If He Was Your Fan (A Henry Cavill Fanfic)

Chapter 15: Sunday, Sunday

"It is quite beautiful." You look around at the beach and water. "I guess the storm is over?"

"I think so," Henry nods throwing a stick for Kal to fetch. "Like it?"

"I'd like to sit here with a notebook sometime," you inhale deeply. "Serene."

"I run here, come here to think," Henry shrugs with a smile. "The waves are still a bit high today, you know, because of the storm." Kal brings the stick and he pets him. "Good boy!" He throws it again.

You sit down on a larger rock and stare out at the waters a safe distance away from getting wet, hugging yourself against the chill of early morning. It is a beautiful day. The rocks watch the skies and waters make peace after two long days of turmoil, and you feel like spectator, listening to the lull of gentle wind and waves with the occasional but welcome sounds of Henry and Kal playing on the shore. If there was coffee, the world would be perfect.

You reviewed the weekend in your mind, trying to commit every detail to memory. You don't know how long this is going to last. Henry seems wonderful, and you don't want it to end, but you want to be prepared as possible if that is the case.

You hear a click and turn, startled to see him smiling at you with his phone pointed in your direction. "Henry!" you laugh, shaking your head. "I look horrible."

"Not to me," he trots to you and sits, pulling you across his lap. He watches legs wrap around him almost instinctively, and he grins up at you. You both stare into each other's eyes remembering this was the position you were in last night in the middle of the bed under the moonlight as it peeked through half open shutters. He filled you in so many ways you almost wept, your emotions were running so strong.

You kiss his forehead, his eyes, his nose, and tilt his head back to rub your cheek against his. You sigh heavily and dreamily, holding him close. He was tender, yet a force to be reckoned with in so many ways. He was intelligent, yet at times, well—thick. You chuckle at your thought, and then rub your cheek against him again. He is strong and vulnerable, like you.

He pulls away gently to look at you. "What are you thinking?"

You are thinking how this weekend changes everything, but you are not sure what that change is. This is daunting and delightfully new territory. You've never done this before-and him? You realize maybe you should be more scared and guarded. The man was known for trysts liaisons, not holding on to anyone longer than a year. You try to keep the sadness from your face and mask it with a small smile.

"So, now, you do know that if Archer does anything at all, I'm taking care of it?"

You blink. "What?"

"Game's over for him, is all."

You frown at him. "Game?"

"He didn't respect my interest in you," he says, his arms cradling you as his hands splay your upper back as he kisses your neck. "and now he'd better."

"Henry-!" You hear his desire and danger in his whispered tone. You look at him, and he has a look that tells you this could be an argument. "You can't—"

He frowns up at you and says, "I'm sorry, I just don't take kindly to how he acted. Tomorrow, I'm getting to the bottom of it at the gym."

"What?" you feel a sudden panic. "What?" Your mind is racing.

"I just feel like your being left was not accidental," his voice is deep again, his blue eyes sparking. "and it was in bad taste, not to mention dangerous."