Hope and Memory (A Richard Armitage fan fiction)

Not All Tears Are An Evil

During the next couple of days Eileen stayed at Richard's house, doing her writing and editing there. Once or twice Richard left the house to do 'shopping', yet he never seemed to return with anything, despite the satisfied gleam in his eyes. He was up to something, she could tell that much, but what it was she had no idea. He would tell her nothing when she pestered him, to her eternal frustration.

She awoke on the day of her birthday to find the now familiar weight of Richard's arm absent. She checked the time, and blinked. 10:00. Richard must have switched off her alarm to allow her to have a lie in. Eileen slumped back onto her pillows. In that case, she might sleep a little longer. 

When she next awoke, it was 11:30 and she decided she should probably get up. Once the daily ordeal of deciding what to wear was over, Eileen made her way downstairs, stomach grumbling. But Richard wasn't in the kitchen. Or the living room. Sighing, she traipsed back upstairs, wondering why she seemed incapable of just starting her morning without having to see him first. She was being stupid.

She walked into the spare room where Richard normally did his exercising and every thought went straight out of her head. He was doing yoga. Was in the position of down facing dog. And was only wearing boxers.

Sweat gleamed off his skin, muscles rippling as he shifted his position slightly, letting out a grunt of strain.

Oh, God.

Eileen's face was burning, and from far more than the heat, as she took a shaky step forward.

"Hey," he panted, and his voice...

Eileen quickly sat down. Crossed an ankle over a knee and drank in the sight of those long, muscled legs, his sweat damp hair, the straining and bulging muscles of his arms and amazingly straight back. Watched him ripple. And sweat.

He stood then, rolling his shoulders, still panting as he straightened up. Eileen swallowed.

"I was just finishing," he told her, as if he genuinely had no idea what he was doing to her. "I see..."

Eileen didn't let him finish his sentence before she was upon him, shoving him back against the wall and kissing him. Richard chuckled, hands burying in her hair as she ran her own over his sweat damp shoulders and torso, and realised he had known precisely what affect he was having on her, and now...

She moaned as his mouth explored her jaw and neck and ear, breathless and panting.

And when he raised his mouth to hers once more, Eileen kissed and kissed him, then licked the sweat from his neck. Richard groaned, and Eileen couldn't help thinking that this –– he –– was probably the best birthday present she could ask for.

***

The rest of the day turned out to be one of the best birthdays of her life. She spent it alone with Richard (it was Tuesday and the party wouldn't be until the weekend), but that was the best part of it. Her friends had sent her presents by post (Lara had got her the Evenstar necklace from Lord of the Rings), yet Richard told her to wait to open his present. That only intrigued her further, though she meant it when she said he shouldn't have gotten her a present at all. He'd replied with, "Don't be an idiot, of course I was going to get you a present."

Eileen smiled softly as she sat on the edge of his bed, dusk descending over the world outside, and listened to the soft padding of his footsteps up the stairs. Richard entered the room and smiled right back, quickly closing the space between them with long strides. He took her hand and gently urged her to rise. She did so, looking up into his face and quite literally becoming lost in his eyes. But Richard pulled a small bundle from his pocket. She raised her brows as he silently extended it to her, the black velvet cloth like the darkness of the starless night outside.