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“Now I’m important to him. Typical.”
What does that even mean? Important.
Antigone sighed as she left Eric’s room, realising she wouldn’t be getting any answers out of him anytime soon. Besides Jerry wasn’t going to embalm himself. So back to the mortuary it was. In the time it took her to descend the stairs to the main floor of Chapman’s she had managed to successfully pull herself together. Mostly. At least hopefully enough that Rudyard and Georgie probably wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.
---
Following the disaster with the automatic embalmers friend 8000 Antigone opted to pop back to Funn Funerals to pick up her own embalming supplies. Nothing wrong with doing it the old fashioned way anyway! Gathering the relatively primitive, but still perfectly functional, portable embalming machine into a bag she heaved out another sigh before hefting it over her shoulder and headed back to Chapman’s. She could have got the job done in her own mortuary but frankly she didn't want to leave Rudyard unsupervised for longer than necessary. Which was not unfair given the damage he had already caused today. Though Georgie could probably handle him, Antigone wasn’t entirely certain that their assistant wouldn’t actually encourage or help Rudyard with some sort of hair-brained scheme to sabotage Chapman. She could also admit Chapman’s mortuary was quite nice, if you liked that open air, plenty of room, bright light minimalist aesthetic. It definitely wasn’t dark and dingy like her own. She wasn’t sure she was entirely prepared to face that brightness again. Probably best to just get on with it.
In the short walk across the square, Antigone couldn't help but let her mind drift back to the earlier conversation with her drug and sleep-addled rival. Stupid Chapman and his fancy machine and vague statements! Important. Important, how ? What did that even mean ? She groaned quietly, scrubbing her hands against her eyes as she entered the lift and headed up to the mortuary, scowling, still lost in her thoughts despite her best efforts. Luckily Georgie and Rudyard hadn’t seemed to pick up on anything, likely believing any perceivable frustration to be caused by the general stress of the day. Rather than her earlier private interaction with Chapman in which he blurted out vague, unhelpful, possibly romantic statements whilst high on pain medication. Christ .
She couldn’t focus on that now though. She had work to do. And so she got on with it.
An hour later Antigone emerged from her focus, stepping back with her hands on hips, satisfied. Much better, one perfectly embalmed dog. At least this was something she understood. Embalming was easy to comprehend - unlike people and their confusing and cryptic declarations.
Taking a moment to look around the room Georgie and Rudyard both appeared to be engrossed in their own tasks. “How’s everything else coming along?” She asked somewhat skeptically, certain Rudyard had been putting in the appropriate amount of effort but she didn’t totally trust he hadn't been focusing it on sabotaging something. Thankfully Georgie answered first.
“Coffins a good’n, just have to mop up and do something with those dogs.” She looked to where the dogs had claimed a corner of the mortuary and seemed to have formed an adorable, yet very damp, cuddle pile. Before Rudyard had a chance to reply, those blasted screens blinked back to life once more. Or at least the backup one Georgie didn’t smash to pieces. This time showing an even more delirious Chapman, which Antigone wouldn't have previously thought possible. Her mistake.
“Helllooooo, Funns!” He practically sang and Antigone cringed at the volume of it as she shared a slightly concerned look with Georgie. True to his usual form Rudyard had taken on a look of annoyance and appeared about ready to start berating Chapman for not leaving them alone. Luckily he was interrupted by the man himself before he could get a word in.
"Funns!" Eric's voice crackled through the speakers, the volume causing some horrendous feedback. "I was just thinking-" his enthusiastic rambling was quickly cut off by an adorable hiccup followed by a snort of laughter. Antigone shared a concerned look with Georgie. Maybe Edgeware had given him something a bit too strong? Before she could ask, Chapman resumed with whatever he was trying to say, seemingly managing to reign in his laughter somewhat, for now at least.
"Why is a sad ernal?" Chapman rushed out still stifling his giggles and Antigone was confused. Was she supposed to understand what that sentence meant?
"What on earth are you talking about, Chapman?" Rudyard shouted at the speaker. "We are very busy here and we don't have-"
He was cut off by Eric very loudly blurting out in a single breath, "There's no fun!" before he finally seemed unable to contain himself any longer, giggling uncontrollably. Was it meant to be a joke? It was rather adorable, Antigone thought. No shut up she definitely didn't think that. “Did you get it? Why are none of you laughing?” So clearly it was a joke? Albeit a very bad incoherent one.
“Whatever it was, it didn’t make a lick of sense!” Rudyard practically seethed.
“Maybe I told it wrong…” Chapman replied, far too serious for someone who was totally off his face. He paused for a moment, deep in thought. “I’m going to try again!" He seemed to bounce back.
“Chapman there is no need-” Rudyard tried, evidently alarmed by the prospect. It didn't help.
“What is worse than a funeral?” Chapman started again, speaking slowly as if that would help them understand better.
“A Chapman funeral.” Georgie muttered under her breath, causing Rudyard to snigger.
Antigone elbowed her, hissing a quiet “ Georgie ” also under her breath. Before turning back to the screen that displayed the very delirious Eric, letting out a sigh and reluctantly humouring him. “I don’t know Chapman?”
He giggled, “an eneral!” Then his face crinkled in concentration, “Wait no, an eral !” He was clearly proud of himself and started sniggering again. Antigone rolled her eyes, unimpressed but fond. “Because it doesn’t have any fun in it!" Eric blurted out what was clearly meant to be the punchline of the joke, overly happy with himself. “And you’re Funns so this funeral will be super fun and not at all eraly!” He looked at them all expectantly.
“Right…” They were saved from any need for further response as the giddy laughter abruptly sputtered to a stop when Eric spotted the fact that they were all standing up to their ankles in water.
“Why does the mortuary look like a very shallow swimming pool?” He sounded more sober and concerned now. Crap.
“I…um… cleaning!” Antigone all but cried, quickly moving closer to the monitor. “We were just giving it a really good clean. We didn’t want to give you any more work, what with your condition.”
“That makes sense…” Chapman replied, drawing out the last word far longer than it should have been. This seems to placate him for the time being, as he noticeably settled back into his pillows.
Rudyard shuffled up to Antigone’s shoulder and hissed under his breath, “Go and deal with him before he asks any more questions! Or worse, subjects us to any more of his incoherent nonsense!”
“I went last time!” She spat back, indignant. Because being angry was better than the embarrassment that came with thinking about why exactly she didn’t want to go up there again. Chapman clearly didn’t mean anything by it and she really just needed to forget it happened.
“Now look here, do you honestly think I should go instead?” Rudyard asked, and she hated that he was right. There was a reason they sent her up there in the first place.
“Fine!” She huffed, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes at her brother before heading towards the lift. “But you owe me!”
---
“Chapman?” She called hesitantly, quietly knocking before slowly entering the room again.
“ Antigoneee .” Chapman responded and though he appeared drowsy, and definitely not entirely with it, he still seemed to perk up when she came to sit on the edge of his bed, a soft smile gracing his lips.
“How are you feeling?” She asked after a beat of silence, tearing her eyes away from him to avoid the lovely way he was still looking at her, and willing the blush that stained her cheeks to disappear. For god's sake she needed to pull herself together!
“ Mmm.'' He hummed a pleased whisper, hushing his voice as if telling a secret. “Much better now you’re here.” And that statement caused him to giggle to himself softly. Not the same somewhat hysterical laugh from before, but light and carefree, the way she wished he could be without whatever remaining secrets he had weighing him down. Clearly the painkillers were working in that respect anyway. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Eric this relaxed, he always seems to have an air of tenseness just beneath those plastered on grins. She could usually pick it out in the tight twitch of his chiselled jaw and the way that his smile never quite reached those gorgeous blue eyes.
“ Antigone is such a nice name. An-ti-go-neeee.” He added, drawing out each syllable as if testing how they felt in his mouth. She hates herself a little for how much she’s always loved the way he says her name.
Perhaps the painkillers are working a little too well though as he’s moved onto staring at her with a look of what, if she didn’t know any better, she would call awe.
“You know, Chapman, you really ought to try and get some rest. Doctors orders and all. We have the funeral under control, nothing to worry about.” Which for the most part was actually true. Obviously, this morning had been a disaster but things were going much better now they had stopped trying to do a Chapman style funeral. And they would work everything out in the end, like they usually did.
Even in his sedated state Chapman still managed to shoot her an incredulous look at this assertion. A look which would usually raise her hackles, because how dare he not have even some faith in their ability to pull this off, but in the current moment he was decidedly too helpless for her to take him seriously. Instead she let out a small huff of laughter.
“I know, I know. I'm actually surprised Rudyard hasn’t burnt the place down,” She confided before letting out another laugh, this time a little nervously, before mumbling under her breath “Well it's too damp to catch light now anyway.”
In the ensuing lull she fussed with flattening the ever present creases in the fabric of her dress, trying desperately not to look at Chapman anymore than necessary. A slightly distracted questioning hum was the only response she received before she looked up, inadvertently catching Chapman’s gaze only to realise he hadn’t stopped staring at her. That strange, unbelievable look still on his face.
“Nothing, ignore me,” She hastily brushed aside and let the room lapse back into silence.
It was broken by a near half asleep Eric a few moments later “Will you stay with me for a while? Just till I fall asleep?” Antigone knew she really should have declined straight away, instead of pausing to mull it over. She had already finished all her work for the funeral so it wasn’t as if she would be missed . Plus she deserved a bit of a break. And really how was she ever supposed to refuse him when he was looking at her like that and sounding so heart clenchingly earnest .
Truthfully, the real thing stopping her from agreeing was the way her heart raced in her chest at the mere thought of spending more time alone with Chapman. Just the two of them. In his bedroom. It was a bad idea. But there Eric was, eyes wide and brow furrowed, looking for all the world like he genuinely cared a great deal about whether she stayed or left.
“I…uh..yes, alright.” She agreed, probably less reluctantly than she should, because how could she not.
“Thank you.” And that genuine, slightly drowsy, smile was worth the potential of having to explain herself to the others and possibly dying from mortification. Rudyard and Georgie probably wouldn’t even notice she hadn’t come back though, too caught up in their own preparations to notice if she was away for just a bit longer.
She chose not to think of that now as she lay down next to Eric on top of the covers, leaving a respectable, friendly distance between them. She could still barely bring herself to look at him, so instead opted to adopt her usual sleeping position, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling.
She was too busy intently focusing on how smooth and blemish free Chapman’s ceiling was to notice he had moved closer, startling only slightly when Eric gently grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together.
Oh.
She should remove her hand, tell him to piss off and yell about how dare he think such a thing is appropriate between competitors. But… It felt nice . Just lying there holding hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world. It was nothing. It’s not as if this was even their first time holding hands. So obviously it didn’t mean anything. Just like it hadn’t meant anything when they were alone, trapped in the dark.
That wasn’t true though. It had meant something to her . And well here they were, alone again in the sort of dark, her still vainly pining for him. Because nothing ever changed, no matter how hard she tried…
No, that wasn’t true either. She had changed and she wasn’t going to waste her time waiting for him. It didn’t mean anything to him so it wouldn’t mean anything to her!
Unfortunately that thought didn’t stop the way her heart raced in her chest when Eric squeezed her hand. But it didn’t matter. He would be properly asleep soon, better just to wait and pry herself free once his breathing settled into a gentle snore. Yes, that was logical. Purely a decision based on practicality. Nothing to do with how the calluses on his fingers felt as they gently brushed against the back of her hand, or how he brought warmth to her perpetually cold extremities. And she definitely didn’t feel content and comfortable, her eyes slipping closed as she lay here next to a man she was supposed to hate.
---
Antigone awoke somewhere much brighter than usual, somewhat confused and disoriented. Once her senses had eventually come back to her, she was startled by the abrupt realisation that, good god there was an arm around her waist. What on earth? Heart racing, she tried to extract herself from the situation. As she did the arm tightened and a face, presumably related to said arm, nuzzled into her hair. A voice mumbled something incoherent. Eric ’s voice. And suddenly everything came flooding back. Brilliant , bloody brilliant. She must have fallen asleep, who knows how long for. Probably not more than an hour or two otherwise Rudyard and Georgie would have come looking for her. Surely. They’d be worried Chapman was holding her hostage or some nonsense. He was certainly holding her alright.
If she could just slip out... No, it looked like she was stuck being spooned by Eric Chapman. Christ .
She groaned internally, not wanting to wake him up and having to deal with fumbling her way through some awkward and embarrassment laden interaction. She could probably wrestle her way out, but again she really didn't want to wake him or further bruise his broken ribs. He was already upset enough about his current injuries, Antigone didn’t want to be lumped in with Rudyard in the ‘caused Eric Chapman grievous bodily harm’ category. If nothing else that would surely give him cause to sue Funn Funerals. And god knows they couldn’t afford that.
Eric stirred slightly and Antigone froze, inadvertently holding her breath. “Mmm, love you,” He mumbled, burrowing his face further into her hair and letting out a contented sounding sigh.
Great. She was stuck being spooned by Eric Chapman while he was clearly having pleasant dreams about someone else. Just marvelous . She lay still and cursed her stupid, treachorous heart. Antigone had told herself she had moved on, he clearly didn’t feel the same way and so she wasn’t going to waste her time pining after a man who didn’t understand her. But god whether she wanted it to or not that ‘important to me’ nonsense had dragged her right back in. Why did he have to go and say that? He obviously didn’t mean it in that way and now her poor, desperate heart would inevitably end up crushed.
Thankfully Eric was still asleep and not conscious to witness this silent breakdown. A breakdown that only got worse with the muttered, soft sound of her name brushed against her neck. “ Antigone,” whispered into her skin like a prayer.
No, that undoubtedly wasn’t what he said, she was hearing things. He couldn't have said that, not like that anyway. It was just like the cinema all over again. Her sleep-addled mind was imagining things. Christ she had to get out of here as soon as possible. Sod it all, she didn’t care if she woke him up now.
“Chapman,” She poked the muscular arms that snaked around her gently and only received an incoherent mumble in response. “ Chapman,” She hissed, slightly more desperate this time. “Eric,” She tried finally, panic creeping into her voice, and at last this appeared to rouse him slightly.
“Morning,” He let out, bleary eyed and likely still drugged up, nevertheless his voice sounded soft and pleased.
“Chapman, you have let me go,” She added with some urgency, prodding his arm a little more pointedly.
He dutifully lifted said arm, allowing her to sit up. “You’re not usually still here when I wake up,” Sleep still lacing his voice he sounded puzzled, and as she turned to face him she saw an adorable frown pinch his eyebrows together, an almost pout forming on his lips. Then she froze as her stomach dropped and the unanticipated implication of his words sank in.
“Usually?” She questioned warily.
“Yes, well usually you are only here in my dreams. And then I wake up and poof! Gone.” Okay, so he was definitely still under the effects of the painkillers. Still, Antigone didn't know how to respond to that, thrown completely off kilter by the confirmation that he had in fact been dreaming about her and seemingly not for the first time. Dear god this was even worse than the important nonsense. Much worse.
“I…”
“ Oh . Of course . I'm still dreaming aren't I,” Chapman breezed on, as if that was the most obvious conclusion in the world. Letting out a small, humourless laugh, “Hah. I thought you were the real Antigone.”
“Wh-” Again, she didn't have the chance to form a coherent reply before he was prodding her in the arm and laughing a bit more lightly this time. She reflexively swatted his hand away.
“The doctor must have given me the good stuff. I haven’t had dreams this vivid since that time in Budapest…” Eric moved his hand back so the tips of his fingers gently brushed down Antigone's arm. She didn't bat him away this time. She probably should have.
“ Chapman ! If you would stop interrupting me, I am the real Antigone and you are not asleep.” She groused, shooting the best glare she could muster towards a clearly off his face Chapman who had completely discomposed her. Which admittedly was quite difficult. She ploughed on anyway. “Now if you will excuse me I should really check on Rudyard and Georgie.” Which was a reasonable excuse, and probably worth doing, but very much not the cause for her urgency.
Still obviously drowsy, Eric sank back into the plush pillows and smiled that dopey smile again. “Mmm I don't believe you. The real Antigone is much meaner. She doesn't like me and would never cuddle in bed with me. We are just competitors.” And if Antigone isn’t mistaken Chapman sounded rather put out by the word competitors. Though she already knew that, given their not so long ago conversation on that subject. He wanted to be her friend . Of course he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone not liking him. Well anyone other than Rudyard that is, even Chapman had to accept that was rather a lost cause.
The fact his words were clearly drug insighted nonsense however, did not stop her from blushing furiously at the accusation of her willingly cuddling him. ‘It was an accident!” She cried, and that was the truth at least, even if her traitorous mind supplied that she had enjoyed it immensely and would happily do it again. “I didn't mean to fall asleep! That is the last thing I wanted to do!” And there was the lie.
“Hmm, maybe you are the real Antigone.” Chapman sighed sadly and Antigone almost wished she could take it back. Almost. But there was a reason she kept boundaries with Eric. Competitors.
“Why don't we hang out more?” Chapman whined, seeming to want to change the topic, his eyes gazing pleadingly up at Antigone as if she had an answer that wouldn’t break at least one of their hearts. Instead she settled on her go to response, though it came out softer than usual and she was again reminded of that day standing outside Nigel and Desmond's wedding reception. Chapman had the same desperate look on his face then too.
“We run rival businesses, Eric.”
His face seemed to fall a bit at that “I guess, but I still wish we could hang out more often.” Turning to lay on his uninjured side, his gaze boring into her while she resolutely stared down at her fingers as they tangled in the soft fabric of his duvet cover. After a moment, Antigone steeled her nerves, and made the decision to give him something at least. Something, that even if he coherently recalled it after the drugs had worn off, wouldn’t be totally mortifying.
“I suppose, Chapman, we are sort of friends.” She let out a small sigh of relief, it wasn’t all that she wanted to admit, but she wasn’t brave or foolish enough for that. There was a moment's silence where Antigone thought Eric might have drifted off again. But when she glanced up through the curtain of her hair to check she was met with what, if she wasn’t mistaken, was a confused expression. Which thoroughly perplexed her in return.
“I don't want to be friends.” He stated rather matter of factly, and he actually sounded offended by the idea! The bloody cheek! He was the one who was begging for the admission in the first place. Antigone felt her whole face heat with embarrassment which quickly turned to anger as she rounded on Chapman.
“Well that's fine by me! We don't have to be friends! I never wanted to be your friend anyway, you were the one who suggested it, Chapman! We are competitors and it would be silly to act like we will ever be anything else! You're the one who is so insistent on bringing it up anyway. No, I look forward to crushing your business into the ground! Just you wait-” finally she was letting out all of her pent up frustration, turning it into a truly scathing tirade aimed solely at an intoxicated Chapman. She would have continued as well had it not been for Eric so rudely interrupting her.
“No, Antigone! You should be my girlfriend instead!” He declared with a self-satisfied smug smile. Stating it as if it was an obvious fact and not the most mind boggling thing he had ever said to her. It took longer than was probably reasonable for her to fully process and register exactly what he had just said. And when she did her whole body flooded with terror. Meanwhile he remained sat there with that stupid smile on his ridiculously handsome face, and she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to kiss him or slap him.
“What? !” This could not be happening. She must be the one dreaming. Was it possible to become drugged through touching someone or them breathing on you? No, that’s ridiculous. She had definitely heard correctly, this was obviously just Chapman not knowing what he was saying because he was so out of it from the painkillers. As an explanation that unfortunately made a lot of sense, even if it did make her heart sink.
“You're adorable when you're annoyed. Do you know that, Antigone?” She was stirred from her spiralling by the question and dear god she really wished he would stop saying her name like that. So soft it made her heart flutter. “Do you wanna go on a date sometime?” He asked dreamily, smiling at her, eyebrows raised inquisitively. And she didn't know how to respond, because in different circumstances she would have jumped at the chance, but now it caused a painful mix of emotions.
“Chapman-” She started, not actually sure what she was going to say but it turned out she didn't need to because he gently cut her off again.
“Eric. Call me Eric, please.” And his voice was so soft yet insistent as if her calling him by his first name is the most important thing to him in that moment.
Antigone exhaled on a shaky breath, twisting her fingers through a stray lock of dark hair before making up her mind. She couldn't continue to entertain this conversation any longer, not when she knew she’s the one who would come out of it heartbroken. “Eric, you are clearly out of it and not thinking straight. I should leave.” She hastily started trying to flee, standing and rounding the end of the bed to head for the door.
“No, please don't go!” Chapman called out, shuffling to the side of the bed. It was only the thought that he might fall and injure himself further that stopped her where she was. “Please, stay.” Eric asked in a whisper, eyes pleading.
“No.” The response came out far faster and harsher than intended and the hurt look it elicited made her heart clench. Taking a slow shaky breath to compose herself before continuing “I can’t Eric, you aren't thinking straight right now. You will wake up in the morning and realise what big mistake you have made. I am simply saving you the embarrassment of having to talk yourself out of that situation.” Her tone gentle despite the immense effort it took to prevent her voice from cracking.
“I might be very high and in pain, but I am very sure I want to ask you out, Antigone!” He cried, frustration evident in his voice.
“You’re confused, Chapman.” She snapped back, shaking her head and turning to leave again before she could embarrass herself further.
“Antigone.” Eric pleaded, managing to gently grasp her wrist before she could get out of reach, effectively halting her departure. She didn’t shake him off but still didn’t turn to face him either. Because if she looked at that stupid soft, open face again she probably wouldn’t be able to make herself leave.
“Yes?“ Her reply quietly directed over her shoulder, barely more than whisper.
“I really do think you are amazing.” He breathed out, just as quiet, as if afraid that if he spoke any louder she really would run away. “You’re not only the most brilliant mortician I’ve ever met, but you might be the most wonderful person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.” Pausing, he let out a gentle huff of laughter before he continued, “Even if I think you might want to murder me most of the time.”
In the ensuing silence she contemplated fleeing, putting a stop to whatever this was. Because really it was just words, and people say things they don’t mean all the time. Why should this be anything different? But as she heard him settle back into his pillows she was struck by the realisation that he still has a hold of her wrist, cradling it as if it’s something precious. “If you’re not interested I understand and I would never force you into anything you don’t want…” His voice had a nervous edge to it despite the fact he was still obviously under the effects of the drugs. “But I think we have a connection and I’d like to- to take you for coffee or- something.” By the time he’d finished he sounded close to sleep again, his thumb sweeping rhythmically across her pulse point.
She turned just enough so she could watch his eyelids flutter closed. “I just, I’d like to take you for coffee sometime.”
“I'd like that.” She muttered to herself, assuming he wouldn't hear. But Eric stirred again, eyes opening a fraction as he turned his face towards her.
“Huh?”
She was sure she’d regret this. There was no way this would end well for her, and Antigone knew that. She’d already considered bearing her heart and soul to Chapman and look how that turned out. But she couldn’t help herself. Not in this moment at least. With his stupid warm hand clasping her wrist with such care. The sincere look in his horribly perfect eyes. The way his voice had trembled so delicately when he'd asked her, substantiating how much he seemed to genuinely want this.
“I- um- Yes, Eric. Why not? I’ll go on a date with you.” That earned her a light squeeze of her wrist and a happy smile. A small, pained laugh forced its way from her chest. “I don't think you will want to when you aren't high, though,” She added to herself again.
This time she was only met with a contented sigh from Chapman. She doubted he heard that last part. Allowing herself one indulgent moment where things weren’t awkward between them, where she could believe in the possibility that Chapman may actually want her in that way, Antigone let out a sigh. If only this could last. Cautiously removing her wrist from Chapman’s now slack grasp, careful not to stir him, she left the room.
She had to take a couple of minutes to collect herself before she headed back to Rudyard and Georgie. What was that? Eric couldn't possibly mean it. He'd wake up no longer under the effects of the medication and he'd regret everything he said. He'd awkwardly let her down gently and they'd both chalk it up to him not knowing what he was doing. She wouldn't hold him to anything he said. That wouldn’t be fair. It would still hurt though. Antigone took a deep breath, trying her best to ignore the not insignificant part of herself that desperately wished he really did mean it. A part that was fantasising about Eric admitting he meant everything he said and actually taking her out on a date. But it would do her no good to get her hopes up, not again.
---
The funeral went off without a hitch, which shouldn't be as surprising as it was, given it really ought to be the sort of thing they were capable of afterall. It was a well deserved success regardless.
After Rudyard and Georgie had wandered off, Antigone hung around to catch Chapman alone, steeling herself for the inevitable awkward conversation. Despite her best efforts to quash any such feelings there was still a small bubble of hope in her chest that maybe Chapman wouldn’t take it back. Like something inside her was insistent that this would work out how she wanted.
As she approached an only slightly downtrodden Eric, he seemed to light up, turning to Antigone with a brilliant, seemingly genuine smile. And god that really wasn't helping the situation.
"Antigone! I thought you'd gone home now that everything here was wrapped up."
" I-I just wanted to check in with you Chapman. After yesterday." She added trying to bring up the topic without actually being the one to do it. No, if he was going to break her heart he should have to do that himself at least.
"Oh, thank you. I'm feeling much better now! I can't thank you enough for all your work yesterday." He smiled cheerfully at her. Okay so perhaps he would need a bit more prompting to broach the issue.
"Not a problem. We did owe you anyway. And you wouldn't have been able to organise a funeral on the medication the Doctor put you on." She prodded, hoping to get this all over with.
"Ha, yes I suppose you're right." He chuckled before letting the conversation lapse into silence. Antigone was fed up. She let out a sigh and decided to try and be a bit more direct.
"Is there anything else Chapman? About yesterday?" He just frowned at this, that pinch of his eyebrows back, and shook his head.
"Uh, no. Not that I can think of. Thanks again though." Antigone's stomach dropped, cheeks flaring and eyes prickling with unshed tears. Great. She thought he would at least have the courage to tell her he was just high and didn’t actually mean any of it, sorry. Sure it would be humiliating and she would be heartbroken but that wasn’t the point, they would have eventually been able to semi move past it. She hadn't imagined he'd just pretend it never happened in the first place. And now she was angry again. How dare he? Balling her fists at her sides, Antigone straightened her back, and glared at him.
"You're a coward, Eric Chapman." She spat and then turned and fled back to her mortuary, not caring about the hurt, confused look she briefly glimpsed on Chapman's face. It served him right.
---
The next few days consisted of hiding in her mortuary, more than usual, and staunchly avoiding Chapman. She knew he came round at least three times. He knocked lightly on her mortuary door each time, calling her name tentatively. And Antigone ignored him each time. He never managed to hang around long, as inevitably Rudyard discovered him and swiftly ushered him out of Funn Funerals. He stopped coming back after the third time.
She naively hoped that would be the end of it. That from now on they would largely ignore each other, have as few awkward interactions as possible, and that is how it would be for the rest of their lives. Or maybe eventually Antigone would get over her broken heart and they could both commit to pretending it never happened. Either way, by the time Thursday rolled around Antigone had decided she had spent enough time locked inside. She made the decision to go and see a film, sure that depressing French cinema would make her feel better or at the very least be a pleasant distraction. This was her Island after all and she wouldn't let him stop her from doing the things she enjoyed. That would be pathetic.
It's an excellent plan, really. She was already starting to feel more like herself as she settled down into a worn cinema chair waiting for the adverts to start. That is until she was pulled from her reverie by someone plonking into the seat right next to her. She turned, ready to give this person a piece of her mind but the words caught in her throat when her gaze was met by those familiar blue eyes.
"Eric…" she heard the word leave her mouth though she certainly didn't instruct it to. It came out pained and hopeful all at once and seemed to stall Chapman for just a moment. But then he once again fixed her with a steely gaze.
"Antigone." She hated the butterflies that still fluttered in her stomach at that.
"What-what are you doing here?" She gritted out. Remembering she's supposed to be angry at him. She was angry at him.
"Well this is a public cinema," He replied glibly, looking cross. What right did he have to be angry? He's the one who shattered her heart! He’s the one who couldn’t even admit he’d made a mistake! Who would rather just pretend it didn’t happen!
"Well then why did you sit in the seat right next to me when you have the whole rest of the cinema to choose from?" She cried, maybe slightly louder than appropriate, but thankfully the adverts had started so hopefully Herbert won't hear whatever argument they were about to have.
"Ah, well that is because you have been avoiding me, Antigone. And I came here to demand answers!" During his angry whispering, Chapman had moved closer, leaning on the armrest between them.
"What do you mean?" Antigone responded dismissively, hoping outright denial would stop this line of questioning.
"Oh come off it Antigone, you know what I'm talking about," He replied accusingly. "I thought we were actually becoming friends and next thing I know you're calling me a coward and refusing to speak to me! I at least deserve to know what I've done to warrant such treatment!" And that's when Antigone snapped, pushing a pointed finger harshly into the centre of his chest.
"Don't play a fool with me, Chapman . You know exactly what you've done. Besides you are the one who said you didn't want to be friends!" She practically yelled at him. This seemed to cause him to pause for a moment.
"I have never said that!?" He was leaning into the finger she still had placed at his breast bone, looking equal parts confused and angry now.
"Oh good, we’re still pretending that conversation never happened. How convenient for you!" She raised an arch brow at him.
"What conversation?! What are you talking about?" He shouted desperately, throwing his hands in the air. He's a better actor than she thought, she'd give him that.
"I'm sure you bloody well know what conversation!” Antigone was seething now. "I knew you would take it back afterward but I thought you would at least be above pretending it never happened!” She pushed at his chest again, voice raising further but she no longer cared whether Herbert heard them. The whole village should know what a coward he is. “Do you know how horrible that made me feel? Poor creepy, pathetic Antigone Funn who no one will ever love. Of course Eric Chapman isn't interested in her." She mocked and was only slightly aware of the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as Chapman just stared at her, dumbstruck. "And now you're too god damn embarrassed to even admit you were wrong. That you never actually wanted to go on a date with me!"
They were both silent for what felt like eternity, Antigone breathing heavily and Chapman seemingly frozen in place. His stupidly perfect face, slack in shock. Good. He'd probably never been called out like that before. Well it would do him some good to be taken down a peg or two. She let out a breathless laugh and stood from her chair not in the mood to watch a film anymore. She stepped in front of Chapman and he looked up at her, still seemingly unable to form any words.
“Well that's fine Eric, you do whatever you wish, but we aren't going to be friends so kindly leave. Me. Alone.” This time he didn't stop her as she left.
---
It's over a week before she properly sees Chapman again. She hears from him many times before that though.
Everyday there was a fresh bunch of flowers left at Funn Funerals. No note ever accompanied them as Chapman always delivered them himself, likely to soften the blow of whatever wretched thing he was going to say to her that would fracture her heart even more.
Thankfully, for once, her brother was a saint. He had more than happily taken on the role of making sure Chapman didn't get anywhere near her, or her mortuary, at all costs. He was positively giddy with excitement when she asked him to do it. And thankfully didn’t feel any need to question her as to why she suddenly wished to staunchly avoid Chapman by any means necessary.
Conversely Georgie had been a complete nuisance. Antigone hadn’t told either of them about the whole debacle. Or whatever it was. And Rudyard of course was none the wiser. But Georgie knew something, or thought she knew something. Which was infuriating. Because now she kept coming up with ridiculous excuses to stop Chapman in the street to talk, leaving Antigone to jump into the shadows to avoid being seen. Or worse, on multiple occasions she had asked to borrow something or other of Chapman's and then insisted he drop it off at the shop when it was Antigone's turn to mind the front desk. Thank god for her shadows and Chapman's atrocious perception when it came to spotting her. A fact which shouldn't cause her heart to twinge.
Lord knows what Georgie actually intended to accomplish with these stunts, but Antigone could see right through them and frankly she had half a mind to fire Georgie. She would as well for the sheer cheek of it if she didn't know how much of a mess they would be without her. She threatened Georgie at least once but they both knew it was a lie. Even ignoring how crucial she was to Funn Funerals, Georgie is far too much like family for Antigone to actually follow through on any such threats. Instead she was forced to settle for making herself scarce whenever Chapman showed up, and continued to refuse to look at him.
All that is to say Antigone successfully avoided Eric Chapman for a total of eight days. In which she didn't feel any better, though she desperately wished she did. Instead she resolutely ignored the broken, shattered remains of her heart and focused solely on work. It was a relatively effective technique for avoiding having to acknowledge the hurt that he had caused. She just had to pretend to be okay until she was okay. 'Faking it till you make it' she believed was the term.
Antigone had just finished Mr Dibbens body, whose funeral was the next day. She let out a deep sigh and was just beginning to wonder if the black hole in her chest would ever close when she heard the distinct knocking of someone at the front door. Strange. She looked at the clock on the wall, and yes it was nearly seven o'clock at night. Odd, she wasn't expecting anyone. Though maybe Georgie locked the door behind her when she left and Rudyard forgot his key. If she remembered rightly he was planning on working in the archives this evening. Letting out another bone deep sigh, Antigone wiped her hands on her apron, hanging it on its designated hook and hurrying up the stairs before Rudyard no doubt started complaining.
In her rush, Antigone didn't think to properly look through the pane glass window of the door before she flipped the latch and hauled it open, a reprimand ready on her tongue. It died as soon as she saw who was actually standing on her doorstep. Eric Chapman. Of bloody course.
Immediately, she began to slam the door only to be stopped by an annoyingly strong, perfectly muscled arm pressing against it.
"Antigone. Please . I just want to talk to you!" And he actually sounded distressed. She couldn't think of a single reason why he should be though. Perhaps he was concerned she’d spread word of his cowardice and the whole island would turn on him. As if they would ever listen to her.
She would really like to just close the door on his stupidly handsome face but Antigone knows Chapman wasn't one to give up. And is also, annoyingly, much stronger than her. She was really not in the mood to have her fragile heart well and truly broken. Not that she ever would be. But what choice did she really have at this moment? So she resigned herself to more heartache, crossed her arms and set her face to stone, not willing to give away how much he affected her and nodded for him to go on.
He let out a sigh of what seemed to be relief before a flash of panic crossed his face as he seemed visibly unsettled by the cold look on her own. Good. At least it must have looked significantly more convincing than it felt. Given it appeared to have thrown Chapman for a loop, apparent in the way he stood there mouth opening and closing like a fish for almost a full minute.
Fed up with the awkward silence Antigone thought she might as well get this over with, “Well Chapman, hurry up and get on with it because I have nothing to say to you."
That seemed to spur him on because he straightened up, thrust a bouquet of flowers that she hadn't even noticed until now, at her and blurted out, "Antigone, will you go on a date with me?"
And that sentence alone sent a bolt of pain and longing through her. Because God how she wished he actually meant it.
“I might be pathetic but I don’t need a goddamn pity date Chapman!” Antigone hissed back in response, seething with rage now. How bloody dare he? "As if this wasn't already humiliating enough for me. Now you have to come here and rub in my face what a wretched loser I am and -and what a noble hero you are!" She spat out the last sentence, willing herself not to break down in front of him. "I'm sure the whole village will love that!" She put on a simpering voice, "'Oh did you hear Eric asked out that pathetic, weird, lonely girl? How kind of him! How generous !'" And through it all he was silent. He didn't even have the decency to try and deny it. Antigone rolled her eyes when it seemed he wasn't going to respond, and started making a move to close the door. Which at last seemed to jolt him out of whatever state of shock he had been in.
“I’m not asking you on a pity date!” He practically shouted at her.
“Good, then you can leave." She replied coolly, trying her best to shut the door but his stupid arm held it open with ease. She looked up to see… desperation in his eyes? But that didn’t seem right. Perhaps he was just that concerned about everyone seeing him as perfect, that he couldn't stand the thought she would think any less of him. Stupid Chapman and his ridiculous need to be liked by everyone!
“I'm asking you on an actual date!” His voice was still raised but had a pleading edge to it, his hand removed itself from the door and he dragged his fingers through his already dishevelled golden locks while Antigone eyed him suspiciously. He let out a sigh and his whole face seemed to soften as he continued, the next sentence coming out almost as a whisper, “because I actually want to date you, Antigone.”
He was breathing deeply now, like he had run a marathon, words tumbling out as if he was unsure when she would stop him but wanted to get out as much as possible before she inevitably did. “I don’t know what I did to hurt you, Antigone. But I am sorry. So sorry. Hurting you is the last thing I want to do and I will do anything to make it up to you. And I really mean that. All you have to do is ask.”
It took her longer than she cared to admit for those words to sink in. And she wasn't entirely sure she actually believed them. Though her traitorous heart still fluttered in her chest at even the thought that he genuinely meant it.
"You want to go on a date? With me?” She asked slowly “And not just because you feel guilty?" Wanting to be absolutely certain of his intentions and motivations before she let him get her hopes up any further. Because frankly Antigone wasn't sure she could recover from a second broken heart when the first hadn't even had a chance to heal.
"It's not pity." He stated firmly, eyes locked on hers. His face was serious now as if it was the most important thing to him, in this moment, that she understood. "Quite the opposite in fact. I honestly don’t know what I said while I was high, I mean I have some idea from your yelling at me, but I do know how I feel and what I want to say now so, I guess, here goes nothing.”
He drew a fortifying breath and looked at her will with breathtaking sincerity. “Antigone, I am ninety nine percent sure I am in love with you. And I am a coward alright!" He threw his hands up in the air, still holding the bunch of flowers in his hand, gardenias she registered. Antigone let a small smile begin to tug at the edges of her lips. God she wished she had a record of Eric Chapman saying those words. She didn't mind the butterflies that gathered in her stomach so much now, not when his expression turned soft and fond but still with that edge of trepidation. "But only in the fact that I haven't told you that till now."
And well, Antigone wasn't entirely sure what to say to any of that. The way he looked at her with such tenderness made her feel almost faint for a moment. Her silly fantasies about Eric admitting he meant what he said hadn’t prepared her for this. Though as it turned out maybe they weren't quite so silly. She allowed the strange giddy happiness she felt in her chest to build unrestrained now, certain that he genuinely meant what he said. And well clearly her feelings weren’t unreciprocated. Not when he looked at her like that anyway, soft earnestness in his eyes and that note of hopeful hesitation in his voice. Damn it he was rather good at apologies. Though he was also a dense nuisance of a man and for that she wouldn’t make it easy on him. He should know what he was getting himself in for after all.
Keeping her arms crossed, she leaned against the door frame in what she hoped was a casual and sultry way and let a smirk form on her lips. "Only ninety nine percent? It doesn't sound like you're very serious about this Chapman." She teased, voice low.
When he didn't reply for a moment, Antigone was convinced she had judged this all wrong. Again. But before she could take it back and flee to the safety of her mortuary, Chapman was stepping closer, his hand coming up to cup her face gently, reverently.
He let out a low, soft laugh, "You're infuriating, you know that?" But it didn't come out annoyed or angry, it came out affectionate and adoring, as if it was the highest compliment he could bestow.
"I have no idea what you could possibly mean, Eric." Antigone raised an eyebrow, not ready to give up on teasing, but leaning into the arm he now wrapped around her waist, the flowers pressing softly into her back.
"Here I am pouring my heart out, for the second time might I add, and that's all you have to say?" He was joking, she could tell by the teasing lilt to his voice, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, and that goddamn smirk creeping onto his face. She rolled her eyes fondly at him, hands coming to rest on his chest.
"Stop your complaining and kiss me, Chapman," She demanded, a warm glow forming in her heart at the dazed, pleased expression that took over his face before he leaned in. Just before their lips met, he stopped and Antigone barely restrained her frustrated groan, about to reprimand him. With their mouths a hairsbreadth apart Eric whispered, “So I’ll take that as a yes then? To the date?”
And Antigone would have scowled at him in response if he didnt make her melt inside with how sincere his questioning was, voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “Yes, Eric.” She sighed against his mouth. She had barely finished speaking when she felt his soft lips press gently against hers. He seemed to fill the kiss with all the passion and longing he'd been holding back for so long. Antigone could do nothing but reciprocate, trying valiantly to convey everything she had such a hard time saying. Everything she had kept to herself for far too long.
Far sooner than she would have liked, Chapman pulled back just enough to lean his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily and smiling ridiculously at each other. Antigone was vaguely aware that the flowers had been dropped on the floor at some point but she couldn't bring herself to care. Instead, she moved her hands to card through Eric's hair as she'd wanted to do for so long. Only adding to the adorable, dishevelled mess it already was.
"I was wrong." Eric panted after a moment, his awe-filled gaze not leaving her face.
"You usually are." Antigone teased back, unable to contain her content smile as her fingers continued to gently smooth through his hair and down to rest at the nape of his neck. "It's nice to hear you finally admit it, Eric, but about what specifically?"
He let out a soft, breathless chuckle that she felt against her lips. He didn't answer for a few seconds, evidently too busy stroking his thumb delicately across her cheekbone and staring adoringly into her eyes. Well she could certainly get used to this.
"I was wrong. Most definitely one hundred percent. " And what was Antigone meant to do but drag him back into another kiss. A kiss which she was certain told him exactly how she felt about that.
Again , though she was rudely interrupted by none other than the man she was trying to kiss senseless. Obviously she wasn’t trying hard enough she thought forlornly, as he pulled back leaving her wanting more. Luckily he didn’t go far though, just far enough that she could see the curious gleam in his eyes that probably spelled trouble.
“What is it now, Chapman?” She rolled her eyes, still rather put out that their kissing had been interrupted.
“So, what exactly did I say whilst I was delirious on pain medication?” He asked, that unfairly handsome smirk on his face. Antigone wanted to kiss it off.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She replied cryptically, because really he was just so easy to rile up. Case in point, the pout that now pursed his lips. A look that should not be as attractive as it was. And really how was she supposed to resist it?
“You didn’t really say anything that different from what you just said. Though a little less coherent.” She admitted, feeling her heart clench at the memory, though she was quickly reminded that there was no need, not when Eric was standing in front of her, his strong but gentle hands cradling her close to him. He was quiet for a moment, contemplative.
“And you thought I was pretending it never happened.” He finally said, sounding pained on her behalf.
“Yes.” She admitted, biting her lip as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. Instead of laughing at her misunderstanding, not that she really thought he would - not anymore, Eric kissed her briefly. Soft and painfully sweet.
“Well, as I already mentioned, I meant it. I was just too much of a chicken to admit it out loud, and well, sober.” He laughed self consciously, pulling her impossibly closer as if to reassure Antigone of his sincerity. And if she hadn’t been sure before there really was no doubting his sentiments now, so she couldn’t help causing him just a bit more embarrassment.
“You also said that I am very mean and that you dream about me.” She stated matter of factly, trying to suppress the grin from her face. Eric only stood there like a gaping fish for a few moments, eyes wide with alarm, before regaining his ability to form words.
“I-uh..I mean…” Well some words. Antigone allowed the smug smirk to quirk her lips, satisfied to have rendered Eric somewhat speechless in a much more pleasing context. It wasn’t long though before he clocked her expression and rolled his eyes, huffing.
“I was clearly confused.” He stated, cheeks a bright red. Antigone hummed, “Are you saying that to justify calling me mean or to deny that you have dreams about me?”
“Surely there is something to be said about how you being mean to me is what my dreams are made of?” He replied, his sheepish expression now replaced by that prince charming smile. Antigone simply rolled her eyes and pulled him in by the front of his shirt, their mouths nearly touching once more.
“Nice save, Chapman. Nice save.”
---
Fin