Storm and Silence Fanfic

Married Life

~24 April 1843~

"Rick, come down here! It's almost dinner time."

I was very opposed to him having an office at home, because I knew he would do this. I knew he would spend his time working or "being efficient" as he calls it, instead of spending time with his family. He insisted if 'this' was going to work, then he would need to be proficient and have an office at home.

'This' being our marriage, of course.

I don't hear the sound of his determined strides coming down the stairs, so I call again.

"Dick, darling, if you don't come down here right now, I'm going to-"

I hear his desk chair slide across the floor and he marches to the steps. From the top of the staircase, he glares down at me. It sends shivers down my spine, even though I know he's upset. No, because he's upset. His cold glare has always excited me.

"How many times have I told you NOT to call me that!" He hisses. His voice is like ice, but instead of making me cold, I feel hot.

"About as many times as I've told you dinner is at six." I shoot back, reluctantly turning away from his gaze. I make sure to give him a nice view of my derrieré as I saunter back to the kitchen. I hear a growl from the top of the stairs and smirk.

His thunderous footsteps creak and crash as he marches down the stairs. An amazing feat, I know, but somehow, he does it.

He doesn't enter the kitchen, but instead stays in the doorway.

"We've also discussed you not ordering me around. I am the man, I make the decisions." I roll my eyes. Chauvinistic bastard.

"Yes, well if you like making the decisions so much, then you can decide to sleep outside tonight." I say in a cheerful, albeit, fake voice. My smile is so sickly sweet I'm surprised he doesn't melt from the sight of it. His eyes have a dangerous glint and stalks towards me. My eyes widen, but he's too fast. Before I can even think of stepping back, his mouth is on mine, invading me and I relax into his arms. Marriage might not have been what we wanted, but at least we're able to do this whenever we please.

He breaks it apart and holds me steady as I suck in a deep breath. I glare at him. You're a feminist, Lilly. You don't need his help, remember that.

"Kids, dinner is ready!" I push him back as I call to the twins, three-year-old Genevieve and Carter. Even to my own ears I can tell my voice doesn't sound right. If I didn't know him better, I'd say he started to smirk, but as soon as our kids ran in, any emotion he might have displayed disappeared.

"Children, do not run." He commands, not tearing his eyes from mine.

My poor babies freeze when they hear his voice. I try to stab him with my eyes. Fine, he doesn't want to talk nice to me, I can take it. But his children haven't had long enough time to learn how to acclimate to his frostbite tone. They can't handle it like I can.

"Go sit at the table, okay? Your father and I will be right there." Carter smiles at me, and leads his sister into the dining room. Even though his father is no gentleman, somehow little Carter has picked up on these chauvinistic tendencies. I have to start dismantling that line of thought in his head. If I don't get to him soon, my darling husband might just realize what he can train him to think, and I'd have two monsters to deal with. Speaking of the man...

I turn to face him. He stares at me, blankly, with the most non-expression expression on his face. Sometimes I just want to slap him...

Okay, maybe all the time. But look at me, exercising self-control like this. I deserve some solid chocolate as a reward.