A/N: as always, I have to express my gratitude (ha, how fitting is that? xD) towards you guys for supporting this story, each of you in your own way—be it as reader, kudo-er, subscriber, commenter, reblogger, recommend-er. I see all of you, and I appreciate you. and maybe the knowledge that your love for my story makes my days that much brighter will put a smile on your faces too <3
and to the people who bear with me during my frustrations, who help me make Downhill what it is:
@elizabeth-beauchamp and @SassySassenach (the creator of this wonderful moodboard) I wouldn’t want to do this without you guys.
Claire Beauchamp was a woman of science—by nature
as much as by profession. After thousands of hours of studying and analysing,
of dissecting and mending the human body, her understanding of its wondrous
adaptability as well as its limitations went far beyond the average.
And even though she knew that it was
physically impossible, in this very moment, logic and reason went flying out
the window, overruled by the unfounded conviction that the only thing keeping
her from floating on cloud nine was the solid weight of Jamie’s arm around her
middle.
There had been trying times aplenty in her
life—whether it was dealing with pressures and people, or with loss and
heartache and yearning. She’d taken those in stride, though, making the best of
the messy hand of cards with which she’d been dealt. Bolstered by the beauty
and kindness that surrounded her, she always tried to fill her present with
dimpled smiles and full-bellied laughter. As precious moments accumulated, past
bruises eventually faded into memory, giving way to happiness.
And she had been happy with her life—truly
and contentedly so. She had friends that were closer to her than family, a
calling that gave her pride and a sense of accomplishment, and a little
copper-haired boy who made her days brighter by his mere existence.
But even that happiness, however absolute
it may have been at the time, paled in comparison to what she was feeling now.
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