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Coconut Trees
by Anton M.

Chapter 7: Coconut Trees

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Elizabeth woke up late the next morning, unable to contain her smile but uncertain about how to behave around everyone. Would Darcy want to keep their budding relationship under wraps? Was he one for public displays of affection? Somehow she doubted it, and she tried to talk some sense into herself and convince herself that it wouldn't matter, but it felt so new and exciting that she wasn't sure at all how she got dressed or walked downstairs.

When she appeared at the doorway, everyone was having breakfast, and Jane invited her to sit next to herself but Elizabeth locked eyes with Darcy. He was talking to Bingley but looking at her. A second later, he raised his eyebrows at her and tilted his head on the side, clearly inviting her to him, and when she walked next to him, he took her hand in his while still continuing his conversation with Bingley. It was so casual, the way he rubbed her hand with both of his while listening to Bingley. There was no big announcement, just a quiet expectation of her presence beside him, and she felt cared for.

The table quieted as people took notice of them, and finally, Darcy was the only person having a conversation. Jane gaped. Caroline stared at her coffee mug. Bingley grinned. When Darcy, too, had a pause in his conversation, he looked around the table and took notice of the attention they'd gathered. He stifled a smile at Elizabeth.

"Oh, come here," he said, pulling Elizabeth into his lap. "They'll get over themselves."

She wasn't sure which one of them blushed more violently, but he wrapped his arm around her and she smiled against his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but the silence they'd caused prevented even his whispers from being private.

Later, Elizabeth learned from Jane that Elizabeth was Darcy's first girlfriend they'd met or heard of, and so it was not only alien for them to see him with a girl but to see him with Elizabeth, the girl who, they'd thought, always rubbed him the wrong way.

"Poor Elizabeth," Bingley said as he poured more coffee for himself.

"What, why?"

"Have you seen his schedule? Darce probably has years of pent up –"

"Charles!" Jane interrupted. "There are kids here!"

Bingley had the sense to look sheepish, but the men locked eyes, and this time, Darcy was definitely blushing more than Elizabeth. He hid his grin against Elizabeth's shoulder.

The breakfast continued as it usually did – insomuch as it could, given how much Elizabeth felt like she could float away at any moment with Darcy's arm around her waist and his quiet attentiveness directed at her. It was only when people got used to the strangeness of Darcy holding Elizabeth and started discussing what to do with their Saturday that they could talk without having all of the attention on them.

Elizabeth pressed her lips against his, and his dazed, affectionate look was enough to give her butterflies.

"How'd you sleep?" he asked against her ear.

"I've had better," she replied, smiling. "You? How are you up so early?"

"Night shifts mess with my sleeping," he replied, drawing patterns on her waist as they observed each other. It was infinitely strange for both of them to realise that this might've been the first time they shared personal information with each other beyond world issues. For better or for worse, they actually knew quite little of each other.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Elizabeth replied, taking in the shadows under his eyes. He leaned his head against her hand when she cupped his neck.

"Where's your phone?"

Darcy shifted Elizabeth before taking his phone from his pocket, and after he unlocked it at her request, she saved her number in it and called herself. She smiled sheepishly but didn't explain herself, and he kissed her as he put his phone back in his pocket.

It was serious business, dating a surgical resident at the Royal London Hospital. Elizabeth knew it, of course, she knew it wasn't up to him which weekends or nights he would be off work, but it was another thing entirely to realise how much he'd already had to sacrifice, time-wise, to even visit Bingley. It took them a week of phone conversations to find a time for meeting up, and when that plan fell through, Darcy invited her over to his studio apartment at Whitechapel.

When she'd buzzed to get in and he met her at his apartment door, he was wearing jeans but no shirt, towel-drying his hair.

"I'm sorry – I'm late. I just arrived. I'll be with you in a moment. Make yourself at home."

He gave her a quick kiss, and the newness of his lips on hers made her feel afloat.

Elizabeth, who certainly had no experience with half-naked men, stared at him before he disappeared around a corner. In a daze, she slid off her shoes (leaving her barefoot) and put her backpack on the hallway floor. The place was small but expensive-looking, and she felt wildly out-of-place. She could only dream of having a place of her own one day.

"Is this far from your school?" he asked, still around the corner.

"40 minutes by tube," she answered, taking in his home, clean and warm and… high-class. "Same as going home."

"And home is?"

"Forest Gate."

Darcy appeared, hair still damp, and finished buttoning his shirt. Elizabeth shifted, hoping that Jane's yellow dress didn't look too outlandish on her. Her simple dress, loose hair, minimum make-up, none of it fit with the posh vibe she was getting from his apartment, but she held her head high.

She was wholly aware of Darcy's physical presence beside her, and wondered how it took her so long to realise how attractive she found him. Darcy took a step closer, slid his hand in hers and held it in both of his. His attention gave her goosebumps.

"And how are you this week?"

She couldn't help her grin.

"I'm really good," she replied. "And you? How was your week?"

"Busy," he said, stifling a smile. "But, happy."

"Yeah?"

Darcy intertwined his fingers with hers, pushed back her hair and kissed her. His lips were warm. When she slid her fingers in his hair, he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against him. She was sure she was floating.

Darcy smiled, touching her forehead with his.

"How hungry are you?"

Her stomach growled in response, and she laughed against his chest.

"I see," he replied. "Can you handle cooking together or should we get take-out?"

"How do you have enough groceries to cook?"

"I didn't. I had to ask my mum to restock my fridge."

"That's kind of sweet." She laughed and squeezed his side. "I can't judge. I still live with my parents."

He didn't react to her words and seemed to be just as reluctant to stop touching her as she was to stop touching him. When her eyes glanced around the small apartment, Darcy pulled her to him and took her around the corner. His studio was covered in dark green and black and a tiny bit of gold, he had a stylish-looking couch and a big bed in front of a wall entirely covered by a rendition of a familiar photograph. It showed coconut palms in the rain, as if viewed from a window covered in raindrops.

"Anne took this," Elizabeth said, in wonder. "Does she sell these or how do you have it?"

Darcy leaned against the wall with hands in his pockets, stifling his smile.

"I don't think she sells them, no."

"But how to you have it?"

"Elizabeth." He smiled. "Anne is my mum."

And that was the day she made the connection between Anne and Darcy.

"No!" She stared at him. "But she's so – normal."

"I'm not quite sure if you're insulting me or paying my mum a compliment."

"Neither," she corrected. "It's just – she doesn't feel..."

"As posh as you think I am?" he finished for her, but he did not seem offended as he used her words. "She's not – she married into this life, and the woman she is, now that she's divorced, is pretty different from the one I grew up with."

"I like her," Elizabeth said, simply, and Darcy smiled.

Elizabeth was assessing Darcy's features and comparing them to Anne's, and when Darcy showed her a photograph of himself, his mother and his sister, Elizabeth had to concede. She sat on her knees on the bed, looking at the palm trees in the rain when the invisible fairy lights hidden in the scene lit up. Elizabeth stared at Darcy in wonder.

He lifted his phone. "Smart lights."

The wall created a cozy corner with an impossibly inviting mood, and she loved it. Some of the coconut palm leaves covered the ceiling, and the tiny fairy lights on the ceiling made his whole place feel homey and cozy, like she could snuggle up against the bed with a cup of coffee and revel in its loveliness.

He held out his hand to her, and she landed in his arms when he pulled her to him. He kissed her hair, slid his knuckles over her cheek and pressed a kiss on her lips. "Food?"

"Please."

She took one last look at the cozy corner, but she needn't have worried because his mirror-covered wall reflected most of it, and she leaned against the kitchen counter as she admired the view.

He put on some background music. "Any allergies?"

"None that I know of, although –" She smiled at the chicken he'd taken out. "Is this the right time to mention I'm vegetarian?"

He returned the chicken to the fridge. "No matter, I think I have some feta cheese. Is it a health choice? Animal rights? Sustainability?"

"The last option. Because –"

"Actually, don't tell me. You're too persuasive. I'll be vegetarian by the end of the meal, and then my lunch for three days will go to waste."

Elizabeth laughed.

"Okay, tell me what to do," she said.

They worked together on their dinner, bantering along the way, and it surprised Elizabeth how well they got along when they didn't spend hours debating the pros and cons of their chosen issue of the day. She watched him grate parmesan as they waited for pasta to boil, and she was struck by how he had his whole life figured out – a lovely home, a normal family, goals and ambitions and finances. He was attractive and smart, and for some inexplicable reason, he was attracted to her.

Suddenly, she knew she couldn't keep his interest for long.

Sooner or later, he'd see that she was a scam artist. She had never lived away from home – she couldn't afford to. She studied Art and Creative Design because it was the only program she was accepted to. She could live at home as long as she was studying, and she was barely holding on. She paid a bit of rent to her parents, as it was only fair, but she needed a full-time job to move out, and she needed a better degree to get one that would pay well enough not to have to live with four other roommates. Whichever path she chose of all her bad choices, none of them would help her land a man like Darcy, intelligent and kind and insanely attractive. At least not long term.

One of their arguments, weeks ago, had been about the importance of getting a degree, and Darcy couldn't have known that her side of the debate came from a deeply personal place. She wanted to feel validated in her possible choice of dropping out, and yet Darcy had insisted that he could never be with a woman who did not have or pursue a degree. Was she lying to him by omitting this information?

It was a gut-wrenching thought to have so early in their budding relationship, to know that he'd leave one way or another. She had nothing to offer him other than her personality. She had no money, no connections to get a job, no career, and no path to a degree that would help her in any way. She was well on her way to working at a gas station for life.

She knew that people were always more likely to settle down with someone their equal, equal socio-economic status and education level. Elizabeth couldn't be that match to Darcy, and it broke her a little bit. It was unfair to have this beautiful relationship dangled in front of her and have it be so unreachable to her.

"Are you okay?"

Elizabeth felt deflated. How could she throw herself into a relationship with this lovely man, knowing that she would not, in the end, ever be enough? She'd never been enough for her parents and she'd never been enough for her teachers. How soon would he realise that she was not actually all that smart? And if he did realise it but started a habit of making little comments on the side, could she handle that?

Was she okay just living in the moment, in this moment, with him? Was she okay knowing what it felt like to feel this precious with someone and yet know she could only have him for herself for a little bit?

"How are you single?"

Darcy threw the leftover rind into the trash before he washed his hands, and she was beginning to enjoy how he always stifled his smile.

"Am I?"

"You know what I mean."

He sat on a barstool, pulled Elizabeth to stand between his knees, took both of her hands in his, and rested them on his thighs. She squeezed his thighs, blushing. His casualness made her feel aflutter with affection.

"What do you think?"

She couldn't really think with his breath on her face, so close and not close enough, but she tried her best.

"Is it your schedule? Are you picky? Do you insult every woman coming your way?"

Darcy laughed.

"One could hope it's the first option but who knows. Would I have been single if I knew?"

"Fair point."

Their knees brushed together as they ate and watched the sun go down. Elizabeth offered to do the dishes but Darcy declined. In the dim light, he took her hand, led her around the corner, and sat on the bed in front of her.

"What would you like to do?"

She wanted to sit under the loveliest fairy lights and drink tea, and that's exactly what she told him. When he returned with two mugs, she took one. He brightened the lights somewhat, and she couldn't help but wish to have a place just like this, one day, to herself.

"I wouldn't blame you if you brought women here to this corner to seduce them," she said. "It's beautiful."

He stifled a smile, and she was sure she'd never seen anything quite as adorable as his expression.

"I'll let you know how it goes with the first one I've brought here."

No other words could've made her feel more precious, and she blew air on her tea.

"Are you okay?" Darcy repeated. "I can't pretend that I know you well enough to judge, but you've been quiet since dinner. I'm afraid I'm not used to it."

She was starting to accept that she would just be a chapter in his life, and it hurt her more than it should have, but she was not foolish enough to break it off with him just because she thought it would be likely to happen anyway. Even if it would be a matter of when and how, not if, she was determined to enjoy the time with him that she had.

Elizabeth sat on her knees beside him, taking his free hand in hers. She loved touching him, and he seemed to feel the same.

"How did you know you wanted to become a surgeon?"

"I didn't for a long time. It was more of a process of elimination before I realised what I wanted."

"Did you ever doubt yourself?"

He smiled. "Many times."

"Do you like what you do?"

"Most days," he said. "Although… I think I would prefer to go private when I have a family. It's a more manageable schedule."

Elizabeth squeezed his hand.

"What about you? What are you thinking of, for your future?"

"I'd like to try my hand at photography."

"Mum mentioned that you have a knack for portraits."

She did not express how out-of-reach this dream of hers was, or how every person she spoke to considered themselves a photographer. Instead, she shared her hopes and dreams as if they were not only possible but likely, and Darcy listened. He seemed to be under the impression that, like his comment on the day they met, her essay was a one-off, a result of a bad day. She did not correct him.

When Elizabeth had put their mugs on the bedside table, Darcy pulled her against him but rolled her on her back, and she smiled up at him as he wiped hair from her face.

"Has anyone told you you have the most beautiful eyes?"

He was the first man she'd met who hadn't considered Jane to be the beauty of her family, and his comment touched her.

"Thank you."

He lowered himself against her, solid and warm, and his nose brushed against hers when he spoke. "Is this okay?"

Elizabeth, overwhelmed by his scent and presence, smiled and put her hand on his back, pulling him closer. "Very."

It was impossible to keep herself away, and Darcy seemed to feel the same. She unbuttoned his shirt while he pressed little kisses against her neck and collarbone, and she was overwhelmed by his scent, sandalwood or cedarwood or a combination she couldn't describe. He removed his shirt. He was fit and warm, and there was something intoxicating about having his naked chest against her body and his weight on her. She smiled against his lips when he lifted her closer to the pillows, and his strength awed her. He pressed himself closer when she ran her fingers over his back, and she loved the taste of his lips.

"Would you feel it terribly forward if I asked if I could stay over?"

Darcy's face softened, and his voice was low. "I would love that. We don't even have to do anything, I just want to feel you close to me."

She might've melted from his words.

"Do you have to let anyone know?"

"No, I actually…" She blushed and cleared her throat. "I told them not to expect me home. It's easier to explain going home when they don't expect it than not going home when they do."

"Can't argue with that logic," he replied. "Do they know where you are?"

"Jane knows."

"Good." He rested his elbows on either side of her head and licked his lips as he observed her face, and his gaze filled her with affection. Elizabeth, still amazed by her attraction to him, cupped his cheek.

"Darcy?"

"Yes, Elizabeth?"

She smiled and took a breath. "I'm not putting a stop to this, but it's fair that you know I've never…" she trailed off, willing herself to get the words out. "I've never… gone the whole way."

Darcy's eyes held disbelief, relief, and affection, and he squeezed her in his arms before he pressed his lips against hers.

"Me, neither."

Elizabeth let out a sharp, unladylike huff. "You don't have to lie to me to get me in bed. I'm already here."

He reached over to put on the bedside lamp, and she could see his blush cover his face and chest.

"I'm far from lying," he replied, smiling through his embarrassment.

"But you've had girlfriends."

"And one can't have had girlfriends in high school without having had sex with them?"

"But you're so –"

"So what?"

"Old."

"30 is not that old."

"It's ancient. You're like an old oak tree."

Darcy laughed.

"Also, you're handsome and confident. I just find it so hard to believe you've never…"

Darcy took off his weight from her and rested on his elbow by her side. He trailed his fingers over her stomach in circles, hesitating.

"Up until I was 23, I barely had time to breathe. Medical school was so intense. Of course there were those who sowed their wild oats at parties, but I think you've seen – I'm not the type. Then, just as I started my foundation programme, my dad cheated on my mum and she was… she was so broken, I could only focus on my training and trying to convince her to get therapy. Their divorce proceedings took three years, three years of… abject misery. Meanwhile, I started Core Surgical Training, and it was like being in med school all over again… in the end, you have to sit the MRCS, and that was barely done when they discovered that not only did my mum have melanoma but it had travelled to her lymph nodes, stage three, and she lived here through the whole treatment."

Elizabeth took his hand and intertwined their fingers. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I only meant to tease you."

"I know," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Is she okay now?"

"She's been cancer-free two and a half years, now."

"Thank God," Elizabeth whispered. "I'm so sorry for teasing you."

"I like it when you tease me," he replied, stifling a smile. "Don't worry about it. I didn't tell you to make you feel bad but to make you… understand. You should know these things."

"I should," she said. "Where was your sister through all this?"

"She's been living in Toronto for three years, now. She'd just moved there for her degree when this all happened, and she took a semester off to be here."

Elizabeth observed his earnest, tender eyes, rethinking his character and her own fears. He was a family man, through and through, and here she had thought that she would be his twelfth girlfriend and perhaps a notch on his bedpost when, in reality, he was extremely selective about whom he shared himself with, and it made her feel wildly cherished.

She'd thought that her education (or lack thereof) and her shaky future would drive them apart, but his words made her feel like she could fight for their future together. Maybe, over time, if they fit together as well as she thought they might, she could convince him that it didn't and wouldn't matter.

The knowledge that they could be each other's firsts, should they choose to, made her feel tingly and cherished and aflutter with affection.

"What about you?" Darcy asked, smiling like he had a secret and her name was Elizabeth.

"What about me?"

Darcy leaned closer, lifting his leg over her hips, and grazed her face with his nose.

"How did you never… go the whole way?" He smiled against her cheek. "You're smart and beautiful. It's a little hard to believe."

She relished his compliment, thrown so casually, as if she didn't have to hide half of her life to make sure he would continue to believe it.

"I have things to tell you about the economy of the twenty first century if you are surprised that a student who lives at home is a virgin."

Darcy laughed, but soon he hovered over her body again. He caressed her face with both hands and ran his fingers through her hair before resting his forehead against hers. "Do you mind that I have no experience?"

"I didn't expect it, obviously, but I find it…" She paused, gripping his hair and pulling him down to a kiss. "Quite precious."

"Me, too," he said, his warm breath blowing over her face. "It would've been fine either way, but there is something –" He reddened. "Possessive, I think, sharing this with you and knowing I'm the only man you've been with."

"I get it."

She bit her lip as she smiled. He wrapped her up in his arms and pressed his lips against hers, biting, tugging, smiling. She unzipped his jeans and tugged them off before he pulled her dress over her head. His eyes were soft, filled with a kind of tender, raw affection, and she felt like she might melt under his gaze. There was so much to feel and learn and discover, and although they got naked, they spent the evening fumbling and laughing as they learned what they liked and didn't like. There was no rush, and their eagerness made up for the experience they lacked.

Before midnight, they brushed their teeth and had a shower together. Darcy pulled her in his arms as they lay naked under the blanket next to each other. He had his head on top of a pillow while she rested lower, close to his chest. She felt his heartbeat against her skin. Darcy ran his fingers along her skin, slowly, lazily, before he dimmed the fairy lights to their lowest setting into a barely visible glimmer of stars.

Elizabeth had never felt so precious in her life, and she kissed his chest, humming against his skin. He smiled, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss on top of her hair.

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