“They won’t miss us, surely?” she pleaded gently, running recklessly, even after they’d left the lights of the mansion far behind them, soon sprinting across the grass simply because she wanted to, because her hair was coming loose, it’s dark curls and the lace of her dress streaming out behind her and the dew was soaking through her pumps to her stockings and she was picking up speed so why not keep going, why not fly?

Gil knew they would be missed. He could see the scene playing out in front of his eyes, Madame de Noailles noticing their absence within five minutes, the war behind her smooth face between her desire to maintain etiquette at a social gathering and her fury erupting like a volcano, his own Mama would spot it early and expertly distract and divide attentions with some music, a copious flow of more wine and port. His Papa would join in after a subtle touch on the arm from his wife, diving in with some of his most entertaining high society anecdotes, the well worn ones he’d been breaking out at parties like this since his hair was still black but they never failed. That would keep Adri’s mother quiet at least, though it definitely wouldn’t save them from getting in severe trouble when they had to return, a bigger dose for his girlfriend than for him.

But, a heartbeat after, Gil found himself not caring in the slightest. The only thing he saw now was Adrienne in front of him, his hand firmly clasped in hers, the moonlight settling on her hair like a light settling of snow, as well as on her shoulders, bare now as she abandoned her scarf to hold it over her head like a triumphant banner of victory. All he heard was her beautifully wild laughter, ringing like bells as they careened down the rolling hill, down towards the bulk of the gardens. That was more than he could possibly have wanted.

Adri seemed to be following some impulse and he was happy to go along with her as they reached his Papa’s much loved lily garden, the one he and the gardener were always playfully arguing over how best to tend. Whoever had been winning recently clearly had the right idea; the flowers were thicker and bolder than Gil had ever seen them, recent rains and much careful attention creating towering structures of vines, flower heads that seemed to glow in the late hour’s darkness for their exceptional whiteness, proud, tall stems, tightly packed beds of gypsophila and blue flowering Salvia and lordly, sprawling ferns and a scent that had grown almost intoxicating, something from a Midsummer Night’s Dream that would have them disrobing and cavorting in amongst the flora in no time. It really was beautiful, it seemed only natural for them to skid to a breathless halt right in the middle of it all, at the stone bench right at the epicentre of the colour and the life.

“You trying to kill me?” Gil panted, grinning in something of a dizzied haze, completely entranced by his girlfriend.

It still felt strange saying that. Girlfriend. Adrienne de Noailles, the girl he’d had a crush on all the way back in fifth grade was his girlfriend.

“Of course not!” she laughed, smoothly using her discarded scarf to tie up her long, now rather windblown hair, “Then who would I talk to? Who would be as good company as you are?”

Gil knew he was blushing, so fierce it was probably visible even in this light, but he’d done that more than enough times in front of Adri, she was surely used to it by now. He was starting to realise that a lot of what used to embarrass him, what used to drive him into the shadowed corners of parties and galas, what used to stop him from raising his hand in class or really talk to anyone at school other than the handful of souls persevered enough to see through the stony shyness. Adrienne would never laugh the way some kids at school or even adults at parties who’d had enough alcohol to not enough morals to forget their politeness laughed at him. She would always smile that gorgeous smile of hers that made his knees weak, she would brush his cheek with her fingertips, look at him like he was a beautiful piece of artwork she was recognising something of herself in. And everything Gil had ever hated about himself, wished away when he caught sight of himself in the mirror after stepping out of the shower, he suddenly loved. Because Adrienne loved it.

“I...I wasn’t really planning on doing much talking,” he confessed, some daring gripping his tongue and making it say what he actually wanted to say, rather than over thinking and chickening out.  

Adri’s eyes widened and her pupils grew a little, their depths as black and inviting and a little unnerving as the void of the night sky above them, speckled with stars Gil ached to know better and simultaneously quaked before.

“And what were you planning exactly, rather than talking?” she murmured in a low voice. She sounded as if she knew the answer.

Gil didn’t need to say any more, he just leaned in and pressed his lips against Adri’s, deciding it was far past time he tasted what lay behind them. Adri responded immediately and eagerly, her hands delicate but the want in them was clear as they moved up and deftly pulled the ribbon holding her boyfriend’s bun in place, letting it spring free. Then her arms circled his neck, bringing him good and close as their mouths showed no signs of parting willingly. Gil gave a gentle murmur as her painted lips, a deep wine red that he would gladly get drunk on, parted for him and her tongue slid across his, sending a bone deep shudder running right through to his fingertips. It was unfamiliar. It was a breach. But after not even half a second of what, Gil’s heart cried out hungrily for more of this, more of her.

He pulled her into his lap with an insistent tug, making her gasp gently in surprise at the strength in his wiry limbs, a gasp that quickly turned to laughter and a flurry of kisses against his sharp cheekbones, falling like the most wonderful cool summer rain. Eventually she found her way back to his mouth, the two of them kissing fiercely with an endearing kind of messiness, a lack of technique that spoke only of wanting something unfamiliar but so desired that they didn’t care how they got there. They just wanted to grab at each other and explore and grip so tight that their knuckles went white because this was so new and perfect, neither of them could believe that it would last for very long. That it wouldn’t be taken away from them as suddenly as they’d discovered it so they had to have it all as fast as they could take it.

Gil didn’t realise what was happening, so engrossed in everything with Adrienne, her touch, her taste, the taste of slightly charred sugar from dessert, her sound, the gentle little moans as their kissing built and deepened and grew, her scent, the scent of her spiced perfume. But Adri herself noticed, as she shifted her legs and ended up straddling his lap, the waterfall of her dark skirts covering them both.

“Um, cheri?” she giggled, resting her forehead against his, giving a daring roll of her hips.

Gil’s jaw slackened and he gave a strangled little sigh, realizing very quickly what she meant, cottoning on to the stirring between his legs. If he blushed before it was nothing compared to the way his dark cheeks flamed now.

“I...um, sorry, I don’t...uh…” he stammered, biting his lower lip like he always did when he could feel his brain running away with his mouth but he couldn’t catch up, “I don’t know how to make it not do that.”

Adri tried very, very hard not to laugh, getting the sense that that really wasn’t what her boyfriend needed to hear. But he was just so damn cute. And feeling the rather insistent press against her lower stomach was sending her pounding heart to the top of her throat, as if it wanted to peer curiously at every inch of her Gil as much as Adri herself did.

“It’s okay,” she murmured softly, still smiling, though it had shifted to something more wicked, more excited now, “I like it. I think...I think I want...”

There were some things that were better said in the gaps between words than the words themselves. Gil understood immediately what she meant.

“You do?” he whispered, his voice a little hoarse, “You’re sure?”

Adri did that stroke of his face again, the one that raised goosebumps all across his skin, and her smile was more beautiful than any flower in the place.

“I do, Gil,” she breathed, “I think I’m ready. But only if you are?”

Gil felt like his body more than answered the question for him but he knew it was right to say it out loud, “Yes I want you, Adri. Pretty...pretty damn badly.”

“Then nothing is stopping us,” Adri beamed, shy and excited and nervous and hungry all at once, playing across her face all at once like an aurora and making something so beautiful that Gil didn’t quite know what to do with it. He just couldn’t rationalise that someone so wonderful was pressing her body against him and looking him right in the eyes and saying she wanted him. And yet here they were, limbs moving, clothes being pulled back, sleeves slipping down shoulders to expose collarbones, fingers stroking hair into rivers down backs, lips never leaving each other’s skin for more than a second.

You don’t deserve her, Gil thought, this must be a dream.

He wasn’t to know it but Adrienne was thinking the exact same thing about him. This irony of their relationship would prove to be long lasting.

Neither of them had given much thought to their first time together. Of course they weren’t completely ignorant, it wasn’t as if Gil hadn’t used thoughts of almost every aspect of Adrienne, her smile, her eyes, the softness of her hair, the way her skirt hugged her hips, how it felt to kiss her, to pass sleepless nights in the conventional way for teenage boys and it wasn’t as if Adrienne hadn’t done the same, with thoughts of Gil’s hair, how he’d taken his shirt off when they’d been reading in the library the other day and the sunlight had played off his chest, his crooked smile, his strong arm around her shoulders, the way the loose sweatpants he favoured sometimes slipped further down his hips and suggested at more than he was aware of. It wasn’t as if hands hadn’t wandered as they’d kissed in Adri’s pick up truck, bought by her after her mother had told her she could purchase a car and for once not been stringent enough about what constituted a proper car for a young lady like her daughter. Hence why she hadn’t made that mistake again.

It wasn’t as if there hadn’t always been the implication that one day they might, that when they were ready they would take that step, that soon it would feel right, that maybe… But it had all been hypotheticals and ellipses and now it was solidifying into something real, they could do nothing but follow their instincts and hope that carried them there, to where they wanted to go. They had to trust their own hearts, a forbidden and much desired and fantasized about and hopefully sweet concept the two of them had been denied up until now.

Well, no more of that. As Adrienne said, why not? Why not let that ridiculous denial end now?

Gil pulled off his jacket and spread it on the soft grass, as dense and comfortable as any bed, with the fresh scent of dew. Adri lay on it, her heart fluttering at the view she suddenly had of the night sky, of the stars’ pinpoints of light through the velvet blackness of the sky. It occurred to her in that moment how beautiful darkness could be, how it seemed to have a motion and life behind it, a gentleness, a security, depths and promise and such raw beauty. The stars were fine, but it was the night that made them shine.

She kept her dress on, just pulling the skirts of it up around her waist and sliding the thin, lacy panties she was wearing (with a thrill of relief that she’d chosen a pair of her prettier ones) down her legs and kicking them away to hang rakishly off the bench, making them both get the giggles for a few minutes. Gil was prepared to be a little more daring, standing and pulling off his shirt, undoing his belt with eagerly shaking fingers, giving a soft moan as his boxers followed and the cool air touched parts of him he wasn’t used to. Though he was more aware of Adri’s eyes as she took in the sight of every single inch of him, of several inches in particular. An impulse to cover himself with his hand seized him for a moment but then he realised behind the shock in her eyes, there was hunger, there was a slackening of her jaw and a need in the way she took him in. That was when he began to smile.

“Sorry,” she blushed, her grin reaching her eyes in such a beautiful way, “I just didn’t expect...um...I mean...you’re really big?”

Gil blinked for a moment and then burst out laughing, covering his now bright red face with his hands. And a second later, Adrienne was howling with laughter too.

“Sorry, that was so awkward,” she choked out, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, “I just couldn’t think of another adjective!”

“It’s okay,” Gil chuckled, “That actually, um, really flattering? So, thanks.”

“Can we just have sex before I say anything else utterly stupid?” she begged, grinning hopefully.

“It’s kind of the stupid stuff that makes me want to have sex with you so badly?” he admitted with a coy smile, settling himself on his knees between her parted legs, arms at either side of her shoulders.

Adri was struck so hard then by his genuine sweetness, she reached up and pulled him down to her, kissing him as fiercely as she could. Gil responded in kind within an instant, neither of them seeing any sense in waiting a second longer. They felt a rhythm sneak up on them, a sense of where to put their hands and where to kiss and where to position their legs, of where to go and what to do, of what it was they were searching for. The heat grew between them, their kisses wandered down to newly exposed skin, tasting things they’d never tasted before, finding new softness and new curves, enough to make the garden swim around them.

Before long, Gil’s hand dipped between her legs, disappearing up underneath her skirt, finding wetness and slickness and warmth. Adri gave a soft gasp, her eyes widening. His dark eyes flickered to her, a question in them, not quite sure yet how to distinguish between noises of uncertainty and noises of desire. Though he was learning fast, his girlfriend was very vocal.

“Yes,” she nodded frantically, feeling honest fear when his fingers withdrew, “Yes, more.”

Gil could give more. He could give it gladly.

Adri suddenly felt like one of his books, one of the books of poetry or literary criticism or free thought that he read so devotedly, that he found such peace and kinship in. As his fingers probed, she felt thumbed through, opened, leafed through, feeling the same burning focus like she was the centre of his whole universe. She felt studied, explored, adored in a way she never had until now. When Gil’s eyes locked with her’s, she could believe that he saw nothing but her.

“I...please…” she croaked after she’d had as much as she could stand of being rocked and tossed against the grass, clamping her thighs around his wrist, building and building and scrabbling for some height that remained out of reach.

“I’ve got you,” Gil promised, shifting his hips, struggling for just a few moments with the wonders of female anatomy before suddenly realising his path, “Just...just let me know if it’s too much, okay? I’ll stop.”

Adri nodded, her expression softening. One of her hands reached out and found one of his, their fingers winding together, slotting together perfectly as if they’d been made specifically to hold one another. In the low moonlight, their fingers were almost indistinguishable, they could have been one soul, one individual, rather than two people.

Gil kissed a path along the delicate slopes of her collarbones and neck as he shifted his hips, gentle as he could be as he slid into her. He met a little resistance and shivered, so close to stopping, but Adri wrapped her legs around his hips and drew him forward, taking all of him until their hips bumped into each other. And the groan of his name she made couldn’t be mistaken for anything but ecstasy.

He’d despised it with all his might when the whole world had apparently decided ahead of his arrival to always call him by that particular one of his names. Of all of the ones at their disposal, why that one? He’d decided somewhere around his fourth birthday that when he got old enough, he was going to make everyone call him Lafayette.

But there was something about the way Adrienne said it, especially now, where it hung in the heavily scented air. He decided he would let her call him Gil for as long as she wanted.

They moved together, raw instinct directing every slightly hasty thrust and grasp and drag of nails down his back. Gil was glad of their distance from the house, Adri was soon writhing and screaming and bucking, her face pressed to his shoulder, trembling all over with so much sensation it was bordering on overwhelming, too much, too hot, too bright. So she fixed her eyes on the night sky above them, on that endless, comforting darkness. She lost herself in it and she sighed his name.

Gil found power in his wiry muscles he’d never been aware of, drunk on the scent of lilies and damp grass, on how Adri throbbed and contracted around him, how the cool chill of the night rose goosebumps across the dark velvet of his skin and yet a fire burned between his legs and through his belly in the best kind of way. He reached the edge before she did but he held on fast, clawing at the wet earth and feeling sweat run down the straight valley of his spine, determined to let her taste the same wild sweetness he was right now.

And he wasn’t waiting long. Neither of them received any warning, neither of them were braced for it but within seconds of each other the tension snapped and they hit their pleasure hard. Adri saw the whole damn universe rock and blur in front of her eyes with the force of it and she found, for all her noisiness up until now, the climax stole her words. Gil, on the other hand, moved from the restless panting he’d been reduced to and howled her name at the top of his voice as he came, heat breaking from him.

It was a while before either of them could speak and, even then, what could they say?

Gil found the words first, after he withdrew from her and rolled to lie on his back by her side, his slightly damp eyes fixed devotedly on her face.

“I love you, Adrienne de Noailles,” he murmured, his voice an exhausted and satisfied rasp, “I love you so, so much.”

Adri bit her lower lip, the simplicity of the words somehow only making them hit her harder.

“I love you too, Gil,” she whispered, her shaking hand stroking the angles of his face delicately, “More than anything.”

Neither of them really kept track of how much time they spend just looking at each other, just wandering through the thoughts and emotions and aches and wants left after all of this, but eventually they were both shivering from the cold, giggling a little hysterically, just repeating the words over and over, marvelling how they never lost their magic.

I love you.

***

Years and years later, when most people did in fact call him Lafayette, pretty much everyone apart from his family and his love, a lot about the grounds of the family mansion had changed, shifting and rolling as time flowed past it all. Some parts had to be moved, building renovations forced other parts away, changes in the weather mean some plants weren’t viable any more, some new ones were introduced. He hadn’t wanted much to change, wanting to preserve what his parents had left but some things had been unavoidable despite his best efforts. Most things, in fact. Nearly all. Some days, Laf barely recognised the old place, he couldn’t really believe this was the house in all his memories. So much was different.

Except one corner of the grounds. The corner than held the lily garden.