Work Text:
It was a cold winter’s evening. Ernest Sinclaire sat in the drawing room nursing what’s left of his drink and warming himself by the fire. He was mesmerized by the flames; how they could sustain life and yet take it away in an instant.
His reverie was interrupted by a welcomed intruder plopping themselves onto his lap.
“Oh, Mr. Sinclaire!” she exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around neck neck and cuddled into the crook “I am absolutely, irrevocably in love with you!” His wife’s words were starting to slur together and her cheeks were flushed.
He tightened his hold on her and placed a delicate kiss to her temple. “As I am with you, darling.” This close Ernest could smell the aftermath of the holiday brandy on her tongue. “Are you having a good time?”
“Oh, yes,” Clara snuggled into him. The warmth of the fire mixing with the warmth of his body and the warmth deep inside of her. Everything was so wonderful!
She began to hum a delightful, non distinct tune. He rubbed her back as he idly watched their friends and family settle into Edgewater for the evening.
“I have a secret,” she whispered against his skin. “But I can’t tell you.” Clara’s hand flew to cover her mouth. “I want so badly to tell you.”
His brows furrowed, “Why ever not?” Surely there wasn’t a single thing she couldn’t tell him at this point in their relationship. Surely nothing could compare to all the espionage of their past.
“Briar says I have to wait a month just to be sure.”
“Oh?” For a moment he figured it was just another silly game between friends.
But then her careful words set in.
Ernest removed Clara from him just enough to look at her directly. His deep blue eyes connecting with her own. Searching, questioning. Asking if it really, sincerely could be true.
She gave an imperceivable nod.