Mr Americano - ALAN RICKMAN fanfic

Chapter 22 - Living In Love

[M rating!] Big steps in this chapter! I'm so glad they've reached this point. Smut, drama, fluff, romance... 

New Years Eve 2006

Writer's block, writer's fury, writer's resentment, I don't know what it is, but everything I put down seems disjointed, uninspired, so unequivocally BLAH. The notebook and pen is pushed aside and I slump back in the sofa with a rushing hatred toward Scott, wracking my brain trying to piece together everything he'd destroyed, but my writing lacks spark and instead is dull, lifeless.

I don't want Alan to see me like this. He is doing his best to keep me inspired and help me deal with the aftermath of leaving Scott both emotionally and financially. Thank god Scott and I never signed for a mortgage. I've been anxious all day waiting for my landlord to get back to me to hear what Scott has to say with regards to breaking financial ties. Around 4pm he calls me, informing me that Scott is insistent the two of us are still together and are just having some "small problems," that we are still living together! I cannot believe what I'm hearing! Alan tells me not to fret and that if needs be, he will put me into contact with his solicitor.

"We are most definitely not together, and I happen to know he just got promoted," I tell my landlord. "He can afford that place on his own and he is interested in buying as a matter of fact. I'll have you know that his name will be the only one on the contract."

Perhaps this is the reason I couldn't write today. It's 8pm now and Alan is taking a shower. I make another attempt to put pen to paper, when his home phone rings. It goes through to the answer machine. Thinking nothing of it, I scribble away at the doodle that threatens to rip a hole in my paper as if continuously scribbling figures of eight will give me a sudden brain wave.

The instant the caller opens her mouth, my pen comes to an abrupt halt, eyes out on stalks, hackles up. HER. It's the redhead!

"Hi Alan!" she squeaks in an overly enthusiastic manner. "I got your message. We can definitely do coffee on the 3rd. Sooo sad you can't come tonight. What am I going to do without you? Have a great New Years anyway, and I'll see you soon! Thank you again for giving me this opportunity with the play, you're amazing. Byeeeee."

I. Am. Raging.

My blood boils like red-hot lava rushing through my veins. Who the hell does she think she is! How dare she talk to him like that. I reach for the glass of wine by my side and chug it back seething on the sofa, my crossed feet shaking vigorously like a rattlesnake.

"You ok darling?" Alan asks oblivious, though he says he heard the phone ring.

My eyes fix on the roaring fire place, a reflection of my inner self as I swirl the remainder of my wine around the glass.

"Why don't you check your messages," I say dryly.

Alan, I suspect already knows where this is going. His steps are languid and measured, over to that dreaded button that will mean I have to listen to her bloody voice again.

Every part of me recoils hearing it parroted from the speaker.

"Oh Christ, Rebecca," he rolls his eyes, "Must we go there again? She's a professional, nothing more."

My eyebrows flit up sarcastically, muttering under my breath. "Well she was 'sooo sad' you couldn't see her tonight. Professional?" I huff. "Professional whore more like."

My unfiltered comment comes as a shock. Alan's brows shoot up before furrowing under his darkening brow.

"I beg your pardon? How very immature of you, not to mention bloody disrespectful." He crosses his arms, pursing his lips.

"Don't give me that. I have reason to be. She's was all over you at the rehearsal, shoving her tits in your face."

"Excuse...me. It's clear you're warped by an idea of what you think I get up to behind close doors and I'm frankly fucking insulted."

"So, you meet with other girls for coffee do you? I thought that was our thing."

I'm aware of how immature I sound, refusing to look at him, yet I can't seem to stop myself. I'm seeing red, digging myself into a deeper hole. Someone may as well toss me a bigger shovel. Alan, who has had enough, walks off.

Shit, shit, double shit. This wasn't meant to happen.

He's busying himself in his office sieving his way through a pile of papers and notes whilst my pathetic insecure self creeps up behind him standing small beneath the door-frame.

"Alan..." my voice is weak. He doesn't turn around and so I go to place a hand upon his back. Still, nothing.

"Alan, I'm so sorry, I've fucked up again. I'm just...you just mean so much to me. It's pathetic I know, this jealousy, it's just that...it's just that I'm finding things so difficult right now with Scott. He's still there, he's like...fucking poison. I shouldn't have acted like that. I know how it is to be on the receiving end. He used to get so jealous if another man even so much as looked in my direction.

The water works switch on and my eyes glaze over in tears.

"I've been trying my hardest to rewrite my work today but my head is a mess," my voice cracks. "I'm nervous about going back to work...I didn't mean to a be so bitchy. I'm sorry."

Alan turns to me, his crease deep between his brow, everything about his posture tells me I screwed up.

"How can you think such things after everything we've shared, Rebecca? Yes I have coffee scheduled with Holly and there's nothing more in it other than discussing her credentials. What do you think is going to bloody happen? She's a young actress, clearly trying to make her way in the world and wanted some advice."

Sheepishly my eyes waver.

"I'm sorry, I acted brash, over the top."

"I should think you bloody did."

There is a silence, then in a slightly calmer manner, he continues.

"Haven't we spoken about this, and haven't I told you're the only one?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry. I'm just...insecure. He's destroyed a part of me I'm still trying to build up. You've come into my life and you're the most wonderful man I've ever met and..."

Alan scoops his arms under mine and pulls me into an embrace where I blubber pathetically into his shirt.

"Darling, what have I told you about this? Haven't I told you I'm not going anywhere, that you have nothing to worry about?"

I look up to him, straight into those hazel eyes of his, tears streaming from my own, holding his arms.

"I'm glad because...Alan, every single part of me is in love with you."

Every miniscule expression of his softens into a doughy smile.

"C'mere...you bloody sop."

I cry harder, silent tears, feeling his gentle kisses about my lips, grazing my cheeks, his arms smoothing over my back.

"That makes me happy darling..." his amber eyes find mine and he runs his thumb across my lip, "because I love you too. I don't want to hear you say those kind of things about others, and your past is not a reflection of your future. You don't need to feel threatened by anyone else. Look at you..."

The feeling that rushes through my veins is indescribable, our kiss so passionate we find ourselves in his bedroom, behind us a discarded trail of clothing lays on the floor.

Our confession has us rolling around beneath his sheets finding every possible position for the deepest penetration possible, passionately filling the room with a chorus of continuous moans. Arms, hands, legs, lips, we are crazy for each other. I wrap my legs around his back, mouth agape to his cock that fills my aching centre jolting me slow but deeply against the bed. My brows are knotted in wild pleasure, my head sinking back into the pillows when he takes my legs and puts them over his shoulders. Oh God, my jaw drops and I'm seeing stars.

"Ohhh is that good darling?" he pants, lips curling into a sexy smile.