actually."
Darcy leaned forward and wrapped his sleeves closer to his elbows, but he missed how her eyes lingered on his forearms.
"What's not what?"
"It's not the first time we agree on something," she said, but immediately regretted her words. They were nothing to each other, probably not even friends, and to mention something as heavy as the number of kids she'd wish to have one day would put more meaning into their discussion than necessary.
He was struggling to remember where they had fully, easily agreed with each other from the get-go, and could not recall anything.
"Refresh my memory," he said.
"Never mind." Elizabeth blushed, avoiding his eyes. "It's a small thing."
"Elizabeth."
"What?"
"Tell me."
She released her hair and tied it again, pointedly not looking at him. "I think I'd also like to have three kids one day."
Darcy leaned back. "How did you –?"
"That morning you were playing with Sophie and Chloe."
"Ah."
"Not now, obviously. I'm way too young and single, but one day."
She gave him a pursed-lips smile, feeling a little embarrassed to reveal such personal information irrelevant to him.
Darcy observed her, quietly, looking intense and affectionate in a way that confused Elizabeth. The air felt charged. She was about to change the topic when, suddenly, she was pressed against the wall, his body against hers, surrounded by his hands and his scent. He cupped her neck, tilting her chin up, and their eyes locked. His solid chest against hers gave her butterflies.
She wasn't sure which one of them closed the gap between them, but their lips met, soft and teasing, warm and exhilarating. He wrapped her up in his arms, tightly, and she was not prepared for the effect of his warmth or taste when he opened his mouth, or how much she didn't wish to stop kissing him. They stumbled over to a chair and she straddled his lap, gasping and biting and pressing their lips together. She hummed against his lips when he slid his warm hands under her shirt to her waist. He groaned.
"I can't stop thinking about you," he whispered, squeezing her to him. "I never visit Bingley this much, but now knowing that you might be here is all the invitation I need."
Elizabeth felt like she was floating when he unzipped her hoodie and hid his face in her neck, breathing against her skin and peppering warm kisses under her hair. She unbuttoned the topmost button of his shirt and kissed his neck.
"You mean to tell me that Caroline is not the apple of your eye?" Elizabeth teased, and Darcy let out a grumble before his lips attached to hers again. She tugged at his hair, and he pressed her tighter against him. It felt surreal. She enjoyed their nightly discussions and sometimes his gaze made her self-conscious, but she had no clue that he was interested in her. His soft lips on hers and his hands holding her tenderly, securely – she hadn't realised how attractive she'd found him.
The floor creaked at the doorway, and only his firm grip on her hips prevented Elizabeth from jumping off of Darcy's lap.
Bingley stood in the doorway in his pyjamas, holding a glass of water.
"I just wanted to shut off the lights nobody was using," he said with a grin wider than either of them had ever seen. "But I guess this room is being used."
Elizabeth hid her blush in Darcy's neck, and he squeezed her in a tight hug, smiling against her ear. They sat, holding each other, until Elizabeth pulled back. She observed his brown eyes, his sharp eyebrows, the shaving cut he'd given himself and his jawline. She really didn't know how she'd missed how attractive she found him.
Darcy gave her a soft smile, squeezing her sides.
"So what's your verdict?"
"You're pretty."
He rested his forehead against hers as he laughed. He ran his fingers over her hair, searching her eyes, and kissed her, softly, with no urgency.
"I never do this," he said, almost shyly.
"Make out with girls you don't like? Me, neither."
"That, too." He smiled. "Except, of course, I like you."
"You can't like me."
"Why not?"
"You can't even stand me!"
"What is this, then?" He leaned closer so that their noses were touching and his warm breath mixed with hers. She almost melted from the affection in his eyes.
"You just want to have sex with me."
Darcy blushed, and it covered his entire neck and probably lower, but he didn't tear his eyes from hers. "To confirm that would be to confirm what an asshole I am, but to deny it would be… a lie, so I'll just not say anything further."
Elizabeth laughed, but Darcy cupped her cheek and kept looking at her with the same intense, longing eyes, and she squirmed under his gaze. "Elizabeth," he whispered. "When I say I never do this, I mean… I don't do casual. I don't do relationships that I don't see headed somewhere."
"Is this your way of saying you're my boyfriend now?"
His blush did not lessen as he looked at her lips and stifled a smile. "If you want me to be. It's up to you."
Elizabeth ran her fingers through his hair and tugged them at the nape of his neck, pressing her lips against his. His lips moved against hers, gently, before they both smiled.
"Okay."
"Really?"
"Really." She smiled. "I mean, to see Caroline's face in the morning alone will be worth the trouble of having a boyfriend who only wants to argue with me."
Darcy laughed. "Oh, bugger. Caroline. Although… I guess it will be an unexpected perk of dating you, getting her off my back."
"Perk for you, maybe. She might knife me in my sleep for stealing you."
"I'll protect you."
Darcy started running his hands up and down her sides, and Elizabeth caressed his face. How had she missed this tender, raw gaze he gave her? It was unnerving and exhilarating and did funny things to her stomach.
They kissed each other until she felt high from the lack of oxygen, they shut off the lights, and when he casually slid his hand in hers as they walked upstairs, she felt like she was dreaming. She expected him to join her in her room, but he paused by her doorway, lingering.
He pressed a single kiss against the corner of her lips, squeezed her hand, and whispered, "Sweet dreams, Elizabeth," before he walked across the hall and shut the door to his room.
Elizabeth felt a little bit weightless, smiling against her pillow as she fell asleep.
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