a girl is a gun

“of course i was! i haven’t touched anyone else before you.” he knows this. they’ve been here before; they’ve had this argument before. the frown kept any other feeling – whatever this heavy, sinking feeling was – from betraying his indignant tone. defensive, he crossed his arms over his chest, justification and excuse pouring out, one after the other. “i know. you’ve been here for me – and i’m grateful for that, i am – but what you’re proposing isn’t even the same thing! it’d be more like if i came over yours and saw another man’s clothes under your bed, which i have. and i’ve never said anything about it.” his jaw tightened at the thought. “we can still sleep with other people. i’m not your boyfriend, matilda. we never said we were exclusive.”

“are you actually comparing a underwear to a few polo jersey’s?” with a shake of her head tilly let out a sigh turning away from him. her mind filling with thoughts of how right he is, they aren’t together, they aren’t exclusive, he isn’t her boyfriend. she tried to desperately push down the the part of her that was disappointed that they weren’t, the part of her that felt like they were. had it all really meant nothing? “well then forgive me for being stupid and thinking we were on the same page.” it’s what she deserved was it not? to think that there was something worth trying for. letting out a frustrated groan she swiftly discarded her own pair of underwear, tossing it towards the bed. “there add it to your fucking collection, arthur.” turning out of the room she made her way down the stairs only pausing to grab the decanter of whiskey and made her way out to the patio. 

     Cecilia knew of Tilly to a degree. Not by much, but she knew something. If Tilly is as intense as Catherine was when Cecilia first met her, she wouldn’t know what to do. Cecilia knew Art and Tilly are friends, and figured that she was a good person to have and keep around. “I don’t have anything particularly in mind. Maybe something cute, so no one can say I died while being away,” she answered, hoping her joke would make Tilly laugh.

“Define cute,” a hint of a smirk playing on her lips. “Do you mean cute like the public will think you look like a pretty perfect princess or can we move to mini skirts and shirts so small they’re really just bras?”she meant it literally too. tilly knew better than to think everyone was comfortable dressing the way she was, but she also wasn’t quite sure how to read Cecilia yet. “You don’t have to worry about people think you died though, but if you want to make a statement I can make that happen.” 

“it’s just logistics, in the end of the day. planning a wedding is like planning any other event,” she has organised treaties and trade deals as well as charity galas, catherine was determined not to let a mere wedding upend her life. “i spoke to her about a potential wedding for my previous engagement, actually.” she said lightly, a strained smile spreading across her lips. “things are moving way too fast for it to be this one… i wasn’t about to tell everybody about it, you’re the first person to know!” she paused a little, thinking about the truth of the statement, before adding hastily. “well, the second, actually. anyway – we’re going to play it off as if we’ve dated a bit and then it’s a whole whirlwind proposal and marriage… i know it’s a bit of a farce, but will you please try not to give us away? for my sake. i think that we’re determined to make this work.” catherine shot her sister a weak smile, knowing full well that she might reject it outright. 

she wasn’t a hopeless romantic by any means. most days she doubted that love even existed or was possible, still tilly couldn’t help but frown at how her sister treated a wedding as another party. maybe she was self obsessed, but even if she was being forced to get married against her will it would be her day and how she wanted it.  “it’s not though, it’s a day all about you and your future, you don’t get a break like you would at others but i know better than to push it.” bringing the vodka to her lips she nodded, only a little smirk crossing lips before her sister paused. “wait-who did you tell already then? mother? she doesn’t count.” she found the faking disgusting, hated when she had to do it, wasn’t a fan with having to pretend for others. still she sighed in defeat. “i won’t give it away, although if you decide that you need more stress and decide to marry me off that might change.” downing the rest of her vodka she set the cup down leaning back into the couch. “i’ll play along, my lips are sealed unless it’s an opinion. you do know i’ll raise hell if you don’t at least let me help you pick a dress. don’t even get me started on bridesmaid’s dresses.” 

he knew what the object in question was by her tone, and he froze in place. they had agreements before; unspoken, in the way it usually was, and some more explicit. he wouldn’t push for another threesome, for example, and he wouldn’t exactly flaunt who he was sleeping with, either. almost cautiously, as if walking into landmines, he stepped out, face towel in hand. “no one you know. i’d forgotten they were there.” he walked over and gingerly picked up a piece of lace, having to regrettably throw it in the nearest bin. “it’s nothing. let’s have dinner, darling. don’t worry too much about it.”

“no one i know? so it’s not mine, it’s not your wife’s, you’d forgotten they were there. were you serious about that whole respecting the sanctity of marriage or just fucking some leggy brunettes the whole time?” she didn’t mean for her voice to raise as it did in just the slightest way, but it did. she knew it wasn’t her place to get mad. it still didn’t stop the way jealousy seemed to seep through her at the thought. “ or worse- after everything in just the last couple weeks-” tilly stopped herself, running her hands through her hair. she was not going to cry because of him again this year. “art, do you hear yourself? you really want me to order us dinner, forget about it despite the fact i’ve been doing everything i possibly can to make sure you’re okay. really? i’m not asking for much to not see this stuff! it’s really the bare minimum. or should i start coming over in a different man’s shirt?” 

“well i’m not going for anything in the way you think – we’ll be in charge of separate things, and we’ll be each others’ consorts, that’s all.” catherine would continue, perhaps unnecessarily, in explaining how the division of powers would work, and the how it all will go forwards, but her sister’s enthusiastic words immediately derailed her train of thought. “what-” the vodka laid forgotten for a second, and with every word that came out of matilda’s mouth, the elder stuart found it pertinent to take another generous gulp of her drink. “you know it wont be just me planning for the wedding, right? it’ll be the offices going back and forth, especially with him being lutheran. at least he already agreed to letting archbishop gregory to do the ceremony, so that quite limits the choices… i’ve started talking to renée about it, but nothing concrete yet. just that we’ll need two dresses, one for the ceremony and one for the reception.” 

“just because you’re in charge of different things doesn’t mean that you won’t still be sovereign over two countries, i pay enough attention to know that.” really, she’s surprised that her sister hadn’t done something like this before now that she was speaking it out loud. “it doesn’t matter if you have a whole team of wedding planners it still doesn’t just come together with a snap of a few fingers.” the frown only crossed her lips for a split second, before disappearing. “right, you would of course tell your stylist before your sister that you were planning a wedding. still, just because you have a stylist doesn’t mean anything with actually making one, just knowing what flatters you and your comfortable in, whatever great. a killer dress, with a statement and two dresses at that it takes time energy. details take that time and you have to start thinking about that one sooner rather than later!” 

that he was comfortable enough to have her around while he was shaving spoke volumes of their trust. they moved around each other with surprising fluidity that arthur would have been taken aback by it had he the time to contemplate the matter. “it’s my chef’s day off – what are you planning on getting?” he asked, doing the last stroke, dragging metal against foamed skin before washing his face. her question caught him as he was patting himself dry, and he raised a brow in confusion, though she could not see it. “what do you mean? i don’t know – just look, i suppose.”

she had a answer for dinner on her lips, but it was forgotten too busy focused on the lace that had caught her eye. as she pulled the object in question out, she quickly threw the bra and underwear back away, albeit this time not under the bed. “arthur, whose are those?” she tried to make it come out as blank as possible, ignoring the jealousy that was bubbling inside her. she’d always been the jealous type, probably due to some trauma she’d rather ignore. after this long though, tilly thought they’d at least gotten past this point. that this argument had already happened between them so it wouldn’t again. and even if she hated to admit it, maybe a part of her had thought for just right now with everything going on and his marriage, it was just her. 

she had enough sense to not talk too much politics with her youngest sister, the differences between them are obvious enough and politics fall right dead centre. catherine shook her head, smiling a little at her sister’s remarks, she should really know better than to hope matilda might agree with her choices. “theodor oldenberg, the crown prince of sweden – we’re… very similar, which might lend to many arguments regarding logistics and big choices… but we had a meeting with the lawyers and we’re making good headway in the proposal.” she bit her lip, unable to really gauge how her sister would take the next piece of information. “the timeline is truncated, i knew that he wanted a marriage and an heir before his ascension to the throne – so i negotiated for the wedding to be some time early next year.” 

“the crown prince of sweeden?” she stared for just a moment taking another sip of vodka as she processed the information. “holy shit, catherine two countries?! you’re going for two countries?” she brought the vodka to her lips taking it back. she’s not sure why it surprised her but it did, she should have seen something like this oming from her sister. “next year?! catherine we have to start planning now, i know we have money but do you know how long it takes to plan a wedding and be happy with it? i never hear the end of it when mum’s forced me to go to those society lunches against my will. dresses need to be ordered or designed, you do know how long it takes to make a good dress right? i know you believe i’m not good at anything but i did pass every single course in my degree with good marks. really for a good wedding dress we’re already running out of time.” 

had beds always been this soft? in a house where nothing could be trusted, he supposed he should extend the same doubts to this piece of furniture, and everything else he’d once thought to be constant – even the person who’d magically seemed to be in his shirt one moment; and in another blink she was beside him, and his shoes were off. it was a heavy sort of lethargy, and he could hear the steady, slow beat of his heart magnified in his ears with every word she spoke and every single one that he could comprehend, and still not understand. “you are… so… so wrong.” yet, even now, at his lowest, he was still stubborn. the hand that had been empty now held hers, and he lifted it to kiss her fingers and promptly hold it against his chest as if to prove his point. she’d find only a hollow echo where both their palms lay. “my own family doesn’t have space for me. i don’t think they ever have. my mother didn’t want me, and my father probably thinks i’m just a failure, and natalia – natalia’s… – what am i without the thing i’ve worked for my whole life?” even to his own ears, it sounded like an admission of defeat. he closed his eyes as if to reject the reality of it. he couldn’t see the expression that twisted his face now; couldn’t see the absolute brokenness of it. maybe he could pretend matilda couldn’t see it, either. “you see? doesn’t all that just add up to zero? now – why in the world would you want to be beside nothing? that’s just…a really… really stupid place to be.”

“i’m not wrong,” she was hanging onto everything, even just the kisses to her fingers, it was like she was chasing to hold onto those. still she let him move her hand, it resting over his chest. she felt the steady beat of his heart, her thumb lightly caressing where she knew her own script was permanently on his chest. “your family is pathetic, arthur. i know you want them to love you to treat you as a family should, because they should. the fact that you and your siblings have been so neglected and forced into dysfunction is fucked. your family doesn’t have space because from what i see and you’ve told me they don’t have space to even be a family.” she felt like she was walking on eggshells, not that it stopped her, bringing her spare hand to run through his hair. “just because your sister betrayed you and your father, once again proved he’s the worst father ever, doesn’t mean you are nothing. because i know you and i know who you are, and my arthur would not give up simply because your deposed father named natalia heir.  this is not a point to give up, my love, take this, do what you have to do in whatever fucked up way you need to and because you are not a man who gives up because it wasn’t handed to him on a platter. i’ve seen you through enough to know that.” she could ignore the questions against her, they were nothing more than a few emotions. “arthur, baby, if i told you why you wouldn’t even believe me. trust me blindly like i trust you blindly for so much? you are not a zero to me, you are the best person in my life.” 

her unbridled optimism made his stomach turn. disappointment wasn’t something one simply heard. he felt it in the gentle way she touched him, as if he might break, like he had never been strong in the first place. he saw it in the way she smiled at him, and thought that she must not think much of him at all if she thought he wasn’t taking care of things well enough by himself. he felt it under his skin when she held his hand, aching somewhere deep and stabbing through his ribcage all the way down to the tips of his fingers. stop it, he wanted to say, stop pitying me. i don’t need it. but he followed her anyway, jaw tight and head throbbing with all the drunken stupor of a fallen prince. he didn’t want to be here. he didn’t want to be anywhere. it felt wrong to find comfort now; undeserved, with all the times he lied and hurt for his own benefit, and all for nothing. “you can’t say that,” he finally mumbled, seeing his bed and promptly crawling onto it, barely taking the time to kick off his shoes. his cheek rested against the pillow, and it still stank heavily of alcohol. or maybe that was him. “you can’t promise me something like that. we don’t have space in each other to accommodate other people. i’m just a void inside, don’t you see – can’t you tell? – and you’re too full of good and love, and you shouldn’t waste it on people like me.”

she only paused for a moment, making sure he actually settled onto the bed and not just bounce off. with his current state it’s not something she could rule out happening. absent mindedly, she opened a drawer she knew she’d find a spare shirt, changing into just that if only for comfort. “i can promise it, because i mean it.” moving back towards the bed she let her eyes rake over the sight of him, how he’d broken so much. how just the sight of him like this made her feel like she was being ripped apart. “you’re not just a void, arthur you are full of so much more than i think even you recognize.” tilly stated, pushing down the aching feeling she had seeing him in such a state unable to even undress. still, with a deep breath she took a second to get the shoes off his feet at the very least.  if he let her she’d tackle the belt later. climbing onto the bed she laid next to him, her hand reaching out to twine their fingers together. “a man who is just a void inside wouldn’t have shared all we are, wouldn’t make me feel safe, wouldn’t have taken time to spend his days with me while i sewed. love, you know that you aren’t just a void, you have so much to give and i wouldn’t give as much for you if i didn’t believe in you with my whole heart.” leaning forward she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, she’d correct him on how he put her on a pedestal later. “arthur, i have all the space in the world for you, i will always have space for you. i don’t plan on ever pushing you away.” 

she wouldn’t admit it out loud, for catherine placed their mother in far too high a pedestal to disrespect her even though it was only her sister in attendance. which goes to show just how differently their personalities differ. “i don’t think its right for me to be happy that the response to french support and natalia named as the heir was the burning of westminster,” her tone was light, although there was a storm hiding behind her eyes. “i can manage that.” like clockwork, one of her maids came over with two ornate glasses that she had usually used for scotch. “i know you don’t want to hear this… but i’m already in negotiations for a new arrangement – it’s still early days, but i think this one might move faster than i can ever imagine.” 

“well, whoever burnt it surely knew how to get their point across. cat you know i hate politics but i don’t understand natalia. it’s like one step above naming me heir and i would be the worst...ever.” she’d been trying to forget the horror that was seeing westminster on screen, particularly who had been in it. pouring the vodka into the glasses that had been brought in. “ a new one already? who have you managed to convince to be with you forever so quickly?” she was almost impressed, she would be if it wasn’t all hollow words and promises. if her sister really felt something she’d respect that, but negotiations is not a word used for emotions. 

“it’s so petty to rank but i can list my top 5. arthur, hector, obviously i wouldn’t continue to fuck guys repeatedly if they’re bad. this guy who i met at oxford i don't know his name never saw his face it was a night, this model i met named ben, and richard madden.” 

“i lost count after 35?? besides i can’t remember all their names let alone how many, it’s just too much work.” 

“a necklace.” 

“that’s funny, uhm i’m good at giving head.” 

“i don’t do threesomes. tried it once hated it, tried it again hated it more. i get way too possessive.”