#nora berkeley

Of all the dissapointment he'd felt when he'd found out they were in a piss-poor, standard tent, it hadn't been for his self, but the woman who he was sure was used to the more luxurious way of life that was afforded more towards the Russians than anywhere else. His towering frame in the small space left much to be desire, his face twisting into a grimance as his gaze found hers. "I can fuckin' sleep outside, I'm gonna' have you on the fucking floor." although, a moment later his brows popped up. "That sounded way dirter than I meant it, but I'm not saying sorry." hands in mock surrender as he reappeared. Yeah, this wasn't the one.

They'd said they had to work for their supplies: did that include loo roll, because if so, that set the bar real fucking low. "You hating this yet?"

Damon: I just had a meeting with a man who sounds and looks like David Attenborough.

Damon: Do you know how disappointed I was that he didn't make observations about young businessmen in their natural habitat?

“Best Sense of Humour? Did someone leak your drunken karaoke video? Because that’s pure entertainment,” Adrian approached her without a formal hello, two drinks in hand, and a smile to go with it. “Congratulations, Nora. Well-deserved, all of them.”

Whether it was time, or the fact that his heart was now tugging him into the direction of another woman, the one very different from Nora, Adrian found solace in fact that talking to her was easy again. In another life, they could’ve been friends... But in this life, the only right thing to do was to be friendly.

Damon: How was the babysitting duty?

Damon: Managed to put the kiddos to sleep yet?

Damon: I'm going to ask you something and I need you to say yes.

One downside of getting better? He needed less drugs now, and his insomnia reared its ugly head again. 

The fact that it was Mother’s Day tomorrow didn’t help, either. It had always been a hard day for Damon – a painful reminder of a loss he never truly recovered from. There were so many things he never got to experience with his mother, because they had thought they had time. For this year’s mother’s day, he decided to check on of those off the list.

Driving to Aberystwyth, to Cerys’s and Lara’s hometown tomorrow had been a last-minute decision, but he felt calmer as soon as he made up his mind. But the night was still ahead and he needed a distraction. 

For better or for worse, there was one other person he knew would have trouble sleeping. Damon waited for her on the curb of his apartment building, watching his breath vaporise in the late night chill. 

“I’m really craving a glass of wine or a cigarette right now. Any doctor-approved alternatives?” He asked with a weak smile and rose to his feet, ready for the midnight stroll. 

Being out of commission for so long, Damon practically glued himself to his laptop, much to his doctor’s and family’s disappointment. It’s not that he didn’t understand why rest was important, but running a multi-nation corporation wasn’t exactly forgiving when it came to absence. He’d been so engrossed in the latest report sent by his CFO, that it took his a few seconds to register the sound of his buzzer going off, despite knowing Nora was on her way.

The wheelchair was right next to his bed, but out of determination to be on his feet as much as possible, thus shortening the recovery time, Damon used the crutches instead. When he finally looked at the small monitor, he couldn’t help but beam. 

Nora had’t come alone.

He waited at the door as the lift reached his penthouse.

“Berkeley, I hope you know you absolutely made my day,” Damon stood smiling, welcoming the guests into his house. The report, after all, would have to wait. “Wish you had given me a heads-up, though. Would’ve asked Ava to bring some ice-cream and chocolates.”

They’d both been used to the spotlight, the red carpets, having the cameras and microphones shoved in their faces, and whilst Damon didn’t mind the annoying reporters – he had his little fun trolling them – he knew for Nora, it was always an unpleasant experience to endure. They both were household names huge enough to warrant the press attention everywhere they went, but two of them together took it to next level.

Which was why, Damon appreciated Nora agreeing to attend with him, knowing just how she always tried to avoid too much attention. It was funny, really, he hadn’t technically even asked her at first – on the most uneventful of nights, as they sat on the sofa, watching a TV show that Damon wasn’t actually watching, head buried in his phone, typing away an e-mail, he got the phone call to host the awards, Nora had asked him who he would be taking to the ceremony, and the ‘you’ had been such an automatic response that he didn’t quite realise at first that the question had to be posed. The endless list of models, actresses, celebrities and socialites in his contact list didn’t even cross his mind, in favour of one of his closest friends that Nora had become in past two years. As a joke, as the two of them often did, Damon had dramatically gotten on his knee and asked ‘will you come with me to the awards’ with such theatrics that keeping a straight face was impossible.

Lots of people wanted to be a friend to a Rutherford, but the real ones were rare. Especially now. He hadn’t let go of her waist the entire time they stood on the red carpet, and even when they had been doing separate interviews simultaneously.

“Okay, okay, I think that’s enough, guys,” he finally cut in, an attempt to free her from the never-ending army of reporters, and shooed away another one coming at him, “I’m afraid I have to steal her away, we have to go in now, host duties and all.” Once out of the public eye, and inside the four walls, he stopped to check in before they had to make small talks with hall full of people. “You alright?” Damon asked, pretending not to notice a random socialite hovering in the background, possibly wanting to say hello to them both.