honeymood

anonymous asked:

Part 9 of Vegas Baby please!!!!!!!!!! 😩😩😩😩

Hahaha, I hope you enjoy the next part!  Here is Part 9, comin’ ‘atcha!

(Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Epilogue)


Curling up in bed, your stomach whirling from hunger, you slip in and out of sleep.  Tossing and turning, contorting every which way, your body finally gives in to the idea that no more sleep is needed.

And it’s still dark outside.

Huffing, you lob yourself out of bed, reaching for the remote to the television as you switch it on, the glare from the screen causing you to wince.

Mindlessly flipping thru the channels, you fall on to the TV guide that is endlessly scrolling the listings of shows currently in session.  Staring at the screen, your sight blurry and your chest heavy, you catch the date and time out of the corner of your eye.

What?

Lunging out of bed, you pick up your phone, pleading to yourself that your eyes are deceiving you.

I slept thru Friday!?

Realizing that it’s 4 am Saturday morning, you throw your robe around you, grab the apology note you penned for Spencer, and dash for your door. Stepping on something, you come crashing to the floor, moaning as you hold your butt bone as you curse thru your gritted teeth.

Wincing, you roll over and pull the culprit out from underneath you, unfolding the scarred up piece of paper to reveal a note from Spencer.

Y/N,

I figured you would want some time to yourself.  When you never came to the door today, I figured you just didn’t want to see me, and that’s understandable.  I hope you enjoy the rest of your vacation.

Spencer

“No,” you declare, picking yourself up and floundering for the note you wrote him.

“No, no, no, no, no!”

Rushing out the door, your hair wild and your robe haphazardly thrown on, you bound up the stairs, two by two, busting thru the door onto Spencer’s floor.  Chasing down his door, you bang on it, hoping to god that he opens up.

Pressing your ear to the door, you continue to bang, finally hearing a rustling, followed shortly by footsteps.

Your heart swelling as the doorknob begins to turn, the door is thrown open to reveal a very disheveled black man with his…something…grumbling in the background and inquiring as to who is “knocking the damn door down.”

“What?” the man huffs.

“I-um…I am so sorry.  I thought, uh…”

Trying to find your words, the man shakes his head and shuts the door in your face.  Slowly turning on your heels, you meander your way back to the stairs, disbelief mixing with a familiar urge to vomit as your mind tries to wrap itself around your current reality.

He’s gone.

Somehow appearing at the door to your suite, you look down at your trembling hand, the note hanging only by your thumb and pointer finger.  Watching it slip to the floor, you search for your hotel key, your body starting to shake with emotion as you realize you had forgotten it in your room in your haste to get up to Spencer’s.

And as you press your back to the cold door, sliding down until your butt hits the floor, you move your head from side to side as heaping sobs pour over your body, your shaking hands coming up to cover your face as you lay down, curled up in a ball, in front of your vineyard suite hotel door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dropping his bags by his door entrance, Spencer slowly traipses into his room, flopping down face first onto his bed, moaning as his body slowly sinks into his mattress.

I blew it.

Sighing, he turns over, staring at his bedroom ceiling as he thinks back on the events that lead him to his current predicament.

It was no secret that you challenged him intellectually, and he was more than happy to put up with the tone in which you argued if it meant getting your perspective on things.  He enjoyed his conversations with you, even if it meant that the team wasn’t always thrilled to have the two of you in the same room together after hours.

And then he woke up married to you.

Yes, he was shocked.  Of course, he was scared.  And sure, he was even worried.

But he wasn’t opposed.

And that was the difference.

You were completely opposed to the idea of being married to anyone, much less him.

But, the more time he spent with you, the more he found himself content with the situation.  Content, and even excited, at the mystery surrounding the idea of being married to you.

The more he thought, the more he had convinced himself it was the way it was supposed to work.  The two of you had a great deal in common: you knew multiple languages, you loved old films, you had a massive addiction to coffee, you had a passion for traveling…

But he realized that the more you had thought about the situation, the more you retracted from him, despite his attempts to get you to dust off your layers.

And he wanted so desperately to help you dust them off.

There was nothing wrong with you, you were just so closed off.  In his eyes, you were perfect, attitude and all.  But he knew you weren’t happy with yourself.

And he knew how that felt.

And he wanted you to know that you weren’t alone…

But as much as you pushed him away, he started to think that maybe you did need to be alone, if only for a little bit.  Just to get your emotions out, in check, and your mind wrapped around things.

So, he had decided to give you what he thought was what you were pining for…

Space.

No matter how much it hurt, and no matter how much it ached, and no mater how lonely he felt, he would give you the space you needed…if only as a last ditch effort to finally win you over.

Though he highly doubted it would do nothing more than the widen the gap between the two of you

And as he turned over and shifted underneath his covers, he shut his eyes and pulled the covers over his face, his eyes welling with tears just as his cell phone lit up on the bedside table, your name sprawled across the opening screen.

daesgatling  asked:

Oh nothing, it's just something married people do and I have nooooo idea where it came from. Just must've been an accident when I typed it on the keyboard. I'm pretty sure the cat jumped up as I was writing it.

Accident. Of course it was an accident.

You should know, beautiful, that I’m not a marrying man. I’m a man seeking to avenge the death of his true love. Marriage isn’t really part of the picture.