Hope and Memory (A Richard Armitage fan fiction)

Fellowship

The days passed. The concert had been held on Sunday, and the three days until Wednesday seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly and terrifyingly fast all at the same time. And despite what Lara had told her, Eileen was in a state of complete over excitement and apprehension. She didn't technically have a job, though she was payed for her concerts and for the books she wrote. That was her main job –– writing. It was and had always been what she enjoyed most. On Wednesday morning she awoke at dawn with her stomach flipping over and over. She took forever –– literally four hours –– to decide what to wear, until she finally settled on a lovely midnight blue-and-gold dress, though she kept agonising over whether it was too revealing or not. It could have been painted on her for how tightly it hugged every curve and dip, for all it concealed. The neckline dipped below her collarbones, but not too low, and the back of the dress opened to reveal her shoulder blades. It left her arms bare, ending just below her knees in a shear diamond shape. She brushed her hair but left it loose, as she normally did, and wore no makeup. She'd always thought that makeup seemed too much like a mask.

Eileen shivered in excitement when the clock neared the time they'd arranged for Richard to pick her up. Then nerves crashed in. What if he hated her? What if it all went wrong? What if she messed it up?

There were three knocks on the door. Eileen's heart skipped a beat.

"I'm coming," she called, fingers shaking a little as she picked up her bag. How was this happening? She'd barely gotten over the fact that she had met him, let alone that she was going on a date with him.

Her hand closed around the doorknob.

'Hold it together, Eileen,' she told herself.

She squared her shoulders, shaking loose the breath that had become a tight knot in her chest, and opened the door.

Oh god he was breathtaking. The formfitting black jacket that showed off those powerful shoulders, worn over a crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the top, the beauty and perfectness of him... Unfair. Completely unfair that he could look like that.

But Richard had gone utterly still as he took in the dress.

The midnight blue silk hugged every curve and hollow, revealing each too-shallow breath as Richard's eyes grazed over her body. Down, then up –– to the thick silken hair she'd left down so it framed her face, to the dip of the neckline of the dress and the swell of her breasts from which he quickly looked away.

With the burning weight of Richard's attention on her, Eileen could barely breathe, let alone think enough to form words.

Thankfully, Richard came to her rescue.

"You..." His voice was slightly hoarse as he struggled to find words. "You look... Wow, Eileen. You are... the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

She swallowed, still breathless, but managed to say,

"You don't look too bad yourself."

An understatement. He looked... She couldn't stop staring, that's how he looked.

"Apparently," he said, stepping forward and offering his arm. "We both clean up well."

She bit her lip as she realised he was still staring at her out of the corner of his eye, even as she turned to lock the door. As if he couldn't help looking.

"You should probably wear a coat," she said as she turned back to him and accepted his arm. "You'd feel rather guilty when all those poor women combust at the sight of you."

He chuckled. Oh, that laugh.

"I'd say likewise, but I have a feeling you don't even realise just how beautiful you are."