meraki
μεράκι /may-rah-kee/ the love, creativity, and soul that someone puts into their work
OR three times Ruby doesn't tell James she loves him, and one time she does.
one.
He flies her to Monte Carlo the day after A-Levels are over.
Because, of course he does.
They use his family’s private jet – once again, of course they do – and it comes with champagne, private dinner, and a bed she is not shy to admit they put to good use once the plane is high in the sky. It is all absolutely ridiculous to Ruby, with her small suitcase full of Primark clothes and her sunglasses borrowed from Lin, the only expensive accessories she packed.
She is all too aware that James wears luxury brands from head to leather-cladded toes, the kind that comes without a logo but is worth more than her house’s mortgage. She is all too aware she might look out of place, with her flimsy sandals and her Poundland sun cream.
The feeling lingers at the back of her mind when he brings her to their hotel – five-star, of course – and shows her the room – presidential suite, of course – then brings her to the beach – private for hotel clientele, of course. Not for the first time, she wonders if this really is her life now, if this is even real, if this is just a fever-induced dream.
read on ao3.
