𝗜𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗶𝘁 𝗔𝗳𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗿𝘀 | 𝐁𝗼𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲/𝗥𝗙𝗞

XLII: "A Midnight Soirée"

They forged their way toward the battleground downstairs with love as their weapons and wits as their shields — and Bastille, who joined them at the last minute, by their side.

When General Bellamy and her cavalier — and Bastille — entered the battleground guised as the dining room, it was as though Hail to the Chief was playing; conversations died down, heads were turned, eyes leered on them, and not a person could break out of the spell she had cast.

Seated at the table were the man and lady of the house; Maurice and Julia, and their special guests; Bobby and his wife, along with a few of his siblings who'd found the time in their day to join. Lastly, Joseph Patrick Kennedy — the belligerent man with a plan — and his taciturn wife.

"I'd like to make a toast!" Maurice rose from his patriarchal seat, tapping his champagne flute with a spoon, giving no time for Evelyn and Paul to settle down on their seats.

"To my daughter, Evelyn..."

The guests expectedly shifted their attention to the star feigning a smile; she didn't miss the feeling of starry eyes on her skin — it never felt good coming from insincere people. If she had the stardom of Lana Turner or Ava Gardner, the scrutinizing orbs would be perceived in a better light, but until then, their façade bothered her.

"For returning after a long year of studying." The nod Maurice gave her was nuanced, it was as though to say: fret not, child, I am with you. "I'm proud of you—we all are... as we impatiently await your graduation."

Once it was out of the way, Evelyn exhaled the breath she'd been holding since she stepped foot in the room. "Cheers, Pa." Her glass was lifted higher.

"Here, here!" Her opponent exclaimed with a peculiar smile — he was the most impatient of them all.

Maurice shifted his eyes to his next target. "And to Paul!" Every blue, brown, green, and hazel eyes in the room darted at him — he shuddered quite literally that time. "Perhaps the newest member of the family?" The older man winked conspicuously at the couple; making Paul red in the face.

There were murmurings all around the room, and when Evelyn tried to discern them, words became unintelligible.

Jack observed his family abashedly before speaking up, "Cheers, Paul!" And it influenced his younger brother to do the same.

"Cheers, Monsieur Olympian!" Ted playfully added, giving his other brother a mocking smile.

Bobby did not raise his glass any higher or lower, he was gritting his teeth, though — that much could be seen.

"May your love blossom and be blessed by the Gods. Santé!" Maurice took a sip of his apple juice as it was all Julia allowed after she heard what had happened in Cambridge. He'd gotten more than he bargained for when she gave him the silent treatment she'd mastered over their shameful years of destitution.

As glasses clinked and laughter erupted, Evelyn's gaze fell on the only man she desired to see on the battlefield. Her Romeo had worn a beige sweater with a dress shirt underneath — it was a ridiculous summer outfit if it wasn't for movie night. But as she was policing his fashion choice — or savoring the look — the man requited and let his eyes rest on her pondering face. Something sparked for the second time; something worth worshipping by the poets and swans, but idolatry in the eyes of God and His disciples.

Just as the two souls collided, an aging voice caught their attention. "Evelyn, I want to apologize for not being here on your arrival," said Lord Montague, noticing who and where the damsel was looking at.

Evelyn waved it off with her kind eyes and Hollywood smile — mistress of deception.

"I just got back from Los Angeles; met a friend who's working on a project for the Warner Brothers."