Archives for the Date January 13th, 2020

One Summer, Part XIX (Airports & Antigua)

missclairebelle:

Thanks to the incomparable @notevenjokingfic​ for being a fantastic beta and a phenomenal friend. I really love this installment of One Summer, and I hope you will, too. xx.

Part I (Adso), Part II (Dislocated), Part III (Entryway), Part IV (Pizza & Beer), Part V (Croissants & Coffee), Part VI (SMS), Part VII (Desktop), Part VIII (Sunday Sunflowers & Sundresses), Part IX (Caught Out), Part X (Netflix & Advil), Part XXI (Ben Nevis & Loch Lomond), Part XII (Non-Negotiable), Part XIII (Same), Part XIV (Toothbrushes & Eyeglasses), Part XV (Renovation & Dresser Drawers), Part XVI (Letters & Mattresses), Part XVII (London & Broch Mordha), Part XVIII (British Airways & Kittens)

One Summer
Part XIX: Airports & Antigua

Claire wondered if it would feel awkward to see Jamie.

Her palms were tacky as she wiped them on her thighs, praying that the sweat would not leave a mark. Sipping her overpriced airport beer, she replayed the comedy of errors that their long-distance relationship was proving to be.

“That’s an awfully thick jumper for a lass runnin’ off to Antigua.”

She rose automatically at the burring tone of his voice, the toe of her ankle boot catching on one of the barstool’s legs. She hadn’t even managed to swivel her head to get a good look at him before he prevented her fall, his hands (enormous enough to take care of all the rigging-related needs of a Viking ship) around her upper arms.

She swallowed hard when, with eyes narrowing in an appraising way (a forest predator assessing a foolishly fumbling fawn with meaty flanks), he said, “Well, hello.”

“Hello,” she echoed, not sure if she was now fully drawn against his front because he was hugging her close or his body was a magnet that drew her into its equatorial center. If an oncoming tempest of tears had a tone, it saturated her voice as she whispered, “I missed you.” She inhaled, the scent of his tissue paper-thin t-shirt clad chest. The smell of him was as warm as his very flesh.

“I missed ye, too,” he said. His hand was in her curls then, cupping the back of her skull, as though she were a baby with a soft cavern filled with squishy brain matter just beneath his touch. “Ye great cat grannie.”

“Happy New Year,” she mumbled eventually, having allowed herself to get intoxicated by his touch and lose her surroundings. Her heart was pounding so furiously that she was damn sure that he could feel it.

“Happy Hogmanay,” he amended.

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Can you share your thoughts on the whisky video with the class?

Of course, dear K. Anything for you! 😁

I think it’s a great demonstration that Sam is quite intelligent and eloquent, when he isn’t nervous and intimidated by the context. A more protected environment and a good interviewer really brought out the best in him. He knows his whiskey, so this venture clearly isn’t just something he did on a whim and solely for money.

His accent is extra dirty, probably because he is tired, comfortable and towards the ending a bit slooshed. He is very charming and personable.

And he looks like the best Loss!Jamie.💀

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Not the usual 2 months between chapters (for once!); hope you like it. Either way, always love to hear what you think, thanks so much for reading xx 😘

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