ScotlandxReader My Escape Chapter Ten END

(Name) sat in her room later that night, surprised, but pleasantly so, at how the evening went. She smiled sweetly at the memory of his kiss. She gently touched her hand to her lips, how could things have gone any better? She began to write. She finally had the urge to write again. Her hands flew across the page. She was writing another poem. But this one was about all the good in her life. She read it over and sighed. It’s still wasn’t up to her standards so she crumpled it up and tossed it in the direction of the trash can next to her desk. Though the poem bounced off the edge and tumbled towards the door.


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A few hours later a certain Scotsman was looking for her and stumbled across her asleep, slumped over her desk. He smiled and saw a discarded, crumpled sheet of paper on the ground. He picked it up and read it over.

‘Amazing things can happen
Even when you lose faith
Or hope
That love will come to you
Then that person
You thought could never love you
Always has
Was an idiot in the past
And wants to make good
It doesn’t take long to believe them
And this time they mean it
It’s wonderful’

That’s where she had stopped writing, must not have liked it very much. But he did. He put the poem in his pocket and then picked her up to moved her to her bed. He smiled and gently wrote her a note adding his own silly little poem on the bottom and set it on her night stand. He kissed her temple and walked out.


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(Name) jerked awake the next morning and saw a note on her night stand. She picked it up and read it chuckling.

‘Hey (Name) come see me downstairs when you wake up.
Roses are red
Violets are blue
I like that blush on your cheeks
And the taste of your kiss too
-Alistair’

(Name) laughed and got up, got dressed and hurried to see him. She found him behind the bar and waved at him. He laughed and leaned over pecking her lips.

“I’m still gonna work to replace all your bad memories.” He told her.

“I’m ready and willing to give you a chance.” She replied.

“Finally.” He laughed and she shoved his arm grinning from ear to ear.

She couldn’t wait for him to make every moment up to her and then some. And he was going to, he had her now, and he’d never let her go.


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He didn’t have to either. As he stood, in a tux once more in the fields of that same village. He looked back as she walked towards him, being guided by his younger brother, her white dress, loose enough to catch a little wind to flare the skirt around her ankles, and it looked beautiful against her form. She was at his side now their hands together. The ceremony went on. They barely heard a thing, their eyes on each other. Their hands clasped together as they said their ‘I do’s. Her smile was as striking as ever when he was finally able to lean in and claim her lips as his own, he knew that nothing would ever be the same, but he also knew it would be for the best.

Mr. Anderson sat in the back of the ceremony on Alistair’s side of the seating smiling to himself. He’d passed on his wisdom to the next generation, just like his Mr. McKay had to him about fifty years before, and he could picture young Alistair Kirkland doing the same in about thirty years, telling some idiot young man about making good with a young, perfect girl whom he had hurt stupidly as an adolescent. He looked over at his dear wife Molly who smiled at him. He took her hand in the way he had years ago and she nodded at him. He had done good and as the old couple watched the newlyweds walk together from the ceremonial area to head off to the reception at the same pub in town where their faux prom had been held they smiled. They would have a long, happy life together, that was certain.