To Die Alone, Only That Would Be Death (Morticia <3 Gomez)

Chapter 12.

She suddenly realises that behind them is a mirror and if his eyes were to open, he would see Gomez. And so out of instinct, she kicks the mirror with her stiletto and it shatters into pieces. The Frenchman takes this as the end of that kiss and pulls back looking at her confused yet aroused. She looks at him with that seductive smile.

“You kicked the mirror.” He stares stupidly.

“I just need you so much, my ecstasy.” She falters at the use of that specific pet name remembering her husband was in the room. 

He smiles. “But that’s seven years bad luck.” And he looks back down ‘scanning’ Morticia’s body again.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She stands up pushing his chair over and him with it. “To be with you, would be an eternity of bad luck!” She shouts as she jumps over him and his fallen chair towards her still frozen husband. Gomez watches in disbelief and more disappointment as she pulls up her ‘fallen’ underwear. And as she pulls him away towards the exit the Frenchman speaks; now standing in front of the wine bottle. 

“You almost made me believe in second chances. Almost.” He looks at her angrily and yet still with that disgusting, lustful expression. And he places his finger on the bottle and laughs. “Bet you didn’t know it was a countdown. And Gomez?” He ‘scans’ Morticia’s body once again. Gomez immediately steps in front of her ‘shielding’ her from the Frenchman’s gaze. The Frenchman smiles. “I suppose you would know… is your wife’s naked body almost the same as her sister’s?”

 Gomez spins around to face his wife. She looks at him confused and suddenly she was covering up her own body- in front of her husband!

“What…” Her voice is weak. “Gomez?”

Gomez takes one more look at the Frenchman, throwing him a look of disgust, and quickly pulls his wife up the stairs, out of the cellar and into the ballroom.

There is a faint ticking sound- with a faint voice counting down from one hundred in French. 

“100. Cent. 99. Quatre vingt dix neuf...”

Gomez feels his wife’s hand on his arm and he looks up to see her face. It was an expression he didn’t understand, mixed with regret but anger as well. 

“My sister?” She raises her eyebrows and he raises his.

“A Frenchman?”

Maybe their sense of humour was the only thing that kept them calm. They both knew there was nothing they could do at that moment to save them selves. They just needed to not end their lives with regrets.

He smiles at her. They seemed to understand each other so well even without words. They knew they had no time to run, they had to stay and meet their fate. Gomes had noticed that his son was no longer hanging from the chandelier, Wednesday must have been right; Pubert had known what he was doing. And suddenly he knew; he knew what it meant to be an Addams. Others never knew what they were thinking or doing, but there always came a time where they knew what they were doing.

“Tish, how long has it been since we’ve waltzed?” 

She spins to face him completely and smiles. “Too long.”

And so they were off in the dance of love and for once they danced without the lust they were known for. They danced to the faint tick and countdown of the bomb and soon they could barely hear it as they fell further and further into each other’s eyes; her's icy cold blue, and his a dark mesmerising brown. They were so different and yet so similar.

“10. Dix. 9. Neuf. 8. Huit…” 

They couldn’t hear anything and they stop their dancing to hold each other for the last ten seconds. And all they could think was surely this was not the end. Surely they had more time. More time to see what they had missed throughout their selfish lives and maybe continue to live selfishly and this time with the knowledge of it. This was not the fate of an Addams.

For the first time throughout their marriage, Gomez kisses his wife without her acceptance or ‘permission’. There was no nod or word of consent and yet she did not pull away or get mad. It was one of those things that they both just sensed was appropriate and all Gomez had to do was look into her eyes. 

“6. était. 5. Cinq…”

And his hands weave through her long, thick hair as he pushes her further and further into him. She feels everything that she was waiting for that night; her hands on his muscular arms and not the frail, skinny ones she had to seduce, and his tough chest she had been longing to lean against and all she could do was melt into his soft, warm lips. It seemed like the perfect ending for such a beautiful couple and all they could do was think of each other. When it came to death, an Addams would jump at the thought, (with excitement of course) and when it finally came for them, the joy and celebration in death wasn’t there. There was just them. Gomez and Morticia.

But they still had 5 seconds left and they pulled apart, still both of them smiling.

“If you had a choice, Amore,” He sighs just thinking of all their mistakes that night. “How would you die?” 

A common conversation for an Addams at their end. And then Morticia remembered the reason she gave her last answer so many years ago. 

“4. Quatre. 3. Trois 2. Deux…”

“I’d freeze to death if I had a choice. I’d freeze beside you and be sure that if I wake on another side you were still there. I’d freeze so that my last long hours and minutes and seconds…”

“…Were all spent with you.”

“1. Un.”

...Skyfall...

CC;)