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Assistant: Title: What Happens In Brazil
        Author: shurrup_ash shurrup_ash 
        Chapter: 1/12 
        Summary: She stood comfortably at his side, her arm draped loosely over his shoulders as her perfectly manicured fingertips toyed across the warm skin exposed between his collar and his hair. He was looking up at her, a pint of beer held to his lips covering the smile he’d never managed to shake in her presence. Immediately, he saw exactly what his girlfriend had seen, halfway across the world, late at night, alone in his flat. His eyes utterly betrayed him.What happens in Brazil, stays in Brazil, right?But what if it doesn't?*This is a completed work, so I will be posting chapters daily*
        Contents: Chapter 1: Chapter 1
    

    


  

  
  
    
    
  
    
      Luke
    
  
 
  The familiar ‘new message’ chime dinged from Luke Newton’s phone four times in quick succession. If he had been granted just a minute longer of silence, he’d probably have fallen asleep by the time those messages had arrived. The moment he read them, he wished he’d been granted that mercy.
 
  Antonia:
   I’m f@ck@ng done. I can’t do this any more

  Antonia:
   [1:Attachment]

  Antonia:
   You haven’t looked at me like that in months and you think I don’t notice?? I’m not f@ck@ng blind Luke 

  Antonia:
   Have her. I’m done
 
  An audible groan of defeat escaped him. 
  
    Why now?
  
   Between her messages was a picture of him and Nicola taken just a few hours before at a bar in Rio de Janeiro. She stood comfortably at his side, her arm draped loosely over his shoulders as her perfectly manicured fingertips toyed across the warm skin exposed between his collar and his hair. He was looking up at her, a pint of beer held to his lips covering the smile he’d never managed to shake in her presence. Immediately, he saw exactly what his girlfriend had seen, halfway across the world, late at night, alone in his flat. 
  
    His eyes utterly betrayed him.
  

  This wasn’t the first time she had called him out. Each time, he reassured her. It was just work. It was just one more month, then he’d be home to her and be all hers. But the argument had worn thin. Each time he typed out the words, or spoke them pleadingly into a voice note, he knew she believed them less and less. Because he did too. 

  He thought about ignoring her. It wasn’t the right thing to do, but it was certainly the easier option. Perhaps he could muster up a renewed conviction while he slept and reassure her when the morning came. Luke glanced at his phone screen to find the three dots appearing and disappearing over and over. Another sigh escaped him. He picked up his phone, his two thumbs hovering over the keys. The three dots disappeared again. It was like she could 
  
    see
  
   him. He didn’t dare touch the screen. He had nothing to say, and anything he did say would inevitably make things worse. Maybe it was a combination of cocktails, Brazilian heat, and brutal jetlag. Or maybe he really was just 
  
    done. 
  
 
  Luke:
   I’ll call you tomorrow. Please pick up x
 
  It was poor - he knew that. He just didn’t have it in him. The three dots didn’t reappear again. Luke exhaled heavily, rubbing his tired eyes with the palms of his hands. “F@ck,” he muttered under his breath, utterly defeated by the day. He closed his eyes in search of sleep, but it didn’t come. In its place were twenty different messages he could have sent instead of that pathetic effort, soundtracked by the carnival beats he had heard earlier today at the beach, and accompanied by the crystal-clear image of Nicola Coughlan smiling up at him. His mind was racing and full of contradictions. 

  Luke shot out of bed, frustration spilling out of his mouth once again. He paced his hotel room, circling the space in search of something, 
  
    anything
  
  , to quieten his mind, knowing quite well that the only thing - the only
  
     person
  
   - able to do that was in the room across the wall. Nicola was probably the last person on earth he should go to with this particular mess, but what else could he do? He reached across the bed and grabbed his phone, quickly exiting his messages from his girlfriend (or ex-girlfriend?) and opened his chat with Nic.
 
  Luke:
   You still awake?
 
  Nic:
   Yup just got out of the shower

  Nic:
   You ok?
 
  The sting of tears threatened Luke’s eyes. He’d never coped well with that question when the answer was no. 
 
  Luke:
   Yeah all good
 
  
    A lie.
  
 
  Luke:
   Is it alright if I come round for a bit?
 
  Nic: 
  Aw you miss me already hahah

  Nic:
   Yeah of course give me 2 mins
 
  Luke sighed again, this time with relief. How was it that the very cause of his troubles also seemed to be his only antidote? He took a moment to breathe. It crossed his mind not to mention anything, to simply let her lift his spirits and calm him like she always had. But if there was one thing he’d learned in their five years of friendship, it was this: 
  
    he could not lie to Nicola Coughlan
  
  . She unravelled truths from him with an ease he’d never experienced in his lifetime. Nic knew things about him he wouldn’t tell his oldest friends, or even his own family. She saw through a fake smile as though it was made of glass. Luke stepped into the bathroom and splashed a pool of cold water to his face, clearing his misty eyes. He glanced up at his reflection and neutralised his downturned expression before sliding his room key into his back pocket and heading across the hall. 

  He knocked rhythmically at her door, resolved in his efforts to appear nonchalant. “
  
    Coming,”
  
   he heard her sing from inside, a few moments before opening her door to him. He had barely parted his lips to form a greeting before her shining blue eyes scanned his expression. 

  “Oh god, what’s wrong?”

  He fought to conceal a sharp intake of breath. Her skin was dewy and flushed from the heat of the shower. Her hair was still wet, darkening two damp patches of her pink silk robe each side of her chest. Her feet stood in fluffy white hotel slippers, three sizes too big for her. It was a stark contrast from the high fashion wardrobe and perfected make up he’d seen so much of in the past few weeks, but this was how he liked her best. Authentically, unapologetically Nic. 

  “Nothing gets past you, does it?” he said with a more genuine laugh than he’d expected from himself. Nicola tilted her head knowingly, a welcoming smile widening her lips. 

  “Come on, you. 
  
    In
  
  ,” she ordered, pulling him into the room by his sleeve before closing the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

  Luke’s hands slid into the pockets of his trousers. His eyes wandered around the room. A small grin graced his mouth as he scanned the furniture already covered in what seemed to be the entire contents of her suitcase. Where had she found the time to make such a mess? 

  “How come you’ve got a bigger room than me?” he joked. An attempt at deflection wouldn’t hurt, but it wouldn’t succeed either. 

  “Luke Newton, sit your @rs@ down here,” Nicola instructed, dropping herself to the sofa. “Tell me.” 

  His head tilted in her direction. He let the grin drop. She’d already seen through it. He joined her on the sofa, his hands clasped together in his lap, his thumbs circling nervously around each other. “Have you seen the pictures from today?” he asked, finally.

  Instantly, she grinned. “Of course. I love them. Why?”

  “Antonia’s seen them.”

  “Okay?”

  “She’s fuming.”

  He watched Nic’s expression drop in realisation. This wasn’t the first time he’d confided in her about this. Maybe he’d downplayed it before now, in hope of protecting Nicola’s feelings. Luke knew her better than he knew almost anybody, he knew she’d never intentionally hurt somebody. He knew she was anything but confrontational. He knew she wasn’t the kind of girl who would go for another girl’s man. It just wasn’t in her. But he also knew she was too clever not to notice the discomfort, thick in the air when she and Antonia had met in New York, or how his hand seemed to be permanently occupied by hers the moment Nic came into sight.

  He watched closely as she considered her next words.

  “I’m sure she doesn’t mean it.” She didn’t sound convinced. 

  “She said she’s done.”

  Nicola’s hand flew to his. “Well, she 
  
    can’t
  
   mean that, surely? I mean, come on.”

  His lips pressed tightly together as he met her gaze. He longed for the focus to read her expression, but it never came. He shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to say.

  “Just let her sleep on it, Luke. There’s no way a stupid picture is going to make her leave you. It’s not even like we… like, I’d never even 
  
    dream
  
   of-”

  Luke swallowed hard, praying to any god who would listen that his face hadn’t revealed the sting of her words. 
  
    She’d never even dream of it.
  
   And yet, he seemed to dream of it nightly. 

  “Maybe I could talk to her? I don’t know, maybe I could clear the air or something?”

  “No,” he insisted abruptly. “Definitely don’t do that.” Luke watched her features alter. The bright spark in her eyes was replaced by a glimmer of guilt, causing a knot in his stomach to tighten. None of this was her fault, and he couldn’t bear the idea that she thought it might be. He placed a hand on hers, gently clawing his fingers between hers. “I just mean that, like… maybe it 
  
    should
  
   be done.” 

  It was the first time he had admitted that, even to himself. Antonia was a reality check - a reminder that all of this would be over before he knew it. The tour had exhausted him more than he could ever prepare for. He had felt overwhelmed and overstimulated and entirely out of his depth, but none of that seemed to matter because he was with Nic. 
  
    His
  
   Nic. The one person in the world who could ground him with one look, who granted him safety and security in the circus they had found themselves in. They were in the final stretch and he was faced more and more each day with the inevitability of losing her to the immeasurable stardom headed her way. It was clear to him now that he simply didn’t want that. He didn’t want a reality check. He wanted Nicola.

  “Is that really what you want?” she asked softly, earnestly. Her eyes locked with his. He knew she was searching for signs of a lie, but she wouldn’t find one. She nodded, satisfied with his silent confirmation, and let out a sigh. “Comfort or distraction?” she asked, as though suddenly granted with a new lease of optimism.

  “What?” He couldn’t help but smile at the sudden change in her voice.

  “Well, do you want comfort or distraction?” She slipped her hand from between his and quickly stood up. “I happen to be fantastic at both.”

  
    There she was
  
  . Luke felt the weight of the night fall off his shoulders. He tilted his head and pretended to ponder his options. “Hm… both?”

  “Both it is, baby!”

  His eyes followed her across the room until she reached the well-stocked mini fridge. He studied the perfect curve of her behind as she bent down to scan its contents. His teeth dragged along his bottom lip, forbidding himself to say a word of what was now on his mind. Was she even wearing anything under that robe? She had just gotten out of the shower, after all. 

  “Oh, they’ve the beer here you had earlier, Luke,” she called back, snapping him into the present. “Or, white rum, dark rum, spiced rum… all the rums, actually.” 

  “I’ll just have what you’re having.” Too many choices, nowhere near enough room in his racing mind. 

  “Beer it is, then.” 

  From there, they talked and talked about everything and nothing. Endless anecdotes and effortless banter that released the tension is his body word by word. There were no airs and graces. There wasn’t a beat of silence that could be mistaken for awkwardness. So instilled was the comfort between them, that the pull he felt in his chest each time she looked at him simply became a part of him, as natural as breathing, not to be noticed. They meandered without reason from the sofa, to the balcony, to the messy bed. He had belly-laughed as Nicola shoved a pile of clothing off the edge of the bed with her feet to make room for him. “Don’t even start,” she teased, jabbing his chest with her finger in warning. 

  “I said nothing!” he chuckled, throwing arms up in defence, his right arm falling behind her shoulders as they retreated. 

  “I’m a messy lady and I won’t apologise for it, thank you very much.” He’d never expect her to. 

  “I quite like it actually. It’s homely.” 

  Nicola turned and looked up at him with curved eyebrows, her chin resting on his chest. “Uh, I’ve seen your home. It’s immaculate. It’s like a f@ck@ng IKEA show room.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckled. He remembered how Nic always nagged to hang out in his trailer because hers was a state. He’d refuse every time. Being in her orbit, messy and cosy and chaotic, was always more appealing. “It’s just very 
  
    you
  
  , isn’t it? That’s what I like about it.” He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was smiling. For the first time since his arrival, a calm quiet fell between them. His fingertips paced lazily back and forth the silk covering her upper arm, and hers did just the same along his ribs. They’d spent so many hours this way, curling up for a trailer nap between resets, running lines at his place or hers, finding moments of calm in one another amongst the whirlwind of the past two years. Nobody had questioned it, at least not directly. Perhaps they had been in receipt of a few suspicious looks from castmates and crew, but the right words to hush them came so easy to Nic. It had been too easy to follow her lead. 

  “Thank you,” he spoke finally, breaking the silence softly. She gazed up at him again with an expression he couldn’t read. 

  “You’re gonna be fine,” she whispered in reassurance. “You’ve always got me.”

  Luke gulped down his words before he could speak them. He knew he’d always have her as a friend, and a confidant, someone he could rely on without hesitation and trust with his life. But he wanted more. He wanted every part of her. He wanted Nic to be the one he came home to, or came home 
  
    with
  
  . 

  
    What was that look?
  

   He’d watched her pretend to be in love with him in front of the camera for years. It wasn’t that. He’d studied her face for hours upon hours as they’d encouraged and bolstered each other through eight gruelling months of production, but it wasn’t that either. It was as though a hundred different emotions battled tirelessly for control of her features, each of them cancelling the last out before he could steal a glimpse. Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t read her. For as long as he’d known her, this was the first time she’d ever looked lost.

  “Nic…” he breathed, his chest rising and falling with a quickening pace. His gaze fell to her lips as they parted. 
She didn’t know what to say. She always knew what to say.
  His chaotic mind emptied, leaving nothing but white noise and one thought, clear as day. If he didn’t do it now, he’d regret it as long as he lived. 

  He lowered his head towards hers, tentatively pressing his lips to hers. She responded with equal caution, leaning into his advances gently as though he were made of glass, in danger of shattering at the lightest touch. 
  
    It wasn’t far from the truth. 
  
  For so long, he had stayed on his side of the invisible line they had drawn between them. He couldn’t bear to stay there a moment longer. Luke kissed her again, testing the unchartered waters between them, desperate to receive the response he’d longed for. Nic granted him that wish, hooking her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her in invitation. His tongue explored the crevices of her mouth, tasting her in ways he hadn’t dared to in front of a camera. Even now, as they tiptoed together into danger, he felt 
  
    safe.
  
   Luke exhaled against her lips as every last ounce of tension left his body, melting into her touch. He had lost count of the number of times he and Nicola had kissed - by now it must have been near the thousands - but 
  
    nothing
  
   compared to this. Just as he was ready to commit himself, fingers trailing to her robe tie, he felt her pull back. 

  His heart sank.

  “We should sleep, Luke,” she said gently, though firm enough for him to get the message. His limbs went rigid. He was certain she felt it, or else she wouldn’t have cupped his face that way, gently tracing her thumb down his cheek with reassurance. 

  “Right, yeah… sorry, um…” 

  What the hell was he supposed to say? There was a real possibility he had just ruined the most special relationship in his life. He had overstepped, and she had surely felt pressured to allow it, to appease him before she let him down gently. 
  
    You f@ck@ng idiot, Luke.
  
   His eyes searched anywhere to avoid hers, not daring to explore the icy blue pools that could unravel him so easily. His mind was suddenly very loud, one damning thought chasing after another until she finally spoke, drawing it to a halt.

  “D’you wanna sleep here?” 

  He didn’t know why, but he laughed. Not a nervous laugh, but a 
  
    thank god for you, Nic, you’ve done it again
  
   laugh. She laughed too, catching her lower lip between her teeth. At that moment, he dared to believe they’d be okay. It was just a kiss. One kiss of a thousand. 
  
    Breathe, Luke.
  

  “Yeah, go on then.”

  “Shirt on, boxers on. You may lose the trousers. Take it or leave it.” Nic offered up a hand, inviting him to shake it. 
  
    You want me to shake your hand?
  
   She was ridiculous. But then again, this whole situation was ridiculous. 

  “Harsh but fair,” he grinned, taking her hand in his, before rolling off the bed to rid of his trousers. As he faced away from her, he briefly glanced down at his crotch. 
  
    Barely a semi
  
  . Sometimes, it paid to be an overthinker. Satisfied his body hadn’t revealed too much, he climbed back into bed, by which time Nicola had burrowed under the covers, head barely poking out of the top. “Are cuddles allowed in this deal of yours?”

  Nics lips turned up into a smirk. “Lukey Newts cuddles are always allowed.”

  Luke smiled in response, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around her, pulling her back tight to his chest. Against all odds, his mind quietened, lacking the energy to overthink for a moment longer. He’d never fallen asleep so quickly.'
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