rawrg! finally! woot. hehe. i love this chapter. hope you guys do too!
xxiv.
c’etait amour
waves pummeled the beach; the crashes drifting their ways through the porch screen and to sark’s ears. he breathed contentedly and kept his eyes closed. it had been a nice nap. he was lounging in a wicker chair on the porch, looking out at the ocean, and the sound lulled him to sleep. no more. the wind was picking up. there was a storm visible at the horizon. waves crashed harder and harder. he smiled as he tasted the salt in the air.
he closed up the porch so the furniture wouldn’t be ruined by the storm, but instead of heading inside, he headed out.
the wind was getting worse. waves were tearing away chunks of the beach. he stood at the edge of the hill, the wind swirling through his hair, the waves sending water to his face and clothes. the water was freezing and the wind made it so cold it was bitter, but sark didn’t flinch. he just stood, staring out at the almost black horizon, waiting for the rain to start.
lightning shot across the sky.
one, two, three. sark counted three seconds before its thunder accompanied it.
just a little longer, he thought to himself.
“sark!” sydney’s voice was carried off by the wind and it never touched his ears. “come in! it’s getting bad!”
she thought he was ignoring her. he hadn’t so much as heard a whisper. she headed out after him.
one drop. two drops. three, four, five. the rain starting pouring down. sark opened his arms as if to embrace it. the wind blew the drops sideways. they were slamming into his face, pounding against the sand with their tiny fists.
he closed his eyes, let his mouth drop open and tasted the sweet kiss of the rain. he licked his lips and dug his toes into the sand.
she tugged at his sleeve. he was surprised to see her.
“i was screaming at you for five minutes!” she exclaimed.
“i didn’t hear! i can barely hear you now!”
“let’s go in! it’s pouring!”
“that’s the point!”
he grinned, closing his eyes again. not at her. at the rain. at the weather. at mother nature. at god.
“don’t you feel connected to the universe? abe lincoln drank this water. louis the fourteenth. napoleon. winston churchhill. queen elizabeth.”
“i am too cold to be connected to the universe!” sydney smiled.
“then go inside! i need this. this marriage to a supreme being.”
she laughed and grabbed him, slamming her lips against his harder than the rain pounded against them. he opened his eyes as she kissed him just to watch her.
“you’re so beautiful,” he said when she pulled away.
“come inside! we’ve been connected with the universe enough for one day.”
she pulled him along with her as she took off.
once safely inside and toweling themselves off, sydney beamed at him.
“i never knew you believed in ‘a supreme being’,” she smiled.
“of course i do,” he looked at her incredulously before taking a towel to his hair. “why—don’t you?”
“no, i mean, i do. i just…i didn’t really expect you to be the type,” she replied.
“just because i basically kill people for a living doesn’t mean i don’t believe in a god,” he chuckled slightly. “i was born in ireland, you know? my mom raised me to be the good irish catholic boy. well, the catholicism didn’t really work out, but i still believe in god. i’m not big on the whole day of judgment thing or the idea that god has the plan for us, but i do believe in god. sometimes you feel such a connection with everything in the world, with all the people, all the places, all the things; at those moments, you have to realise there is something superior to life, something that brings us all together. i believe in a universal morality. you don’t harm someone weaker than you or someone who does not deserve it. i would never hit a child, or a sick person, or anything like that unless my life, or someone i loved’s life, was in danger. that’s wrong.”
she grabbed him again and kissed him.
“i love you,” she whispered.
he suddenly pulled her up to carry her in his arms. she burst with laughter. he silenced her with a kiss.
“love you too,” he said, his forehead pressed against hers.
he carried her through the mansion, taking mostly unused hallways and staircases so as not to be seen by anyone. she giggled and buried her head in the nook of his neck, kissing him gently.
he brought her to his room and laid her softly on the bed. he edged himself up next to her, burning her eyes with his swirls of blue. he kissed her lightly.
both of them still had damp hair; both were still shivering slightly; neither wanted to move. so they lay, curled up in each other’s arms, wrapped up in each other’s eyes. they just lay there.
“what’s going to happen to us?” sydney asked, breaking eye contact.
“what do you mean?” he wrapped his arms around her tighter.
“you know what i mean. they are never going to stop looking for me,” she said.
“yeah well we’re never going to let them find you,” he replied, kissing her head.
“how? are we living on the run forever? are we never going to settle down?”
he beamed. “do you want to?”
she pulled away. “it doesn’t matter. what matters is what is going to happen to us?”
“no,” he shook his head. “what matters is what you want. because if i know what you want, i will do everything in my power to give it do you. i will do anything i can to make you happy. and if living on the run with me isn’t what is going to make you happy, we won’t do it. if settling down isn’t what you want, i won’t do it. if you’d rather go back to l.a. and go back to what you know, you have to go. i refuse to make you unhappy.”
she sat on the edge of the bed, not looking at him. it didn’t work; he could still tell that she was crying. he rubbed her back, grazing lightly over the back of her neck—a place he knew was ticklish. she squirmed beneath his touch. he slipped his fingers over the back of her neck again. she giggled.
“you can’t tickle me every time—” she began.
“i know,” he sat up behind her and rubbed her back. “but i can kiss you, and hold you, and tell you everything is going to be all right. i can make you as happy as is within my power. i can wrap my arms around you and remind you that i love you.”
tears welled in her eyes again.
“i hate you,” she cried.
he pulled back and stared at her, eyes wide, seemingly frightened. she immediately backtracked.
“no, i don’t,” she said quickly. “but i hate this. i’m not worth this. i feel like i make the world go around; you love me; cia will be forever searching for me. i’m not that important. and i hate that you are supposed to be evil. i hate that you are changing my system of beliefs. i hate that i used to be one-hundred percent positive of morals and ethics and beliefs and in less than a year, you have torn that to shreds. i hate that i love you so much it hurts. i hate that i love you and that i love this place and that i love my mother and i love harris. i was so set in my ways and i hate that that has just completely changed.”
“so you want to go back?” he asked, eyes still wide.
“no, no, no,” she replied, cradling his face in her hand. “don’t get me wrong, this life is amazing and i never want to leave. but it hurts that i thought i was completely right and turned out to be completely wrong. do you understand?”
“no,” he grinned. “but as long as you don’t want to leave, i’m happy…and as for you thinking you aren’t worth this, you’re insane. you are definitely crazy.”
she smiled and rolled back onto the bed.
“maybe you’re the one who’s crazy.”
“you’re right,” he kissed her stomach. “crazy for you.”
she burst out laughing. “that was such a line! how many times have you used that one before?”
“girls don’t usually call me crazy, so i don’t usually get the chance,” he replied truthfully, still kissing her stomach lightly.
she tossed her head back lightly and arched to his lips. they were so soft, so precious to her. the way he touched her made her feel like she was the only woman in the whole world. it made her feel like she was worth everything he did for her. she loved him so much, his touch seared her skin.
he let his lips graze over her flat, smooth, gorgeous stomach.
one day… he promised himself silently as he traced her belly button with his fingers. he trembled when he touched her. he couldn’t help it. she was just so amazing, so beautiful, so perfect. she was his reason.
she sifted her fingers through his damp hair. he shivered as her hands came to his face and pulled him up to her. she kissed him lightly. he melted into her.
it was passionate, romantic. they kissed for half and hour, never breaking from each other except for air. eventually she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. it wasn’t like when they had been together before. it wasn’t a “i want you and i want you now.” instead it was love. real love. true love. pure love.
he cradled her in his arms before easing her shirt over her head. she traced the features on his face with her hands. he closed his eyes and breathed heavily.
“god vaughn would kill me if he knew what we were doing right now,” sark sighed.
sydney rolled over laughing. “i’m so glad foreplay makes you think about vaughn!”
“it makes me think about how you’re not his,” he rolled on top of her. “it makes me think about how you’re mine, how much i love you, how he was never good enough for you.”
“who says you are?” she taunted, smirking.
“you’re the one lying underneath me half-naked.” he started kissing her neck. “you’re the one who is going to be screaming out my name.” he pulled her to him by the hip. “you’re the one grinning at my erection pressing against you.” he kissed her passionately. “you’re the one who dissolves when i kiss you.”
“hey,” she retorted, “you do that too.”
he grinned. not replying, he kissed her again; both of them dissolved into each other. soon enough his undershirt was off and she traced the muscles of his back and torso. she took off his belt and undid his pants. sark jumped to stand on the bed and let his pants slid to his ankles. she tickled the back of his bare knees, making him fall back to the bed with laughter. she pushed his pants the rest of the way off and rubbed him through his boxers. he moaned.
“je t’aime,” he whispered through closed eyes. “te amo. ich liebe dich. ti amo. eu te amo. ik houd van u.”
she crawled up next to him. his eyes were still closed; he was still breathing heavily. she nibbled gently on his ear lobe.
“i love you too,” she whispered, light tears in her eyes.
suddenly he sprang to life and flipped her over underneath him. she shrieked with laughter. he kissed her neck as he unbuckled her pants. he kissed his way down to the top of her jeans and slowly pulled them down. he ran his hands all over her body. she pushed him back, sitting up. slowly, gently, carefully, sark unclasped her bra. it fell off her shoulders, and she tossed it aside. he held her face as he kissed her.
c’etait amour.
eventually naked and slowly molding into one another, they kissed. they held each other. they cuddled.
c’etait parfait.
he climbed on top of her, his blue eyes holding hers captive. she arched back—still keeping eye contact—as he slid in. this was all they wanted. to be together. they couldn’t live without it.
sark began to make love to sydney. he started slowly. almost tantalisingly slowly. but eventually his speed began to build up. he grinned and closed his eyes as he plunged himself in and out of her.
they both came, in shivers and convulsions and names seeping their ways over lips.
he rolled off, staring contentedly at the ceiling and letting his thoughts and his breath catch up with him. sydney turned away from him on the other side of the bed. he wrapped an arm around her and kissed her bare, flawless shoulder. only when he brushed the hair off of her face did he realise she was crying again.
“hey hey hey,” he rolled her over to face him. “what’s wrong?”
she just shook her head and looked away.
he kissed her wet eyes. that just made her sob. he pulled her close and buried her head into him.
“it’s okay,” he whispered. “you’ll be all right. i’m here. it’s okay.”
“just—” she choked out through her tears. “just hold me for a little while, okay?”
he wrapped his whole body around her and kissed her head. he squeezed her.
“i’ll hold you any time you need me too.”
she let the rest of her tears dry themselves on his bare chest. when she had regained control, she looked up and kissed him lightly.
***
that night, sark just talked. he told sydney everything, about everything. she hadn’t asked; she didn’t need to. he wanted to make sure she understood him. he wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t as horrible as the cia may have made him seem. he told her about safe houses he had always had, safe houses he had stopped using, mansions about which even irina didn’t know. he told her about underground bunkers and cashes of weapons. he delved into his past. he went so far as to tell her about his family. he told her about killing his father. he told her of his mother and sister, his home in ireland.
it was the most intimate night they had ever had together.
c’était amour.
okay so we got a few more chapters, but i don't know how to end this. i have three ways:
a) bitter
b) angsty...very very very very angsty
c) fluffy
i was wondering what you guys thought. my favourite is bitter, but if everyone wants one of the others, i'll write that (or at least write that in addition) what do you guys think?
thanks for reading!
m-c