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Yearning for Our Unicity	By : LuluDreams Category: S through Z > YOU Views: 64 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: all characters belong just and only to the marvelous Caroline Kepnes, Netflix etc, I just own my sick ideas, lol

Chapter List
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Summary:
It's just a toast... or two, or three...
Notes:
Important: at this point of the season (end of episode 2) Bronte to Joe is still a ‘she’ and he’s his own ‘you’. About Bronte, I like to think that Joe was her ‘you’ since the beginning, first for the mission issue, right before the sentimental issue came to play.
Prompt 3: In vino veritas
Summary

Terrible liar

Joes’ POV

You needed that your phone would receive that text message.

You wished it to be from the right person and it is.

Because after that though discussion with your wife who can’t really understand you, and after discovering you caged the wrong twin, you just need a distraction.

Even better if the distraction comes in the graceful shape of Bronte.

After all it’s not that you can do much tonight about what happened with Maddie.

You don’t even know what to do with her right now, maybe taking your mind off will do you good.
And a night in the cage won’t kill her… for now.

Just the time to pick the phone, select the very familiar number and say you’ll be in your bookstore doing inventory tonight.
After all it’s half truth, if Kate wants to track you down with the GPS she will just see your car parked just where you told her you would be.
At Mooney’s.

It’s not that GPS can reveal you’re there but just upstairs, is it?

I’m so glad that technology hasn't ruined us all yet.

Of course you have a copy of the key of your own apartment, but you must play the good guy and knock at the door, just like every polite guest would do.
Although it just feels so weird.

Bronte’s POV

‘Hey. What about a little toast to celebrate the re-hiring and the apartment? If you’re up to it, meet me at 9:30 p.m. at my place… which is technically yours. Whatever!”

Be honest, Louise, how many chances were there that such an awkward text message would get a positive answer?

But it did and now I have less than thirty minutes to get ready.

Not that it should have a big deal, it’s not like a date, right? It’s just for a toast.

But I guess that it’s only a good host duty to take a shower, wash hair and look decent.

Then I choose an average outfit, a black dress with coloured butterflies and an orange cardigan, I place the glasses and the bottles on the table and I just wait for you.

Sure I could have gone to my friends to give them the big news.
No one expected you to give me a whole apartment.
No one expected you to hire me again.
Oh, wait, no one expected you to hire me, in the first place.
My friend gaslighted me into thinking of you as nothing but a selfish, snobby, heartless monster.
But I didn’t find any of this.
Maybe at the beginning you treated me with cold detachment, but only because I insisted on putting that detachment between us; with my non stop witty remarks about your rich status.
Instead now images of you sleeping on the floor, locked in that cage, flood my mind.
This is stuff you can’t find online.
I don’t even know if I’m going to talk with my friends about this discovery, such as about your dark writing.
I mean, okay, it’s scarily violent, but it’s not a crime to do that just on paper sheets!
Well, fuck my friends, for once.
This night is just for us, whatever this night is.

I hear you knocking at the door and I rush to open.
Like every proper polite host would.

Joe’s POV

“Hello, Bronte.” You smile at her, handing her the finest red wine bottle you managed to find in a wine cellar here in the neighbourhood.

After all, you’ve been told you should never show up empty-handed.

“Oh, thank you. I had bought some Chateau-something at a discount, but this is a lot better!” she smiles. “Well, I would say to you: “Have a set and make yourself at home.” but it would sound a bit weird.”

“Just a little.” You smile back at her, as you sit on the chaise longue.

“I hope that after six hundred Michelin starred restaurants, you haven't become way too picky about food, because I’m an awful cook and microwaved Macaroni and Cheese is the best I can offer.”

“And I’m sure they’ll taste like Nouvelle Cousine.”

Actually they don’t, but you’re too polite to hurt her feelings, and a way too good actor to make her notice.

At least there’s the wine.

She decided to start with the discount one because she wants to keep the best one for later.

She fills the glass, her big blue eyes never leaving yours.

“To second chances and very pleasant surprises!” She raises her glass and you mirror her actions.

You taste the wine and it’s not even that bad, but you are not sure anymore if it’s the wine itself or the company.

It makes you feel really comfortable talking with her about anything, so much that both of you don’t even seem to notice all the glasses you emptied.

And when she asks you to open the bottle you gave to her, you feel so light-headed.

“Thhiiisss wine is sooooo awesome!” You heard her slurring. “Jussht liiiike yaa!”

What?
No, no, no, just pretend you didn’t hear her… and what are you doing?
Just stop filling the glasses again.
Okay, fill them, if you think it’s cool, but at least don’t drink yours… no!

“What did yaaa juuust say?” You ask her.

Dammit. When did I stop listening to myself?

“You heard me.” She replies, sliding closer to you… or is it you who did that?

“Thaaaank ya for coming. I’m spending a woooonderfuuuul night…” She smiles.

“Yeah, mee, too.”

Wait, this is not what you’re supposed to reply.

Just like you’re not supposed to bend over her, stop it, fucking stop it.

Just when we’re so close to kiss you see her back off.

“Oh Joe, I wiiiisssh it can beeee true.”

Bronte’s POV

What the fuck did I just say?

And the way you’re frowning at me now…

Okay, they say ‘In vino veritas’ but, geez, Louise, you’re not supposed to fuck your cover and the whole mission up just because you drank a bit too much, right?

I know what I meant, if only this could be true, if only this could be a genuine date between normal people who causally met; if only I wasn’t doing that with a specific goal, but because I ‘m moved by something I’m not even supposed to feel.
And since I’m making wishes… if only you weren’t married!

But of course, I can’t tell ya anything of this.

“What did ya just say?” You ask me.

“I said: ‘Oh Joe.’”

“I mean after that. You said: “I wish it can be true.” What’s not true?” You question me.

“Naaahhhh. I just said: “Whiskeeyy can. Liteer. I wish I could drink a can of whiskeeeyy right now.”

Oh god, when did I turn so pathetic?

At least you chuckle.

“Ya’re such a terrible liar wheeeen ya’re drruuunk!”

Oh no, Joe, I’m a terrible liar, with or without alcohol.

“Replied the sober one.” I strike back and you chuckle even more.

“I guess I understood what you mean.”

Oh shit, that’s it, I’m dead. You figured out I’m trying to set you up… and now what is gonna happen? I shiver so much I become sober in a heartbeat.

“You.. you did?”

“You wish it caaan be true, the conviction that thiiis is a romantic date, but it’s not, because we caaan’t allow to be romantic, for a million reasons…”

Oh, thank God, that’s what you figured out!

The mission is safe, for now.

“You’re right… that’s why I think you’d better go.”

“Anotooher issue we boooth agree on.” You nod, getting up.

“What about pretending this conversation never happened and we meet tomorrow at work, acting totally unaware?” I suggest as I walk you to the door.

“I say that thiiis amount of alcohol could make us unaware even without pretending…” You chuckle. “And I guess I’ll go to sober up downstairs, I can’t really make Kate see me like this. Goodnight, Bronte.” You leave as I close the door.

Goodnight, constant doubt about my mission.

--
THE END
Notes:
It's so much fun writing with this Joe's POV , as it's so much fun to make them slur.
After all, they're not 'my' characters, until they get drunk, LOL.
Hope you are liking it,
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Yearning for Our Unicity

Summary:

Notes:

Notes: