Finally, Silence : A Lambrose One Shots

Sleepless In London

The sky opened up in the dark of night, the storm raging havoc. Lightning flashed and the rain pelted hard outside the Ambrose manor.

In the darkened room lay the couple huddled in their king size bed. Bodies connected, limbs tangled in each other, Rikkard gently strokes his beloved's hair as he gazes at her with a tender expression.

He can't quite believe they are still together. Five years of marriage and the familiar sparks between them has not disappeared. It intensified even, with their four year old son and daughter on the way, he has never been this content in his entire life.

And it is all brought by his little ifrit, lying in his arms, slumbering with a small smile on her beautiful face.

Thank you for our family, my darling Ifrit. He thought to himself. Giving her a gentle kiss in the forehead and tucked her on the crook of his neck.

Tonight, he is restless yet again. Now and again, Rikkard has been pestered by his past  in the colonies. With the change in perspective when his wife and little boy came into his life, that chapter of his life had his mind often visited. A reminder of the harsh reality contradicting the peace in his life now.

He was great at hiding his true feelings. Emotions were just a waste of time. And Knowledge is Power is Time is Money. His emotional turmoil will only hinder him from his success back then. Ergo, he suppressed the pain of missing his family and loneliness and drove himself to back-breaking work.

Old buried feelings rose from their graves and haunted his mind.

Booming thunder can be heard outside that has rattled Rikkard's thoughts. His mind suddenly clouded with the memories of his horrendous past, a past where he was but a young man traveling in an unknown place, without Karim, with only the money on his pockets, the pocket watch from his grandfather and the clothes on his back.

Loud thunder claps repeatedly, thumping at his psyche of the times were similar noises were heard in his youth, the pain on his skull where the cut from the explosion on a mine he once worked for was echoed in the night.

Drowning in bad memories, Rikkard clutched his wife to him tightly. Kissing her head once more deeply to calm his racing heart and thoughts.

I am the richest man of the British Empire. I do everything in my power to stay on top. I am a survivor.

A survivor, of the cruel harsh world, that he fought tooth and claw to reach the top of the ladder. Money and power. Two things he held with a great grip before..

Before my little ifrit, whom I will never let go.

Lillian, the woman of his dreams (as he rarely sleeps) the love of his life is a strong woman. With an iron will and a compassionate heart, she barged herself in his heart and soul from the moment she returned from that first Monday morning she worked for him as Mr Victor Linton. Her ideals has honestly astounded him even before then.

And she has always watched me. No, she saw me. And to be truly be seen is something.

I have always loved her even then. He stroked her hair one more time, feeling her stir lightly on her sleep. My love.

As if she heard his internal monologue this whole time, Lilly sighed. Calling to him in her dreams she whispered "Dick.. Stop. Sleep.. Hold me.." and other sounds are muffled by his night shirt as she snuggled to him deeper.

Stop. She silenced his thoughts with a single word. Even in slumber she mocks and orders him around.

Obliging willingly, he sank into her embrace. With her quiet strength, he managed to breathe easily. Relaxing as far as a granite monument of miserdom can enable. Soon, heavy eyelids droop and he finally went to rest.

A few hours later, Lilly was half awoken by a continuous sound in her ears. Still half asleep, Lillian heard her husband whisper again.

I love you my Lilly.

She smiled to herself. Rikkard should stop drinking tea more often.

Him sleeptalking is making her want to wake him up with a kiss and may be ravish him.

And she did just that.