i need all four ♡

Mary Oliver, from Long Life: Essays And Other Writings originally published in 2004

TESSA THOMPSON ━ Vogue | 7 Days, 7 Looks (March 2023)

" I think I have an idea . " He doesn't want to come off as too arrogant about it though hence the attempt at being coy about the matter . Coat's removed and he takes seat , wine list's taken from her hands and looked over before waving a waiter over and asking a few questions before finally falling on a decision . " I hope you like it -- " And he can judge her taste if she didn't .

ㅤㅤ ❝ I'm sure I will, ❞ she hums, pushing her hair out of her face. ❝ You sure seem to know your stuff. ❞ Obviously, but she says it to flatter. ❝ Thank you again for dinner. I've had a good evening, ❞ she gives him another sultry smile, the tip of her stiletto brushing against Roman's leg. It was nice to relax after she had spent hours making sure that legally, the police couldn't get anywhere near Roman in that missing person's case. ❝ —Must feel good knowing that the pressure is lifted. ❞

NOT LIKE THE LOT OF THEM IS SHE . No . Instead she has a chip on her shoulder with a dislike toward the duke based on whatever it is that can be determined about him based on appearance . The commonwealth quite hate the rich , don't they ? He has to stop himself from so obviously rolling his eyes . Nose scrunches at query posed instead .

" Not rather fond of talking myself up . Reputations should speak for themselves . " Or spread around by word of mouth . What is is he expected to say ? I'm a French duke . A billionaire . Work hard , party harder . " I'm an investor in the arts . " Head nods over at cabaret down the street . " That club is mine . " Not that he's bragging , it's the least he could divulge without bragging about his status . " You should come out tonight --- Partake in a bit of fun--- I've some queens on tonight . I've been told drag nights at the cabaret are rather lively . "

ㅤㅤ From Lucy's point of view, it was the rich that hated them. Money corrupts, she knew that better than anyone (including herself, she would be the first to admit it). His answer does surprise her, shown by how her expression softens. ❝ The arts? ❞ she repeats, ❝ Very nice. ❞ It is hard to tell whether she is being sincere or not, but they did mean a lot to her (a wannabe fashion designer—but that dream was put on hold).

ㅤㅤ❝ —Mhm, it looks a little out of my price range, ❞ she says it as it is, not intending to make him feel negatively in any way. But, it had been a couple of years since she had been on a night out, and maybe there will be some heavy pockets she could make lighter. ❝ Will you be there tonight? ❞

Black forests inhabit her; midnight, moonlight, dreams.

"A friend of Cain's," he begins, knowing that reducing Cain and Zach to mere friends is bound to be wildly insulting, but having fun with it all the same, "Should be a friend of mine. Your opinion only matters so much to me, mm? But it does matter to him. And what Cain and I have is—well. It's best not interfered with."

ㅤㅤ Jaw tenses. He wants to take a swing at this guy right now—but he was trying to do better, be better for Cain. Is it jealousy? Insecurity? He is wondering if Cain will ever love him the way he seems to have loved Kieran (a conversation he is far too fragile to have), even though it appears that it was never really reciprocated. ❝ Cain is his own man, I'm not interfering. Maybe you should be having this discussion with him. ❞

She always liked Zachary more than her old man— his vices aligned with hers and he understood better than most that sometimes the excess and the rage were nice. Not proper, maybe, but cathartic. And maybe she liked pushing him too far, daring him to go as far as she would.

And had it been her, it would be different, she thinks. She's been stabbed before. Didi could take care of herself and the pained adrenaline would help her; she's sure of it. She could focus more if it was her and not someone she cared about. Right now with the drink and the panic, she can't think at all and she feels utterly useless— she's usually so good under pressure and yet the thought of Zachary hurt sent her into the sort of panic she's only felt one time before.

He says he's going to be okay and she just nods and hopes he's right; she isn't a medical person— sure, she's patched herself on occasions but never something this serious. Her phone is being searched for with the hand not keeping pressure on his wound— Didi's initial thought is an ambulance. That made sense. They could help him. Don't call Jasper and get yourself in trouble, is her second thought.

Even as 115 is being tapped in, the second thought keeps coming back to her; Jasper loves Zachary. That's more than he felt about her, she's sure. If Zachary dies— she doesn't want to think about it, but there's too much blood for her to ignore that possibility— she can't go back. He won't let her come back home. She wholeheartedly believes that—

Don't call them, came his whispering reply.

Didi looks at Zachary like he has two heads. "Wh—What do you mean don't— Zachary you've been FUCKING stabbed." She cannot believe she has to be the voice of reason here.

Call Jasper. Didi sucks in a breath. She doesn't want to. It's a bad idea all around. She hates to admit it but Jasper's her last lifeline...and if she actually messes that up to the point of no forgiveness, she won't have anything to fall back on.

But Zachary...he stares up at her in such a serene way. Like he knows it's all going to be alright. Didi doesn't how he manages to be more persuasive than her, but she does as she's asked for once. Jasper's number is dialed and Zachary shifts under her. "Don't move, hm. Conserve your strength." She orders with trembling lips.

It rings in her ear and she's suddenly aware of how quiet it is out here. There are the soft sounds of cars from the other side of the bar. The slight whine of the wind above their heads. And Zachary's quiet, shaking breathing— she doesn't know if she's actually breathing. She can't feel it.

"Didi—"

"—Zachary a été poignardé. Nous sommes dans un bar...Jasper, j'ai peur."

ㅤㅤ And Zachary liked Didi. He loved her, in fact. Cared about her. She was family and had promised Jasper that he would look out for her, (just as he had asked him about WIll many years ago). He got why she was angry, and what that anger could do. It didn't escape him that Didi had borne witness to his own moments of wrath, his own lapses into darkness. (Of course she had, though Zachary did not realise how much she intentionally egged him on).

ㅤㅤ He and Jasper had spoken about this moment. Well, not this moment where he's bleeding out onto the pavement, but when Didi would find out about who he was really. An heir to a title, to a legacy that was sullied by his own hand. It would never be a simple feat to explain it all (Zachary was lucky with Jasper, how he saw past the scar on the neck, a supernatural phenomenon rather than a monster). Surely she would have questions once she realised that he had never aged, (even now he looks extremely good for his age—still youthful.

ㅤㅤ But finding out this way? That would be cruel. Sick, even. Zachary knows it, as he lies in the pool of his own blood, still clinging onto her jacket, pressing against the wound that had yet to begin to heal itself, hiding it from Didi. Soon, Zachary hopes in agony, soon, please. For the love of god, please.

ㅤㅤ ❝ Just fucking call him! ❞ he shouts at her, the frustration palpable in every syllable. It's not anger directed at Didi, but she's oblivious to the storm brewing beneath his surface. Of course she is looking at him in disbelief. He should either be dead or close to it by now. Especially when he is actively crying out in pain.

ㅤㅤ❝ Let me talk to him, ❞ Zachary says, his voice still hoarse and weak, quickly disobeying her order to stay still as he reaches for the phone, crimson-stained hand trembling ❝ I need to talk to him. ❞ he pleads urgently, his determination overriding any sense of caution or restraint

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒