Anne Boleyn (
happyfalcon) wrote2015-11-08 11:22 pm
[For Thomas] [Modern AU] Secret Holiday
Anne was bustling about her apartment, assembling some clothes and getting her travel bags together. They had been planning a trip for some time now, but even so the destination was a surprise still to her. Thomas hadn't told her what the final destination plan was for them. Anne packed her clothes, planning for warm and cool weather. It was a little frustrating, not knowing that to pack exactly, but overall it was exciting.
She had slipped Thomas her key before she'd left the office that day. Anne had followed up on a lead for a story earlier in the day and took the rest of the day as personal time. Then she had come home and began packing.
Anne had a pair of dresses on the bed before her, and she couldn't decide which to take. It was silly to take them both with her. One was black with red patterned flowers, the other white with blue patterned flowers. But she no only had her clothes to pack, but she had jewelry and shoes to pack as well. Oh, it was so hard to pack, not knowing what destination for which they were bound.
But it was so romantic, and she was excited to get ready and going. Of course she had to wait for Thomas. She couldn't wait for him to arrive. Anne had picked up a bottle of wine to celebrate their holiday plans. It had been tricky, planning their getaway without anyone putting two and two together. Anne had vacation time saved up and gave the rest of her tasks to George for the time they'd be gone. She wasn't sure how Thomas had managed to get his time off to match hers, but somehow they'd done it.
She had slipped Thomas her key before she'd left the office that day. Anne had followed up on a lead for a story earlier in the day and took the rest of the day as personal time. Then she had come home and began packing.
Anne had a pair of dresses on the bed before her, and she couldn't decide which to take. It was silly to take them both with her. One was black with red patterned flowers, the other white with blue patterned flowers. But she no only had her clothes to pack, but she had jewelry and shoes to pack as well. Oh, it was so hard to pack, not knowing what destination for which they were bound.
But it was so romantic, and she was excited to get ready and going. Of course she had to wait for Thomas. She couldn't wait for him to arrive. Anne had picked up a bottle of wine to celebrate their holiday plans. It had been tricky, planning their getaway without anyone putting two and two together. Anne had vacation time saved up and gave the rest of her tasks to George for the time they'd be gone. She wasn't sure how Thomas had managed to get his time off to match hers, but somehow they'd done it.

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Anne considered his question and looked out on the river for a good long moment.
"I could have stayed, yes," she replied. "I didn't necessarily want to leave Paris. I didn't want to be under father's thumb again. In truth I'm not sure what brought me back. A promising job, perhaps."
She smiled as she looked up to him. Anne reached up to tuck one wayward dark curl behind her ear. "Or perhaps it was fate, bringing me to you."
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"Absolutely. You brought yourself to me. We should drink to that." Wyatt took one of the tiny champagne bottles and handed Anne the other so they could click them together.
"To French souvenirs. Be they made of silver," he started, thinking of the locket they saw, "or of red lips and dark hair."
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"To English classics," she added. "Chivalrous and full of romance and inspiration. Be they bound in books of leather, or of blonde curls and crystal-blue eyes."
She clinked her glass against his and took a slow sip. Once that was done, she leaned into him and brushed her lips over his, tasting the champagne on his lips. "I love you, you know."
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"I'm beginning to believe it. I love you so much," he replied quietly, not able to take his eyes off of hers for some time. Like so often with her, surroundings vanished, outside noise and interruptions seized to exist. Wyatt put down the bottle in order to give Anne a longer kiss.
"I wouldn't worry too much about you being under your father's thumb. You've managed to carve a little niche for yourself and proved that you're more than just another Boleyn at the office."
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"You think so? I hope so," she replied. "I would love to take over the business one day, but surely father will leave it to George."
But truly she wasn't interested in discussing work. She had her man, her poet, her Thomas. That was all she needed. Anne leaned in close, resting her head against his chest, sighing contentedly as she took in the scenery with the sound of his heartbeat in her ears.
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Especially when she cuddled close and made him feel wanted and important. Their relationship satisfied his longing for a true relationship where emotional and physical needs were met. He knew it would only get better once they were finally able to date out in the open.
Wyatt didn't wish to waste any time talking about work, either. He much rather listened to Anne's stories about her life in Paris and the places she wanted to show him. In return, he shared the progress of his latest writing projects. And so the picnic filled their bodies with good food and their minds with good conversation.
"Last one," Wyatt smiled and held up a tiny chocolate truffle. Anne's head was resting on his lap and his fingers were tangled among her long locks.
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It was a splendid afternoon - they were truly free here, able to openly discuss their dreams and plans for the future. The future that, at least for Anne, she planned on spending with Thomas. She could only hope and pray that he would get his divorce soon enough. Anne didn't blame him; it wasn't his fault that it was taking so long now - she didn't want to separate him from his son, at any rate either.
But now was not the time to focus on such things. Now was the time to bask in the present and the paradise they had found with one another.
Anne curled into Thomas a bit as she rested her head in his lap. The feeling of his fingers running through her hair made her sigh softly in delight. She could easily fall asleep this way. Her own fingers traced patterns along the seam of his jeans at his outer thigh. When he offered the truffle, her lips parted slowly and Anne took a bite. She licked the chocolate remnants slowly from her lips before pushing his wrist up to offer the remainder of the truffle back to him.
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"Park's getting crowded," Wyatt noted. A line of tourists had formed in front of the Eiffel Tower and a family with small children was blowing bubbles near them.
"Don't fall asleep," he chuckled, noticing Anne's dreamy expression. "You mind if I take pictures? Um, I mean, of us." Wyatt pulled out his phone. He didn't need pictures to remember this moment but all the same it would be nice to have a few. Eiffel in the background.
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She glanced up when he brought up the tourists. Anne smiled seeing the assembling people. But they didn't bother her - she had her man. Nothing in the world could spoil this for her now. When he brought up the phone and asked to take pictures, Anne smiled and sat up a bit.
"Mind? Of course not, in fact I insist!" she smiled and kissed his cheek, giving him the perfect opportunity to snap a photo. Only then did she lean in and kiss him on the lips, taking his lower lip between hers. Anne snuck her own phone out and took a picture, taking care to catch the Eiffel Tower in the background - it was a bit blurry, but satisfactory.
Memories, confirmation that they were here. Together, alone. Anne would want the pictures later for the hard days; for the days where they went extended periods of time without seeing one another. To prove to herself that this wasn't a dream, that they really had been here together.
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The mother of the family that was next to them spoke up suddenly. She offered to take a picture of them using Wyatt's phone and he agreed. "Look at me," he asked Anne, not wanting to pose for the camera but to have a picture where they lovingly looked at each other. This photo Wyatt then chose as the new screensaver for his phone.
"Shall we go?" He started gathering the wrappers and empty boxes from their picnic, for no way would he leave a mess behind. "Lots of secret alleyways yet to be explored."
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When the photo was taken Anne again thanked the woman and looked to inspect it. She rolled her eyes playfully when Thomas chose it as his screensaver. They would have to be careful about that when they eventually returned home.
She helped him collect the trash and wrappers from their picnic and found a trash can nearby which she promptly dumped the wrappings and bags into. She nodded in response and looped her arm with his. "Yes indeed - new and secret places to make our own, just for us."
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Across the river from the cathedral was a bookstore called Shakespeare & Company. Indeed, a shop specializing in English-language literature was found in the heart of Paris. Wyatt had been there before, and even though he had not come to France to find English books, he stopped to look at the window.
"It is often said how the French feel superior to the English and how they sneer at everything foreign, but the existence of this store seems to me a proof of the opposite. The French do value our writers," he said, keeping Anne snugly to his side. Secretly, Wyatt wanted to become one of those writers.
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When they came to the bookstore, Anne knew Thomas would want to linger. She leaned into him and smiled as he spoke.
He may have thought his desire secret, but to her it was plain as day. The way his eyes lit and sparkled as he looked upon the tomes in the window abs in the shelves inside, how could she not have known?
"Come, let's have a look inside, shall we?" She smiled, tugging him inside.
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Thousands of books both old and new, stacked in shelves from floor to ceiling greeted them as they stumbled into the store. Wyatt kissed Anne's fingers to apologize for the fact that he could no longer hold her hand.
"I won't take all day," he swore and headed for the poetry section. His trained eyes skimmed through the selection. Occasionally he picked up a book to weigh its value to him. Yes. No. Maybe.
He chuckled to find a little poem that fit the occasion, and walked back to Anne to whisper it over her shoulder.
"Oh, came you from the isles of Greece
Or from the banks of Seine;
Or off some tree in forests free,
Which fringe the western main?"
((From here: http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/charles_kingsley/poems/3763))
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"I came not off the old world
Nor yet from off the new—
But I am one of the birds of God
Which sing the whole night through," she replied without missing a beat. Of course she knew the poem, and was happy that she could repeat the line skillfully back to him.
She smiled up to him and more fly to face him, her own book held tight to her chest.
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"I guess I don't need this book when I have you." Snapping it closed, he looked down at the volume Anne held. He had seen a glimpse of it when he approached her.
"Mucha... Too bad he's not alive anymore. I'd commission him to paint you."
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When he mentioned commissioning Mucha to paint her, Anne smiled mischievously and kissed his cheek. She lingered to whisper in his ear. "Would I be posing nude for that painting, or would I be wearing some fine, slinky gown?"
She chuckled and set her own book back on the shelf as she awaited his answer.
"If you're not going to get that book," she tapped the volume he held. "Were there any that were of more interest to you?"
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As for the book, Wyatt shook his head. "No, I'm good. I have a book in my suitcase. If I need something else, a newspaper or a magazine will do the trick." After all, he loved reading in bed together with Anne.
"But... why don't you wait outside for me?" As of for no reason, Wyatt wrapped his free hand over Anne's shoulder in the hopes of steering her away from something he had just seen. "Okay? No peeking."
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When he guided her away from the particular direction, Anne raised a brow at him but smiled all the same. "A game is it? Very well."
She leaned up and kissed him, smirking softly at the taste of his lips. Her eyes flashed playfully as she pulled away. "No peeking," she agreed, and left the store to await Thomas.
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"Mademoiselle Boleyn! What a joy to run into you so unexpectedly," he distracted her by pretending they weren't together here. A secret was a secret. She'd learn about it later. Then he chuckled and took her hand.
"We should start heading slowly back to the hotel. I need to change to get into the restaurant I booked for us."
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"And just what are you up to, Thomas Wyatt?" She laughed softly as he took her hand. She laced her fingers with his and leaned into him a bit.
Dinner did sound good, and they had indeed had an eventful day thus far. Anne nodded in agreement and looked up to him. "Very well, slowly back to the hotel it is. But I know you're up to something, love. You can't fool me!"
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He had said they should return to the hotel but without Anne, it might never have happened. With the winding Paris streets, Wyatt wasn't at all sure they were even going to the right direction. If alone, he'd pick the first metro stop and let that be his guide.
"If you still want to stop somewhere, we can."
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It was easy for her to remember the way back to their hotel. A few times Thomas started going the wrong way, and she gripped his arm a bit tighter to reel him back in to follow her. It didn't take terribly long to get back, though Anne had looked at several shops along the way.
"I've no need - I've seen plenty of places today and shown you most of my favorite places," truly, if she were to show him all of her secret hideouts, they would need a good long week in Paris alone. She kissed his cheek again, happy and content to be able to be so open in their affection.
She would miss this, when the holiday was over.
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"We have all day tomorrow, and Monday morning to do last minute sightseeing before leaving for the vineyards," he reminded her at the hotel.
Last night they had missed dinner because changing clothes after the flight had made Wyatt want Anne more than food. This time he was determined to show more restraint. He pulled out a new white shirt and a black suit.
"Which one, to match your dress?" he asked, holding a few different ties in his hand.
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"The vineyards? My, my you are indeed spoiling me, Thomas Wyatt!" Anne smiled.
She stepped away from him to retrieve a new dress. The one she'd worn all day was a bit sweaty from clinging to her skin and had subtle grass stains in some places. Not that she minded, they would come out in proper wash. But it wasn't the best choice for dinner. She had a simple purple dress she could wear, and she pulled it from her suitcase to lay it flat on the bed.
Anne began to undress, discarding her jacket and clothes onto the floor beneath her, letting the fabric pool at her ankles until she was clad only in her bra and panties. She glanced up when Thomas asked of the ties, and playfully stepped towards him. Anne pouted her lips as she considered the colors, as though her being in her half-naked state were the most natural thing in the world.
"This one," she chose a wine-purple tie that was slightly lighter than her dress.
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