Chocolate 9; Pistachio 25
Author: Marina
Story: Shifts universe (Tremors)
Challenge: Chocolate 9 (resentment), Pistachio 25 (the morning after)
Toppings: Hot Fudge (Abraham)
Word Count: 522
Rating: PG-13
Summary: If it were possible to be worse than Fitzwilliam Darcy at proposing, Abraham would be that person.
Notes: Partial background for the third section of that pocky chain I posted earlier.
Abraham Wellingstone was nothing if not a keen observer of the human condition, and the first thing he observed about Oriana Kopen that morning was that she was furious, with both herself and him. When he explained that he was allowing her to eat downstairs with him instead of alone in her room, she got up immediately, but did not speak or even look at him. Not that he blamed her. He did not care for the situation any more than she did, but he had few options at this point.
They found a window table set for two in the dining room, and once they sat down, she studied the scenery that lay beyond with a mixed expression. One of the servers hurried to help them. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Miss Kopen will have orange juice,” Abraham said calmly, before his companion could speak.
“I’ll have whatever I damn well want,” she snapped.
He lifted a shoulder. “Certainly, as long as it isn’t coffee.”
Oriana opened her mouth to shoot off a retort, but she closed it again before making it. “Didn’t even think of that.” She sighed and turned back to the window. “Orange juice is fine.”
“And I will have my usual cup of black coffee,” Abraham added.
She snorted. “Black like your soul?”
He refrained, with difficulty, from commenting on that until the server had finished taking their breakfast orders and left to get the drinks. “I do wish you would stop making derisive comments about my character, Miss Kopen.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Wellingstone,” she said, mimicking his tone, “I have hooked up with a lot of jerks, but you’re a bigger douche than all of them. Combined.”
He decided that the topic he wanted to discuss with her could wait until she had some food in her stomach.
Unfortunately for him, the only thing that he gained from waiting was a shirt that remained free from orange juice stains. “That’s not going to happen,” she said, before he could even finish the sentence.
“I would like the child to be legitimate and to have my last name.”
“Then you can legally adopt it after it’s born, assuming I even get pregnant. I could be infertile. Did you ever think about that?”
“You really do enjoy being perverse.”
“I’ve been practicing on Eleazar for years.”
Abraham pinched his nose, thinking about what he could possibly say to get her to see it his way. Despite his best efforts, she was beginning to frustrate him. “I realize that this was not part of our deal,” he said, “but I wish you would at least consider it.”
The glare Oriana shot him then startled him so much that he almost jumped. “I considered it long before I ever met you. I don’t care how much you plead or reason or threaten my brother. I am not giving you my life. End of discussion.”
It was clear that he would be making no headway at this point in time, so he backed off. She isn’t going anywhere. I’ll have time to persuade her. “Suit yourself, then.”
Story: Shifts universe (Tremors)
Challenge: Chocolate 9 (resentment), Pistachio 25 (the morning after)
Toppings: Hot Fudge (Abraham)
Word Count: 522
Rating: PG-13
Summary: If it were possible to be worse than Fitzwilliam Darcy at proposing, Abraham would be that person.
Notes: Partial background for the third section of that pocky chain I posted earlier.
Abraham Wellingstone was nothing if not a keen observer of the human condition, and the first thing he observed about Oriana Kopen that morning was that she was furious, with both herself and him. When he explained that he was allowing her to eat downstairs with him instead of alone in her room, she got up immediately, but did not speak or even look at him. Not that he blamed her. He did not care for the situation any more than she did, but he had few options at this point.
They found a window table set for two in the dining room, and once they sat down, she studied the scenery that lay beyond with a mixed expression. One of the servers hurried to help them. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Miss Kopen will have orange juice,” Abraham said calmly, before his companion could speak.
“I’ll have whatever I damn well want,” she snapped.
He lifted a shoulder. “Certainly, as long as it isn’t coffee.”
Oriana opened her mouth to shoot off a retort, but she closed it again before making it. “Didn’t even think of that.” She sighed and turned back to the window. “Orange juice is fine.”
“And I will have my usual cup of black coffee,” Abraham added.
She snorted. “Black like your soul?”
He refrained, with difficulty, from commenting on that until the server had finished taking their breakfast orders and left to get the drinks. “I do wish you would stop making derisive comments about my character, Miss Kopen.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Wellingstone,” she said, mimicking his tone, “I have hooked up with a lot of jerks, but you’re a bigger douche than all of them. Combined.”
He decided that the topic he wanted to discuss with her could wait until she had some food in her stomach.
Unfortunately for him, the only thing that he gained from waiting was a shirt that remained free from orange juice stains. “That’s not going to happen,” she said, before he could even finish the sentence.
“I would like the child to be legitimate and to have my last name.”
“Then you can legally adopt it after it’s born, assuming I even get pregnant. I could be infertile. Did you ever think about that?”
“You really do enjoy being perverse.”
“I’ve been practicing on Eleazar for years.”
Abraham pinched his nose, thinking about what he could possibly say to get her to see it his way. Despite his best efforts, she was beginning to frustrate him. “I realize that this was not part of our deal,” he said, “but I wish you would at least consider it.”
The glare Oriana shot him then startled him so much that he almost jumped. “I considered it long before I ever met you. I don’t care how much you plead or reason or threaten my brother. I am not giving you my life. End of discussion.”
It was clear that he would be making no headway at this point in time, so he backed off. She isn’t going anywhere. I’ll have time to persuade her. “Suit yourself, then.”