Post by Emma “Emmz” Squalor on Apr 28, 2008 13:30:06 GMT -5
Song Title: I’m With You
Song Artist: Avril Lavigne
Ship: Esmé and Jerome Squalor
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any of the characters or places mentioned herein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler. Maxwell Squalor belongs to me.
Rating: G
Genre: Romance
Author’s Note: I actually had a completely different plot in mind when I sat down to type this last night, but I was unable to find an appropriate song. I’ve been a fan of Avril Lavigne since 2002, and the song “I’m With You” has always been one of my favorites. Basically I just started writing with no real direction in mind, and this was the result. Since it’s a little longer than my other songfics, I thought about taking out the lyrics and making it a regular fic (feel free to disregard the lyrics and just read the story if you like). But because I feel that the lyrics increase the mood and the character’s feelings, I decided to leave everything the way it is.
I have written six other songfics besides this one, but I think “I’m With You” is the one I’m proudest of. I would like to dedicate this piece to four amazing people: Kara, Jenny, May, and Shelly, who are all terrific friends and some of the best writers I know. Seriously, I love you guys.
*hugs you all*
Thank you for inspiring me!
I'm Standing on a bridge
I'm waitin’ in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There’s nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there’s no sound
Esmé was standing over the bridge, looking down into the icy river. She had rushed out of Veblen Hall the very moment Maxwell Squalor had ended his seemingly friendly toast with: “To my son and his wife, formerly known as the city’s sixth most important financial advisor. She is now going by her new title: the city’s first and only adulterous.”
Esmé had been so humiliated that she had completely forgotten to grab her coat on her way out of Veblen Hall. She was halfway down the street when a sinister-looking gray cloud had opened up and released a heavy downpour of rain.
Now she was standing around in nothing but a blue silk dress, which was now soaked completely through, and a child in her belly. As if things couldn’t get any worse, Esmé was beginning to shiver and sniffle.
She thought for sure that Jerome would have come after her in no time, but she had left Veblen Hall nearly twenty minutes ago. It was originally supposed to be a party for just the two of them and a few of their select friends (that is, the ones who had not completely turned their backs on Esmé). It was supposed to be a way to welcome her back to the city after her long absence. No one had suspected that Maxwell Squalor would show up as an uninvited guest.
Why wasn’t Esmé more insistent when she had requested to Jerome to make the party invitation-only?
Isn't anyone tryin’ to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a d**n cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
At last, Esmé dismissed the absence of her husband’s footsteps as nothing more than the cruel outcome of her current situation.
Jerome must really not want anything more to do with me, she thought miserably, or else he would have come after me by now.
As freezing rain pelted Esmé’s skin, hot tears began to roll down her cheeks. Lifting her eyes away from the river, she turned her head in the direction from which she had come. When it finally occurred to her that Jerome was not going to come after her, and that no one in this godforsaken city did give a d**n about her or a child she had conceived out of wedlock, she turned back to the river. The sound of the rushing water was almost inviting.
“Esmé!”
I’m looking for a place
Searching for a face
Is anybody here I know
‘Cause nothing’s going right
And everything’s a mess
And no one likes to be alone
Esmé turned her head in the direction of the familiar voice. Running at full force toward her was Jerome, his arms outstretched and his long jacket flailing behind him. Tears filled Esmé’s eyes, and she ran to him.
Jerome caught his wife in his arms, feeling the sweet curve of her pregnant belly as it brushed up against his stomach. As Esmé began to shudder and sob, Jerome removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shivering form. Her body felt like ice in his arms, but the tears she was shedding felt hot as they soaked his shirt.
“I came just as soon as I could,” Jerome said. “But Veblen Hall was so packed that I—” He was interrupted as Esmé made a series of tiny gasps, followed quickly by a desperate, high-pitched squeak of a sneeze. “Oh, sweetheart…”
“I thought you had finally sided with your father,” Esmé replied through tears and sniffles. “I thought you didn’t care.”
Isn't anyone tryin’ to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a d**n cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
“What on Earth makes you think I don’t care?” Jerome asked. He placed his thumb and forefinger beneath Esmé’s chin, and tilted back her head so that he could look into her eyes. They were blue, the same color as a summer’s sky, and at the moment were filled with tears. “You’re my wife, Esmé. I love you. Of course I care!”
With a loud sob, Esmé buried her face in Jerome’s chest and held him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry I was stupid and… and…” She trailed off and squeaked into his tie.
Jerome sighed. “Don’t be silly, darling. You’re nothing of the kind,” he said softly. “And it’s okay. I don’t blame you for running off.” He put one arm around her and began to lead her away from the river and off the bridge. “Let’s just go someplace and get you warmed up, alright?”
“Jerome,” Esmé said, “I don’t want to go back to Veblen Hall.”
“Did I say anything about Veblen Hall? I’m taking you to the Veritable French Diner where I’ll buy you a cup of hot cocoa.”
Oh why is everything so confusing
Maybe I'm just out of my mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Jerome and Esmé got a seat in a private booth at the Veritable French Diner. He had specifically requested something away from the window, just in case Maxwell Squalor decided to come searching for his son.
“I must have been out of my mind to come back here,” Esmé said as she held the steaming cup of cocoa in her hands and lifted it to her lips.
“Well, I for one am very glad you decided to,” replied Jerome. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
Esmé took a sip of her cocoa and smiled softly. “Even though you only lived with me for six months?”
“Six months is the longest that I’ve ever been with a woman. And yes.”
“When Carmelita and I were staying in that cabin up in the Mortmain Mountains,” Esmé began, “I thought of you often.”
“Did you?” Jerome asked.
It's a d**n cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
“Yes, Jerome,” said Esmé. “I did. And I… I…”
Her words trailed off and she began another series of tiny, gasping breaths. Jerome watched in amusement as Esmé’s long, dark lashes began to flutter and the tip of her nose as it twitched like a rabbit’s. It was just as her bottom lip began to quiver and her little gasps faded when her head suddenly snapped forward. What followed was a sound even sweeter than the one she had made on the bridge— a sound that transpired right inside her cup of cocoa.
“Bless you,” Jerome said, and was unable to keep himself from giggling.
When Esmé lifted her head, his smile only deepened when he saw that there was a fragment of whipped cream sticking to her nose. Jerome leaned across the table and with one quick swipe of his tongue— followed by a kiss —the whipped cream was gone from Esmé’s nose. As Jerome licked his lips and his wife stared at him, her blue eyes sparkled with a delicate light that he had never seen reflected in them before.
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
Jerome smiled, and rose up from the table. He came around to Esmé’s side and knelt down on one knee. His hands were shaking as he reached into the pocket of his Dockers and retrieved a black velvet box. Jerome had originally intended for what he was about to do back at Veblen Hall (which was ironic, now that he thought about it) in front of all their friends. But since circumstances had arisen that were out of his control, he would have to make due with their current location.
This location, Jerome realized, was better anyway— seeing as it was the place where he and Esmé had first met. He only hoped that his wife would realize this if she had any intention of refusing what he was about to ask. If she did, then he was sure that the evening would end in tears— namely his.
With hands that were very nearly unsteady at this point, Jerome held out the box to his wife and lifted the lid. Inside was the wedding ring she had left behind after running off with Count Olaf. As Esmé gazed upon her wedding ring for the first time in more than a year, her eyes filled with tears.
“Esmé,” Jerome said. “Darling, will you do me the honor of being my wife again? For real this time?”
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
I'm with you...
“Yes,” Esmé whispered, her voice shaking too much from the sobs she was doing her best to hold back. “Yes, Jerome. Of course I will.” Tears began to streak her cheeks, and she held out her left hand.
Jerome removed the ring from its box and placed the ring on the fourth finger of Esmé’s hand. He sat up on his knees a little so that he could place a kiss on her mouth, her nose, cheeks, and last of all on her pregnant belly. “I love you, Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor,” Jerome said. “Do you love me, too?”
“Oh, Jerome. Yes! Yes, of course I do. I love you with all my heart.”
A tear rolled down Jerome’s cheek as Esmé spoke the words he had been waiting for more than a year’s time to hear, and he was surprised at just how sincere she sounded as she said them.
“I love you, Jerome,” Esmé said again, “forever and ever. I love you until the end of time, and beyond.”
Song Artist: Avril Lavigne
Ship: Esmé and Jerome Squalor
Author’s Disclaimer: I do not own A Series of Unfortunate Events or any of the characters or places mentioned herein. They belong to Lemony Snicket a.k.a. Daniel Handler. Maxwell Squalor belongs to me.
Rating: G
Genre: Romance
Author’s Note: I actually had a completely different plot in mind when I sat down to type this last night, but I was unable to find an appropriate song. I’ve been a fan of Avril Lavigne since 2002, and the song “I’m With You” has always been one of my favorites. Basically I just started writing with no real direction in mind, and this was the result. Since it’s a little longer than my other songfics, I thought about taking out the lyrics and making it a regular fic (feel free to disregard the lyrics and just read the story if you like). But because I feel that the lyrics increase the mood and the character’s feelings, I decided to leave everything the way it is.
I have written six other songfics besides this one, but I think “I’m With You” is the one I’m proudest of. I would like to dedicate this piece to four amazing people: Kara, Jenny, May, and Shelly, who are all terrific friends and some of the best writers I know. Seriously, I love you guys.
*hugs you all*
Thank you for inspiring me!
************************************************************************************************************************
I'm Standing on a bridge
I'm waitin’ in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There’s nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there’s no sound
Esmé was standing over the bridge, looking down into the icy river. She had rushed out of Veblen Hall the very moment Maxwell Squalor had ended his seemingly friendly toast with: “To my son and his wife, formerly known as the city’s sixth most important financial advisor. She is now going by her new title: the city’s first and only adulterous.”
Esmé had been so humiliated that she had completely forgotten to grab her coat on her way out of Veblen Hall. She was halfway down the street when a sinister-looking gray cloud had opened up and released a heavy downpour of rain.
Now she was standing around in nothing but a blue silk dress, which was now soaked completely through, and a child in her belly. As if things couldn’t get any worse, Esmé was beginning to shiver and sniffle.
She thought for sure that Jerome would have come after her in no time, but she had left Veblen Hall nearly twenty minutes ago. It was originally supposed to be a party for just the two of them and a few of their select friends (that is, the ones who had not completely turned their backs on Esmé). It was supposed to be a way to welcome her back to the city after her long absence. No one had suspected that Maxwell Squalor would show up as an uninvited guest.
Why wasn’t Esmé more insistent when she had requested to Jerome to make the party invitation-only?
Isn't anyone tryin’ to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a d**n cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
At last, Esmé dismissed the absence of her husband’s footsteps as nothing more than the cruel outcome of her current situation.
Jerome must really not want anything more to do with me, she thought miserably, or else he would have come after me by now.
As freezing rain pelted Esmé’s skin, hot tears began to roll down her cheeks. Lifting her eyes away from the river, she turned her head in the direction from which she had come. When it finally occurred to her that Jerome was not going to come after her, and that no one in this godforsaken city did give a d**n about her or a child she had conceived out of wedlock, she turned back to the river. The sound of the rushing water was almost inviting.
“Esmé!”
I’m looking for a place
Searching for a face
Is anybody here I know
‘Cause nothing’s going right
And everything’s a mess
And no one likes to be alone
Esmé turned her head in the direction of the familiar voice. Running at full force toward her was Jerome, his arms outstretched and his long jacket flailing behind him. Tears filled Esmé’s eyes, and she ran to him.
Jerome caught his wife in his arms, feeling the sweet curve of her pregnant belly as it brushed up against his stomach. As Esmé began to shudder and sob, Jerome removed his jacket and wrapped it around her shivering form. Her body felt like ice in his arms, but the tears she was shedding felt hot as they soaked his shirt.
“I came just as soon as I could,” Jerome said. “But Veblen Hall was so packed that I—” He was interrupted as Esmé made a series of tiny gasps, followed quickly by a desperate, high-pitched squeak of a sneeze. “Oh, sweetheart…”
“I thought you had finally sided with your father,” Esmé replied through tears and sniffles. “I thought you didn’t care.”
Isn't anyone tryin’ to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home
It's a d**n cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
“What on Earth makes you think I don’t care?” Jerome asked. He placed his thumb and forefinger beneath Esmé’s chin, and tilted back her head so that he could look into her eyes. They were blue, the same color as a summer’s sky, and at the moment were filled with tears. “You’re my wife, Esmé. I love you. Of course I care!”
With a loud sob, Esmé buried her face in Jerome’s chest and held him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry I was stupid and… and…” She trailed off and squeaked into his tie.
Jerome sighed. “Don’t be silly, darling. You’re nothing of the kind,” he said softly. “And it’s okay. I don’t blame you for running off.” He put one arm around her and began to lead her away from the river and off the bridge. “Let’s just go someplace and get you warmed up, alright?”
“Jerome,” Esmé said, “I don’t want to go back to Veblen Hall.”
“Did I say anything about Veblen Hall? I’m taking you to the Veritable French Diner where I’ll buy you a cup of hot cocoa.”
Oh why is everything so confusing
Maybe I'm just out of my mind
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Jerome and Esmé got a seat in a private booth at the Veritable French Diner. He had specifically requested something away from the window, just in case Maxwell Squalor decided to come searching for his son.
“I must have been out of my mind to come back here,” Esmé said as she held the steaming cup of cocoa in her hands and lifted it to her lips.
“Well, I for one am very glad you decided to,” replied Jerome. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
Esmé took a sip of her cocoa and smiled softly. “Even though you only lived with me for six months?”
“Six months is the longest that I’ve ever been with a woman. And yes.”
“When Carmelita and I were staying in that cabin up in the Mortmain Mountains,” Esmé began, “I thought of you often.”
“Did you?” Jerome asked.
It's a d**n cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won’t you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
“Yes, Jerome,” said Esmé. “I did. And I… I…”
Her words trailed off and she began another series of tiny, gasping breaths. Jerome watched in amusement as Esmé’s long, dark lashes began to flutter and the tip of her nose as it twitched like a rabbit’s. It was just as her bottom lip began to quiver and her little gasps faded when her head suddenly snapped forward. What followed was a sound even sweeter than the one she had made on the bridge— a sound that transpired right inside her cup of cocoa.
“Bless you,” Jerome said, and was unable to keep himself from giggling.
When Esmé lifted her head, his smile only deepened when he saw that there was a fragment of whipped cream sticking to her nose. Jerome leaned across the table and with one quick swipe of his tongue— followed by a kiss —the whipped cream was gone from Esmé’s nose. As Jerome licked his lips and his wife stared at him, her blue eyes sparkled with a delicate light that he had never seen reflected in them before.
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
Jerome smiled, and rose up from the table. He came around to Esmé’s side and knelt down on one knee. His hands were shaking as he reached into the pocket of his Dockers and retrieved a black velvet box. Jerome had originally intended for what he was about to do back at Veblen Hall (which was ironic, now that he thought about it) in front of all their friends. But since circumstances had arisen that were out of his control, he would have to make due with their current location.
This location, Jerome realized, was better anyway— seeing as it was the place where he and Esmé had first met. He only hoped that his wife would realize this if she had any intention of refusing what he was about to ask. If she did, then he was sure that the evening would end in tears— namely his.
With hands that were very nearly unsteady at this point, Jerome held out the box to his wife and lifted the lid. Inside was the wedding ring she had left behind after running off with Count Olaf. As Esmé gazed upon her wedding ring for the first time in more than a year, her eyes filled with tears.
“Esmé,” Jerome said. “Darling, will you do me the honor of being my wife again? For real this time?”
Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don’t know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
I'm with you...
“Yes,” Esmé whispered, her voice shaking too much from the sobs she was doing her best to hold back. “Yes, Jerome. Of course I will.” Tears began to streak her cheeks, and she held out her left hand.
Jerome removed the ring from its box and placed the ring on the fourth finger of Esmé’s hand. He sat up on his knees a little so that he could place a kiss on her mouth, her nose, cheeks, and last of all on her pregnant belly. “I love you, Esmé Gigi Genevieve Squalor,” Jerome said. “Do you love me, too?”
“Oh, Jerome. Yes! Yes, of course I do. I love you with all my heart.”
A tear rolled down Jerome’s cheek as Esmé spoke the words he had been waiting for more than a year’s time to hear, and he was surprised at just how sincere she sounded as she said them.
“I love you, Jerome,” Esmé said again, “forever and ever. I love you until the end of time, and beyond.”
The End