the marriage (john shelby.)

Thirty Nine.

♚

Whiskey tasted like utter shit. There was no two ways about it. But Amelia and John relies upon it to get the drunk as fast as humanely possible. Amelia was two thirds of the way through the bottom all singlehandedly and was waiting for John to finish putting the kids to bed so he could help her out.

"Give me that fucking bottle." John burst through the door and pointed towards the alcohol. "Those twins are a fucking nightmare."

"You love them to bits John." She handed him the bottle of whiskey which he downed in one.

"I love you to bits too. I hope this Christmas goes alright." He remarked and slumped in his seat.

"It'll be fine. What have you got me?" She smiled and sat forward with her chin resting in her hands, her eyes filled with adoration.

"Mistletoe. In my pants." He smirked.

"Cheeky shit." She went over to him and kissed him hard.

She pulled him up from his seat so they were stood in the middle of the living room. The fire crackling in the background was the only noise to be heard, but she started to pull him into a dance.

"What are you doing? You're fucking mental Amy." He laughed.

"Just shush." She whispered.

Their foreheads were pressed together as they attempted to move their drunken feet in an orderly fashion. The little bubble they were in felt truly unpoppable. Little laughs were emitted as the stepped around the room and attempted to dance. They also tried their hardest not to trip over the two dogs, who seemed to be dancing with them as they chased their own tails.

"That's my foot you fucking brute." She laughed as John squashed her toes.

"Your feet were in my way!" He protested.

John lead her into a spin under his arm. Her hair flicked him in the face as she spun causing him to splutter.

"Sorry love." She smiled.

"Why the fuck are we doing this?" John asked as he pressed their foreheads together again.

"I never get you to myself. If it's not the kids then it's the dogs, or the animals. I just want you to be all mine." She admitted. "Anyway, I don't see you complaining."

"I'm not. I don't want to waste a second with you." He smiled.

"Underneath that hard man exterior, you're the softest man I've ever met John Shelby." She beamed.

"Don't ever tell anyone." John laughed.

They continued to dance and spin around as they smiled. Amelia threw her head back with laughter as John tripped and banged his knee on the table.

"You clumsy shit." She giggled. "Why do I stay with you?"

"Cause, I've got the face of a god and the body to match."

"And the rest." Amelia scoffed as he lay down on the sofa.

"I'm sorry we fought earlier." He admitted.

"Shit happens Shelby." She shrugged before collapsing on the sofa next to him.

"I shouldn't have shouted at you." He sighed, full of remorse.

"Lighten up you miserable cunt it's Christmas." She slapped his chest.

The two dogs jumped up onto the other sofa and curled up into little balls next to each other.

"They're so sweet." Amelia cooed as she watched them start to snore.

The pair lay quietly as Amelia watched her dogs sleep in peace. John's mind was bouncing from pillar to post as he occupied himself with random thoughts.

"You remember our wedding day?" He asked.

"I was there so I like to think so. What part of it?" She turned to face him.

"When Tom told me I was getting married I wanted to knock his teeth into his throat." John reminisced.

"I'll go if you want?" She pointed towards the door, making him laugh softly.

"I'd have rather eaten my own shit than got married." He carried on.

"The door's right there if you want me to." She rolled her eyes.

"But now I can't imagine my life without you. It feels so odd to think I was married before. I loved Martha to bits. But, god almighty I'm in love with you." He sighed and smiled.

"I'm glad there was a point to that story cause I was getting rather offended." She slurred ever so slightly. "You're too nice to me John I'm actually a proper bitch."

"Nah, you're an angel. An absolute fucking angel sent from heaven." He laughed softly.

"What's the plan for tomorrow? What time are you waking up?" She asked.

"Those kids will be up at the crack of fucking dawn so probably about 6, open presents and be done by 9, get ready whilst I cook the roast for 12, sleep all afternoon, eat dinner and then fuck off to bed. I'll try and shag you at some point." He shrugged.

"John!" She slapped his arm. "After the kids have gone to bed, yeah."

"I reckon we've got a good 2 hour window whilst they all crash out after lunch." John lit up a cigarette.

"You think you'll last that long? More like 45 seconds followed by 20 minutes of heavy breathing." Amelia teases and bit her lip.

John wrapped her legs around his waist and picked her up, spinning her around. His cigarette was still positioned in his mouth before she snatched it out and took a drag.

"Don't do that or else I'll fuck you on the kitchen table right now." He watched her with eyes full of lust.

"No. Gotta wait till tomorrow. Truth be told, I haven't got you a present and I was hoping my blowjobs were good enough." She admitted with a smirk.

John kept a hold of her as they carried on joking and smiling. The happiness was radiating off her face as she prepared to spend Christmas with the love of her life.

If only she knew that 25th December 1925 would become the worst day in her entire existence.

♚

A/n: good luck people, the next chapter is a heartbreaker x