#SIMON CAN LITERALLY TAKE MY LEFT FUCKING KIDNEY AND I WOULD NOT CARE BECAUSE HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

[clownboymcchucklefuck]

Actually I don't think I've mentioned that I like Simon on this blog :/

#colored gaze #yandere vn #male yandere #yandere #visual novel #yandere visual novel #yandere male #BRO I WANNA MAKE OUT WITH HIM AND THEM CUDDLE AND THEN GET PUT IN A DANGEROUS SITUATION MAKING “IT” COME OUT AND THEN I WANNA MAKE OUT WITH #IT AND THEN I WANNA MMMMMMMMMMMM #You ever simp for somebody so hard you turn into a microwave #SIMON CAN LITERALLY TAKE MY LEFT FUCKING KIDNEY AND I WOULD NOT CARE BECAUSE HE IS THE LOVE OF MY LIFE #SIMON BABY PLEASE JUST ONE CHANCE IM BEGGING YOU PLEASE I AM BEGGING I AM ON MY KNEES RN #I CAN BEG IF HE WANTS ME TO BEG I JUST WANT TO MAKE OUT WITH HIM LIKE BRO SIMON I WILL GIVE YOU MY ESPHOUGAS FOR A HUG

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 40

We wound up staying at Diana’s until Sunday, then headed home to the chaos that awaited us. My gift for Tom had been well received, the shades of red he’d turned much like watching a tomato ripening in a time lapse video. We decide to wait until he was done filming to have our playtime, hoping things would be a smidge less stressful and that we’d actually have plenty of time to just fuck around. Literally, as the case happened to be. He’d given me a leather lingerie set, complete with crotch-less panties and a corset that I knew would turn my boobs into a squishy shelf…but the best part was the policeman-style cap, which I’d been wearing around the house to torment him.

Monday was spent in the office with Trudy, testing and testing and testing again, over and over, until any bugs we’d found were worked out. As far as we could discern, we were ready to roll. After the security company was done installing everything on Tuesday, it was time to go live with the group of 50 we’d chosen as beta testers. Luke, who’d left at noon with Simon to take care of the final wedding prep tasks, texted me more than two dozen times to express his amazement as he delved into Manageall’s features before, I assumed, Simon took his phone away from him. Radio silence ensued until midnight, when Simon came knocking at the door in a full blown panic because he wasn’t certain his shoes were the same shade of white as his suit. It took me more than an hour to convince him that they were, in fact, the same, and he wrapped me in a grateful embrace and finally left me to get some rest, Tom already in bed and snoring.

The office was officially closed for the next five days, so on Wednesday, when I wasn’t practicing singing, I pretended to not be working while I was actually working until it was time for the quiet dinner we’d planned at Luke and Simon’s. It was just the four of us, plus Roland, who was an absolute delight. We bonded over movies, music and tech and as we were leaving he gave me a tentative hug, blushing furiously afterward, Simon whispering in my ear shortly thereafter that it looked like SOMEONE had a quickly developed a wicked crush on me.  

New Year’s Eve dawned crisp and clear, and Simon and I took a late-afternoon cab ride to Searcys so we could check in and make sure everything was exactly as it should be. We entered the Gherkin, and he grabbed my hand as we got into the elevator, his skin clammy.

“This is happening. It’s happening. I can’t believe it. It’s incredible. I’m so…happy. Also, I’m pretty sure I’m dying.”

I laughed. “You’ll be fine. Everything’s going to be fine. Fine.”

His eyes narrowed. “If that was your attempt at assuaging my nerves…LAME. SO LAME.”

“You think you’re the only one with nerves? I cannot, for the life of me, get the last part of the song right. Because I am not Nina Simone. My scatting SUCKS. SO HARD.”

He released my hand in order to poke me in the shoulder. “I AM GETTING MARRIED AND YOU ARE COMPARING YOUR NERVES WITH MINE?”

“Actually I’m trying to distract you, asshat. Not working, is it?”

“No. Do you have any booze?”

The elevator doors opened, and as we stepped into the room he burst into tears. The round tables were all in place, forming a ring around the room with the center reserved for dancing, with an open spot on the far side of the room where the DJ had begun setting up. They were covered in charcoal grey cloths that matched the gentlemen of the wedding party’s suits, peppered with silver stars, glossy black circular Lucite slabs resting atop them. The centerpieces were twelve silver cylinders arranged in a ring, each with two white roses wound together in them, symbolizing midnight and two becoming one. Which was, you know, a totally minor detail that everyone would be too drunk to care about, but Simon had been so pleased with himself at coming up with the idea I knew he’d be pointing it out all evening and it was my duty as his maid of honor to fill in when he was too sloshed to speak any longer. The chairs, eight per table, were glossy black as well, the napkins gleaming white, the clear glassware and silver flatware smooth and unmarked. Above us was a net of white fairy lights that formed an artificial ceiling several feet below the pointed top of the room, and the floor was black stone, rectangular tiles shined to perfection, my reflection staring back at me when I glanced downward.

“Maude, Maude, it’s…it’s…I just…” He fanned his face with both hands. “Crying is bad. So bad. I can’t start off the evening looking like a puffy, splotchy nightmare.” Several deep, cleansing breaths later he was back in control, walking the room in search of imperfections. The sun had nearly set, and as we looked out the windows the city lights began to come on in quick succession, and the skyline was even more beautiful that it was during the daylight hours. As we drew closer to the DJ, the staff erected a rectangular table that would hold the cake and champagne fountain, the spot directly in front of it marked with an 18” silver star, indicating where the vow exchange was to take place. A voice sounded from behind us.

“A bit early, aren’t you, Simon?”

Turning around, I was stunned by the familiarity of the face in front of me. Her hair was dirty blonde, down past her shoulders, eyes a warm brown, smile welcoming and friendly. Dressed in loose black slacks and a black turtleneck paired with sensible black flats, I was tickled by the silver star-shaped earrings and chain belt she’s chosen to match the theme of the event. Around her neck was a black leather camera strap, the Nikon D5 it connected to in her right hand. Simon squeaked, then gave her a gentle hug, introducing us after pulling away.

“Maude Gallagher, meet Willa Morgan, high-end fashion photographer whom I suckered into shooting a wedding and now owe a huge favor that I will likely never be able to repay. Willa, meet Maude, Social Media Director for Prosper PR and my bestest friend whom I suckered into being my maid of honor which I’m sure she regrets and will hold against me for-ev-er.”

We both laughed, and I extended my left hand, which she shook firmly.

“Lovely to meet you, Maude.”

“Lovely to meet you as well, Willa.”

Her smile faded as she released me, replaced with a look of intense concentration. “Would you two mind standing on the star there so I can gauge some angles?”

We obliged, goofing around and pretending to make out while the poor woman attempted to do her job, eventually giving up on us, shaking her head as she laughed and set about acquiring shots of the rest of the set-up. I whispered in Simon’s ear as we moved to make room for the fountain assembly dolly.

“Um, is it just me or does Willa look EXACTLY like Brie Larson?”

He stared at her in the distance, then turned to me, eyes wide. “You know, I never thought about it before, but she really DOES. I wonder if I have a Doppelganger.” His nose crinkled as if he’d caught whiff of something vile. “Nah, there can’t be anyone out there as pretty as I am.”

It was going on six when we departed, waiting until every little thing was in place, right down to the wedding favors, which were silver mesh bags containing black and white M&Ms with Luke and Simon’s faces on them. I would never forget the day we texted about it, both of us rendered unable to correspond for at least ten minutes after Simon suggested having a special batch made up with dick pics on them for any guests who annoyed him.

Upon my return to our building I was thrown without pause into the chaos that surrounds any wedding party preparing for the celebration. I would be joined at Simon’s side by Roland and Phaedra, who was thrilled that she was so loved that she’d been included as a friend and wasn’t stuck sitting out as the mother of the groom. Luke had Tom, as well as Emma and Darren, his best mate from university. I hadn’t realized how close he and Emma were, but she and Tom had both followed him over to his own firm for personal reasons as well as professional ones. Emma and Phaedra’s dresses, both still hanging on the rack in the hall, were dove grey, with a halter-like top, almost a V-neck with the sleeves removed, leaving only a ribbon of fabric over each clavicle and connecting with the bodice, shoulders fully exposed. They were, in a way, the reverse of my dress. The waist was high, an under-slip of satin topped with translucent silky fabric flowing to ankle length. When I entered our flat my female cohorts were standing in the middle of the living room, clad in white terry-cloth robes, waiting for the make-up and hair team to ready their materials. Emma ran to embrace me.

“Maude! Hi hi hi! It’s been a bit, how are you? So great to see you!”

I squeezed her back, letting go and pulling away when one of the make-us-beautiful people thrust another white robe in my direction. “I’m good, how’s everything with you?”

Her nose scrunched, and she bit her bottom lip briefly. “Well, I’m starting to stress, if I’m honest. The benefit is seventeen days out and I’m still waiting on confirmation from people as to what songs…”

I interrupted her. “Aaaannndd I’m one of those people. Shit. Sorry. Gonna speak for Simon too, because he’ll never remember to tell you. I’m doing ‘Before I’m Dead’ by the Kidney Thieves, Simon’s doing Nirvana’s ‘Heart Shaped Box’ and together we’re attempting ‘Crystalized’ by the xx. Here, I’ll text you that right now. Do you need the durations? I can send you the files too if you want.”

She brushed the side of her hand across her forehead. “Phew. Thanks, that’s one down. Please, do send the files if you have them. I’ll check the length myself. And thank you for being willing to do it…I feel so blessed to be surrounded by such generous people. Ohhh…by the way, I’ve seen the app and it is INCREDIBLE. Can’t wait to use it...” She sighed as one of the hairdressers called her name, then smiled. “Oh well. We’ll get to chat in the car on the way, I’m sure.”

A snort escaped me as I typed out a message for her. “Like Simon’s going to let any of us get a word in edgewise.”

We both laughed, and Phaedra looked up from her own phone, waving as I headed to the bathroom to undress. Once my robe was safely secured over my nakedness, I opened the door to find one Thomas William Hiddleston standing five feet away, already dressed for the evening in his charcoal grey suit, white shirt, silver tie, cummerbund and pocket square. He smiled, and I first melted at the sheer beauty of him, then had a mild panic attack when I realized that the six months until I’d see him dressed for our wedding seemed both like a second and an eternity all at once.

He waved. “Hi.”

I waved back. “Hi. You look like…like…like you should come on over here and kiss me.”

His head shook from side to side, slowly. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Is it?”

He nodded. “Yes. Because I know what’s under that robe. And if I get any closer…”

Raising my hands up near my ears carefully, I began to move backwards into the bathroom. “Right. Okay. Yep. But you know the dress is kinda…worse…”

He saluted, body tensing visibly. “Well I’m off then. Love you.”

“Love you too. One word. Pasties.”

His response was but a muffled groan as he strode quickly into the hall. I was whisked away to a director’s chair, where Marcus sung the praises of my hair and tamed it enough so it could be left down and loose. Emma’s had been pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck, Phaedra’s braided and wound around her head, creating a band of sorts. They were both in the middle of a pre-makeup facial, which I had no interest in receiving but quickly discovered wasn’t optional. After I was deemed clean, fresh and acceptable, foundation was applied, then silver crème and smoky grey shadow, black winged liner, and black mascara. My lips took the longest, first lined with a deep, dark red, then carefully painted blood red, and finally coated with a several layers of silver glitter gloss.  I stood and stretched, arms straight up over my head, sighing softly as I lowered them back to my sides. An older woman approached me, black hair, rail thin, dressed in pink yoga pants and a black and white fitted T-shirt with a giant Hello Kitty on the front. There was a large brown satchel over her shoulder, and a garment bag slung over her outstretched arm. She smiled beatifically.

“Hello, Maude. I’m Gillian. Ready for your dress?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Thank you. Where would you like me?”

Her steel-blue eyes narrowed for a moment. “Well, we’ll need a private space, unless you don’t mind…”

My left hand shot up to shoulder height, palm toward her. “I’ve managed to make it this far without anyone in the room seeing my boobs…let’s keep the streak alive and head up to the master bedroom, if that works for you.”

She nodded, and I led the way, allowing her to enter the space first, then followed, closing the door behind us.

“Lovely flat you have here, Maude.” She placed the garment bag on the bed, ever so gently, and the utter weirdness of having a stranger in a place where so much intimacy happened made me cringe. Just a little, but still…a cringe. Gillian set her satchel on the chair and began rummaging through it, pulling out a small package and a bottle of what I knew had to be body glue. She looked around, pointing toward the bathroom.

“Probably best if we apply the pasties in there…oh, I almost forgot…” Her hand delved back into her bag, neon pink nails seeming to flash as she moved. “Ah, here they are. I have panty options for you as well, in case you need them.”

“Thank you, Gillian. I think I do need them…all my stuff is either dark or patterned.”

She walked into the bathroom, hot-pink Mary Janes clicking on the floor, and I followed. She spread everything out on the countertop…first came the half dozen pasties, all different shades, but all circular with a silver star that matched the dress perfectly in the center. Next to them she plopped a pile of fabric, the details as yet indiscernible, but there was a variation of tone there as well.

Her hands clapped together. “All right then…set your robe aside and we’ll get to work, if you please.”

I undid the tie, let the front hang open, then pulled my arms back through the sleeves and let it fall to the floor. She looked me up and down.

“Oh good, I believe I’ve gotten your sizing just right. And, you wax. Thank the lord for small favors.” I could feel my right brow rise against my will. She laughed. “No shade intended, but gals who prefer the au naturel look make it a bit harder for me to conceal the works without them wearing boxer briefs. With the style dress you have, it has a tendency to ruin the illusion, if you know what I mean.”

“I understand completely.”

She sifted through the pile and held up something that could only be described as a high-waisted thong. I took a moment to consider whether or not I was okay with my ass cheeks hanging out, then quickly shook my head. Next was a simple brief, and I nodded.

“Excellent choice. They’re form fitting and will be rather snug, which should be just fine with your shape. I don’t see much chance of spill-over happening. Now, let’s see which tone matches your skin best.”

Once that decision was made, I put them on…and she wasn’t kidding about the snugness. They were, like, snug to the tenth power snug. But, just as she thought, the band sat right at my waist and thus, there was no muffin-top to be found. She walked around me, checking out the rear view, nodding as she circled back to my front.

“Perfect. They match so well it looks like you aren’t wearing a blessed thing.”

The pasties came next, in the same shade. I stayed behind when she left the room, figuring peeing before putting on the dress was better than going afterward, because with my luck I’d dip it in the bowl and this way I’d at least make it to Searcys in decent shape. Probably. Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the way back to the bedroom, I decided I most closely resembled an extra from the Rocky Horror Picture Show, which started me singing the Time Warp under my breath. Gillian was cautiously removing my dress from its bag, and when she lifted her head to smirk at me I knew she’d heard me.

“Oh, that’s a classic, Maude. Well done. You should request it tonight.”

I chuckled. “That is an excellent idea. What’s a wedding without a good pelvic thrust session?”

We both laughed as I stepped into the dress, then slowly worked my arms into the sleeves. Gillian zipped me up, inhaling sharply as she walked round to my front.

“Gorgeous. My word. Futuristic, yet ethereal. Stunning.”

I walked over to the bedroom mirror to take a look, my reflection’s jaw dropping open. The transformative power of a bit of makeup and some fabric never ceased to amaze me.

“Wow, it really DOES look like I’m totally naked. Great job matching the tones, Gillian. Perfection.”

She’d begun gathering her things, stuffing them all unceremoniously back into the satchel. “Thank you kindly. Do you need help with your shoes?”

“Well…probably not…but if you have time…”

She nodded and retrieved them from their box on the dresser. They bore some resemblance to dance shoes, with a two and a half inch spike heel and thick sole in the rounded toe area, two half-inch straps across the top, thoroughly coated in large pieces of silver glitter that matched the stars on my dress perfectly. I remained standing with one hand on the bedpost to maintain my balance as she slipped them on and secured the straps.

“There you are, then. Take a few steps and make sure the straps aren’t too tight.”

I did, heels clicking on the floor, then turned back to her. “Just right. Danceable, even. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Let’s get you downstairs….it’s just about nine and the car needs to be en route by ten after at the latest. New Year’s Eve traffic is hellish, I assure you.”

Phaedra and Emma were waiting in the living room, and they applauded as I descended, both unable to resist the urge to fondle the fabric when I reached them. Emma’s eyes widened when she realized that I didn’t have a full netting underneath, as most sane people would.

“Maude, my lord, those…are those…the stars on your…”

Nodding, I reached out and patted her on the shoulder. “My boobs. Yes. Pasties.” She blushed, and Phaedra sighed.

“Oh, how I miss having breasts that don’t point directly at the floor. Enjoy them, girls, while you still can. The day will come when you have to be cautious lest you light them on fire whilst preparing a meal.”

Emma’s blush deepened. “Phaedrea, oh my god. You’re horrid.”

I did my best to suppress my laughter, but to no avail, and Phaedra joined in. “I speak the truth, Emma. It’s your future. Best embrace it.”

We were interrupted by Simon shouting as he traipsed through the open door.

“LADIES. OUR CARRIAGE HAS ARRIVED. WE MUST LEAVE AT ONCE FOR THE BALL.”

He stood by the kitchen counter, waiting, and I shook my head, incredulous at how absolutely perfect he appeared. Like he’d sprung up from the pages of an elite fashion magazine, his blonde hair slicked back, white suit practically glowing, and when he smiled, I damn near lost my shit.

“Dude. Simon. Dude. Seriously. My god. You’re like an…you look like…like…like an ANGEL. I mean, I know you’re NOT because, reasons, but WOW.”

Four steps forward brought him to me, and he kissed both my cheeks, then took my hands as he leaned back to inspect my attire. “You’re looking rather heaven-sent yourself, Maudie. And thank you. I do look damn fine, don’t I?” He kissed Emma and Phaedra next, expressing his appreciation for their beauty as well, and then we were out the door and down the stairs. Since the ceremony wasn’t until midnight there was no way to hide Luke and Simon from each other, so we’d decided to all share a single stretch limousine. Tom’s expression as he watched me approach him stirred up a slew of emotions in me, running the gamut from mild embarrassment to blatant desire, his unwavering stare seeming to bore right through the little I was wearing. As I drew closer his eyes filled with tears, his jaw unclenching as he smiled and reached for my hand.

“You. Are. So. Beautiful.”

I took hold of him, leaning in to catch his scent as we neared the limo.

“Oh good god, you’re wearing that new cologne again. That little hint of sandalwood mixed with orange…how am I supposed to LIVE?” He chuckled. “And thank you. You’re beautiful too, babe.”

He kissed my cheek as he helped me climb inside. “It’s going to be a long, long night, isn’t it?”

I nodded as I slid over next to Phaedra to make room for him just as Simon cracked open the first bottle of champagne.

“Oh yeah. I hope you have your phone, because I need to capture all this insanity so I can show it to their kids twenty years from now. Preferably right after they give them a lecture about how partying is so very, very inappropriate and bad for them.”

***************************************

It was five after ten when we arrived at Searcys, and the elevator ride up was unusually quiet, Simon and Luke clinging to each other and nervously adjusting each other’s lapels and white rose boutonnieres. Phaedra, Emma and I wore wrist corsages comprised of black netting and two intertwined white roses secured with silver ribbon, for which I was grateful. Schlepping around flowers and trying to have a good time while keeping them looking decent sounded like a total drag. Tom and I held hands, loosely, purely for the purpose of maintaining a physical connection. My nerves were still ever present, despite the fact that I’d sung in front of groups larger than this in the past. To be fair, I’d been intoxicated for most of those shows, though. Tonight, I’d try to lose myself in tasty tidbits and pretend that it was just a friendly karaoke bar, not someone’s once-in-a-lifetime moment. The doors slid open, and there we were, walking into a space that was positively overflowing with love for two people who deserved every single drop of it.

We were whisked away for photos, Willa directing us around the room, deciding who would be in which shots, carefully selecting the perfect backdrops. Once she was through with us, the hors d'oeuvres

stopped circulating and it was time for the seven course sit-down meal to begin. The wedding party was seated closest to the windows on the left side of the room, set back a few feet from the others. It was odd, eating prior to a ceremony, a backwards wedding of sorts, but the food was ridiculously delicious and the company unparalled so time seemed to speed on by. A sorbet was served as a palate cleanser after the main course, and at quarter to midnight we rose from our spots and retreated back toward the entrance where the hair and makeup folks were waiting behind oriental-style screens. Luke and Simon had timed their vows to last for five minutes, so the refresh was brief, followed by us all taking our places for the walk across the dance floor to the silver star marker. Phaedra and Darren walked first, followed by Roland and Emma, then Tom and me. Once we were on the proper sides, the wedding march began, and I had to bite my lip really, really hard so I wouldn’t weep at the sight of Luke and Simon walking towards us, hand in hand, their love for each other so clearly visible in their eyes, their expressions so joyful it was almost painful. They took their places on the star, Willa shooting discreetly yet furiously the entire time, and the officiant began. I missed most of that, only tuning in fully when the vow exchange began. Luke went first, his hand shaking as his right reached out for Simon’s left. His voice was clear, deep, and strong.

“Simon, that day you turned up for an interview…I thought that was the best day of my life. But it wasn’t, actually, because every day since that day has been the best day of my life. You’ve reminded me that there’s so much more to life than striving toward the next slot in the chain of financial success, shown me that joy can be found in even the smallest and bleakest moments. And, you’ve improved my wardrobe in ways I never could have imagined.”

Everyone laughed, and Simon reached up to pat Luke’s cheek.

“Over and above all that, you’ve taught me how to love, and how to love unconditionally. You are the man I dreamt of but never thought I’d ever find. My lover, my friend. It’s my honor to have you as my husband, and to be yours. From this day forward, it’s us, together, always. I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Luke Windsor, do take thee, Simon Ahlberg, to be my lawful wedded husband. Will you accept this ring as a symbol of my commitment to you, to us?”

Simon’s voice broke as he answered. “Yes. I, Simon Ahlberg, take thee, Luke Windsor to be my wedded husband.” Luke slipped the platinum band onto his ring finger, then released him. Simon’s right hand reached out to take Luke’s left, and one incredibly deep breath later he began to speak.

“Luke. That day, when I walked into your office, I was on a mission. A mission to fundamentally change the way I was living. I was burnt out, used up, and in search of something new, something different, something that would inspire me, something that would make me wake up every morning excited and full of wonder. I thought that something would be an occupation, because that’s what filled my life before, but it turned out to be…you. Especially the waking up excited part.” Snickers and guffaws rose up around the room. “It was YOU. And I am the luckiest man, not only on Earth, but in the vastness of the universe, because I have you. Because you love me. ME! It’s ridiculously cliché, but Luke, you make me want to be a better man…and it’s my honor and privilege to share your life from this day forward as your husband. I call upon these persons here present to witness that I, Simon Ahlberg, do take thee, Luke Windsor, to be my lawful wedded husband. Will you accept this ring as a symbol of my commitment to you, to us?”

Both of their faces were damp with tears, and Luke swallowed hard twice before he responded. “Yes. Yes, yes, YES. I, Luke Windsor, take thee, Simon Ahlberg to be my wedded husband.”

Simon gently slid the platinum band, a twin of the one he now wore, onto Luke’s ring finger, then reached out to grasp Luke’s right hand with his left. The DJ began the ten second countdown to midnight, and the officiant spoke.

“Let it be known that these two men before me, and before all persons present, have, through their vows, declared themselves bound in matrimony. Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you…the Windsor-Ahlbergs!”

With that the clock struck midnight, Simon and Luke kissed, and congratulatory cheers mixed with shouts of ‘Happy New Year’ rang out. Tom was in front of me before the DJ could even begin to play Auld Lang Syne, his hands on the sides of my face as he bent so we were eye to eye.

“This is it. 2016. Soon enough, we’ll be saying our own vows, exchanging rings and I…I…I’m so in love with you, Maude. Happy New Year.”

His lips met mine, his hands wound around my waist, and mine around his, as we swayed to the music and I realized that I’d honestly never fully comprehended what it was supposed to mean, that New Year’s midnight kiss. Because any I’d ever received before hadn’t meant anything to me when compared to the way I felt right then, in that moment. We broke the kiss as the song ended, and the DJ’s voice boomed loudly through the sound system’s speakers.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR PEOPLE!” A round of cheering broke out again, and the DJ laughed. “All right, all right, you’re excited. Before we party, two things to take care of…the cutting of the cake by our happy couple, and…their first dance. We’re going to do the dance first, because you know someone’s going to get cake smeared all over them and that’s not a good look for the photo album, now is it? Luke and Simon have chosen ‘Feeling Good’ as their wedding song, and it will be performed by none other than maid-of-honor MAUDE GALLAGHER. Give the lady a hand!”

The applause was ridiculously loud, and I looked up at Tom, shouting over the din. “Happy New Year, you beautiful man. I love you. I’m probably going to die of embarrassment when I get to the scatting part, but…I love you.”

He kissed my forehead as he released me. “You’ll be amazing. Go. Do it. I’ll be right here, falling for you all over again.”

My head tilted to the left, mouth open, eyes narrowed. “Dude. I can’t even with you.” I planted a quick kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.” And then, a microphone magically appeared in my hand, and there I was, standing on that silver star, with Luke and Simon staring at me from the center of the dance floor. And so I dove into the first verse acapella, the way Nina Simone had done it all those years ago.

Birds flyin' high, you know how I feel Sun in the sky, you know how I feel Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me. Yeah, it's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me, ooooooooh... And I'm feelin' good. Fish in the sea, you know how I feel River runnin' free, you know how I feel Blossom on the tree, you know how I feel It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me, And I'm feelin' good Dragonfly out in the sun, you know what I mean, don't you know, Butterflies all havin' fun, you know what I mean. Sleep in peace when day is done: that's what I mean, And this old world is a new world and a bold world for me... Stars when you shine, you know how I feel Scent of the pine, you know how I feel Yeah, freedom is mine, and I know how I feel.. It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me And I'm feelin'... good.

The scatting was actually decent, and I knew that what I’d just completed was a personal best for me as far as performances went, and would probably turn out to be the best performance of my life. And it had little to do with me, at all. It was because of the two people running toward me, embracing me, and the love they had for each other that had set them free. And I knew how that felt, and that’s what poured up out of my soul, what powered my voice as I sang those words. Tom joined the group hug, then pulled me away from Simon and Luke.

“My god, that was incredible. You…I just…wow. Wow. Speechless.”

I grinned and pinched his cheek. “Oh, speechless. The best compliment Tom Hiddleston can possibly pay.”

He laughed, and the DJ announced that the time had come for cake chaos. Simon went first, and I was stunned when he held the piece steady and allowed Luke to take a dainty, mess-free bite. Luke’s full on face-smooshing smear fest when it was his turn was equally surprising…and insanely adorable, especially when he tried to help wipe it off and Simon kissed him instead. I turned to Tom.

“Two things. One, if you try to do that to me I’m going to bite your hand off and two, this is all so precious and perfect that I may soon vomit. Will cake help, do you think?”

He nodded. “Cake always helps. And then, dancing?”

“Yes. Cake. Dancing. More cake. More dancing. Repeat as necessary until the paramedics show up to treat either my sugar overdose or painful bodily injury.”

And that’s exactly what we did, until 4 AM rolled around and we staggered to the elevator, then out to the waiting car. Simon and Luke had taken their own to a nearby hotel, where they’d stay until late afternoon tomorrow, when they’d be boarding a plane to enjoy their five day honeymoon in Greece. Phaedra had agreed to see Roland home, and shared a car with Emma and Darren as they were all headed in the same direction, which left Tom and I to our own devices. He wasn’t blotto drunk, but drunk enough to be a terror as far as propriety was concerned, fingers running up and down the V front of my dress, caressing my exposed skin, hand slipping under the fabric to cup my right breast, letting out a frustrated groan because my nipple was hidden beneath the pastie. There was no privacy screen, and I gave up caring that the driver might see, or that he might crash while staring at our antics, instead pulling Tom into a kiss, his mouth tasting of whiskey and ale. Making out was enough of a distraction to get us home without actually exposing ourselves, and when we arrived he ran up the stairs to our flat, taking them two at a time, waited for me for ten seconds, then ran back down, then back up, over and over until I managed to successfully navigate my way to the landing in my stupid heels. His hands were shaking so badly he couldn’t get the key in the door, so I took over, and he pushed me inside as it opened, turned me left into the kitchen, then pressed me up against the counter overlooking the living room. I felt his hands lifting my dress, then on my lower back as he guided me to lean forward. Next were his thumbs inside the waistband of my underwear, rolling them down to my ankles. I heard him unzip, and I moved my legs as far apart as they could go, groaning as the head of him brushed against me before he thrust himself forward and home. It was quick and dirty, his hips rolling as his cock worked its way in and out, faster and faster until I came with a gasp and he followed, whimpering softly, then collapsing on top of me. Several minutes passed and just as I began to entertain the thought that he was out cold he whispered in my ear, voice lacking its usual resonance.

“I’m so sleepy. Will you tuck me in?”

“Yep. You’ve gotta get off me first, though.”

“Ohhhh. That’s right. I’m sorry.” I felt his weight lifting, then disappearing completely. I turned around to find him staring at me, eyes moist. “You’re beautiful.”

I snorted, then bent to remove my shoes so I could slip out of my underwear. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

He turned me around slowly, unzipped my dress, then slid it off my shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor. I rotated to face him, and he pulled me into an embrace and nuzzled my neck.

“Wife.”

“Soon.”

“Since I saw you.”

I inhaled sharply. “Thomas.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too, baby. Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

“M’kay.”

I made him go first, just in case. Not that I’d have been able to catch him if anything happened, but it made me feel better. I helped him undress, then tucked him in, as requested, kissing him goodnight before I headed off to shower. The pasties came off rather quickly, the makeup, not so much. Especially the glitter gloss, which made me grateful I didn’t have to deal with such shit on a daily basis. I toweled off, used the toilet one last time, then crawled in next to Tom. He rolled over, muttering something I couldn’t quite decipher as he wrapped his arm around me, hand cupping my breast. My eyes closed as his warmth enveloped me, and I dozed off trying to count how many days remained until June 29th.

****************************************

We spent the weekend recovering, just the two of us, heading out for food periodically but otherwise just enjoying…being. Time felt like the enemy, and even though I tried to ignore it, my brain kept counting of the days we had left before his flight to Australia. Monday I was back in the office, working on marketing materials for the app and testing the customer management systems with Trudy. The rest of the staff picked up any slack left by Luke and Simon’s absence, their duties relatively minimal as our client base had been made aware of the wedding and honeymoon schedule well in advance. Tuesday and Wednesday were more of the same, with the additional tasks of contacting all the beta testers to request their reviews and creating an instructional video to post on the main website. Thursday was freak-out day, as it was my last official day of work prior to launch, and the last night I’d be sharing a bed with Tom for more than two weeks. Seventeen days, to be precise.

Dinner was delivery pizza, followed by ice cream sundaes for dessert. Afterward, I helped him pack, and the strangeness of assisting the person I had grown so used to and loved having so close to me prepare to be so far away melted my brain a little. We showered, then attempted to sleep, but spent most of the night making love or simply staring at each other, as if committing as much detail as we could to memory so we’d have it as a touchstone while we were apart.

Friday morning we were out the door and into a waiting cab by ten AM in order to arrive at Heathrow in plenty of time for his twelve forty-five PM flight. It would be a long one, twenty-five hours at minimum, during which I hoped he’d get some rest. Brisbane awaited, and there’d be staff housing as well as opportunities to visit the Hemsworths in Byron Bay. Jordan had chosen the Gold Coast to film, Queensland offering savannah-like settings as well as a tropical rainforest.

Both of us were silent on the ride, holding hands, his thumb rubbing my wrist. We’d agreed to say our goodbyes just inside the main entrance, with me then returning to the cab and heading home while he checked in and went through security. The cab driver helped unload his baggage, then drove off to circle around until our paths coincided again, at which point he’d pick me up.

I felt like I was going to puke at the sight of the gates, which made me wonder if this was going to become a ‘thing’…me stress-barfing at airports. Tom set the backpack he’d slung over his shoulder on the floor next to the rest of his luggage, then turned to me.

“Well. Guess this is it, then.” He ran one hand through is hair. “Not sure I can do this, Maude.”

I reached out to touch his arm, reveling in the feel of his long blue coat. “Yes you can. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. Seventeen days and you’ll be picking my ass up in Brisbane. No big deal.” His hand caressed my cheek, and I burst into tears. “Shit. I told myself I wasn’t going to cry, and now I’m crying. Epic fail. I’m sorry.”

He pulled me into his arms, one hand on the back of my head pressing me to his chest. “Don’t you be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m the one who has to leave.”

I leaned backwards so I could see his face, noticing that he was trying to hold back his own tears but was losing the battle, one already spilling over and running down his cheek. “No, I am. I’m the one who has to STAY.”

We clung to each other, weeping quietly, until we both breathed deeply, knowing it was time to let go, whether we liked it or not. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand. “All right. I need to get the fuck out of here before I wind up throwing myself on the floor and wrapping my arms around your leg like a ball and chain.”

He laughed, then bent to kiss me…long, slow, deliberate and full of everything we couldn’t say. He broke away first, taking my hands in his.

“I am going to miss you like I’ve never missed anything ever before in my life. But we’ll text, we’ll call, we’ll Skype, and I’ll be busy and you’ll be busy and the days will pass and you’ll be back in my arms again in the blink of an eye.”

I nodded and let go of his hands. “It’ll all be okay. I know. You know. It doesn’t make it suck any less, but it’ll be okay. Stay safe, Hiddleston. I love you. Heart and soul.”

He smiled, red-rimmed eyes displaying a glimmer of hope, and joy. “I love you too, Maude. Heart and soul. I’ll see you soon. Good luck with the launch, and the show.”

“Tell Kong I said hello. And, you know, everyone else, too.”

“I shall.”

With that, he gathered up his luggage, returned the backpack to his shoulder, then turned away from me and began to walk down the hall. I waited for a moment, staring at him, and he spun around quickly, waved, then turned back around and kept going, and I turned myself and half-jogged out to the curb, choking back seemingly endless sobs as I waited for the cab that would bring me back to our flat. Our flat, with just me in it. Alone.

#your light in the mist #chapter 40