Spoiler Alert (Spoiler Alert #1)(66)
He was watching her so carefully, that line between his brows not completely gone.
When he spoke, his voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I’m no brave hero, April.”
Why he seemed to consider that such a damning confession, why he was staring at her with such pleading and anxiety, she had no idea. But she intended to remove that worried expression from his face, the sooner the better.
“I don’t . . .” His jaw worked, and each word seemed dragged from his throat unwillingly. “I don’t always do the right thing, or the courageous thing.”
At her snort, he actually jumped a little.
“So you’re human, rather than a fictional character or an actual demigod.” She waved off that particular concern. “How terrible and disappointing. Also, to be fair, Aeneas did some shitty stuff too. Like, for example, abandoning the woman he’d been sleeping with for a year without bothering to tell her goodbye.”
His brow unpinched a tad, even as he sprang to his character’s defense. “The gods instructed him—”
“Blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes. “His moral responsibilities didn’t begin and end with the residents of Mount Olympus. He could have left a damn note, at least.”
His nostrils flared as he exhaled. “Okay, okay. You’re right. That was shitty. But it was one of the bits included in both the Aeneid and Wade’s books, so there was no way to play it differently.”
BAWN had made the same argument to her before, and he’d been equally wrong then. “Of course. Because your showrunners were always so very faithful to the source material they were given.”
He didn’t bother arguing, probably because there really was no good counterargument. Instead, he only grinned at her and took her hand again, interlacing their fingers. “No comment.”
“Oh, I think that’s comment enough.” She scooted closer to him. Closer again, until she was pressed along the length of his side, softness against taut strength. Heat against heat. “If you’re still worried I don’t know who you are, show me who you are. I’ll prove I can differentiate the man from the performance.”
“I’ll—” His voice choked to silence as her open mouth roamed along his shoulder. Over the ridges of his ribs. Down to that blessed divot at his hip, then in and down again. “I’ll try my best.”
“Thank you. Now I intend to try my best too.”
After that, her mouth was too occupied for further discussion, and once she was through with him, that worried expression was gone, gone, gone, replaced by dazed pleasure and appreciation and a sort of panting beam in her direction.
“April . . .” He reached for her afterward, dragging her up into his sweaty, trembling arms. “Jesus. California should declare your mouth a national treasure of some sort. A landmark? Something.”
Smiling as smugly as he ever had, she basked in every well-earned bit of praise. Lord knew she wasn’t going to argue with him.
He might have mastered unicycling and chopping and emotive sniffing and swordplay, but she had her own particular set of skills when it came to swords. They deserved appreciation too.
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandoms: Gods of the Gates – E. Wade, Gods of the Gates(TV) Relationships: Aeneas/Lavinia, Aeneas/Dido, Lavinia & Dido Additional Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern, Alternate Universe High School, Competition, Fluff, Emotional Sublimation through Trivia Domination, Jealousy, The Author Doesn’t Actually Know a Lot of Trivia, She Probably Should Have Chosen Another Premise, Whatever, Too Late Now
Collections: Aeneas and Lavinia Week Stats: Words: 1754 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 34 Kudos: 115
Bookmarks: 8
Trivial Concerns
Unapologetic Lavinia Stan
Summary:
Dido and Lavinia don’t like one another. More specifically, Dido hates Lavinia for dating Dido’s ex, and Lavinia does her best to avoid Dido. But when trivia competitions call, a woman must answer.
Notes:
A response to the prompt: a showdown between Aeneas’s two lady loves. Thank you to Book!AeneasWouldNever, as always, for your insightful, patient, supportive beta services.
* * *
. . . next round, their score now tied.
A new question appeared on the screen. This movie won James Cameron a golden statuette for Best Director in 1998.
Well, that was obvious enough. Lavinia managed to ring in first. “Titanic.”
“Ah, yes.” Dido straightened into her Class President stance, eyes narrowed. “The story of how true love never dies, even after a lengthy separation.”
Lavinia rolled her eyes. “Rose eventually had kids with another dude, Dido. She got over it.”
The unspoken message: Maybe you should too.
“She waited eighty-four years to say goodbye to Jack. Eighty. Four. Years,” Dido retorted, hands on her hips.
Lavinia threw her own hands in the air. “Instead of waiting eighty-four years, maybe she should have moved her butt a bit to the side and shared the damn board with him in the first place!”
“Ladies—” the teacher in charge began.
“If he’d let her, she would have!” Dido yelled. “But he just turned into a Popsicle without warning her!”