A/N: Okay, I know this story is centuries old, and it’s been posted before… but I feel I need to do an author’s note here.

My. Updating. Skills. At present. Suck. Ass.

Yes, it’s true. Don’t know if you’ve noticed or anything, but real life OFFICIALLY sucks.

I love writing so much, so it’s made me kinda pissed that I haven’t really been able to focus on anything. However, chapter nine of this story is in the works. Slowly, but surely. I need my butt kicking constantly to make time to spit it out by the time the already written eight chapters of this are posted :o)

I should also make another announcement. I’ve started another story. Yes, another, and I know I’m naughty for doing so when I have so many already in the works and seemingly abandoned at the side lines. But this new one I’m very excited for… I’d like to get about five chapters out before posting chapter one so I don’t keep you all waiting for months on end. Jeez, I need to get out of some seriously bad habits. Currently, I’m at the end of chapter three of this new story and very anxious to post it :o)

Finally, just want to say thank you to everyone who keeps reading/reviewing my work. I am alive. Barely. But I’ll endeavour to kick my muse into shape and try to prevent real life from disrupting my most favourite hobby.

Here’s chapter three of Sparks. A ‘lil trip down Memory Lane…

Three: Picture Perfect

---

“It’s easier to exchange rings than get tattoos.” – Zac Efron

---

It’s official.

It’s the most official thing in the kingdom of official-ness.

Like, it’s more official than the official King of official-ness.

Everyone’s been telling me for years that I worry way too much over trivial things. I just never listened to them before.

Or maybe I just chose not to listen to them because I was far too busy worrying over trivial things.

But with a not-so-soothing Ashley Tisdale sitting beside me in the hospital waiting room, nudging me every five seconds, I’m literally forced to listen.

“You worry too much over trivial things.”

My legs are bouncing up and down erratically and I inwardly agree with her. It’s not like I can help it. It’s like some of illness that takes over my brain when I feel I’m losing all control over a situation – and when I lose that control, all I can do is sit back and worry.

Because if I don’t worry, I worry that something horribly bad will happen and when it does, I’ll regret not worrying because it sounds like I don’t care if I don’t.

Does that make sense?

Probably not; but it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s not like I’m going to broadcast my embarrassing, yet official, brain illness to the world – even though all close to me kinda have it all figured out.

I can’t even pin-point why I feel this way about so-called trivial things. Nothing tragic has ever happened to me in life; I’ve never experienced any deaths in my close-knit circle of family and friends, I’ve never had to deal with any really ground-breaking, heartbreaking news that could ultimately effect my life and turn it upside down. The worst injury ever sustained in my household was when Dad burnt his hand when he thought it would be a good idea to take the baking tray out of a hot oven without an oven glove. Slipped his mind, he said.

I still worried though. But I suppose it is normal for a nine-year-old to start envisioning her father’s hand dropping off in the middle of the night from its red-hot, fiery injuries. I hardly slept a wink that night. I was so convinced Dad would get up the next morning with a hand missing and a small pile of black ashes that used to be his right hand lying in a heap on his bedroom floor.

Everything was okay, though. He’s a fighter. He pulled through. Right hand survived what was deemed the impossible.

I panicked like a mad woman the first day Stella started school. I guess it’s normal for a protective – if a little mad – big sister to worry if her little shadow is going to cope okay at school; whether she’d make friends and settle in happily. I was so scared for six whole hours that she was getting bullied by some snotty-faced, evil and spoilt girl who was just jealous over my sister’s obvious cuteness.

But when me and Mom went to pick her up at the end of the day, Stella skipped out of school, swinging her pink Barbie lunchbox back and forth at dangerous angles and just wouldn’t shut up about how “cool” school had been.

Then I started to worry she’d never shut up.

Okay, so those kind of situations… it’s normal to worry, right? I didn’t think my over-dramatic worrying personality was even an issue at those points in my life. In fact, I had even started to think that I’d grown out of it.

Yeah, it’s official.

I so haven’t.

That fact became incredibly and enormously official only an hour ago when I got a phone call from the younger version of my boyfriend. Ashley and I were just about to tuck into a big, fat, juicy burger – the King of all burgers which, funnily enough, was produced by Burger King, when I got a phone call from Little Efron.

“Hey, Van.” He said slowly as I chewed expectantly on my big, fat, juicy burger. “We’re at the hospital. Zac’s stomach really started to hurt and the doctors want to operate.”

Dylan Efron seriously does not have a way with words. Zac had been complaining for days about this re-occurring pain down his side and we just figured it had been something he’d ate. Which, really, is a promising presumption seen as though Zac will eat just about anything without really consulting the ingredients list. Food poisoning just seemed like the obvious answer. His appetite had decreased but we all just put it down to a stomach upset. Nothing serious. Nothing that involved doctors or hospitals or operations.

But with Dylan’s down-right ridiculous use of words, my over-dramatic brain started picturing that horrible scene from ‘Alien’ when that alien pops out of that guy’s stomach and attacks everyone.

Okay, so I seriously wasn’t thinking that was actually happening. But the words ‘Zac’, ‘Hospital’, ‘Doctors’ and ‘Operate’ were doing evil things to my mind and body as Ashley and I literally jumped into her car and hurtled towards Cedars-Sinai General Hospital. I could tell Ashley was stressing; trying to keep her eyes on the road whilst at the same time trying to ease my now uncontrollable mind.

When we finally reached the hospital, I grasped a hold of Ashley’s hand and together we stampeded through the hospital until finally running into Dylan and nearly knocking him over. I think our breathless demands as to know what was going on nearly scared the sixteen-year-old but he just smiled and said; “It’s okay.”

“What is? What is?” I think I was starting to scare him again.

“It’s cool, Van.” His mischievous grin matched Zac’s. “The doc says he’s got appendicitis and I asked if we could keep in a jar. It’s gonna be so gross but Dude, it’s gonna be so cool.”

I felt Ashley’s long sigh of relief as she patted my back and focused completely on getting back her breath. “Thank god,” she sighed with an embarrassed smile. “You had us thinking about scenarios which aren’t really worth bringing up at this precise moment. But, hey, at least it’s nothing huge.”

“Nothing huge?” I was beyond despair. “He’s about to be sliced by a scalpel!”

“For his own good, V.” Ashley patted my back again. “And, hey, Dylan; nice choice of wording. Could you have made it sound more dangerous?”

Dylan shrugged and I wanted to strangle him. “Sorry. Thought you would have figured out the whole appendicitis part from what I said.”

“I quote ‘his stomach started to really hurt and the doctors want to operate’. How the fuck is that assuring me? What’s wrong with just saying, ‘yeah, V; his stomach really started hurting so we came to hospital and the doctor said it was appendicitis but its nothing to worry about’? What’s wrong with saying that?”

Dylan held up his hands in defence. “Sorry. But it’s all cool. I can’t wait to see it and poke it with a stick. Neither can Zac.”

Ashley laughed and threw an arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “I don’t think they’d allow you to keep it in a jar. And I don’t think they’d allow you guys to poke it with a stick. Where is he?”

“Upstairs.” Dylan pointed to the ceiling. “They did all these tests and it didn’t take long to diagnose. But they’re about to take him to surgery so if you wanna see him before they drug him, you better hurry up.” I started to follow at a quick pace, ignoring Dylan’s boasts to Ashley about his first time in an ambulance. “Blue lights and everything, Ash! So, so cool! Zac didn’t appreciate it coz he could hardly sit up let alone be amazed that we were racing through Los Angeles. Mom and Dad are driving down from Arroyo Grande so they should be here in a few hours. I mean, I know Zac promised me a fun weekend when he invited me to stay with him for a bit, but I didn’t think it would be this exciting!”

At that moment I was glad someone was seeing the excitement in all of this. My evil brain illness had reared its ugly head once again and I was still picturing the unimaginable as we reached his floor and Dylan coolly showed us to his room where he was lying on one of those uncomfortable hospital beds with a nurse hovering over him. Don’t get too close, sister.

Ashley had been the first to speak. “Efron! Causing a nuisance again, I see! You do realise Vanessa’s nearly squished my hand don’t you?”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is haggard. “Next time I promise I’ll telepathically tell her not to.” He looked over at me. “Hey, Babe. I’ve got an inflamed appendix.”

“Could you sound any more proud of yourself?” I forced a smile, taking his hand and lacing our fingers together. “Dylan told me you guys want to display it and poke it and I’m sorry, Babe, but I’m not spending the rest of my life staring at your detached appendix.”

“Spoil sport.” He hissed with a small smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“She’s just worried about you getting sliced and diced.” Dylan helpfully answered.

“Can we please refrain from using the words ‘sliced’ and ‘diced’, please?” I blew my fringe out of eyes in frustration. “It’s not helping the situation.”

“What situation?” I felt Zac squeeze my fingers. “I’m only having an appendectomy. Simple as. If they don’t remove it-”

“He’ll die.” Dylan again, so helpfully added in.

My brain illness again kicked into action. “Seriously?!”

Zac shot an annoyed glance at his brother. “Thanks, Dylan.”

“Um…no problem?” Dylan offered. Ashley gave an uncomfortable grin and ushered Dylan out of the room.

“We’ll see you as they wheel you out.” She pushed the younger Efron a little more forcefully out of the room.

I let out a large sigh and held his hand tighter. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? This is my fault. When you started having those stupid pains I should have known something was wrong… like, something worse than food poisoning for a start.”

“Oh, come on.” He gave a throaty laugh and I know he’s in pain. I also know that he won’t admit it to me. “Like you’d be able to tell after me complaining about stomach pains.”

“Oh, I swear if I ever give up this acting thing I’m never going to go into the medical profession.”

“Good job, really. You can’t even cut a sandwich in a straight line. I’d be slightly worried if you approached me with a scalpel and stethoscope.”

I ignored his not-so-witty joke and ran my free hand through his hair. “Still, in scenarios like this, never listen to me. Ever.”

“Even when you’re nagging the hell out of me?”

“I…” I paused and narrowed my eyes. “I don’t nag the hell out of you!”

Zac laughed again and I had to resign to a small smile, assured that he was going to be okay. “Oh, of course you don’t! It’s a female thing, Ness; not like you can help it.”

“Shut up.” My smile got wider. “Or I will put on a white jacket and stethoscope and approach you with a scalpel. And I assure you, I won’t have your best interests at heart.”

Our hand-squeezing and laughs were interrupted by a small group of nurses and a doctor who tried to assure me that it was a simple procedure as the approached him with the anaesthetic. If anything, Zac looked excited and was wide-eyed as the nurse asked him if he was ready and inserted the needle into his hand. He watched her movements curiously and showing all signs of interest which the nurse found comical. He looked at me and made an amusing remark about getting drugged and then they started to wheel him out, our joined hands separating as he winked at me tiredly. As he passed Dylan and Ashley he was beginning to get drowsy as he slowly lifted his hand in a gesture for them both to high-five him and not long after, he was out of sight; heading to surgery.

And now here I sit; knees shaking erratically, fingers twiddling nervous and a not-so-soothing Ashley Tisdale sitting beside me in the waiting room; nudging me every five seconds.

“You’re still worrying about trivial things.”

I sigh, glancing at my watch again. “He should be out by now.”

“He’ll be out when they’re finished with him.” She smiles whole-heartedly at me and I look at her with my own smile as a response. “Would you rather they did half a job?”

I shake my head slowly; my evil, cruel and downright nasty brain making me picture scenarios and situations similar to those on ‘E.R’. “Just… I’m not in control, Ash.”

An arm snakes assuringly around my shoulders. “And that’s a good thing, Ness.” She nudges me jokingly again. “Since you never went to medical school and you don’t go by the name Dr. Hudgens. They know what they’re doing.”

“But, like, what if there’s…” I drift off. “Like, a tube that’s not wired up properly. Or a machine that’s not functioning the way it should. What if some stupid person who should be watching what they’re doing miss something vital. What if-”

“V, he’s having his appendix out. The doctor said it was a simple procedure – he’s done it loads of times! It’s not like its heart surgery or anything like that. My uncle had his appendix out a few years back and he was in and out of surgery and after he spent only two days in hospital. The majority of the recovery is done in the comfort of your own home so you’ll have plenty of TLC to bestow on him.” Ashley finishes her ‘inspirational’ speech with a wink and I know what she’s referring to when she says TLC. She has a dirty mind.

Dylan wanders over to where we’re sitting, a hotdog in one hand and a large brown envelope in the other. With a mouthful of hotdog and mustard, he sits down beside me and holds up the drenched bun. “Wannaf bifte?”

I shake my head with an amused smile and he shrugs nonchalantly, taking another mouthful. “Here.” He says, handing me the brown envelope. “Zac’s stuff. Nurses took them off him for the surgery. They left them in the room but I thought they’d get stolen and sold on eBay or something so I brought them here. And since I’m an Efron and apparently it’s in our blood to lose stuff, I thought I’d give it to you.”

“Thanks.” I reply, spilling the contents carefully onto my lap. His wallet, graced with an embarrassing picture of me inside of it – I sneakily contemplate removing it while he’s in a vulnerable state and throwing it out but I’m sure he’ll kill me. His watch, his star necklace, his car keys… His ring.

With a shaky sigh, I hold it up. I run my thumb over the engraved lettering and my worries start to mount as I stare at it. It looks so wrong separated from his third finger on his right hand. And a part of me really wishes that he was wearing it during surgery… as if it could magically ease my worries by me just knowing he was wearing it as a symbol of our relationship.

“You okay, V?” Ashley frowns as I unclasp my necklace and take it off. “Honey, why are you worrying so much? He’s going to be fine, we all know that.”

“Because if I don’t worry,” I don’t take my eyes off the ring as I slide it onto my chain and put it back around my neck, my fingers keeping a tight grasp on the band. “I’m almost certain that something bad will happen. That something will take everything away and I can’t stop it.”

“You worrying won’t rectify any situation.”

“You don’t understand, Ash.” I look at her solemnly. “I think it does. I can’t help it and I know I’m being stupid but I know if I stop worrying than something bad will happen. I’m scared of losing him.”

---

I look out into the horizon and smile. I’m knee-deep in perfect blue water; the sun beaming down on me and as I shield it from my eyes with my hand, my smile widens and only one thing comes into my mind:

Everything just looks so damn perfect.

Well, it did. Until some evil person decides to shove me from behind and I nearly fall face-first into the water.

“What the fu-”

“Hey, calm down.” I hear him laughing and I am not amused as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind, keeping me upright. “You zoned out.”

“Zoned out?” I fold my arms tightly across my chest and ignore his quiet chuckling against my ear. “I was admiring the view, taking in the delightful sights and basking in this glorious setting. And you just attempted to push me in the water – head first! Way to take the romance out of the ‘romantic holiday’, Efron.”

“Hey, I saw an opportunity and I seized it. Besides I didn’t let you actually fall in.”

I can’t help but join in on the humour. “Yeah, well. Just you sleep with one eye open tonight, mister. ‘Cause revenge is insanely sweet and I’d hate to miss out on an opportunity like that.”

Zac steps out from behind me and entwines our fingers as we step further into the warm surf. “Nah. I’ve just flown you out to the beautiful island of Maui for a romantic getaway. I don’t think you can stay mad at me, Hudgens.”

I raise an eyebrow, a smile playing mischievously on my lips. “Oh, I think I could. I’m still not totally convinced this was your idea anyhow.” I have to laugh when he shoots me an outrageous glare through his sunglasses and he does look genuinely hurt. After nearly two years together, you’d think he’d be used to my sarcastic and joking comments but he still has his sensitive moments that I have to nurture. “Oh, Babe, you know I’m joking.” I fling my arms tight around his neck and peck his lips. “I love that you came up with this.” I rub my nose against his, wishing he’d stop tormenting me by keeping his arms straight by his side as I hang off him. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?” He smiles and I want to slap him. He does that every time! “Anyway,” his tone turns serious and he wraps his arm around my waist, lifting up my right hand with the other and using his thumb and index finger to twirl the gold band on my finger. “I came up with this on my own. No female nagging required.”

I smile as my eyes follow his. “You did hit the jackpot with that one, Babe. There’s no denying that.”

He’s full of surprises, my boyfriend. And he knows just how to spring the most surprising things on you. I always thought it was a hidden talent of mine – I’ve always been so good at determining whether someone was up to something. With my ex-boyfriends, I’d always been able to work it out – they’d give sly grins or subtle hints and I’d be able to work out any birthday or Christmas surprises just from those small gestures. And that kind of annoyed me at times because that meant that I’d never really experience a real surprise.

Until Zac, that is. Since meeting him, these super-talents seemed to have disappeared.

Or he’s just really clever and cunning when it comes to surprising me.

I had no inclination that he was even contemplating giving me a promise ring. I didn’t even see it coming. I mean, I know what we have is serious but I never imagined we’d exchange rings. Some may say that exchanging promise rings at this early stage in a relationship is a bit too forward but I agree with Zac’s way of thinking. We love each other and we’re serious about each other. And if we want to symbolise that with rings mere months before celebrating our two-year anniversary, then we will, thank you very much.

He’d picked it himself; picked it up on our first day in Hawaii whilst I was busy catching up on some much-deserved sleep (have you ever tried to sleep on a plane? It reaches new levels of impossibility). He’d even gone as far as to find out the Hawaiian word for ‘sweetheart’ and have it engraved into the band.

It wasn’t just the fact that he surprised me with it. It was the thought that went into it – the effort. He knows I adore gold jewellery, so of course, he chose the gold band. His preference is silver and so his matches his own taste. The fact that he actually went out there and worked to find out that ‘kuippo’ was the word he wanted to pour all his feelings into meant the world to me.

I couldn’t stop staring at it that first night. Zac had joked that if I didn’t like it, we could have always “gone through the painful process of a cheesy tattoo”. I was perfectly fine with my promise ring.

I let out a small sigh as I stare at his bare right hand; a small part of me disappointed that he isn’t wearing his. But I know how the Efron mind works…and he’s all too familiar with it – assuring me he didn’t want to wear it because he’s so scared he’ll lose it in the sea and never be able to find it again. I see the logic – especially since Zac’s speciality is losing valuables… but that nagging part of me is still disappointed.

As I slowly ease back into reality, Zac is looking over my shoulder at a family playing football further on up the beach and my hand is still encased in his. When he laughs, I turn around to look at what is so funny; our hands separating briefly because I blindly search for him again.

The two kids had just pushed their oblivious Dad into the water and when Zac laughs at the sight, I’m suddenly worried he has just received inspiration to do the same to me. Before I can warn him before the cogs in his head start turning, he grips my hand tighter in his and runs in the opposite direction, dragging me behind him.

“Zac!” I laugh as he hurtles through the small waves, my balance not at its best as he gracefully leaps through the surf.

“Come on, Ness. Waves!” I can’t see his face, but I know he’s beaming like a five-year-old boy on Christmas morning.

“But you’ve left your surfboard!” I call back to him as we edge deeper into the water where the waves get considerably a little bigger. And a little stronger, may I add.

“Nessa, Nessa, Nessa.” He tuts with a dramatic roll of the eyes and he slows down a little so I can catch up. “When will you ever learn?”

“Sorry.” I pout and smirk, my fingers lacing tighter with his. “Silly me; hearing the word ‘waves’ and then automatically thinking ‘surfboard’ has been the norm since you took it up.”

“Well, sometimes it just makes sense to associate jumbo, mega, hella, hyooge waves to ‘fucking hell yeah’!”

“Fucking hell yeah…” I repeat, slowly and sceptical. “Why?”

I forget my purpose in asking a dumb question when Zac beams again and excitedly pulls me deeper into the sea; the nice, warm and soothing water rippling against my waist; the sun still insanely bright from behind my sunglasses.

And yet all I can think about is the ‘Jaws’ theme tune.

Zac’s not fazed and as we wade not-so-gracefully further into the water, my eyes widen as a wave makes its way mischievously towards us.

“Zac…” I warn, turning back to the now-more-than-ever inviting shore. “That thing is getting mahoosive.”

He turns to me and nods his head, a wide grin erupting as he clings to my waist, telling me I’m not going anywhere. “Fucking hell yeah!”

I grasp a hold of his broad shoulders and he pulls me deeper into his arms. “What are we going to do?” I glance back at the rising water. “Drown?”

“No. Jump.”

“Jump?”

“Yeah, you know. Jump.”

“Like…?”

“Like this!” I squeal in sheer bliss as his arms wrap around my waist tightly and he lifts us both into the air as the wave approaches us and splashes against our bodies with force. I can’t help but laugh out loud as I hear Zac chuckle delightfully into my ear, pressing his face into my hair as another wave hits us.

I open my eyes, laughter still erupting out of me with no control and I gaze at yet another wave that heads our way. “Oh, shit!” I cry and press myself up more against Zac for some stability – this wave has got to be the biggest yet.

As the water flattens out again my grip loosens slightly, but Zac only pulls me back closer to his chest and nuzzles my hair. It’s an affectionate gesture I’ll never tire of, even if it causes my stomach to do erratic movements that even gymnasts would envy. I feel him press a small kiss to my cheek and he whispers so softly to me; “I love you, Baby.”

It’s during moments like these when a girl totally forgets about her surroundings; where she is and what she’s meant to be doing. Scarily enough, its moments like these when a girl forgets how to breathe; forgets how to function normally for just those brief seconds because you can’t think about anything else and in all honestly, you don’t want to think about anything else.

My boyfriend really knows how to spring the most wonderful surprises on me.

Before I can even blink, let alone voice my reply, his arms slowly unwrap from around me and his hands rest softly on my waist. He steps backwards, heading out deeper into the water where the sea is flat and we can only feel the small beginnings of an impending wave. His nose grazes my cheek and he smirks against my jawline as his arms snake lower and grasp onto my backside, pulling me up against him as we get deeper and deeper. As tender as the moment is, the ‘Jaws’ theme is still humming away in the back of my mind.

Zac leads me deeper, but not so deep that he can’t feel the sea bed under his feet. Being considerably smaller than his 5’11 stance, my legs instinctively wrap around his waist, my arms circling his neck loosely as he keeps us afloat. He grins boyishly and I roll my eyes in response as his hands remain pressed against my backside, squeezing every now and again.

“What’s with the groping, Efron?” I question, highly amused.

“What groping?”

“The incessant butt groping.”

“I am not groping your butt. You’re obviously imagining it.” Another squeeze.

“Right.” I giggle, latching onto him tighter and feel another squeeze. “Then who is?”

“Nemo?”

“Right. A clown fish is groping my butt. You’re terrible!”

Zac sighs dramatically, one hand sliding up to my lower back to press me against his chest. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m the one doing the incessant butt groping.”

“Kinda figured.”

“But it’s not like it’s my fault. I’m a butt-guy. Love the butt. Gotta grope the butt…” He drifts off and I can see the humour bouncing in his eyes as his head slowly bops to an imaginary rhythm. “I like big butts and I cannot lie…”

“Big butts?” I put on my best hurt expression and Zac blushes before looking at me sheepishly.

“No…your butt…”

I cock my eyebrows, wanting to laugh at how completely gorgeous he looks when he blushes. “Anyway, you always told me you were a boob-guy. Where’s the sudden interest with butts come from?”

“Well, Hudgens,” his grins only widens and I show as much interest as I can muster as he speaks. “We’re in a public place. And in society today, the groping process of the boob is considered to be morally… gross in public displays of affection. Plus the fact there are little kiddies running – or swimming – about and I highly doubt their parents would appreciate the whole boob groping scenario. So, unfortunately we have to save the boob groping for later on alone-time. However…”

I groan and let out a laugh – there’s always a ‘however’.

“However,” Zac kisses my nose. “I am male. And I have an insanely hot girlfriend who, lets face it, is just asking to be groped. Now, the process of butt groping, like the process of boob groping, is considered to be… well, not a spectators sport. However, your boyfriend is so clever and oh so unbelievably intelligent that he has managed to work a way around this. We’re in the water…my hands and your butt away from public view. All we have to worry about is offending the fishes and since they only have two second long memories I figure it’s not a big deal.”

“Zac?”

“Hmm?”

“Shut up.”

“You asked.”

“Really wish I hadn’t.”

He pokes his tongue out cheekily and I scoff before leaning forward and wrapping my lips around his tongue; successfully emitting a moan out of him as I suck on it gently before slowly running my lips over it. He smiles as I do so – I know he secretly loves my teasing. Like any female, I like to tease and no, I don’t appreciate it when the tables have turned and he’s doing that to me. We do have our little teasing-wars which can be amazingly fun but now, floating in the warm Hawaiian sea, I gather Zac’s not up to a tease-war when he crashes his lips to mine and engages us in a passionate kiss.

His hands finally leave my backside and slide up and down my back as mine wrap tight around his neck, bringing him as close as possible without losing too much oxygen. I moan softly into his mouth and he slowly pulls back.

“Do you…” he breathes deep. “Are you getting the feeling we’re being watched?”

I press my face to his. “We’re grossing tourists out with public displays of affection. And as grossed-out as they are, I bet they can’t stop watching…”

“No, not that…” His gaze shoots over my shoulder. “Like…we’re really being watched. And not by tourists.”

“Babe,” I place a loud kiss on his chin. “Nobody knows we’re here. And the people who do certainly wouldn’t notify evil paparazzi.”

“No, but, still… people recognise us, Ness.”

I quickly turn my head and glance around the shoreline for anyone holding a camera. With no such luck, I look upwards for any small airplanes or helicopters. None. I turn back to Zac and shrug as he turns us around slowly in the water, his arms never leaving my waist.

“I think you have an over-active imagination, Zachary.” I smile as his face tilts towards mine again. “It’s nice to know you’re thinking about paparazzi while we’re kissing.”

“Hey! I never…”

I lean up and kiss him again, smiling wickedly as I swallow his protests. “Can we not talk about home at all during this vacation? Nothing about paparazzi or press or jobs or…” I drift off with a small sigh. “Nothing about the reality of the world we live in. I just want this vacation to be us… Where I can hug you and hold your hand and kiss you and love you without worrying whether anyone is going to find out about our ‘little secret’; even if the world already knows. I just…” His hand curls around my neck and my arms fall from his shoulders, grasping a hold of his wrists. “It’s just us. And we’ve only got the rest of the week before we return to all the madness.”

He smiles; the mischievous glint his eyes held mere moments ago fade completely and I’m assured by sincerity and love shining back at me. His hand leaves my neck and his arms encase my waist again as he slowly leans in and we’re kissing. The gentle force leaves me with no sense of stability and I fall back into the water, my hair skimming the surface as our lips continue to caress and devote.

And only one thing runs through my mind.

Everything is just so damn perfect.

---

My worries finally cease as Ashley, Dylan and I are lead by a dodgy-looking nurse into Zac’s room as she assures us surgery went well and no, unfortunately Zac couldn’t keep his appendix in a jar and poke it with a stick.

Dylan looked horrified upon hearing the devastating news.

We finally walk into the room and breath I wasn’t aware I was holding filtered through my lips at a quick pace as I look at him. He looks like shit; pale, dehydrated and yet, still so gorgeous to me. Even though he’s now appendix-less.

We crowd around the bed slowly and I immediately reach for his hand, my other hand coming to rest against his forehead. I know it’ll be a while before the anaesthetic wears off and he’ll be sleeping for some time, but I know my worries won’t completely disappear until he does wake up and makes some crap joke about the situation.

Ashley leans over and grins up at me. “Oh, the pranks we could pull on him at this moment in time…”

“Huh?” I don’t look up.

“You know, pranks. Like he does to us like all the time. Anyone have a pen? I feel a doodling session approaching.”

“Ash, I don’t think…”

“Anyone have a pen?”

“Oh! I do!” Dylan perks up and reaches over to a small table in the corner of the room where a stupid nurse has left a black marker pen behind. “I recommend that you draw glasses on him. And one of those really hyooge moustaches… Oh! And a huge mole right in the centre of his forehead…”

“Guys…” I smile with a shake of my head. “He’s going to feel like crap when he wakes up. I highly doubt he’ll appreciate waking up to find you guys have drawn all over him.”

Ashley rolls her eyes. “We know, V. We’re just trying to get a smile put back on your face! See? He’s fine.”

“I know he is…”

Dylan holds his hand up. “I was actually being serious on the whole doodling session thing. Can I still do it?”

I wrap an arm jokingly around Dylan’s shoulders before slapping the back of his head. “Behave, Little Efron.”

Ashley pulls a chair up to Zac’s bedside and glares at his sleeping form. “Man, poor guy. He’s gonna wake up and the first thing he’ll see is a big, pink elephant.”

“What?” My eyes widen; I sincerely hope she’s not referring to me!

“You know, ‘cause he’s gonna be high on the drugs and stuff. He’ll be seeing a big, pink elephant for the first few hours. Or lots of elephants. Like in that scene in ‘Dumbo’ where they have big, pink elephants on parade.”

I can’t help but laugh as my thumb strokes back and forth against Zac’s limp hand. “Ash, you’re the strangest person I’ve ever met!”

“Well,” She giggles. “It’s true isn’t it? And anyway, at least you’re finally laughing! I told you, you always worry about trivial things; I told you he’d be okay but would you listen? Oh, no! You should listen to me, V; for I am wise and all-knowing, all-seeing and generally, a very intelligent being. All should bow down to me and my greatness! Be amazed at my greatness!” She extends her arms out for good measure and I laugh hysterically at her.

My best friend. The most fantastic girl I’m so proud to know and have there for me.

And I did listen to her. She’s right. I do worry about trivial things in life.

But today was an exception. It wasn’t trivial and it was worth worrying over.

Because looking down at Zac now, lacing my fingers through his and holding his hand against my cheek, I know its official.

It’s the most official thing in the kingdom of official-ness.

Like, it’s more official than the official King of official-ness.

He’s my whole world.

And I’m absolutely petrified of losing him in any shape or form.

He’s a part of me; my whole wide world. Those worries of losing him will always haunt me; will always be small doubts in the back of my mind.

But I’ll continue to love him unconditionally anyway.

Because I know he feels the same way.