I wasn't planning on updating this today, but I thought it might be worth a try, if I can cheer anyone up.
"Do we really have to do this?" He asks in a whiny voice, akin to a sleepy four year-old's.
She chuckles, lifting her eyes from what she's reading to look at him. "Well, let's see. We need a bigger place. We have been looking for three months now and haven't found a single 'maybe'. If we want to move in before summer than, yes we really need to do this. Fitz, he is the best."
He lifts her feet up from the chair and sits down, placing them in his lap. "Second-best could be fine." He starts massaging the balls of her feet lightly; he can feel her relaxing.
"You are not changing my mind." But she flashes him a smile that says – I dare you to try.
He drops her legs to the floor and she lets out a cry of complaint, before he pulls her into his lap, kissing her. At first it's tender, their lips brushing softly, barely touching They pull apart, their foreheads together, air between them filled with electricity. "Changed your mind yet?" He asks with a smirk, but she just shakes her head, looking at him, her eyes challenging him. The second kiss is deeper, their tongues dueling, as he runs the tip of his along her bottom lip before pulling away. "How about now?" He asks through a smile. She just shakes her head, their noses brushing against each other, making them both giggle. He kisses her again, this time his hand moves under her shirt, his fingertips setting her skin on fire. Hers run up his back and then get lost in his hair. When they finally break for air, lips swollen, her arms are around his neck, not letting him move away. She leans her forehead against his and smiles lazily.
She asks him this time, "Changed your mind?"
"I have nothing to worry about." He says with a wide smile, as he moves his hands down the bare skin of her back to her ass, lifting them both up.
She lets out a loud laugh, surprised, and then adds gingerly, "You have nothing to worry about." Wrapping her legs tighter around his waist.
She tugs at his shirt as he carries her, "Shower, or bed?" He asks as he moves to kissing the other side of her neck, pushing their bedroom door open with his back.
"Shower," she says breathlessly, "we shouldn't be late," before kissing him again.
"I can't believe we're twenty minutes late." She hisses at him as they rush down the busy street.
"It's fine Liv." He squeezes her hand reassuringly, but she just shoots him an angry look. He returns a smile, the one he knows she can't resist, the one that makes her knees go weak. "As far as I remember, you're the one that started the second round."
She blushes slightly, thinking about it, wishing they were still in bed, "I don't know what you're talking about." She says in an innocent voice, but a sly smile creeping on her face.
She looks at the numbers on the street and finally stops, "I think it's here?" He checks his phone and then nods his head. "Fitz, I need you to behave." She says playfully, but there's a hint of seriousness in her voice. "Seriously, adult behavior." He just nods his head, then kisses her temple, muttering "Don't worry," Before leading her up the stairs.
They push the door open, and call out as they step inside.
"I'll be right with you." And moments later a handsome man descend down the stairs, his smile widening as he takes the sight of her in. As he reaches the bottom step he opens his arms, inviting her in for a hug, letting out an excited, "Liv!" She smiles back at him, tilting her head to the side slightly, before throwing herself in his arms, letting out a quiet, "It's been too long." His hands run up and down her back, before settling just below her waist. She kisses his cheek fondly, before stepping out of his embrace and turning around, ready to introduce her husband.
It takes all her willpower not to chuckle. Fitz's face is deep red, and she can see the vain pulsing on his forehead, from where she's standing, half a room away. He's shooting daggers at the man's chest, no hint of friendliness on his face. "Fitz, honey," she tries to break him out of it, and he moves his eyes from his to her face, but the expression stays the same, "this is Ryan." She turns to Ryan with a wide smile, her hand gently squeezing his arm, "Ryan, this is Fitz, my husband."
Ryan gives him a thousand-watt smile, the most adorable dimples appearing in his cheek, as he curls the corners of his lips. "So, you're the one." Fitz gives him a half-smile, his eyes quizzical, "The one that finally got Liv to settle down." Fitz nods his head and shakes the man's hand; gripping it tightly, completely unconsciously. "God knows I tried," Ryan adds with a hearty laugh.
He's tall and incredibly handsome; in the most obvious kind of way; he's not a type; his attractiveness is a fact. Fitz has seen his face countless times, he's seen this man; he's seen him play; he's cheered for him and admired him. Until he found out he and Liv were dating, that is. He was the basketball star of his generation; he had the height, the speed, virility; he had his Livvy – he had everything. He was talented and adored; by experts and fans alike. He was adored by his own son. All Gerry wanted for his fifth birthday was to go to the game; the game of the season; of the championship; the game at which he would play. He remembers Gerry cheering as he made the winning shot; the ball flying graciously across the court, hitting the net without ever touching the ring. He remembers Gerry cheering; he remembers his stomach turning into an endless pit; the sinking sensation in his legs as that man pulled her into an embrace, as she kissed him, the way she used to kiss Fitz, as she smiled at him, the way she used to smile at Fitz; while he stood and looked, unable to turn away.
He feels her hand trying to open up his fist, her fingers straightening his; her thumb circling his palm, trying to calm him down. It breaks him out. He smiles at her, kissing her temple lightly and then fires a smile at Ryan, "Sorry, I just got distracted."
"No worries." Damn-it-he's-charming. He hates him all the more for it. What a prick! Liv squeezes his hand, trying to get him to relax, but he just further tenses up.
"So, is this the house?" She asks, trying to break the tension, so thick you could cut it with a knife.
"Yes." Ryan says, as he turns around. "It's a five-bedroom, three-bathroom, three-floor brownstone. Let me show you around." And he gestures them to the archway on their right. "So through here is the kitchen and the dining room. The previous owners liked open spaces so they knocked down the wall, and joined the rooms. It makes it look more spacious, and it's also great for families." Liv takes in the space. The back wall is covered in French windows, double doors opening into the garden. Everything in the room is a soft off-white color; warm and inviting. The wooden floors are old, but she loves that, it gives the place a sense of history; gives it a story. She notices Fitz looking at her face, looking at the way it changed, how an unconscious smile appeared and grew, how her eyes filled with light. He lets go of her hand and wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She leans into him, inhaling him. She can see them here. She can see them drinking coffee in the morning, as Zo sits at the kitchen counter, eating her breakfast. She can see Nur running around, pulling her "blankey" behind her. She can see their kids, growing up here; she can see them making memories – celebrating birthdays, anniversaries.
Ryan gives them a moment, before he ushers them through the original hallway, into the living room. The back is, again, covered in windows, shadows of the restless trees playing on the opposite wall – it's a beautiful show. There's a fireplace, and Fitz looks at Ryan, who reads his mind before he can even ask, "It works." The work around it is beautiful, the frame hand-carved. She can see their family photos on the board, each one in a different frame; she can imagine a Christmas tree in the corner and them lying underneath it, looking up at the flashing lights. She can hear the noise filling up the large space, making it warm, making it feel like home.
They head up and inspect the rooms on the first floor. Four bedrooms and two bathrooms. The corner room above the living room is large, the walls light-lilac, the furniture, the same off-white. Zoey. She can see her in there, making it her space. The other three are smaller, but big enough – Karen and Gerry wouldn't be using them all the time anyway; they wouldn't mind. The fourth room used to be a nursery, but it's different than the others, filled by melancholy; it looks like no one's stepped in in years. She turns to Ryan quizzically.
"It used to be a nursery, but, the couple who lived here – they couldn't have kids. They kept it like this, hoping, that one day they'd have a reason to fix it up – but the day never came." Liv steps out of Fitz's embrace and walks to the dusty crib, running her fingertips over the chipped paint. The history, the sadness, it doesn't scare her away, it makes her want to hear Nur's laughter filling up this room. As if, somehow, that happiness would make it better; as if their happiness could help take some of the sadness away. They head up the stairs, but she pauses before closing the door, wondering, how did she get this lucky.
They go into the study on the top floor first. Fitz likes it; it has wooden paneling, but it's not too medieval and dark, the windows and the light from the garden make the room come alive. The bathroom is spacious, with a modern shower; but both their looks rest on the large bathtub in the middle of the room; their eyes meeting; she smiles at him, fingering her hair, evidently flirting; as his eyes travel up and down her body, undressing her mentally, as he licks his lips. Ryan clears his throat, grinning, "Would you like to see the bedroom?" Liv blushes slightly, but Fitz just smiles at Ryan, genuinely for the first time.
As they step into the bedroom, Liv lets out a loud gasp, tightening her grip on Fitz's hand; looking up at him, wide-eyed. He smiles and wraps his arm around her, their fingers still intertwined. They just stand in the doorway for a moment, afraid that it might disappear if they step in, that they might wake up from a dream. This, this is too perfect to be real. The room is spacious and empty, except for a large bed, sitting underneath a glass dome that is decorating the ceiling. The bottom of the dome is made up of colorful glass; a mosaic of flowers, their petals shades of blue; their vines intertwined. The colors get lighter the higher up they are, and the top part is completely plain, transparent – the view unobstructed. The wooden floor is painted white, the reflection of the dome decorates it, making a circle of dissolving blue flowers around the bed; shimmering as the light dances to the tune of the February breeze. "I love it." She whispers, breathily, as she steps under the dome, looking up, turning around slowly. There's something magical in the way she's engulfed in the light; something magical about the way she lifts her hand, watching the shadows fall on the floor; something magical in the way this room makes her smile.
"I'll give you a moment." Ryan says and leaves the room, leaving Fitz to just look at her, to take it in, take her in. He crosses over to the bed, and sits, extending his hand to her, motioning her to sit next to him. They lie back, their feet still on the floor, but their faces gazing up, looking at the sky. "It's perfect, huh?" He says turning his head towards her, brushing his knuckles against her cheek lightly.
"Yeah." She smiles, taking his hand from her cheek, interlacing it with hers, running her bent fingers over his knuckles, before she brings them to her lips, giving each a feather-light kiss. She lets their hands rest between them, as she looks up at the ceiling, again. "But, what about Cy?" Her logic kicks in.
"We'll think of something." He says dreamily. She smiles, her lips barely moving, but a light coming into her eyes; that's why she loves him. That naivety that lets him enjoy things, that makes her take a breath and enjoy them as well. The innocence that makes her allow herself to believe that, this is, indeed, perfect.
"It's Brooklyn." She says finally, her mind unable to rest for long.
"Hey, that's a good thing." He says softly, as he starts rubbing small circles on the back of her hand.
"It's far away from Zo's school."
"She can transfer. They have private schools here as well. And I'm sure we can find one where she'll have to wear a uniform just the same, and where the kids will be equally snotty." She shoots him a look. "I'm kidding, Livvy. I know she loves it. And I know you love it. And it's a great school. But a change of scenery when she starts high school might not be a bad thing." She opens her mouth, but he cuts her off, "and before you say anything about her ballet classes, if she stays in her school, she can just go after; if she transfers, she can commute. Kids do it all the time. It's a half an hour subway ride and she can meet you after work and you can come back together."
"We don't even know what they're asking for it. We probably can't afford it."
"I asked and we can. The family's in a rush, we're probably going to be able to get them to lower it down." She turns to her side, just looking at him, not saying anything. Then she scoots over, closer, and lies on top of him, resting her head in the crook of his neck, as her hand draws circles on his chest; and his fingers trail her back.
"I can see us growing old here. Our kids growing up and then their kids running around. I could see babies in that nursery, hear the sound of little footsteps running. I can see us living here; I can imagine all of it."
"And we could set up a swing in the garden. And with that high ceiling we can get an enormous Christmas tree." She lifts her head up and kisses him lightly. "Babies, huh?" He says as soon as they pull apart, and she just nods her head, kissing him again. "Well, I was sold on the house the moment I saw that bathtub." He ads, eyeing her playfully; laughing when she slaps his arm lightly.
"There's just one thing though." He ads in a serious tone, the atmosphere changing. She props herself on her elbow, to be able to his face better. "I just really wish it wasn't Ryan that found it." And all seriousness disappears as his face breaks into a mischievous grin. "I mean all I'm saying, we're not tipping him. The way he hugged you, resting that hand so low on your back – that's borderline sexual harassment." She tries to get up, but he pulls her back down, his hand squeezing her ass. "Not that you seemed to mind."
"Oh yeah." She says before she kisses him, deeply, her hand brushing against his crotch, intentionally.
"Livvy…"
She pulls away, grinning at him, "You were saying?"
"Nothing."
"We should go, talk numbers." But she doesn't move, no she just stays with him in their little cocoon.
"One minute." She just nods her head, and buries it deeper in the crook of his neck.
Alexindigo's review gave me the idea for jealous Fitz and a guy from Liv's past, so thanks for that, although I feel like I should say the next chapter will really go into that more.
I'm away next week, but I've pre-written three chapters, so expect some updates.
And thanks so much for still reading this and reviewing!