Disclaimer: I don't own Everwood. Hence the name fan fiction.
Okay, I'm not really sure I what I'm doing. I always write Gilmore
Girls fiction, so this is really new for me. Please be patient with me
if the characterization is rough. I really appriciate reviews.
(Okay, so I thrive on them) and would love to get feedback on this.
Wish I May, I Wish I Might
She can't remember the last time she used that word, and she supposes it's been awhile. Her life was hell for a long time, and there isn't much room for perfection in that.
Just a year ago, she hated that word. She wanted to shatter perfection, slam it into a million pieces, and watch as the fell to the floor. She couldn't stand to see something so rigid, so pure, so untouchable, when her life was spinning out of control. She had a plan, and perfection was it's main goal.
But death, that wasn't in the plan.
Colin died and a part of her died with him. She wasn't sure if she still loved him (wasn't sure if she every did, she was young, after all.) but she needed to hold on to him. Some things are meant to be, and she spent her whole life being told that Colin was it for her. Beliefs were molded, and that's that. But he died, and suddenly, there was no plan, at least, not one that made sense. If there was no plan, then how's she supposed to know where to go? Which way is up, anyhow?
But none of that matters now.
She's given up on plans, and it's a blissful feeling of freedom.
Because after all, Ephram Brown wasn't in the plan either.
He's making her so happy, and she can't help but feel that maybe this is wrong. She's tainted now, she's not the little girl she used to be. She sees the way her father looks at her, sad and longing for his little girl. Her mother gazes at her wistfully, and Amy can almost feel her nostalgia.
But then Ephram looks at her, with those big brown eyes, and she melts, feeling so raw and exposed. She's not uncomfortable with him, even with those eyes that can see straight through her. He has a frightening effect on her, with the thoughts melding into one, and the heart that beats at surely abnormal rates.
And when he kisses her –oh, when he kisses her!- she's almost afraid she's trembling in his arms. He's a powerful drug, this one, and the scariest thing is, he doesn't realize what an effect he has on her.
She's made such a fool of herself, crying when he's lying on top of her, gorgeous as ever, his kisses the most intense she's ever tasted. She felt like such a child, all the thoughts and worries flooding her head, stopping him when she was the one that called for this.
And he was so good to her, too good. He just laid with her, let her sleep.
He really loved her.
There's that word again, dangerous, and threatening to hold her emotions in a fragile balance. But maybe it doesn't matter now, the possibility of something going wrong because she loves him, she does. And it feels so wonderful, perfect (though she's hesitant to use that word, rusty and unused).
She's been with him now in a way she's never been with anyone, and the whole concept still blows her mind. She had spent days (no, much more than that) obsessing and worrying about it being perfect, that when she was ready, when he was ready, when it was time, she wanted it to be over. Just get the whole 'first time, bed of roses' deal done with and over, as quickly and unexpectedly as possible.
But then she walked into the cabin, and the roses were there, and he was there, in his most handsome glory, and she freaked. Suddenly, everything was perfect, except for her, and she couldn't screw this up with him. She knew they should have just done it in the back of a car, making it just another physical act, no big deal. But this, this was a big deal.
As it turns out, big deals are very good things.
She was scared at first, obviously, as shown by her breakdown. She wasn't his first, she didn't want him comparing her. It was a ridiculous thought, as things turned out.
He was gentle, kind. Perfect. Hers.
She really needed to stop obsessing, but it was impossible. She was head over heels crazy for him, and she couldn't get him out of her mind. He was beautiful, what they did was beautiful, like a song you never want to get out of your head.
Right now, she lies on her bed, grinning at nothing and everything. She had just hung up the phone, after talking to him. Actually, they weren't really talking. They had spent a good part of ten minutes just lying there, listening to the other breathe.
She loved that she could be on the phone in silence with him and still feel it was the most meaningful conversation she's ever had.
Slowly, she gets off of her bed and walks to her bedroom window, slowly pulling back the curtain. It's dark now, and the sky is clear. Billions of stars adorn the heavens, twinkling gorgeously.
She remembers when she was a little girl, she used to creep out of bed long after she had been tucked in, and come stare out the window. She would search desperately for the north star, thinking it magical, able to grant her heart's desire.
Back then, her greatest wish was a pony. She lets out a small laugh. Things were so simple then. But this, this was better.
She finds the north star quickly, it is second nature, after all. Once her eyes are upon it, she's filled with a sort of reverence. Something that never dawned on her as a child has hit her now.
The north star does not belong to her. It's in the sky, free domain for all.
And we're all under the same sky.
It feels her with a great giddiness to think that Ephram could be looking at this same star, that they are connected in so many ways.
She stares in awe and wonderment. Across town, Ephram Brown has gazed up towards the sky, for no apparent reason. He just stops and stares for a second, eyes locked on one star.
I wish I may, I wish I might.
Wish upon this star tonight.