Anne Boleyn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
happyfalcon) wrote2015-11-08 11:22 pm
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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"But I've been working on something that I'd be happy to have your opinion on. I have a few stanzas ready and so many more ideas left that it'll be a long poem I'm sure. It kind of started to form in my head when I visited Allington a couple of weeks ago. I just love it there in early summer and wanted to put that down in writing."
The waiter came to take their orders which was good timing because then Wyatt could recite the poem without interruptions. Anne was about to find out that he had indeed taken inspiration from Kentish countryside. It was a love poem and it had a slightly sad undertone like all his poems but the references to nature made it quite light-hearted.
"My house shall be the greenwood tree,
A tuft of brakes my bed.
And this my life I lead
As one that from his joy doth flee
And all for your love, my dear.
And when the deer draw to the green,
Makes me think on a roe:
How I have seen ye go
Above the fairest, fairest be seen!
And all for your love, my dear.
The running streams shall be my drink.
Acorns shall be my food.
Naught else shall do me good
But on your beauty for to think
And all for your love, my dear."
Wyatt took a pause. The order of the stanzas was not yet set in stone in his head. It wasn't a problem but it meant he needed a moment to remember how to continue.
"But where I see in any coast
Two turtles sit and play,
Rejoicing all the day,
Alas, I think, this have I lost
And all for your love, my dear."
He still held onto Anne's hand when he finished with the poem.
"...that's what I have so far."
((ooc: I'm sending you a PM about this poem but please note here: order of the stanzas is deliberately mixed up. I wanted to convey the idea that he hasn't decided how it's going to be in the end.))
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But she was far more interested to hear his poem. When the waiter left, Anne smiled and turned her full attention to Thomas. "I'm anxious indeed - I haven't seen Allington in so long, I'd love to see it as it is now. But I want to hear about it through your words."
She fell silent when he recited it for her, and she tilted her head a bit as he spoke. Anne smiled and squeezed his hand when he finished.
"It's wonderful, Thomas," She took his hand in both of hers and brushed her lips over his knuckles. "If I understand it correctly - the speaker laments giving up these things, these wonderful things, for the love of his desired lady?"
Sometimes it was hard for her to grasp the more subtle nuances of Thomas' poetry. It was so mature and intellectual that she often had to pay very close attention to each and every word in order to understand its full meaning.
((ooc: Got it! And I think I found a link to the full poem, I PMed it back to you))
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Wyatt bit his lower lip. He knew his poems weren't always easy due to the archaic language he loved to use. He appreciated Anne for trying to decipher them although what he really wanted was for her to feel them. If she did that, she couldn't go wrong.
"Thank you. As I said it's not finished. I can still develop it in this way or that way. I can take a direction that would please you. I mean... well, my initial thought was that the person speaking the lines has been banished to the countryside for loving a woman he isn't supposed to love. He finds comfort in nature, watching the animals and living plainly, and remembering his lady."
The waiter brought their food and drinks, a feast quite different from acorns and spring water.
"And he willingly suffers the separation period for he knows that in time the woman will be his again. Maybe then he has to let go some of the things he cherished before but he accepts it. All for her love."
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It was challenging at times, but Anne loved the language he used for his poetry. It spoke back to the old days of good, proper poetry. It paid homage to the original poets. She needed a bit more time to figure it out sometimes. But all the same, she would have it no other way.
"I think it could use some rearranging, perhaps. But overall I like it!" She assured him. When he explained the poem, she squeezed his hand in hers and smiled.
The waiter returned before she could respond, so Anne waited a brief moment until they had their relative privacy once again.
"It's beautiful, sad in a way, but beautiful," she smiled. "That nature distracts him, gives him something else to focus on. But nothing compares to his lady, deep down."
His last sentence had her biting her lower lip. In many ways, this poem spoke to their relationship. Had he done that on purpose, she wondered. She chose not to comment on that, lest she make him uncomfortable. Instead she lifted her drink and held it aloft in toast.
"To you, my Poet. And to the beauty your words capture so flawlessly as no photograph or painting ever could," she smiled.
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"It will be rearranged. You can help me make it into a masterpiece," he offered generously. Apparently Paris had that effect on him.
It would be the first time that he'd let Anne take an active role in the creation of one of his poems. He always loved her opinions, but the writing process itself was an intimate one that he wasn't willing to share. Except now with this poem, if she so wished.
Wyatt held up his glass of beer and clicked it against Anne's wine glass. He found it adorable that she had toasted 'to the beauty your words capture'. For him that beauty was her but surely she had not raised the glass for herself. She wasn't that vain or calculating. It had just been an innocent, and fortunate, choice of words.
"To you, my Muse, with whom I read and rhyme. No other has inspired me more." He took a sip from his glass and winked. "Unlike the man in the poem, I intend to have it all. I won't settle for less. I want both the girl and countryside, and top it all off, a home in the city."
Maybe that answered Anne's unspoken question of the poem. Of course it was about them, in his roundabout way.
"Hmm, your salad looks good," he chaged the subject, not very subtly. The panini he'd ordered was every bit as perfect as one would expect. The French knew how to make even the most ordinary dish look and taste divine.
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Anne beamed when he made that offer. Helping him with his poetry? It was a dream come true! So rarely did he share his work with her when it wasn't finished, to help collaborate with him and work on spacing and positioning of certain stanzas, she was elated. She reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze.
"You mean it?" She grinned. "Thomas, I'd love to!"
His toast made her blush, and glance away. "You're too kind to me, my flatterer. I will do what I can to let you have both - for that's precisely what I want too. The country, you, and a home for us two, in the city."
It did indeed give her more peace of mind that their relationship was indeed heading in the direction she wanted. There truly was a future for them. She couldn't wait.
Anne smiled as he so abruptly changed the subject. "So does your panini," she chuckled. "So, what else do you want to do while we're here? I'm curious, what else do you have planned for our little holiday?"
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"I wouldn't joke about something like that. I trust you. It'll be fun to work on it together," he smiled and squeezed her hand right back. He knew Anne loved poetry as much as he did even if she didn't write it to earn a living.
It would mostly still be his poem as the lines already written pretty much anchored the setting and the tone but there was room for Anne's interpretation, too.
"Plans for today, you mean? Not much. I'm just happy to take it slow with you, to see what unveils in front of us. It'd be nice to go clubbing tonight, though, to a place of your choice. Not to stay up really late since tomorrow we're leaving for the wine country and I have to be fit to drive. And there will be activities," he grinned.
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Anne gave a sharp cry of delight and bounced a little in her chair - she was excited! This was a fantastic opportunity! For her. For them. She was beyond excited, she was over the moon.
She would never dream of taking credit from him; Anne would be content just helping him along with it - she didn't expect a byline by his name.
"A poem by the mysterious Poet and his Brunette," Anne winked at him before sipping her drink again.
At the mention of going clubbing, Anne's eyes lit. It had been a while since they'd been able to go, so obviously she was excited. "Ooooh...then so many choices! I'll have to decide which one would be best," she chuckled slightly. "Though I must admit I'm terribly excited for the prospect of the wine country."
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"A Poet and a Brunette? Why, you make us sound like a supercouple. Totally fictional, of course," Wyatt chuckled and dragged his chair closer to Anne so that he could lean over and press his lips against her for a brief kiss.
"Not that you're fictional to me. You are very real, and I like your idea. We just have to be careful because the more secrets we have, well..." Wyatt shrugged his shoulders. "Secrets are bound to complicate things."
But not yet. This was not the time to worry about the far future.
"Did you ever spend a night at a vineyard when you lived here?"
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When he leaned in to kiss her, she briefly kissed him back, happy for even the slightest contact from his lips, which were always so warm and comforting.
She frowned at the mention of secrets though. "Indeed, they do complicate matters. And the truth will out, after all." There was always a risk of someone discovering them. To a degree, Anne wanted them to get caught so that they wouldn't have to hide anymore, but discovery could mean disaster for them.
Besides, it was rather fun sneaking around with him.
Anne considered his question and pursed her lips as she shook her head. "No, my friends and I visited them, but never stayed overnight. We were too busy studying," she chuckled, it was a partial truth, one that he would likely spot.
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Wyatt stole a wedge of melon from Anne's plate and grinned.
"Of course. I believe you. After all we just came from that bookshop where, according to your words, you used to spend most of your time. Studying. That's how you became such an expert on wine and Parisian nightlife."
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In good time, in good time. It would be well worth the wait anyway.
She laughed again though at his last comment. "Hardly an expert! Experts would be those who frequent places like the Moulin Rouge. I know enough to get me by."
After a brief pause, Anne smiled and reached to rest her hand over his. "I will be content knowing your true feelings and keeping them all for myself. My greatest treasure - alongside your heart."
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Wyatt turned his hand palm up, to feel Anne's soft fingertips against his own.
"Moulin Rouge, eh? Makes me think of that movie. Have you seen it? It's been a while since I have but I do remember there was a poet, secretly in love with a cabaret dancer and... well, not quite like us. It was all very tragic," he chuckled. "We should rent it when we're back in England and have a movie night."
He finished the last crumb of the bread and the last drop of the beer. He was ready to leave and keep exploring the city whenever Anne was.
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She had enjoyed it, though now with her situation so similar, the ending seemed rather bleak. But the idea of preparing snacks and cuddling with Thomas on the couch under a blanket while watching the movie was appealing to her.
Anne finished her salad and continued to sip the last of her wine. For a long moment she just looked into his eyes. "Tell me, I'm curious," she brushed her fingers over his. "What did you think when you first saw me? When I first arrived at the paper and George was showing me around, what did you think of me?"
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"What did I think of you? Anne, you know what I thought. Are you now not trying to be modest?" he scolded her playfully. But his tone was more solemn when he recited few lines from a poem.
"Forthwith I found the thing that I might like
And sought with love to warm her heart alike."
He took Anne's hand and kissed it.
"I've told you how I used to look at the photo of you on your father's desk. Not that I frequented his office but... you know. I liked what I saw. You radiated a quality that no one else did. I thought it was something that only I could see but I wasn't sure if it was just the picture because pictures can lie. When you came from Paris, I knew the reality was even better. Still, sometimes it was painful to have you around. I didn't think you'd ever be a part of my life."
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She blushed when he kissed her hand - she loved such gallant little gestures.
Anne listened to his words and smiled, her fingers rubbed softly over his palm as she listened. Thomas had a sort of reverence when he spoke of her; a reverence that Anne thought she hardly deserved.
"Yet here we are. On holiday together," she chuckled. "I can hardly believe it. This is all so surreal!"
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"We're here because of you, not because of me. You decided to give me a chance even though it must have been against your better judgement."
The waiter came to check upon them in case they wanted something more but since that wasn't so and they had finished eating, Wyatt just ended up paying the bill.
"Let's hop on the metro and go somewhere we'll have a good view of the city. You'll lead," he suggested and took her hand.
((ooc: I thought Anne could take him to the rooftops, as we planned.))
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Anne smirked at his self-deprecating remark. She squeezed his hand and rolled her eyes a bit. "Against my better judgment indeed. Please. You're the best judgment call I've made."
When the bill was paid, Anne smiled and stood up. She kept her hand in his and laced her fingers with his.
"Sounds like a plan, I know just where to go, c'mon!" Anne was excited.
She led him to the metro and they went a little further outside the city, just to get a better view inside. They got off where the tall buildings still remained, and she led him to a library. But rather than linger amongst the books, Anne put a finger to her lips and led Thomas to the areas restricted for the staff, up the stairs through storage and to the roof. She propped the door so that they wouldn't get locked up there.
The roof gave them an ideal view of the city - all the buildings and the river, and the beautiful scenery. The wind kicked up around them, blowing Anne's dark hair almost like a fantasy. "Well? What do you think?" she grinned.
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Which left him speechless and smiling like an idiot.
He laughed and watched Anne moved across the rooftop. Her hair did indeed swirl around her like a living creature. Wyatt caught up with her and tamed the locks by holding a good chunk of them between his hands and Anne's shoulders. And since he was there so conveniently, he kissed her. Twice.
"This I wouldn't have guessed, or hoped for." He let go of her to take in the view again. "Thank you for a magnificent surprise."
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She grinned up at him when he looked at the view again. "To think I rendered the great Thomas Wyatt absolutely speechless. I should record this for posterity!"
Anne reached for her cell phone and held it aloft - getting a picture of them both with the view in the background. She glanced up to Thomas and kissed him deep as she pressed the button for her phone camera.
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Abandoning the view once again, Wyatt focused on Anne's mouth that was coming enticingly close. Whether she took one or more pictures of them, he didn't pay attention to it. He was far too busy wrapping his hands around her waist and making sure those sweet lips were meeting with his.
Wyatt pulled Anne harder against himself, his hands caressing her back while the bag with the poetry book in it hung from his wrist. Memories of their time together so far flashed through his mind, making him moan a little.
He didn't want to let go but after a moment of passion, he sighed and looked at her. "Did it turn out okay? Show me," he asked, referring to the photo.
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She took several photos with her phone, just to make sure she got a perfect shot. But of course any photo of their kiss would be perfect. But as he held her so tight and so close, letting their combined heat pass between them to combat the chill of the wind that blew around them, Anne no longer held interest in her phone. Slowly she lowered her arm and wrapped her arms fully around him. She blushed, parting her lips a little and deepening the kiss.
When he pulled away, she kept her forehead pressed against his. She didn't want the moment to end either, but she didn't protest. Anne smiled and brought her phone up, behind his head so she could look at the photo. A few shots had her hair blowing around by the wind, so she flipped past them. But she did find one that she liked, and she brought the phone forward to show him.
"I think it turned out perfect," she whispered, nipping playfully at his ear. The Parisian scene behind them, and the two of them locked in a passionate kiss. Yes, it was perfect.
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"Mm, we look happy," he noted but that was a deliberate understatement. It wasn't just happiness he saw in the picture. There was such lust that he felt his chest swell. He saw his own vulnerability, and his readiness to surrender to her.
Wyatt leaned in to press another kiss on her lips.
"You have to send it to me. I... I'll make it into a poster," he laughed. "Or at the very least, use it for my screensaver." Neither which he could do because others would see it. But it was a nice fantasy.
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When he declared his intention to make the photo into a poster, she laughed at him, grinning broadly from ear to ear. Anne pressed a few buttons on her phone, and soon it chimed that the message was sent straight to Thomas's number. "I leave it to you to do as you like with it."
Perhaps one day he'd be able to indeed share and display it as they both would like.
Music wafted up from the ground below as Paris showed her true romantic nature and love affair with the arts. Anne glanced down to the streets and then turned her attention back to Thomas. "Care to dance with me? The city has given us such music to enjoy."
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"Why, yes. Dancing is the next best thing," he smiled and set aside the bag from the bookstore. Dancing meant holding her close and Wyatt woud not and could not turn down such an opportunity.
The sounds of an accordion, violin and guitar were carried up the alley for his and Anne's delight; a small orchestra was playing on the street in front of cafe down below them.
Wyatt slid his arms around Anne's waist. He did it slowly, savouring the moment of their bodies setting against each other. He breathed in the scent of her hair.
"Mm, so perfect." He moved a few steps in what was hardly dancing.
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