happyfalcon | [For Thomas] [Modern AU] Secret Holiday

[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.

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"I love you for making an effort for Junior," he replied with a soft look in his eyes. "And I'm just happy you let me spoil you."

Deep down he wasn't quite so confident. His son wasn't a problem child but having to get used to a step-mom might unearth behaviour that Wyatt had not witnessed before. Junior could rebel against the new living arrangements and he could pretend to dislike Anne, simply out of loyalty to his own mother.

But that discussion wasn't on the plate today. They had time to talk about all of that heavy stuff later. This was supposed to be a romantic night. After the soup they enjoyed a good main course and salad; for Wyatt it was a rack of lamb with string beans, heavy with fresh herbs.

"Do you wish to go anywhere afterwards? Dancing maybe? Or should we just head back to the hotel?"

Edited 2016-09-22 21:50 (UTC)

Anne smiled and gave him a softly chiding look. "Of course I make an effort for him. He's your son, he's important to you - thus he's important to me."

She constantly feared though that he wouldn't like her in the future. No one knew what the future held for them. Junior could indeed rebel against her, and in that case, Anne would have no idea what to do. Junior wasn't her child; she had no right to discipline him. But she didn't anticipate needing to do so. Anne figured that Junior was a good kid, and that it wouldn't come to that.

Besides, she was more focused on being in the moment and enjoying this wonderful vacation Thomas had set up. She considered his question and smiled after a moment.

"I'd like to go dancing - just for a little while," she was tired from their long day. "We can go to the hotel after, if that's all right with you? We don't need to stay out long."

"Whatever you're up to, love. I didn't mean a noisy club but something like a quiet restaurant with a singer or a live band. It'd be nice if they had that here but they don't." Wyatt looked around. This restaurant wasn't big enough to have a dance floor.

"I long to hold you close when you look as lovely as you do now. Not that we can't dance in our hotel room if it comes to that but since nobody in Paris cares who we are... We should take the opportunity to do all the things we can't yet do in London."

When they went out clubbing with friends, there were always slow songs, too, but Wyatt couldn't dance them only with Anne. He felt as his duty to dance with other women as well, to balance it out. Even when they danced together, it had to look impersonal which put a damper on things.

"Agreed - we can go back to the loud clubs when we're home," she smiled. She preferred something more classy now; they were in Paris, after all.

She absolutely agreed that they should partake of the public romantic scenes while they were free to do so. "Soon enough we will be back to sharing such private, romantic acts in the privacy of the home, let's take advantage of being free and open with each other in public while we can."

Anne never liked it in the clubs when the slow songs came on and he danced with other women - but she knew deep down he only did it to protect her; to protect them both. George and Mary were usually with them when they went clubbing, so they couldn't afford having one of them catch wise to what they were doing.

But they didn't need to worry about that here. The main entree was brought out soon enough, and Anne ate slowly, but eagerly. The food in France was always prepared with a passion and love that was rarely replicated elsewhere.

After a long day walking outside, it was wonderful to relax and be served a good meal in a quiet atmosphere, without a care in the world. To know that their relationship had just taken a step forward with plans to move in together made everything better for Wyatt.

"You know how you keep saying I spoil you but honestly, I'm doing this for myself as much as for you. Writing is lonely and though I enjoy it, I crave for company on other times. I don't want to see the world on my own. I don't want to sit in a restaurant alone, nor look at sights by myself."

He lowered his fork on the plate and took a sip of wine. "I teach my son about the importance of sharing because I believe it."

Anne finished off her entree and smiled as he continued to speak. She smiled, recalling every time that she had come home to find him working diligently on his writing.

"Your writing is indeed wonderful," she praised him. "But you're right, it does seem solitary. How many times have I come home and asked you questions only to have them go unanswered while you worked on a particular passage?" she chuckled.

Anne didn't mind when that happened. It meant he was focused, and when he focused, his blue eyes seemed to light up and his brow furrowed in the most adorable manner.

"You're an ideal father," she praised, again reaching to squeeze his hand.

"I apologize," he whispered with a faint regret in his voice. Even if Anne had never complained, it didn't mean his behaviour was always commendable.

"I don't mean to take you for granted. I appreciate each and every time you let me finish the sentence or the chapter I'm working on." She had learned to sense when he was approachable. He didn't mind if she then came to sit beside him and put her legs across his lap, for when he was finished, his attention turned to her and her alone. Exchanging the day's news while cuddling on her couch was something he'd come to look forward to.

"Well, I try. I make mistakes but now that he's old enough to express his wants and needs with intelligible words, it's so much easier. Everything's hit and miss, and a test drive, with the first kid."

He squeezed her hand in return. "You'll see."

((ooc: Sorry again for taking so long on this! I didn't get a notification in my inbox :( ))

Anne tilted her head and smiled. "No need to apologize," she assured him. "You're not taking me for granted. You're focused, and I enjoy seeing you so hard at work on something you love."

When he teased her over a first child, Anne tilted a brow at him. She laughed softly and shook her head. "Perhaps."

Soon enough they finished their meals and enjoyed a night of dancing at a nearby dance hall. Then they started on their way back to the hotel. Anne laced her fingers with his as they continued on their way. She leaned into Thomas and nuzzled his shoulder. "I love you." she smiled up at him.

((ooc: Don't worry about it!))

The meal had been wonderful from the first bite to the last crumb of the dessert and they still had a light enough step to do some dancing. The night had fallen. It was time to head back to the hotel and unwind after a long day.

Wyatt chuckled. "I love you, too. More than you know." Once inside their room, Anne could see one long-stemmed rose in pale pink color placed on the bed. Wyatt had ordered that to be delivered.

He took a deep breath and hugged her. "Thank you for a nice day."

Anne kept leaning into him as they walked. When he hugged her, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed softly along his jaw. "I should be thanking you, after all, you made most of the arrangements."

Anne walked slowly to the hotel room and stepped inside. When she glanced up she saw the pale pink rose on the bed.

"What's this?" She steeped up and picked up the rose, bringing it to her nose and Smelling its sweet scent. She glanced up to Thomas and smiled broadly. "Did you do this?"

"I might have something to do with it." Wyatt hung his jacket near the door before walking up to her again. Tilting his head and smiling softly, he smelled the rose as well.

"Hmm... I realized I didn't know your favourite flower but a rose is a classic, yes? With so many different colours to choose from, I was nervous to take a pick," he confessed.

"But there's something else. Something that I didn't have or even know I'd want before today," Wyatt gave a hint of his mysterious purchase at the book store. He brushed his lips over hers and went to get a narrow, flat package from the inside pocket of the jacket he wore during the day. He held it so that Anne couldn't see right away what it was.

He kicked off his shoes and sat crosslegged on the bed. "Come, my love."

Anne smiled as she kissed his cheek when he came close enough. "For the record, I enjoy lilies best, but any flower from you is more precious than even the rarest gem."

Anne tilted her head when he spoke again. She recalled how he had lingered at the store earlier and wondered what he might have picked out. Anne kicked off her high heels and approached him slowly. She sat down beside him, lounging upon the bed and leaning against him.

"Just what are you up to, Thomas Wyatt?" She smiled, bringing her hand up to rest along his thigh.

Wyatt stored the information in a safe place in his mind; next time he'd know to buy lilies. Even if he thought Anne and roses went together perfectly.

"Ah, this is all your fault, Anne Boleyn," he replied cheekily. "I had thought the rose would be a romantic little touch for our night but you provided me with a more personal idea today."

He turned the little package for her to see now. It was a black feather pen with a gold tip. Wyatt took it out of its cardboard and cellophane case.

"It's not an actual quill, unfortunately, but then we're not two lovers in Renaissance era, either," he smiled.

The pen was quite clearly not very expensive and most likely it wouldn't last long. One could write a letter or two with it before the ink ran out. But it would do just fine for the purposes he intended it, and that was to write a poem on her back using the soft end of it.

Anne enjoyed roses, but she felt that roses were so typical of any woman who loved romance. Besides, she had always been in love with the lilies outside the palace of Versailles. White lily, tiger lily, spider lily - Anne loved them all. She was known for wearing red spider lilies in her hair on special occasions like weddings. But Thomas of course had no way of knowing this.

When he produced the package, Anne tilted her head - too big for a ring, and not shaped quite right for a necklace or bracelet. When he opened it for her to see the contents, Anne had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

It suited him. A black feather pen for her poet. It wasn't what she had expected at all, but it suited him so perfectly.

"It's lovely, Thomas," Anne smiled, chuckling slightly. "And it's so totally you. But I'm curious - how is this pen a romantic touch?" She wasn't sure what he had in mind to do with it.

((ooc: Just in case you did forget, they talked about this earlier in the day: http://happyfalcon.dreamwidth.org/3564.html?thread=227820#cmt227820 ))

"Mademoiselle, I am wounded!" Wyatt feigned hurt, grumbling softly. "Have I spoiled you so thoroughly that you can't remember your own words from this morning?"

He touched her cheek with the feather and let it ghost down her arm. Smiling, he looked up to see what she thought of it.

"If you allow, I wish to compose a poem on your back."

((ooc: Thanks for the reminder, it did indeed slip my mind!))

They had done so much already that day alone, Anne had almost completely forgotten the suggestion she herself had made. When Thomas reminded her of her own words, Anne blushed and began to laugh.

"Forgive me, my darling!" she brought her hands up to frame his face as she leaned in to kiss him. "It has indeed been an eventful day. This morning seems like it was so long ago."

She giggled when he teased her arm with the feather. Her teeth pinched her lower lip as she kept close, her hot breath upon his lips. "Yes...first things first," she pushed her hair aside as she turned her back to him. "My poet needs his canvas. Help me undress?"

Wyatt shifted on the bed and started slowly unzipping that purple dress he'd helped her got on a few hours earlier.

"You are forgiven, my darling. I'm not sorry this came as a surprise to you. Better this way than for you to also have noticed these pens and bought one for me."

Wyatt pushed the dress off of her shoulders and kissed the base of her neck. Next in turn was the hook of her bra which he had no trouble with. Wyatt let Anne remove that garment herself while he loosened his own tie.

"I'm not quite sure how to do this," he admitted. "Should I get undressed, too?"

Anne smiled at his words, finding her heart beating faster in her chest. She was excited! This was such a romantic gesture, yet another secret act they could share together. Anne stood up once he'd unzipped her dress and unclipped her bra. While she let the purple dress fall to the floor and pool at her feet, Anne kept her dress pulled up to her chest, covering her breasts. Not that she was afraid to show herself to him, but rather she wanted to tease him just a little more.

"Hmmm..." she considered his question before playfully reaching down with one free hand to tug his tie completely loose and free of his collar. "I think you should be as you usually are when you're writing. Often enough times I've found you with your tie askew and your shirt partially unbuttoned. Whatever jogs your creativity best."

Anne gave him a playful wink before she stepped towards the fireplace. It was artificial, but it looked very much like the real thing. Anne pushed a button on the mantle to turn it on, and then laid down on the carpet before the fireplace. She tossed her bra away before crossing her arms beneath her chin and smiling up at him. "Whenever my poet is ready."

"I like that," he grinned and followed Anne with his eyes. Seeing her in just panties made fiery little sparks run down his spine. Wyatt chuckled and tousled his hair. That was definitely the usual for him when he was writing but he had not realized it before meeting Anne. He'd learned to like it when she combed her fingers through his hair.

"And if you like this..." he added and undid top buttons of his shirt and pulled out the belt through the loops in his trousers. It would be more comfortable without it.

Wyatt grabbed pillows from the bed, just in case, and stepped to sit on the floor next to her. "Such a pretty canvas. I hope this isn't too ticklish for you."

He kissed the feather before brushing it softly across her back.

Anne smiled, biting her lower lip and wiggling her rear slightly to entice him further. "I will try to hold still so as not to disturb the artist."

She held still and rested her head on her hands. When he brushed the feather over her back, Anne did giggle softly. Her body wiggled a little from her laughing.

"Mmm...I like it," she whispered. "It feels better than I thought it might."

Anne found herself anxious to feel how it would feel to have him write upon her back. Anxious for the words he would craft for her.

((ooc: I decided that since modern day Anne and Thomas are happier and more free than their historical counterparts, the poems I use can be a bit darker. They are not meant to represent his feelings quite the same way as in other threads. If he recites a poem about unrequited love, he doesn't mean to imply Anne doesn't love him.))

Wyatt shifted an inch closer, leaning his free hand on the carpet. He placed the pen over her rear for a brief moment so that he could metaphorically sweep clean Anne's back with his hand. In truth it was more like a fleeting caress. He traced the line of her spine and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

"Hmm, a sonnet might be a good choice. I've been practising them recently, and they are not too long, this being our first try and all. I hope you like it."

Anne had said they should do this as if he was writing in her home. He always made sure to take a deep breath and concentrate well. So he did that now and took the feather pen in his hand.

Wyatt recited each word slowly and clearly, partly because he was simultanously writing them on her but also because he wanted the poem to truly sink into Anne's mind. It would have been way too slow, not to mention useless, to write each word just as it was, and therefore he opted to form only the first letters for many of them.

"Love and fortune and my mind, rememberer
Of that that is now, with that that hath been,
Do torment me so that I very often
Envy them beyond all measure.
Love slayeth mine heart; fortune is depriver
Of all my comfort; the foolish mind then
Burneth and plaineth, as one that seldom
Liveth in rest, still in displeasure.
My pleasant days they fleet away and pass,
But daily yet the ill doth change into the worse,
And more than the half is run of my course.
Alas, not of steel, but of brickle glass,
I see that from mine hand falleth my trust,
And all my thoughts are dashèd into dust."

He was quite happy with the result; the invisible poem on her back. It seemed to hung in the air between them and make him quiet and grateful.

((ooc: Works for me!))

Anne smiled as he brushed off her back. She sighed and closed her eyes so that she could bask in the sounds and sensation of Thomas' composing.

"A sonnet sounds lovely," she replied softly, recalling the sonnets of Milton and Shakespeare. She loved them, so she was curious how it would be to hear his sonnets.

Anne hung on every word, lying perfectly still while the quill moved over her skin. Her eyes were closed, she could have fallen asleep to the sound of his voice. When he finished, Anne chuckled and looked up to him, her dark eyes flashing. But otherwise she didn't move.

"So heavy-hearted my love," she chuckled. "But beautiful all the same."

He had been nervous of the feather being too ticklish for Anne, but she seemed to remain relaxed and concentrated throughout the experience. For Wyatt it had been just as meditative. Half-naked though she was before him, writing on her had felt intimate but not exactly sexual.

Wyatt smiled and stretched out on the floor beside her, his face close to hers.

"Thank you, my dear. You were the most perfect parchment to scribble on." Gently he run his hand up and down her arm. "I like being heavy-hearted in my poems. If I can pour down worries on a paper, I don't need to burden my loved ones with them so often."

Anne looked up to him as he lay beside her. She smiled and brought a few fingers up to draw along his jaw. "Glad to have been of service."

She listened as he explained his thought process behind his poetry. Anne smiled and nodded slowly. "Understandable. Even if it is heavy, I love your poetry. It's touching. And everyone has felt the feelings you express in your poetry, so I think a great deal of people would feel at ease reading it."

Her hand came up to cup his jaw, smiling up to him. "And you're hardly a burden, my darling. You should not feel the need to keep your heavier feelings bottled up. I would hope that you would feel open enough to tell me even when you're unhappy. Though I wish that you would not feel unhappy often."

She wanted him to always be happy with her.

"I am not. More often I'm happy than unhappy nowadays and I promise I won't keep important things from you. But as you understand already, my hope is to let others feel through my poetry as well, so that if they have no other means of expressing themselves, they find the cure in these lines."

As he spoke Wyatt let his hand travel down her smooth skin and stop at the rising curve of her rear. Grinning slighty, he brought his face just inches away from hers so that despite of her holding his jaw, he could give her nose a quick kiss.

"That was fun, using the feather and I wouldn't mind writing on you again on another time but touching you like this... it's definitely better."

His fingertips slipped under the waistband of her panties.

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