6 comments/ 9739 views/ 6 favorites Something from Nothing Ch. 01 By: MadeTenderbyKisses This is not a quick-fix type of story, but if you are willing to stick around, I'll try to make it worth your while! I appreciate all comments and ratings! ****** The touch of her brother's hand on hers caused Violet to jerk her arm violently. She'd spaced out again. This time, her daydreaming had revealed itself in the way she toyed with the plastic wrapper of the headache medicine she had taken a few minutes ago, the scratching sound apparently disturbing the others in the small office. Looking down at the offending wrapper and then into James's face to meet his weak smile, she relayed the message Got it, sorry. She adjusted her weight in the stiff wooden chair, uncrossing and then recrossing her legs in an effort to encourage circulation. How long have I been sitting here? Violet glanced at the clock on the wall. 3:30pm? But we arrived at 11:00am! As if sensing her train of thought, her brother raised his voice when he said, "Well, thank you very much, Mr. Camp, my family and I are very grateful to you for having taken such good care of my mother's affairs. Please send any remaining forms to my house, and I will see that we both sign them." Standing up, shaking the old lawyer's hand, and offering his free arm to his sister, James concluded, "We will see you at the funeral on Wednesday." Violet, after saying her goodbyes as well and receiving a scratchy kiss on her cheek from the old family friend, accepted her brother's arm and let him lead her from the office, grateful to be moving after hours of paper-signing and listening to her mother's life in terms of money. They exited the office in silence, the very image of grieving siblings. Grieving orphans, Violet thought, realizing the fact for the first time. "You okay, Vi?" came the concerned voiced of her big brother. Knowing better than to assume she could pass off the cloud that had inevitably crossed her face to someone who knew her so well, she sighed, and responded, "We're orphans, James." He squeezed her hand as it rested on his arm, showing that he understood, but knowing that any reply would be empty or incorrect. Another wonderful feature of my amazing brother, she thought, smiling inwardly for the first time in the past four days, he always knew when to shut up. They left the old brick building occupied by R. W. Camp & Associates and made their way to Violet's car with the cold wind whipping around them. James opened the passenger door for her and she regretfully sat down, wishing they were close enough to walk home, while at the same time exhausted and freezing. As James pulled out into traffic, she noticed the troubled look on his face and decided to return the favor. "You okay? "Oh, yeah. I just want things to go her way," was the reply. Her way. Mom's way. Violet nodded even though James was not looking at her, and settled back in the seat. "I have the wake all covered, as far as the caterer and seating go. And Aunt Cathy said she wouldn't mind if we showed home movies, as long as we leave out any with her in them," Violet paused to huff a small laugh before continuing, "she said she doesn't want anyone to see her old hair styles. Oh, and some of the girls from work pitched in and got a really wonderful tea set for me for my last birthday, so I'll have that set up. Overall, I think that part of the day will at least go well." James, who had rediscovered smiling days ago, replied, "Thanks, Vi, I've had enough of Uncle Marty when it comes to the service, I really appreciate all that you've done." This time, it was Violet's turn to shut up, patting his arm and letting them fall back into a comfortable silence. Uncle Marty, their mother's only brother, had been fighting James on every point of the service, down to which flowers would be on the coffin to who would speak first. James tried to explain that their mother had had all of the speakers arranged in advanced, and it didn't take a genius to see that Uncle Marty was angry to have not been asked. James agreed to let him speak, but not first, his mother specifically asked him to welcome her loved ones, and so the bickering had begun. As James drove easily down the backroads of their town, Violet allowed herself to become lost in her thoughts once again, not caring whether they were thoughts of work or what needed to be done in her small home, just as long as they were not thoughts of the funeral, her mother, her father, or even herself. Minutes passed before James spoke again. "Cindy and Alfred are driving in for the funeral, and some of mom's college friends too." "Good, good...I bet Cindy's huge. How far along is she now?" "I think about seven months, right?" "Yeah, that sounds about right." "And I spoke with Dave Macklin, he's flying in from Houston." Violet did not hide the twinge of disdain in her voice, "Oh really?" James briefly pursed his lips. "Don't be like that, Violet," he said evenly, "Dave wasn't just Dad's friend, he was Mom's too." "I know, but he was a lousy friend to both of them," was her short reply. James, either lacking a response or choosing not to give it, sighed. Violet watched his eyes scan the lanes in front of them, as if a sign saying, "This way to change the subject" would pop up out of the bushes. After more minutes of silence, this time not so comfortable, James brightened, saying, "Oh! And Will Truit happens to be in the city on business, and said he would clear a couple days to come into town." Violet rolled her eyes at the window. "George William Truit the third," she drawled, mimicking a stuffy British accent quite unlike that of Will Truit. "He hasn't been in town for five days together since you two graduated high school, he hasn't seen Mom in years." "He saw her three Christmases ago when you were abroad, Little Miss," came James's curt reply, "he was my best friend in school and has remained a close friend to me ever since." James paused, tightening his fingers on the steering wheel before adding, "Sam and I are making him the godfather." Violet, already incensed that James would call her "Little Miss," a cruel pet name he only used when he wanted to call her something far worse, turned to glare at her brother. "What? I thought her brother Glen was going to be the godfather!" "No, Glen and Sam got into a huge fight last month, so she doesn't want him to be the godfather anymore. She and Will get along great, so she asked him, and he accepted. I didn't even know until a couple weeks ago." Violet stared open-mouthed at James. Great, she fumed, now I have to share my darling nephew with a total ass like Will Truit. Glancing at her, James softened his tone, saying, "Give Will a chance, Violet. He's grown up into a really great man. I know-I know he didn't treat your friend all-too-greatly..." Violet straightened her back, "Emily. And no, he did not. He dumped her a week after her sister died without any other reason than he liked some other girl, when really he just didn't want to deal with damaged goods." Violet shook her head as if Will were there to see her anger. "She already felt alone and then he went and just left her." "Vi..." James began, but she didn't let him continue. "He's an asshole." Taking a deep breath, James, with even more softness in his voice, pleaded, "that was over ten years ago, and he was a junior in high school. Some people just can't deal with stuff like that at an early age, and Will's not had it so easy himself, if you'd care to talk to him sometimes..." The look on Violet's face was a resounding, I'll pass, so James tried another route, "Besides, you're not even friends with Emily anymore, right? She stole your boyfriend, didn't she?" Violet clenched her teeth. "That's not the point." The car came to a halt outside of Violet's small cottage. She looked at the pale green paint and the butter yellow shutters as if they were beckoning her inside. Sleep. James, not yet getting out of the car, disturbed Violet's reverie, taking her hand in his. "I'll pick you up at nine o'clock on Wednesday, okay? If you want to come over for dinner tonight or anytime tomorrow, just call, I'll even come and get you." Right. Wednesday. Unable to stay angry with those deep brown puppy eyes, Violet hugged her brother for the first time that day and kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks, James, but I think I just want to be alone for a while." He smiled and kissed her forehead before opening his door and coming around to open Violet's. He handed her the keys to her car before giving her a proper hug and trudging off through the mushy, half-melted snow towards his own car. Violet waved him off before turning and slowly walking up the path to her front door. She carefully opened her mid-height wrought-iron gate, not wanting the squeak to make too horrible a sound, before shuffling to her door, kicking away as much mud and mush as she could from her precious cobblestone path. In her mind she thought of all the indulgent, pitiful things she would do tomorrow, from watching her mother's favorite romantic comedy, to spending half the day in her bathrobe. Violet didn't care. She had all day Wednesday to play the strong survivor, for a little while she was going to wallow in it. ******* Violet wasn't sure how long she had been awake, but part of her thought she never fell asleep. Wednesday. It's today. Eventually, she glanced at her alarm clock, surprised it was half past six and not half past three. No point in lying here. She threw off the covers and headed for the bathroom, flicking on the light with a cringe. Once her eyes adjusted, she cringed again. I look like a nightmare. Her dark brown hair looked black and practically stood on end, the effect of wallowing in her grief all day, and even though she had restrained most of her tears, her eyes looked puffy and red. She rubbed her hands over her face, running her fingers through her hair before adjusting her twisted pajama top. Shower. Breakfast. Hair. Make-up. Shower. Breakfast. Hair. Make-up. Repeating the mantra in her mind, Violet made her way into the shower after brushing her teeth and digging out a fresh towel. The hot water ran over her small frame and she had a wonderful, forget-where-I-am feeling that almost lasted a full five seconds. Shower. Breakfast. Hair. Make-up. Groggily, she washed her hair and then herself, shaving her legs and underarms. Stepping out of the bathtub, she regarded herself in the waist-high mirror. Her eyes seemed more alert and her hair was at least tame, despite dripping with water. Much better. Toweling off, she looked over the rest of her body, taking in her waist and the flare of her hips, how her breasts seemed a touch smaller, but more shapely. Curious, she dug out her scale from under the sink and stepped on. When the numbers flashed up, she couldn't help a snort of bitter laughter. Sure, now I can lose five pounds, but God forbid I want to shape up during bathing suit weather. Violet wrapped the towel around her hair and slipped into her robe, beginning to feel the cold, and padded into the kitchen to start the coffee. ****** At exactly nine o'clock Violet emerged from her house wearing her warm green coat over her new black dress, clutching a pair of black heels in her hand, and gingerly picked her way down the path, making sure to avoid some of the more visible patches of ice. James, looking for all the word like a chauffeur, stood holding the back door of his car open for her as she plopped inside. As they drove into town, Violet let Sam engage her in small talk, mostly about the baby and doctor's appointments, while mentally Violet was attempting to steel herself against the day's events. I'm going to my mother's funeral. I've known this day would come for some time now. Avoid Uncle Marty. Don't cry during the service. Cry in private at the wake. Keep Aunt Cathy out of the living room in case she sees the home movies. Do not thump Dave Macklin on the head. "Vi?" He brother's voice floated from the front seat. "We're here." ****** Violet opened the door, walked through, shut it, and pressed her back against it as if she were afraid of being followed by the problems in progress downstairs. Typical, she thought, the service was great but the wake is a shit storm. Having successfully made it through the service, Violet entered her mother's house and her childhood home, for the first time in a week, to find that the caterer had only just arrived, her Uncle Marty was already drunk, and her Aunt Cathy was crying in the living room. To make matters worse, the first person to notice her late arrival was none other than Dave Macklin, who, once he tried to hug her, got a very stiff hand shake and a very sharp glare before she ran to the kitchen to sort things out. That was an hour ago. As soon as one issue had been handled, another would arise, or a family friend would accost her with memories of her mother for long enough time to let something else go wrong, and at the first chance of escape, she took it, fleeing upstairs to her old room, now a small library. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her index finger and thumb, rubbing the little marks her glasses had left. Kicking off the heels she had changed into once inside, she slumped against the door, wondering if she had time to cry. As the first tear began sliding down her face, she realized life wasn't going to give her a choice. "May I?" Violet gasped, looking up into a pair of dark green eyes. I know that voice, but I don't know that face. His face had filled out, his dark hair shorter now, no longer the heart-throb wavy locks she had found too pretty to be called handsome. As she stared at him he pulled a handkerchief from the inside of his black suit and dabbed at the tears on her face. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were in here," she stammered, turning to leave, not sure if he intended to stand so closely. As she reached to grab the doorknob, he intercepted, gently taking her hand and leading her to one of the reading chairs. He must have been sitting in this one, she thought, noticing the way the high-backed chair would have blocked even someone of his height from being seen from the door. "Have a seat, Violet," his crisp accent floating over her with nothing but kindness and warmth. She noticed that he had left the handkerchief in her hand, so she busied herself with dabbing her eyes, nervous that her make-up had smudged, waiting for him to leave. Instead, he sunk into the chair next to her and picked up a glass from the table in front of him. Violet watched him sip the drink, smelling the brandy, remembering her father with a slight smile. Once it was clear he was not leaving, Violet sighed, and decided she had better say something. "Congratulations on your godfatherhood," she said, trying to keep her voice light. Tipping his class towards her he replied, "Cheers." After another sip he offered the glass to her, but she shook her head. "Not a drinker, Violet?" he asked with a wink, "I know it's been a while, but surely you're twenty-one by now." His face may be older, but that smile is just as annoying. "You know I'm twenty-seven, Will." For the first time since she first looked up, she made eye-contact with him. Of course he knew. She had the same birthday as his mother, minus thirty years. "And I just don't drink brandy." "I'd be happy to get you something else, I hate to drink alone." Violent thought about sending him down for a drink in order to get rid of him, but decided against it. He'd only track me down. I just want him to go away. For good. "No thanks, I'd hate to make you inconvenience yourself, George." Even though she wasn't looking at him, she heard him stiffen in the leather chair. "What's that about, Violet?" He asked. "Oh please, I may not have seen you for ten years, but I remember the last time I saw you." "So you're still caught up in all that? Jesus, that was ages ago!" "It doesn't matter. I remember--I remember the things you said. That you had no regrets about your behavior toward Emily." "Emily? This is about Emily?" What? "What? What did you think it was about?" "The last time I saw you, you don't remember?" The last time I saw you. It was a week after Will and James had graduated high school. Violet had been a Sophomore, and she could not have been happier that Will was going back to England to study business. Ever since the events with Emily last year, she had done her best to show Will that she thought he was a bastard. The graduation party was almost over and Will was getting ready to drive home, when he got into a fight with Violet, the way they usually did, something starting from nothing. He said horrible things, and then she said horrible things. Then he... "You tried to kiss me?" The memory seeped into her brain as she stared out the tall window across the room, as if the scene were playing against the gray winter sky. "Yes. And you slapped me." He paused, taking another swift drink. "As for that other business, with Emily, I have no excuses, at least none that you'll give consequence to, so why don't we just leave it in the past with the assurance that I've outgrown those flaws." "I'm sure," Violet muttered, with more than a twinge of sarcasm. He managed a small smile before sipping the drink and setting it down. "So how's your love life?" Violet gave a short laugh. That's it Will, ask me about my love life at my mother's funeral. Ignore the big stuff, go for the easy. You're so changed. Before she made a cruel response, she decided anything would be better than talking about the big stuff. "Same." Will leaned back in the chair with a smirk. "Same as in, shagging men worthless and leaving in the night?" Violet sighed again, shaking her head to herself. Don't give in to him. "Same as in, uneventful." When he didn't respond with a snarky quip, Violet look over at him. Will had settled in his chair and was staring at her with the smallest tilt to his head. He may be a bastard, but he can fill a suit. Why is he staring at me. Is he--is he picturing me "shagging?" "What?" Her voice held a bit more maliciousness in it than she wished to give away. Maintaining his gaze, he replied, "I am sorry about your mum, Vi." Her mouth fell open the tiniest bit as she stared at his blankly. A muscle in his jaw twitched while his green eyes remained steady, and she was confused why she couldn't just talk to him like any of the other guests that had said similar words to her minutes ago. She knew why. He reminded her of old times. High school, Mom's healthy days, when she had regained control over her life after the sudden passing of her husband. Will was there. "I--I--thank you," she eventually responded, dropping her eyes to the ground. Don't cry, Violet. Don't you dare cry in front of him. Standing up, she began to move towards the door. "I should really be heading back downstairs, the kitchen is probably on fire by now." Before she could move two steps, he was there, blocking the way. She stared determinedly into his chest. Don't look at him, Violet. Don't cry. God, he smells like...a forest. He slowly lifted his hand, letting her see it move towards her before sliding a finger under her chin and lifting it up. Her eyes dropped to the side, a rogue tear threatening to slip away, before her whole body tensed as his voice, so much closer now, came out in a slow whisper. Something from Nothing Ch. 02 Thank you for the warm welcome with your ratings and comments, keep them up! * "Ms. Emersen? Did you hear me? Ms. Emersen. Violet." Violet jerked out of her daydream to observe Mr. Parsons, another Account Manager, starring at her in confusion. What did he want? Are we sharing a project? Thinkthinkthink. Got it! "Mr. Parsons! Yes, I'll have the Smithfield file brought over to you as soon as we are done with it." This seemed to work, and an easy smile swept across Mr. Parson's face as the man nodded and left her office. Violet's smile, however, dropped as soon as her door shut. The energy of a Violet Emersen smile just could not be spared right now. Pressing the intercom button on her phone, she heard the chirruping voice of Amanda, her assistant, pick up the line. "Yes, Violet?" "Amanda, would you mind telling the art department to send a copy of their proofs to Mr. Parsons in addition to us?" "Right away, anything else?" "Do we know when the server is coming back online?" "I.T. is still working on it." "Ugh, fine. Coffee, then, since that means you are probably not too busy." "Haha, right you are!" Violet clicked her "Refresh" button erratically, hoping her impatience would inspire the often malfunctioning server to spirit back to life. Without e-mail she was half lost. Rolling her eyes, she picked up her phone, deciding to at least check her personal e-mail with the hopes of occupying her time. By the time she had deleted the spam and responded to a few of the shorter messages, Violet heard a quick knock on her door, followed by Amanda with two mugs of coffee. The petite blonde, always smiling, or at least smirking, set Violet's coffee down in front of her along with a muffin, before sitting down in front of Violet. "What's this?" Violet asked, nodding at the muffin. "It's a muffin. Banana nut" "Why?" "Why what?" "Why is it on my desk?" "Because you need to eat it. Coffee is neither breakfast nor lunch, despite the way you employ it everyday." Violet sighed and sipped her coffee. "Thank you," she added after a few moments. "Don't thank me. Eat it. I have barely seen you eat for a week. I'm sure you stuff yourself with Ho Hos and Ding Dongs at home, but I need to see you eat something." Violet glanced at Amanda and saw the determination in the girl's eyes. She was twenty-two, only four years younger than Violet, yet her she was mothering her, and winning at it too. Remembering the five pounds dropped as of last Wednesday, Violet began picking off pieces of the large muffin and chewing them slowly, watching as Amanda hitched up her chin in a complete "I Won" gesture. "You know," Amanda began, leaning in to rest her elbows on Violet's desk, "If you let me fix you up with some of the guys I know, I would have a spy in your house to tell me all about your Ho Hos and Ding Dongs and we wouldn't have to go through this all the time." Violet could not help but to roll her eyes again. "Thanks Amanda, but I really don't have the time..." "Don't pull that with me Violet. I know it has only been a week or so," Amanda hesitated, shifting in her chair as if bracing herself for impact, "but you no longer have to look after you mother. As far as I know, you have not taken up any pottery classes or piano lessons, so the time you were spending at her house is now free. You need someone, Violet, I can tell." Violet felt like glaring at Amanda, but she knew she was just being tough out of love for her. The two women had worked together for two years now and were more friends than boss and employee. Despite that, however, she had no desire to go on a blind date, especially with some of the guys Amanda was always trying to fix her up with. "Mandy, I know you care about me, I just don't feel like I 'need' someone." "How would you know? Your last serious boyfriend was back in college and that was only because he was abroad for a year and you didn't want to break up with him through e-mail. Maybe if you tried to meet more guys, you'd see that they can be nice to have around. Just look and me and Tom!" Amanda's smile brightened at the mention of her fiance, which made it impossible for Violet not to smile as well. "Ok, look. How about you give me one more month to finish wrapping everything up with mom's house and then I will let you set me up with a guy that I approve of." Violet had to practically yell the last few words, Amanda's excitement had declared itself in a resounding squeal. "Yay! You got it! One month, I am so excited!" Amanda bounced in her seat a few more times before settling back with a fresh "I Win" face. "Okay," Violet announced, chewing the last of the muffin, "break is over, back to work." Amanda smiled, picking up some files from Violet's desk and heading back out to her own area. Once she was gone, Violet was finally free to slump back in her chair and close her eyes, wishing it were 4:45pm and not 10:45am. I just want to be home. Why did I decide to come back to work so soon? It's Monday for pete's sake! Violet admonished herself for thinking she was ready and willing, but knew that working beat the hell out of being home alone. Oh well, dinner with James tonight. If Sam didn't threaten to hide the sonogram picture from me if I didn't come, then I would head home. Jerks. Violet swept the crumbs from her desk and lap, drained her coffee, clicked her mouse angrily and started her work. ****** Six o'clock found Violet changed and cheery on the doorstep of James and Sam's suburban two-story dream house. As a popular Real Estate Agent, Sam had come into her marriage without needing James' lucrative business income. Due to this fact, whenever he was asked, James assured with a smile that this was all the evidence he needed that she really liked him. Violet rang the doorbell, anxious to see the new sonogram picture, and was greeted by Sam in a sky-blue apron, her swelling belly proudly displayed. As they made their way inside, Violet hugged her sister and shrugged off her heavy coat. "How are you feeling? How was the appointment? Where is the picture!" Sam smiled, answering the first two questions quickly, adding, "the boys have the picture in the den, I think they are toasting on behalf of all men everywhere." "The boys? Who else is here?" "Will Truit? James's friend from high school? He is staying in town for a while." Violet all but groaned. Will Truit was the last person she wanted to see. After their run-in last week, she was convinced that he had kissed her in order to get revenge for the slap, which she thought completely unfair. Her anger at finding herself less disdainful towards him only infuriated her more, destroying her attention like a wildfire until she vowed to stamp him out of his mind. Part of her wanted to throw a tantrum, the other just wanted to leave. Unfortunately, the part of her that wanted to see a picture of her growing nephew won, and she slowly made her way to the den while Sam headed back towards the kitchen. As she entered the den, Violet observed the two men standing side-by-side, their backs to her, admiring a black and white photograph as if held the meaning to life. James, slightly shorter than Will's easy six feet, clapped a hand on his friend's back, clutching the picture with the other. Violet grinned at the proud look on her brother's face, and was not even bothered by Will's apparent happiness, after all, he was the godfather, like it or not. Sensing her presence, James turned and greeted his sister, hugging her close and clasping an arm around her shoulder, the picture proudly pressed up to her face. "At last, the godmother has arrived! Vi, would you look at my son? Isn't he getting huge? Six months and he looks like a real person!" Violet laughed with her brother, taking the picture from him to study it at a reasonable distance, her heart swelling with love at the sight of the blurry figure. "Good evening, Violet," came a voice from over her shoulder. "Evening Will," was her light reply, her eyes not moving from the picture. She gleaned more details about the doctor's visit from James before Sam called them into the dining room for dinner. Since discovering her pregnancy, Sam had released her properties and devoted herself to Mom-to-Be Training, decorating the nursery, taking classes, and learning to cook like a gourmet. After her first attempt to help, Violet was banned from the kitchen, now a simple taster like James. Tonight was no different with a splendid assortment of dishes laid out before them, choice wines, and the promise of cheesecake. Violet settled into her chair, not noticing that Will sat next to her until he passed the green beans. "Eat your veggies, Vi," he teased, "we want you to grow big and tall." Violet accepted the bowl with as pleasant a smile as she could manage. Will half-smiled in return, a mischievous spark within his green eyes. I can't believe women swoon over an accent like that. No matter, I refuse to let him ruffle me, he is just stuck in the past. I am moving forward. We are adults. Moving forward. After her small display of strength, Will seemed to give up his games, opting to glance at Violet periodically through the night, which proved to be both distracting and annoying as all hell. Dinner managed to continue smoothly until James mentioned the unthinkable. "Violet, why don't you take tomorrow off and have a day with Will? You guys have some catching up to do, and Sam and I are too busy to entertain him." "Ouch, James, I see how it is," Will laughed. Violet stared at her brother in horror for what seemed like an hour. In reality, it could have only been a second or two, because James quickly shot her a stern look that declared, "do this for me, Little Miss, or we'll replace the godmother too," and she snapped on a smile. "Okay, I suppose I could do that. Work is pretty useless right now anyway, our server keeps crashing." "Excellent," Sam chimed in, "I'll drop him off at your place, say, around 10:00am?" "Perfect," Violet nodded. "Perfect," Will added with a smile. ****** Violet woke uncommonly early, spending an hour at the gym before returning home to shower and make herself presentable. An outsider would have assumed she was getting ready for a date, but Violet knew better. Something about Will always made her uneasy about herself. He was too put together, too handsome, too crisp. Even when she was younger, he made her feel frumpy and small. Her goal today was to show him how excellent her life was, take him to all the local places they enjoyed as kids, and then take him back to her brother's house to rot. She would be breezy and casual, resisting his gibes and even, depending on how sincere he seemed, try to be his friend. Violet was surprised when she first thought of the idea, but after discussing it hypothetically with Amanda, she realized she didn't want to be the sort of person to discount someone she technically didn't know anymore. Violet repeated this decision to herself as she dressed in a purple sweater and grey slacks, busying herself with little chores around her home as the clock approached ten. As soon as her hall clock began to chime, Violet heard a knock at the door. Pulling it open, she found Will alone on her doorstep, a plate of brownies in one hand, the other busy shaking snow out of his dark choppy hair. Violet stared at him for a moment, scanning the odd picture he made, holding the plate, wearing a black sweater and jeans. Until that moment, Violet had only seen adult-Will in a suit. Now, he almost looked like the catalog model version of his younger self. She was about to laugh when Will interrupted her thoughts. "May I come in? It is still snowing out here." "Yes! I'm sorry, come in." She opened the door the rest of the way, allowing him to stamp his feet and enter her home. "Was Sam in a hurry?" "Yes, she had more brownies in the oven." "Ah, that explains a couple things," Violet said, smiling at the plate. "Oh, yes, these are for you." "Thanks, I'll just put them in the kitchen and then we can leave." "Leave?" Will asked as she walked into the next room, "Where are we going?" Violet returned from the kitchen with a puzzled look on her face. "I thought I would take you around to all the places you used to love." "Oh, we don't have to, James and I sort of had a day last week." "Oh, right." Damn. James took my idea. "Well, what would you like to do?" she asked. "Not sure. What were you planning on doing today before I was forced on you? And don't say work, even if it's true." The spark was back in Will's mossy green eyes as he leaned against the large doorway to Violet's small living room. "Well, today I probably would have done some things around the house...maybe clean the fireplace or garden" A crease formed on Will's forehead as his eyebrows knit together. "Garden?" Violet assumed a confused look as well. "Yes, garden, as in flowers and soil and water." "Did I mention it's snowing outside? Oh, and we are about five months from Spring." Violet smiled, "No, I have a greenhouse. It isn't much right now, but I keep some potted plants in there so they are ready once the ground thaws." Will considered her for a moment before giving a solid nod of his head, "Right. That's what we're doing. First the fireplace, then we garden." Before Violet understood what he said, he turned into the living room, stripping off his thick sweater, revealing a blue t-shirt. Tossing the sweater over the back of one of her chairs, he squatted down in front of her fireplace as if he were just hired for the job. After a minute of silence, he turned around, an impatient look on his face. "Are you going to help or what?" ****** Two hours later, Violet was cleaning up their small lunch, smiling to herself at Will's complete inability to clean a fireplace, despite having four in his childhood home. Figures. He had at least three housekeepers. I wonder if he has a housekeeper of his own at home? Most likely, otherwise his clothes wouldn't smell so good. "So," came his voice from behind her, "now we garden?" "Now we garden," she confirmed. "Look, we really don't have to do this, I can do it tomorrow." Maintaining a look of serious professionalism, he curtly replied, "Nope, I want to garden if you don't mind." Ten minutes later they bundled up and headed out the back door into Violet's winter garden. Even covered in snow, it was beautiful to her. The bare limbs of her trees cast elegant silhouettes in the afternoon sun, with the low foliage covered in a fresh layer of snow. Violet led him across the small garden to a building that looked like a plexiglass shed, opening the door and quickly ushering him inside. "Lord, Vi, this is amazing!" Will exclaimed, staring at the plants around him, even though they were less than twenty in number. Violet laughed, glad he was easily impressed, and set him to work weeding a few of the beds while she inspected her more precious seedlings. After ten minutes, Violet began humming to herself while she fed her plants, glancing at Will to make sure he did not weed any of her younger shoots. Once again, it was Will who snapped her out it. "So let me get this straight," he began, continuing to pluck little blades from the soil, "If I were not here, you would be out in this house, by yourself, humming to your plants all day?" Violet arched an eyebrow. "Yes. Is that odd?" "No," he replied slowly, "I just expected...I don't know, nevermind." "No, I want to know. What did you expect? That I would be out on the town, at a bar or something?" She laughed, knowing that was the farthest image of herself that anyone who knew her would guess. Than again, Will didn't really know her, so perhaps he did expect that. "Well, I just," he stopped working, turning his face to stare at her briefly, "I expected you to lie. I thought you would try to show off with some exciting escapade to show me how great your life turned out. I never expected you to really let me help you do something." Violet stared into the leaves of a plant she had been trimming. She had thought about lying, but even then she could not think of anything worth lying about. Seeing Will's confusion over her honesty, she decided not to throw away their past after all, but, at least for herself, forget the petty feelings and treat him for what he was: a friend from a long time ago. "When mom got diagnosed a few years ago, she bought me this," Violet began, motioning to the walls around them, "She said when the winter comes, we have to remember the green times, hold them close. Otherwise, we won't recognize them when they come back." Violet was astonished that she did not feel like crying. Instead, she felt like she was telling any other story about any other person to him. "She wanted me to have something growing and blooming to take care of, while I took care of her. After a while, coming in here felt like being with her when she was fresh and vibrant. I still feel her in here, even in the winter." Violet smiled to herself, touching the soft leaf in front of her. She heard Will step behind her, reaching out to touch the same leaf, rubbing the plant between his thumb and index finger, pressing his chest to her back. She felt the heat from his body transfer to hers as if she had just been plugged in to charge. She closed her eyes to absorb the feeling, leaning back into him just a little bit to set her balance. So focused was she on his heat that her hand slightly jerked when his thumb began caressing the back of her hand, his fingers wrapping around her hand to graze her wrist. She opened her eyes to watch his hand touch her there as his fingers made small circles on her skin. Slowly, grasped her wrist, pulling towards him until her entire body turned around, leaving her to stare at his chest just as before. This time, however, she meant to look up. His mouth covered hers in a perfect fit, pushing into her lips until she was backed into shelves of potting mix. Her arms made their way around his neck while his snaked under her coat and around her waist. His hands splayed along her lower back, massaging the flesh there while his tongue probed her mouth, enticing her to let him in. She moaned softly, granting him access. Their bodies pressed together, trying to feel each other through the layers of clothing. Slowly, he licked and dueled with her tongue, leading her back into his mouth until it was his turn to moan. "Violet." "Will?" "I think we should go inside before we ruin your plants," he replied, running his fingers through her dark hair, pushing stray locks from her face. Violet smiled, nodded, and slid away from him after a final brief press against him. Once she finished a touch here and there, the greenhouse was ready for another winter night, and she braced herself for the cold walk back to the house. The crisp air hit their flushed cheeks like a bucket of ice water and Violet felt her chest tighten from the cold. Will swore next to her. Whoops, forgot to warn him about that. Will walked ahead of her, opening the back door and pulling her through, wrapping her in his arms as soon as the door shut. She thought to protest, but his hands began removing her coat and all focus was lost. They continued their kiss, stumbling into her living room where they unceremoniously tripped to the floor in Will's attempt to kick off his shoes. Violet, glad she landed on Will instead of the other way around, laughed into his mouth while he groaned in pain. "Are you okay?" She chuckled. "Well, I will be," he smirked, returning his hands to her lower back where bare flesh was now available. Violet whimpered at his touch and arched her back, not having such an intimate touch in a long time. Her movement pressed her lips harder on his, causing a new moan to come from underneath her. Will swept his hands around her back before running them up her sides and below to her stomach, slowly moving in circles, causing her to flex her back and push her hips into him. Something from Nothing Ch. 02 Her hands kept her balanced over him, one on each side of his head while she took a much needed breath. "Oh no," he said, lifting up to run his tongue along her jawline, "we are far from over, Violet." Sitting up, he pulled her to straddle his lap while he lifted her sweater and undershirt over her head, leaving her in a pale pink bra and grey slacks. His hands supported her back as he slowly leaned her backwards until her back arched and her head fell, giving him ample room along her collarbone to trail steamy kisses and quick licks of his tongue. When he came to the top of her bra, he laid deeper kisses along her fresh, periodically swiping his tongue under the material to elicit small gasps from Violet. His hand moved up, successfully unlatching her bra and pulling the material away from her. He marveled at her breasts as they heaved in front of him. Her thighs tightened against his side as he ducked forward to lick on stiff pink nipple, igniting a loud moan from its owner. He licked its twin before sucking it into his mouth, pulling the sweet morsel until it almost popped out, but enveloping it again at the last moment, beginning the pull all over again. While she was lost in his attention to her breasts, Violet ground herself against his lap, feeling his erection press against her. He growled into her chest, slightly bucking his hips into her, leaving no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. She lifted herself up, now grabbing his sweater and shirt and pulling them over his head, separating him from her swollen nipples for the briefest of moments before his mouth returned. Now with free hands, he massaged and tweaked one breast while the other received the attention of his mouth, and meanwhile, his other hand slid down her stomach to unlatch her slacks, pulling the zipper down on tooth at a time. When his hand glided over her mound Violet sat bolt upright, unconsciously pushing his head between her breasts while she focused on making sure his hand found all of the right spots. "Oh, Jesus," she moaned, when his index finger finally probed into her melting wetness. "Actually, the name's Will," he breathed, his eyes briefly closing as she pressed again and again on his growing shaft. Violet clutched his strong back, running her hands all over him while he gently toyed one finger up and down her slit. He kissed her neck and sucked her earlobe before whispering, "When was the last time someone touched you like this?" Violet groaned. Too long. Never? "I can't remember," she moaned, arching her back and bucking her hips each time his finger grazed her clit. He smiled. "Well, let's make sure you don't forget this then." Violet whimpered and then screamed into his neck as he increased his speed, focusing more time and pressure on her sensitive nub. She rode his hand, bucking her hips against him while he alternately kissed her and squeezed her now puffy nipples. She felt a warm tingling in her stomach that quickly radiated to her back, legs, brain, thighs, and core. She pushed forcefully against his fingers as he whispered into her ear, urging her to come on his hand, asking her what it felt like to have his fingers touching her. When she felt the bolts of pleasure begin to build, she stiffened, looking into his now hazy eyes before she arched her back and let the orgasm claim her body, pushing her hips off of his lap while he continued thrumming her clit and kissing her chest and neck. As she began to relax against him, he slowly slid his hand back up her stomach, trailing her wetness along her skin before taking a taste for himself. "You're delicious, Vi," He murmured, stroking her hair with his other hand while she began to blush.