Hey ! This one was really hard to write. Well, all the chapters are now. I'm reaching a knot in the story, it's getting tricky. Bring the comments on, that's what I live for.
Darcy wasn't the only one whose behaviour was intriguing. Richard was also acting weird. Although they didn't talk about it, Lizzie noticed that Charlotte joined Maria and herself in their bar nights almost every time now. What was more, Richard and Charlotte didn't take their meals together anymore, and their cutting sense of humour stopped resonating in the corridors of the hotels. Truth be told, neither of them laughed a lot these days.
Lizzie was worried. One does not need to be a romantic to have one's heart crushed. She wanted to mention the elephant in the room, but she knew better than to back Charlotte into a corner. She tried to create moments suitable for confidences, but nothing came out of it. Charlotte's lips remained sealed. Lizzie hoped her friend knew she was there if she wanted to open up. She couldn't blame Charlotte for remaining silent on the matter, though. Lizzie had not breathed a word about her awkward night-time situation with Darcy to anyone. Even if she had wanted to, she wouldn't have known what to say. Her feelings were knotty and his were a total mystery. Why was she even allowing him in her bed ? Because he was illegally handsome ? A cardboard version would be enough then. Because she missed human contact ? God, she hoped she was not that desperate. She was musing over the matter, a pen in her hand and an untouched sheet of paper in front of her. The gig was over, Lizzie had just got back from the stage. Jane was working on a new melody, and Lizzie had offered her help with the words. But right now, she was useless. Her pen was about to finally touch the paper when the object of her thinking darkened the door of the dressing room she was in.
At last, there were enough miles between the fuckhead and themselves, Darcy could tell her all. This was going to be a relief. And luckily, she was alone when he found her. That was no pillow-talk, besides, he did not want to pollute their nights with talks of Wickham. He still didn't know what had happened between them when they went out after the concert, and the force of the jealousy he felt unsettled him. His fist closed and opened. He both wanted to know and wanted to remain ignorant. That probably was the way Schrödinger's cat felt like. On a more existential level, but still, quite close. His eyes roamed over her body, he wished she was still in her pyjamas. She wore nothing too revealing or vulgar, but he liked the intimacy of knowing what she looked like and what she wore to bed. She was delicious. Their nights… Now that was a more delightful thought. He swallowed. Lying next to her was so incredibly peaceful, he still had to find something that relaxing. She felt like she was moulded to fit perfectly against his body. Since that fatal dance were he had stupidly thrown himself at her, his main goal in life was to stay glued to her. He would lie if he said he did not wanted more than mere sleep. It was a blissful torture to resist his body's urge. Where he got that strength from, he had no clue. But he couldn't do more. She was a crew member, she was untouchable.
And there he was again, staring. Lizzie breathed out heavily, and put her pen down. One would have thought she would get used to being silently judged all the time, but no, she did not. She was still annoyed. A few more seconds passed, she raised an eyebrow at him. He seemed to be coming back from some kind of trance he was in. Did she have so many flaws he needed time to list them all ? Maybe he was categorising them. Alphabetically or from the most serious to the most insignificant ? One day, she would have to ask.
Shit, he still had not uttered a single word. He cleared his throat. He really was so stupid when she was around. Was it truly that necessary to talk about Wickham ? With a bit of luck, they would never meet again. After all, what were the odds that he would interview The Meryton Assembly again ? Or Lizzie ? Should the situation arise, Will would interfere. No, that would not happen, he would make sure of it. He turned around and closed the door. When he faced Lizzie again, the colour on her cheeks was a little bolder.
Her heart beat faster. Why did being in a closed room with him affected her so ? Where did that even come from ? The only moments when they had been together these past days were when he joined her at night. But then, the light was only on for a few minutes. And he was always gone before she woke up, except that one day, when she had pretended to be asleep when he woke up. Now, they were face to face under the unflattering brightness of the dressing room with something heavy hanging between them. And he was not moving. Nor saying anything. She was getting hot under his gaze. The guy could have started a fire had he looked at a log of wood the way he was staring at her right now. Maybe he didn't find her so repulsive after all. She was blushing, oh for fuck's sake, how old was she ? Lydia would be ashamed of her. Something needed to happen, or else… Or else what ? Or else Lizzie would be so nervous she would burst out laughing. The tension was so thick, she would have needed a good knife to cut through it.
His lower lip was stuck between his teeth. There really was no hurry to tackle that unpleasant subject now. It had been left unspoken for days already, a couple more wouldn't do any harm. He took a step forward. He had no desire to talk about this right now, not when she was standing in front of him, looking so enticing. Desire, he had more than enough, for other things. With those fews nights by her side, his hunger for her had skyrocketed. If he was not planning on telling her anything, he should leave before he did something stupid again. One more step. Like that. Where the fuck was the rational part of his brain ? South, apparently.
Maybe she should ask him what he wanted. How long were they going to silently stare at each other like that ? Plus, they kind of had matters to discuss. How to phrase « Why do you come to my bed if not to fuck me ? I like it and I hate it. And I loath you. » without sounding like a bitch ? She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. Talk, she needed to do that right now. Where was your inner Caroline Bingley when you needed her ? Her lips parted, then closed again. No, he should be the one speaking. He was the one who came here, and he was the one who was haunting her bed at night. She stood taller, her chin a little higher and her cheeks less coloured, or so she hoped.
One more step. He was moving slowly, smoothly, eyes focused on his goal, drawn to her by an invisible force, until he was standing in front of her. Neither spoke. One heartbeat, two. Her golden eyes were challenging him. His blue ones traced her face, landed on her luscious lips for a few seconds, then darted to her eyes again. Between them, the silence was deafening. Her pulse quickened, the tension grew. Why wasn't she moving ? She could just turn around, sit back and concentrate on her lyrics again, pretend he was not there. Oh but no, she couldn't. She was rooted to the floor. Any movement was impossible, she was paralyzed. Right now, nothing existed except him. His scent was reaching her nostrils. Something like spice mixed with leather. Manly, definitely him. His breaths were coming shallow, his chest rising and falling faster. His massive chest, what a man. Was she still breathing ? She was not sure. His intense stare was pinning her to the floor. A few never-ending seconds passed. Eyes held each other, pulse quickened. He leaned closer, her lips parted slightly. That's all the invitation he needed. His resolve dissolved instantly. Fuck his principles. In an instant, his mouth was on hers. Soft, she had been right. Her cry of surprise died in his mouth and sounded to her ears like a moan. Kissing him was nothing like she had imagined. It was better, way better. Gentle at first. Lips against lips, caressing. Then, more commending, demanding a respond, nibbling at her lower lip. The velvet of his tongue on her lips and in her mouth was heaven. Their tongues entwitened, sparred, battled in the most delicious way. The guy could kiss.
Just as she thought she should push him back, she felt one of his hand on her cheek. The warm contact melted her. It travelled to her neck and in her hair and the heat of this touch set her on fire. His other arm encircled her waist and crashed her to him. It was divine. More.
It was his time to groan when her hands reached his hair as she started kissing him back, pulling him closer, pressing her body against his. Oh, she liked that sound. His hands started roaming over her body, like he was in a hurry. The edge of her shirt was quickly tucked out of her shorts so a hot hand could explore her back. A sigh of pleasure passed her lips and she felt him smile against her mouth. The bastard was proud of the way she reacted to him. Somewhere, in the back of her brain, she remembered she hated him, quite thoroughly. However, that seemed irrelevant now that he was kissing her like his life depended on it. And so skilfully. This was chemistry like she had never experienced before.
This needed to stop. He had already overstepped all the boundaries he had set. He started pulling back, breathing heavily. She moaned her disagreement and took hold of his shirt to drag him back to her. Their lips collided again. The kiss became something else. Hungry, carnal. Her hands found their way under his shirt and she sighed with relief when one of his hand finally cupped her breath. A deep sound came from the back of his throat. Her body tickled. His mouth left hers to kiss his way down her jaw to the sensitive spot behind her ear. He knew which button to press to have her at his mercy. She sucked in a breath and squeezed his butt, hoping it would affect him as much as he was affecting her. Her hands were leaving a trace of fire when they got back up his back. He blew hard as he nibbled at her tender neck. She was just as exquisite as she looked. He kissed his way up to her mouth again. She was boneless by now. His hands were doing delicious things to her body.
- You've been driving me crazy for weeks, he whispered with a husky voice against her collarbone. I've been barely able think about anything but you.
She had forgotten her species was capable of speak. His words were pairing with his mouth and hands to send goosebumps all over her body. She was pretty sure she moaned. After all, that's what every woman wanted to hear.
- I've resisted as much as I could, obviously.
He was sucking at her earlobe. Her eyes flew open. What the hell ? That was not exactly what she thought would follow.
- Even that dreadful lunch at your parents' place could not knock some sense into me, his lips were brushing against her throat. It should have, it was horrible.
His warm mouth clasped hers again. His words were slowly sinking in, but her brain still struggled to reboot when his tongue was dancing deliciously with hers. She was feeling hot, and it was not due to his attentions.
- It's a bad idea, but I can't help it, he continued, his three-day-beard stroking delectably the skin of her shoulder as he gently nipped her. I know you want me too.
He was gifted with that mouth. Except when he used it to speak. Then, it was a disaster. Every word he said fed the anger that was slowly building inside her.
- In a few weeks, the tour will be over, you won't be our technician anymore, we'll be able to be together, he added between sweet kisses. Unless you want me to fire you now, he chuckled.
That was it. Her brain had gathered enough bullshit to work properly again. She pushed him back and ignored the disappointment her body felt at the loss of his touch. Or how wonderfully hard his chest was under her hands. A bewildered look graced his features, it irritated her to no end.
- I would give you a reference. You did an excellent job, he said, astonished.
Things were not turning right. Just a few seconds ago, she was in his arms, eager and responding, and now her eyes were murdering him.
- I know I did ! she exclaimed.
For a moment, fury made her speechless. She had so many things to throw at his face, she didn't even know where to start.
- What the fuck ! was the only coherent sentence that came out of her mouth.
It also was the one that wrapped things up quite completely. His face turned serious again as he waited for her to elaborate. This was not exactly what he had pictured in his mind after he had declare his feelings for her. And after she had kissed him back quite keenly. Did he misinterpret her reaction ?
She ran a hand over her face and exhaled heavily as her limb fell to her side.
- So, you want me but you don't want to, is that it ? she summarised. What am I supposed to say ? Thank you ? Oh no, I would gladly do without your feelings for me.
Her hands closed into fists. Cold realisation slapped Darcy right in the face. The passion she had felt for him earlier now turned into outright fury. And even more, disgust. He took a step back when her accusing finger pointed at him.
- I'm a fucking good musician, she growled. I don't need grand mister Will Darcy to put a word in for me, her pride had been picked, she wouldn't let this question uncalled for. Do you really think firing me would put me into your bed ? « Oh, thank you so much for making me jobless, let's have sex. » she role-played.
He shook his head in exasperation. She really was obstinate when she put herself at it.
- You are a technician. I can't have anything to do with a crew member, he tried to explain as calmly as he could but annoyance coloured his words.
Surely she could see it. She stood taller and crossed her arms in front of her.
- I see, she replied in an angry tone. A simple technician is not good enough for you, is it ? Is that the core of your struggle ? Is this why it is a bad idea, like you phrase it ? If it is, I'm positive you will overcome this quickly.
Her voice was calm and furious at the same time. Something in her chest broke. She did not want to be reduced to her status, not when it was one she chose and enjoyed. More puzzlingly, she did not want him to think that. She didn't like that feeling.
- It's not… he grunted while racking both hands through his hair, pissed.
Why was she twisting everything he said ? The sentence hang in the air, unfinished. She really was painting the situation in the worst light. If only she could see his point.
- And what's with my family ? she attacked before he could explain himself. How horrible for you to be invited to a barbecue where everybody had fun, she mocked.
Ok, maybe she exaggerated a bit, not everybody had fun. She was in front line of those who were embarrassed, but still, they had made a move to be friendly. He could be grateful, couldn't he ? Charles and Richard sure managed to. He could have met them half way, couldn't he ? But no, he hadn't make the slightest effort to be pleasing, that day. Or any other. Fuckhead.
His head jerked in an exasperated movement. He took a deep, irritated breath.
- Do you want me to pretend I enjoyed your family's indecorous behaviour ? Or your sisters', at Netherfield ? he snapped back, his temper rising.
She was being stubborn.
- They are young ! she yelled back, throwing her hands in the air.
- Did you behave the same way when you were their age ? he asked, crossing his arms on his torso.
Her eyes narrowed, her lips formed a thin line. That was petty.
- And what did Jane do, not to earn your approval ? she answered back. Did she eat with her mouth open ? Was her laughter too loud ?
His lips parted slightly, but Lizzie was so consumed by wrath, she didn't give him enough time to reply. She leaned to him.
- She's the sweetest most gentle and loving person you'll ever meet in your contemptible existence, she spat at him. How dare you try to shatter her happiness with Charles ? That's none of your business, you cantankerous arsehole !
Will was half tempted to kiss her once more. She was definitely sexy when she was enraged. Maybe her ire would turn into passion again. This was a dangerous bet. Anyway, there was no point in answering her. She was in such a state, she wouldn't listen to anything he would tell her. So, he just stared at her as she kept on.
- You don't have any consideration for people's feelings, do you ? she took a step back. Did you ponder what you were doing when you fired Wickham ? You left him destitute, with no perspective and he was your childhood friend !
As soon as the name reached his ears, Darcy's inner volcano exploded. Wickham. What the fuck was he doing in this conversation ? The asshole would damage everything in his life, it seemed. The jealousy he had been trying to put aside came back for revenge. His eyes were throwing flames, he took a step towards her. Her chin only rose higher.
- What about him ? he was surprised to hear his voice was rather contained. He's in a better situation than he deserves. I told you, stay away from him, he threatened.
- Or else what ? she defied him.
She took a step towards him. They were so close, their noses were almost touching. His eyes were devouring her face. Kissing her wouldn't make things any better. It had just make their situation worse. His mind still struggled to understand how things had gone sour so quickly.
She couldn't remember a time when she had been thus enraged. Every fibre of her being was cold and hot with fury. Just who did this guy think he was ? He just insulted her and her whole family, depreciated her status and was proud of the way he treated an old friend.
- I hate you so much ! she finally spat out.
He was furious. And hurt. So that was how she saw him ? It seemed pretty hopeless, then. Why did he still wanted her, after all she had said ? He should despise her, damn it ! This was not rational. Damn that heart she had shreds to pieces.
- There's nothing more to say, then, he softly said.
On that, he turned around. When the door banged closed, Lizzie collapsed on a nearby chair, exhausted. Now, she had material to write a song.
Her glass hit the bar with a rather strong noise. Her anger was still as strong as it was hours ago, after that awful encounter. Writing a song hadn't been soothing enough. What a monumental piece of shit ! Words were not powerful enough to describe how Lizzie hated him, and that linguistic frustration fuelled her fury. How dare he ! Just who did he think he was ? Granted, he was some kind of god in the music industry, but still ! That did not give him the right to go around and insult people. Nor passionately kiss them. She shivered. The mouthful she took from her drink was a bit too much and she choked. Her wrath crept one ladder up. One had to be a tremendous conceited moron to think that she would react positively to what he said. Who would ? « Hey ! Let's be together, but first, let me insult you and your family ». She snorted. Her glass was empty, her mind was beginning to blur a little, but she needed another drink. The bartender felt it too apparently, because a full glass was sitting in front of her before she had asked for anything. She raised it to the barman and took her first sip. He nodded and went back to the cocktail he was preparing. Even this two-seconds interaction with a total stranger was simpler than all of her history with Darcy. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. His words were on repeat in her mind. Bloody arse. Her blood was boiling, if she sat still any longer, she would explode, she needed to burn this angry energy. She got up and left the bar to pace the corridors of the hotel. Now what ? What was she supposed to do ? Avoid him ? She never wanted to see him again, but she still had a few weeks to go playing with Pemberley before Charles' wrist would be completely healed. Would he replace her ? If he did, she would not beg for her place. She would go, head high. To prove him not every Bennet was coarse. And maybe quit. The tour was almost over anyway. God, she hated him so much. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text. From George. She couldn't prevent the smile that stretched the corner of her lips. Perfect timing. « Hey beautiful ! Been thinking about you. Any chance we can catch up in the next weeks ? » Now that was the way to talk to a girl. She was about to type an answer, when Darcy's name appeared on her screen. He was calling her. She stopped walking for a few seconds and breathed heavily. Now was way to early to talk to him again. Oh, she wanted to, badly, the tank of shit she wanted to sink him in was not empty yet, but that seemed unwise. She breathed slowly as she watched the screen go dark and the call ending to the voice mail. Better that way. What could he possibly have to tell her anyway ? Did he forget to abuse her cat ? She kept wandering the corridors. Her mind boiled as her legs walked. To her surprise, her phone bipped again. Voice mail. The speed of her pace increased again. The douchebag was impossible to ignore, wasn't he. Well, the message would sit unheard until at least tomorrow morning. She had had enough of him for one night. More than enough. Maybe she would never listen to that message, ever. Would he have the nerves to show himself on her door step tonight ? She hoped not, or else she would grind him up. Well, now she hoped he would come, to have a second chance at tearing him apart. Would he come and kiss her savagely like he had done ? She shivered, that was thrilling. Wait, no ! No it was not ! She focused on her breathing, she needed to calm down. She couldn't come to her room in that state of fury, Jane would make her do yoga. A voice mail. Maybe it was just one of these were you were surprised by how quickly you reached the voice mail. It was surely just a few seconds of silence, and then nothing more. Or just a string of insults. He was quite good at it. Or maybe he was crying in a fetal position on the floor of his room. That's what he deserved. Curiosity was gnawing her. Ok, let's face it, she was never going to sleep if the content of that message remained a mystery to her. His furred voice was coming from her phone. His tone was not as controlled as it usually was. He dithered, he stammered. He was drunk.
- Don't worry, I'm not going to miserably repeat my feelings to you. That would be pathetic. I'll just drink to forget I ever had feelings for you.
There was a sound of some liquid being drunk straight from a bottle.
- Besides, you made yours towards me soooooo clear.
A bitter laugh ended that sentence. The ire which had put her phone to her ear was gone. He sounded so hurt, she felt genuinely bad for him. She had accused him of not caring for other's feelings, yet her words were the ones to put him in this state. Guilt wrapped her from head to toes like a heavy blanket. Not for rejecting him, but for the way she did it. Did she have to be so mean ? The sound of liquid dancing in a bottle began the next part of his message.
- You accused me of two things, I feel I have the right to defend myself on those matters, his voice was getting colder. About Wickham, he took an other mouthful of his bottle. That fucking bastard. That, there was a pause, worthless dickhead. Richard was right, I should have talked to you right away. That motherfucker was our first manager and a very close friend since early childhood. I bet he emphasised this point. That's usually his way of getting people's attention. And people like nothing better that to have a juicy, ugly story about some kind of celebrity.
Lizzie's stomach formed a very elaborated knot. She didn't like it, but he was right. And for the first time, she was seeing fame from his perspective. All the stories she had read in the trashy magazines she bought with Lydia and Kitty had always appeared funny to her. She never realised they could be based on true facts, even partially. To say nothing of the fact that the audience would crave for horrid gossips. The love of fans that would turn to hate.
- What did he tell you next ? the message continued. Did he whine because bad bad Darcy fired him and left him penniless on the streets ? the volume of his voice was going up. He had more than his share of cash. He would still be loaded if he hadn't thrown everything on whores. And gambling, a joyless laugh interrupted his sentence. Man, the guy sucks just as much at music as he does at cards !
Lizzie heard him gulp down at least three mouthfuls of alcohol.
- But yeah, I did that, and I wish I had done far worse, he spat.
She shivered. She had never heard him so angry, she was relieved they were not face to face. Was the alcohol amplifying his fury, or was it only allowing it to finally break free ?
- I bet he didn't tell you why, his voice was suddenly calmer, which was more frightening. He wanted to be rich and famous, but he was not talented. Classic failed musician story. Resentment started building up. Saying we were making it only because of his skills as a manager. He wanted more and more money, and started making us do shitty things because it paid well. I didn't like his way of doing things, nor the people he started to work with. It was turning sour. I fired him and shattered all his prospects in music after the vermin charmed my little sister, his voice broke.
He took a few breaths and kept on.
- He got her drunk, and probably also drugged her, and convinced her to take naked pictures. Told her it would help start her violin career, Will snorted.
He had vomited the last words. One could not sound more bitter.
- He wanted revenge over me. Personally and professionally. He knew I would be… and it wasn't good press for Pemberley. And money, he wanted money as usual. She was only 18, crippling shy and in love with him. She did what he told her. He broke her, he sighed.
There was silence for a time, then, the sound of a mattress on which someone collapsed.
- She felt so bad, she told me the whole thing. I used all the contacts I could to hush the thing up and bring him down, and prevent these pictures from becoming public. You can ask Richard if you don't believe me. He knows everything.
There was a long pause, he was drinking again. Lizzie was so shocked, she was not sure what she felt. His distress was obvious and for all his flaws, he would never make up such a story about his sister. But all of this seemed so foreign to the charming George Wickham she had met. How could anyone look so nice and be so rotten on the inside ? Her heart went to the young girl. 18. Poor, poor thing. She hoped she had had someone to talk to.
- And for Jane, his tired voice continued, I did what I felt was right.
Instantly, Lizzie's rage was back full force. So, he was not going to apologise ? That was none of his business. Arrogant prick.
- She always seems so composed, I was not sure she was as attached to Charles as he was to her. He was, is, he corrected himself, head over heels in love with her. And your mother made it clear she wanted her daughters to be well off. I wondered…. Jane never gave any sign of being mercenary, but it is a good match for her, you can't deny it. I just didn't want Charles to be unhappy. That's all. He's a good guy. My concern was genuine.
Lizzie wanted to be enraged with him, but there was no denying what he was saying. It was all true. Jane was always guarded with her feelings, and the relationship was advantageous for her. To an outside observer, this could paint a very different image than it really was. Classic it's-not-what-it-looks-like. But Jane was sincere, she was in love with Charles. How could she convince anyone ? Lizzie used to think only Charles' opinion mattered, but things are a little more subtle when you are in the public eye. There's more at stake. Will sighed.
- I'm sorry if I said things that offended you, his words were less intelligible by now. I wanted to be honest, I'm not very good at this, he paused. Talking, I mean, not being honest. Well, being honest while talking. I always end up saying the wrong thing. It is the right thing to say, but not the right way of saying it, he was getting tangled in his speech.
Lizzie smiled despite herself. Another sigh, and the sound of an empty bottle rolling on the floor.
- Night, Lizzie, he whispered after a long silence.
The message ended. Her heart constricted in her chest and berated her : here goes your chance at love. That was an adieu. He was not going to come to her bed tonight, or any other night, she supposed. Whipping tears front her eyes, she watched carefully her screen and made sure she saved the voice mail. She already knew she would be listening to it again.
Her bewildered look and zombie-like walk when she entered their suite an hour later told Jane something was wrong.
- What it it, Lizzie ? she asked, concern thick in her voice.
Lizzie dried the tears from her cheeks. She was not ready to listen to Darcy's message again, not yet. And she didn't want Jane to hear how wounded he was, because of her. So, she wrapped the situation up, leaving out the details of what Wickham had done to Darcy's sister. Somehow, it had felt like a confidence. It was not her story to tell. Besides, the way he had said Richard knew the particulars implied that not everybody was aware. She just asked her sister to believe her on that point. When Lizzie was over, a steaming hot mug of tea was in her hands and Jane was gently stroking her back, all the while making soothing noises. Jane really was what everyone needed in state of distress.
- Poor Lizzie, you're so upset.
Lizzie barked a laughter.
- Poor me ? Oh Jane, you're incredible. You should be flogging me. I was horrible with Will and so wrong. I've never been so ashamed of myself, tears were running down her face again.
Her sister gently smiled at her.
- You wanted to defend what you thought was right. It's an admirable quality, she reassured her sister.
- Yeah, Lizzie bitterly answered, it may be when you hit the right target. Why did I even believe a single word George said ? I should have known better.
- But are you sure what Wickham did was so horrible ? Could it not be some kind of misunderstanding between them ?
Sweet Jane, she was the sunlight of this dark world. Lizzie shook her head.
- Trust me, even you wouldn't be able to forgive him. Had Charlotte known before the interview, I'm pretty sure she would have served him his balls on a silver plate. And you would have helped her.
- Oh. Ok.
Lizzie couldn't get over the fact that she had been so easily played for a fool. She had drunk every word George had spoken without questioning it. Where had her critical thinking gone to that night ? In retrospect, his attitude seemed so out of place now. Her pride was bruised. She had been so eager to be fed stories that went along with what she already thought about Will. She rubbed her forehead.
- I'm as silly as Lydia and Kitty, she shook her head.
Jane smiled and placed an arm over her shoulders.
- They have their own special kind of intelligence.
Both sisters giggled.
- The worst part is, I know he is kind of right about our family, but it hurts to hear it out loud, you now ? He said so so clinically, Lizzie shook her head.
- I know, Jane said. We know how they are, and we love them anyway, but to a third party, it can be a bit… surprising. We can't deny that we wouldn't want them to behave differently sometimes.
Lizzie nodded. Jane had always had a talent to temper situations. She was sweet but not an idiot. Faced with Darcy a few hours earlier, she would have done better than Lizzie. Heck, they would surely have parted good friends.
- I have to say, Jane added after a pause, Will having feelings for you, I didn't see that coming.
Jane poked her sister's ribs gently. Lizzie smiled through her tears.
- His pants were the only ones saying they have feelings for me, she specified.
Lizzie focused on her mug of tea, her heart contracted a little at the thought that Will was not welcoming his attraction for her.
- It must be a pretty strong interest if it has been going on for weeks. He doesn't lack opportunity for sex, yet we haven't seen him or heard of him doing anything, or rather anyone, Jane observed, one brow up. Charles told me he doesn't do fans.
- Nor technicians, apparently. Who is he into ? Horses ?
Jane chuckled. Lizzie took a sip of her tea. Sarcasm was always a great way out of anger, or so her father had taught her.
- So, on a scale from 0 to wobbling legs, how good a kisser is he ? Jane asked.
Lizzie chocked on her tea and reddened.
- Oh, that good, hey ? Jane smirked.
- You have no idea, Lizzie managed to say while whipping her mouth with the back of her hand. It was out of this world. Incredible.
Her whole body shuddered. Jane's smirk widened into a grin.
Will hasn't been with anyone lately because he had been chastely visiting her bed theses past few nights. She hadn't had the heart to confess that to Jane. Her sister's words hit her hard. Weeks. Oh no. He had offered her his heart and she had trampled on it.
- Oh God, I feel so stupid, Lizzie's voice broke. I have to apologise.
The idea of him thinking badly of her disturbed her. Jane took a look at the hour on the alarm clock on the nightstand.
- It's not that late, he might not be asleep.
- Oh yes, he is, Lizzie contradicted her. He was dead drunk when he left that message, he must be sound asleep by now. Or in a coma. He drank at least a full bottle.
Because of me, she didn't add out loud.
- Tomorrow, then. We have a two-days break ahead of us, you'll have all the time you need.
- To prepare myself to crawl at his feet and beg for his forgiveness ? I'm already fully prepared, I can assure you.
Jane hugged her tight.
