Work Text:
pov Claire
What a day. Jamie and I have a dinner at my cousin Joanna’s house to attend, at 6 p.m, but we both woke up in a terrible mood. Nothing different happened, just one of those days when you’re tired and everything seems to bother you. Even the way we breathe is making the other roll their eyes.
Unfortunately, we can’t reschedule. Joanna and I have been trying to see each other for months and every time we manage to schedule to meet, something happens. Either I have an emergency at the hospital or she needs to run to the restaurant — she’s a sous chef — to put out a fire. Not literally, thank God!
So, this time, I can not leave her hanging because me and my boyfriend are in a bad mood. Jamie and I have been dating for almost two years now, and we recently started living together. Needless to say we both have been stressed as hell. I’m a surgeon at the Mount Sinai Hospital and Jamie owns a whisky company. Both our schedules are crazy and the move in together didn’t help ease things.
The house is great, but we had problems with the structure, which means we had to spend more money than we had planned, a couple of our belongings were lost and our neighbors have been after us for a welcome dinner. They’re very sweet, but boy these people can’t read the room to save their lives. Let’s just say what was meant to be our dream, started as a nightmare. Saying we’re in a bad mood is an easy way to put it.
The cherry on top is, like I said, we work crazy hours and with the extra money we had to spend, we’re working even more so we barely had time to see each other in the last few weeks. We have been so tired that we sleep instantly when we get home. Having to put up with a dinner on our first day off together in weeks isn’t exactly what we expected. But I promised Joanna, so we’re going.
— Darling, are you ready? We’re gonna be late! — I yelled from the front door, the keys already in hand — C’mon, Jamie, we still have to stop at the bodega to buy wine.
— Why do we have to bring wine? Isn’t she a fancy chef? — he appeared in the hall, putting on his coat.
— Yes, but it’s rude to arrive empty handed. So even though she didn’t ask for it, we’re gonna take some wine. Fine?
— Fine!
Fortunately, there’s a bodega near our house, so we walk there before asking for a cab. We enter the place and I head directly for what I know will be perfect. I grab the bottle and when I turn, Jamie isn’t behind me. We meet near the register and he is holding a Cabernet. Oh, no.
— Darling, the wine. — I point to his bottle.
— What about it?
— They’re serving monkfish, it doesn’t match with red wine. I picked up some Austrian Riesling, it’ll be much better.
— But I don’t like the Riesling, Sassenach. When have ye ever seen me drink Riesling?
— Never. But can’t you let me pick and make an effort just this once? You’ll make a fool of yourself matching red wine with fish.
— Why don’t ye take yer white and I take my red? That way ye’re still causing a good impression on yer cousin and I still get drunk. Fine?
— Fine!
We pay for our bottles and come back to the street, looking for a taxi. Jamie says we should call an Uber, but Christmas is next week and the traffic is already chaotic. It would take much longer to wait for someone to accept our ride, so we make a signal for a cab and we’re inside in no time.
Ten minutes later, we’re still twelve blocks away and we barely moved.
— We should take a turn. — I say to the driver.
— Why? — Jamie asks.
— Because we’re getting nowhere if we stay here. So I think we should take a turn and choose a longer route, with less traffic.
— There’s no such thing as less traffic this time of year, Claire. Especially in this area. And we’re already late, so it’ll be much worse.
— Of course there is, we haven’t moved in the last ten minutes, there’s no way you really believe this is the best way to get there. Driver, please, can we take a turn?
— Of course, Miss.
He manages to take us out of the crowded avenue and takes a turn, going for the longer way. We drive for sometime before getting stuck in traffic again.
— Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. — I grumble and Jamie laughs — Excuse me, is this funny to you?
— Actually, a little.
— We’re stuck again, care to explain why this is funny?
— Oh, believe me, I’m hating this whole situation, but I told ye we shouldna have taken a turn. We were stuck there but we were already on Broadway. I ken ye’re concerned, Sassenach, but yer cousin’s house is on Broadway, so why have we turned? We’ll go back there anyways.
— Darling…— I take a big breath and look at him — I know she lives on Broadway, but the traffic on Broadway was hell.
— I ken it. But now we’re further away, which doesna make any sense, because we’re still stuck.
— Okay! — I turn away from him — Driver, would you stop here, please? I think we’re gonna walk there, it will do us some good. Fine? — I ask Jamie.
— Fine! — he responds, raising his hands.
We pay the driver and jump out. For some time, we don’t say anything while we walk down Broadway. These past few weeks have started to weigh on us. We’re stressed, we’re tired and we have barely spent any time in each other’s company. At this moment, it’s like I’m walking next to a stranger, like I don’t even know the man beside me.
— Can we take a break? It’s so cold. — he asks.
— I won’t worry about this, I’m not gonna stop now. We’ll be fine.
It starts to rain. Perfect.
My hair starts to drip, my shoes are soaking, my bag is getting wet too, same as my dress. The wind picks up and we left the umbrella at home. Really, just what we need.
pov Jamie
I love the rain. It’s freezing and we’re soaked til our core? Yes! But I love the rain. Believe it or not, with all the shit that happened today, the rain lightens my mood. It reminds me of home. Being a Scot in America is fun, but I’m always homesick. Rainy days are my favorite.
I look at Claire and she’s still rambling about something, but I stop listening to her. I get a déjà vu and suddenly it’s the day we met again, two years earlier. We were both Christmas shopping last minute and we went for the same item at the store, at the same time. We bickered for a while to see which one of us would take the thing home. Looking back now, I don’t even remember what it was, but I remember every detail about her.
If I’m honest, I didn’t even need the present that much, but she was in a bad mood and I thought she looked cute angry, with her rosy cheeks and her wide whisky eyes. I finally shoot my shot with her, saying I would let her have it if she let me buy her a coffee. She’s English, so I bought her tea and we’ve been together since.
We got out of that store and went for a walk at Central Park. It was cold, just like today and her nose became red the moment we stepped outside. We talked for hours, getting to know each other. At some point that day, it started to snow and, when we were passing beneath a tree, a bucket of snow landed in her hair. We laughed and she shook the snowflakes off her shoulder.
I was so hypnotized by her that the whole moment seemed to pass in slow motion. The way her hair moved to the wind, her eyes sparkling with joy, her big smile and her addicting laughter. It was all too perfect, so much so that was when we had our first kiss. I apologized after for being too forward but she pulled me back for another kiss and we finished the day with the promise of a proper first date.
My heart aches with the longing and I wish I could take us back then. Or to any other moment when we were just happy to be with each other. I know it’s a phase, but it’s been a very difficult few weeks and I miss her terribly. The sound of her voice pulls me back to reality.
— Shit! My shoe, damn it! It’s ruined now! — she exhales deeply — This is fantastic! No, perfect even! — she looked at me — What, you’re just gonna stay there, saying nothing? Why are you smiling? You know what? It doesn’t matter! Fine! I’m going because we’re late for dinner! God help my soul! — I hadn’t even realized we had stopped — You can stay put here in the rain if you want, but don’t leave it up to me to explain this to Joanna. Give me the wine, we don’t have all day. — she extends her hand to me, but I do nothing. I can see her getting redder by the second — Fine, then, bring it yourself your Cabernet! Jesus H. Roosevelt…
— SHUT UP, CLAIRE, AND MARRY ME!
— FINE! What?