Chapter 3: Retiring For The Evening
Author's note: I said I wasn't sure when the next chapter would be up, but this story is just roaming through my mind and I can't think of any other story; just this one. That's what you get for having an overly active imagination! Not that I'm complaining…
So I know I said that the fluffiness would happen in this chapter, but I kinda want to prolong this story. I promise it won't be boring or something, and some fun *wink wink* stuff will happen along the way. It will just happen in paces. Hope you all enjoy!
edboy4926: Thank you! :)
HopelessRomantic1818: Haha, well thanks a million. I'll get to the fluffiness soon, I promise!
Lone Reaper-068: Thanks! I'm glad to hear you like it. :)
Steve Urkel: First off, when I read the signature for the comment, my first thought was, 'Did I do that?' and it was a terrible impersonation. I digress. When I read your review, I wanted to run the streets of my city and make every person read it (preferably aloud). And at every one of your puns, I wished I had a drum set to do the 'budum psh' sound. Thank you so much for your amazing comment! It really motivates me to keep writing, and hopefully one day I can come up with one good storyline for Infinite and write for it.
Guest: Thank you so much! I plan on finishing this, and hopefully it'll be good! :)
xxRequiemxx: That 1999 mode gave me plenty headaches, but admittedly, was quite fun. :) Well, I'm glad that you're continuing to read it. When people rage, it makes it that much more fun to ship this couple. :P
bren97122: It was really sad, but I felt that it was necessary. I really liked the Bioshock story you wrote for Booker and Elizabeth. Very well written and quite funny. :) When you do get around to writing another, I'll be sure to read it! Oh, and I really like that you write Silent Hill fics, too. Not enough SH stories on here, personally.
-Sarai
They're afraid of you.
Booker was not a man to scare easy, but the girl in his arms made him feel a fear that he had never knew could even exist. He didn't fear her, but rather what she made him feel. She made him feel like if he were to let her go, he would break into a million different pieces and the only way he could be put back together was if she gathered him up and recreated him. She made him feel that it was okay to acknowledge and accept the feelings that were never expressed to him throughout all his life. She made him feel even if it was a miniscule fraction of his lifetime that peace could be found. She made him feel loved.
He thought when he had lost her, he could never go on. But somehow, he did. He did, because deep down he knew that she was still somewhere out there, still alive. And now he knew if he lost her a second time, he wouldn't be able to go on. He couldn't lose her ever again.
"Booker," Elizabeth whispered into his chest as she rubbed his back to signal that she wanted to look up at him. He loosened his grip, but only slightly. He'd be damned if he let her slip away. "Booker, I thought I'd never find you. But then I made it to Paris and on a whim, I came here. No one knew who you were but then I found the ribbon—my ribbon. And I knew you were near. Oh Booker, I've miss you so much."
Booker couldn't say a word. He could feel his nose burn and if he said one word—one syllable, tears would fall. And he couldn't reveal the weakness he felt at that point. Not now. In one swift movement, he scooped his hands under her arms and picked her up. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to him tightly, hiding his face in the nook of her neck.
Elizabeth pet his hair and massaged the nape of his neck, "I'm here," she murmured into his ear. She shushed him softly and hummed a simple melody to him, hoping it'd calm him down a little. She was speaking the truth when she said she came here on a whim. She didn't really expect to find him so soon, let alone in Paris. She had gone through so many tears and so many dimensions, that she was sure she'd never find him. And after what felt like years, maybe even decades, she went through the right tear and miraculously, she found him. She spoke these words aloud and he stayed silent, hiding his face in her neck.
"Booker, say something. What are you feeling?" she requested softly. He shook his head in her neck, and huffed heavily. She tried to get him to look at her, but he refused. He wouldn't move his face, at least not for a while. "What's wrong?" she asked more concerned.
"…can't…talk," he uttered out. He could smell the flowers on her, like he did in the gondola when he had first realized his affection for her and they confessed their love to each other. He could smell the ocean on her, but not nearly as strong as it was that day long ago. He took one long deep breath, and built up the courage to look her in the eye. Her blue eyes were searching his, and his were doing to same. Her hair had grown slightly, now to the middle of her neck and it framed her round face perfectly. Her rosy cheeks and lips were vibrant and beautiful.
Elizabeth could see the redness in his eyes, and she knew it wasn't from alcohol or allergies. She brushed her fingertips on his eyelids and he closed them for her. She leaned in a little and planted a soft kiss on each of his eyelids and placed small pecks on his temples and down the bridge of his nose. A kiss was laid on both corners of his lips, and after what she deemed that to be teasing enough; she pressed her lips to his and ran her hands through his hair. "It's okay to cry," she whispered against his lips.
Booker fought the sob coming up his throat and focused his attentions on her lips. He tasted them, slightly bit them, and ran his tongue along her lower lip. She welcomed him in gladly, but she asked through the kiss for him to be gentle. He was surprised that he could tell just from the movements of her lips what she was asking and thinking. He went slow and tender, never pushing forward or picking up the pace. With any other woman, he would have kissed them ravenously, but with Elizabeth, he wanted to take his time and savor the intimate gesture with her.
After a minute or two, she pulled back first. She licked her lips and smiled lightly, "I can feel eyes on us."
When Booker looked around, he couldn't hold back the nervous chuckle when he saw many eyes staring at the public display of affection. He placed a quick peck on her lips and set her down, but he held onto her hands. "It's France, I'm sure they're used to it."
She giggled softly and looked behind her at the lights of Paris. She switched her hands to hold his and turned around to gaze at the romantic city. "Isn't it beautiful?"
Booker studied the backside of her and admired her small, but curvy figure, "Mhm, very beautiful," he murmured, referring to something, or rather someone else instead. He pressed up against her from behind and pinned her between the fence lining the veranda and his body. Elizabeth gasped slightly at the trap, but said nothing. Booker released her hands and wrapped them around her waist.
"Look," she chimed happily while pointing with her finger to a bright red and white building, "That's the Moulin Rouge. And that, that's the Eiffel Tower. Oh Booker, I've been wanting to see Paris all my life, and now I am!"
"Is it what you imagined?" he inquired, truly curious.
"No," she announced with a firm shake of her head. She bent her head back until she pressed into his chest, she looked up at him and smiled sweetly, "It's better than what I imagined."
He let out a sigh of relief and leaned down to kiss her forehead, "Good."
She brought her gaze back to the shining city and looked on with curious eyes, "What have you been doing since…you know?"
"Uh…" What was he supposed to say? I've been sleeping with women I barely know to help me cope with the loss of you? He was never good at the romantic stuff. "Um…"
"He's been moping around for the past two months he's been in my city," a feminine French accent called out.
Both Elizabeth and Booker turned to the sound of the voice, and while Elizabeth smiled shyly and bowed her head in greeting, Booker wanted to slap himself for forgetting about Gabrielle. But he wasn't too guilty about it; he had his Elizabeth back.
"You must be Elizabeth," Gabrielle assumed with a genuine smile. She held out her hand in a friendly shake.
The American woman grasped her hand tentatively, "Yes, I am. You are?"
"I'm Gabrielle, I am a friend of your dear Booker Dewitt here," she said as she gestured with her eyes to the man in question.
"Oh, well any friend of Booker's must be good," Elizabeth insisted with a wide smile.
Gabrielle held back a snort at her innocence. She looked the young woman up and down, and even though she hated to admit it, she understood why Booker was so hung up on this woman. She was beautiful, but what was most striking was the air around her. There was something so bright about her and she held an animated expression that could make any negative mood lighten. She pulled her hand away and looked to Booker, "I just wanted to come tell you that I had to cancel our plans. I don't know if I'll be able to reschedule."
Booker caught onto the subtle hint she was telling him by her white lie. He nodded softly, choosing not to say a word. Gabrielle pulled Elizabeth to the side, but Booker refused to let her hand go, so she was only two arm's length away as Gabrielle whispered into her ear. Elizabeth had a surprised expression, but she nodded and gave the French woman a kind smile. She returned to Booker's side and gazed up at him. He felt naked under her scrutiny, but he didn't mind it as much as he would with others. Gabrielle bid them good night and left the two on the veranda.
"Could we see the city?" Elizabeth asked, but a yawn followed her question.
"Maybe we should get you to bed," he said with a chuckle, "Come on, I have a hotel room across the street."
She followed as he pulled her along to the quant hotel, and the entire time he had a firm grip on her hand. It was tight, but she didn't mind in the slightest. She admired the building they walked to; it looked like the kind of hotel that imitated American hotels, but it had a friendly charm. They walked to the second floor and Booker unlocked the last door on the level. As he closed the door behind them, Elizabeth couldn't help but notice the one bed.
"Um, Booker, where am I going to sleep?"
"On the bed, of course," he spoke as he gestured towards the queen sized bed.
She arched an eyebrow in question, "But where will you sleep?"
Booker was baffled by her query, but then he felt selfish for his perplexity. Maybe it was quite silly to assume she'd want to sleep in the same bed with him. However, he decided to be honest of his initial intentions, "I thought we could sleep in the bed together."
She turned around and looked at him in surprise, but her brows lowered in realization, "Oh…"
"I can sleep on the floor, though," he insisted quickly.
"Oh, no! We can sleep in the bed together, but…"
He watched as she raised a hand to her mouth and as her eyes showed a thoughtful expression, "What is it, Elizabeth?"
"I-It's just… I don't think I'm ready to…you know. Do you know what I mean?"
It took a minute, but Booker understood her. She wasn't ready for sex, and truly, he wasn't expecting any. He just wanted to lay in the bed with her and hold her while she slept. True, he had thought about her and the act together, but he didn't expect for anything like that to happen right away. But he did want to show his affection for her like she did that one time on the gondola. "I know what you mean, and honestly, I wasn't expecting for us to do anything other than sleep."
A smile of relief grew on her lips, and she headed for the modesty screen in the corner of the room. But before she could take no more than a few steps towards it, Booker stopped her and pulled her back to him, "What's wrong?"
He shook his head gently and caressed her cheek with his right hand, "Nothing's wrong. But, if you're okay with it, I'd like to undress you for the evening."
Blush quickly rose on her round cheeks and she turned her face away to hide the modesty, "Are you sure that's alright?"
"Of course it's alright, Elizabeth," he spoke softly as he pulled her to look at him, "I won't try to make any advance on you, I promise. I just want to undress you is all."
After a moment of quietness, Elizabeth nodded and did her best to relax. Booker led her to the bed and gently pushed her to sit down. Once seated, he lifted her dress slightly to unlace her black leather boots. He slipped one off and went to work on the other. Elizabeth was holding her breath the entire time she watched him take off her boots, and she wasn't sure if she would be alive at the end of this.
"Breathe," he whispered to her, noticing her nervous expression. She let out a heavy breath and was rewarded with a light chuckle from him. He pulled off her small jacket and tossed it to the side of the room. After pulling her to stand up, she turned around for him to unbutton her white striped dress. Her breath hitched in her throat when his fingers traced down her arms as he slipped the sleeves of her dress off. She could feel his breath on her neck and ear, and she felt she could melt to puddle on the floor right then.
Booker pulled off her dress and threw it to her boots and jacket. He began to unlace her corset, and very slowly at that. He was aware he was teasing her, but from the sounds and expressions she was making, he wasn't sure if he could stop or hold himself back. He got the white corset off and it joined her other pieces of apparel. All she was left in was a white silk slip that showed off her shoulders and neck wonderfully. It was cut to just below the knee and stitched in at the waist. He kissed her neck as if telling her she could go to sleep now.
Elizabeth turned around and looked up at him with a shy but hopeful smile, "What about my stockings?"
In all actuality, he wasn't sure if he could pull off her stockings. He was afraid that if he did, he wouldn't be able to control himself and go on to do much more than just that. But that sweet little smile playing on her lips was enough to make any man fall to their knees and beg for mercy. Without him saying a word, she sat back down on the bed, held her left leg out and twirled her foot around. He took a deep breath and bent to remove her stockings.
Elizabeth shivered from the feeling of his touch on her thigh, and her bottom lip was immediately trapped between her teeth. She watched as he slowly pulled the sheer white stocking off her leg and as his hand went for the next one, the same feeling went up her spine and she felt like she was going to pass out.
Booker went faster with the second one, because if he went as slow as he did with the first, he'd surly go over the edge by the feeling of her skin on his fingertips. He picked her up and scooted her to the middle of the bed, covered her with the blankets and made sure it covered her up to her chin. One more look at her body and he'd explode right there. She raised herself on her elbows and watched as he undressed himself. Her lips were once again trapped, her eyes roamed all over him as he stripped to just his underwear, and she swore the temperature was getting hotter. Without looking her in the eyes, he crawled under the blankets and turned off the lamp that offered the only light in the room.
Elizabeth had to shake her head to realize how that all just happened. It was dark, but she felt around and soon found his body. She cuddled up next to him and after a moment of patting and feeling with her hands, she found his cheek and kissed him. "Goodnight, Booker," she whispered in a sleepy voice as she rested her own cheek on his chest.
He gulped hard when her knee brushed up against him there. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."
The room fell silent, and Booker assumed she had fallen asleep. That was until she inquired softly, "Did you really call out for me when you were with Gabrielle?"
He looked down at the young woman on his chest and raised his brows in surprise, "Where did you hear that?"
"She whispered it to me. She said that when she was with you, you'd accidently call her Elizabeth. Is that true?"
He couldn't lie to her, even though he was slightly embarrassed by the way it made him come across as clingy. "Yes."
She rested her chin on his chest and squinted up at him through the darkness. She could make out the structures of his face and studied him closely, "I called for you too. All the time. I thought the more I called your name the better chance I had of finding you."
Booker sighed quietly and ran a hand through her hair, "Well, you found me, so I guess it worked."
Elizabeth rested her cheek on his chest again and closed her eyes, ready for sleep. "I guess it did."
Author's note: I'll admit that I don't like this chapter as much as the ones before, but that's bound to happen. I hope it was a good read and please let me know what you thought. Also, what direction should we make these two go? Should they get married? Have kids? Let me know, please!
Again, I'll try to write the next chapter soon, but we'll see. Thanks for all the support! -Sarai