Why, 'ello my ducklings :) I know I have yet to update iLove Yakima, but I've been having a bit of writers block and decided to write a short one shot to get the juices flowing. Hopefully I'll have a new chapter of iLove Yakima uploaded by Friday
It's not very often I make lists of things. I don't believe in lists, really, or plans. Way back when, I learned that they are nothing but reminders of things you have yet to do. A piece of paper facing you with a burning and somewhat mocking bravado. But writing, just simply writing what you feel, to get it down on paper, is a completely different thing, right? I cracked my knuckles, my neck, my back. I ran a hand through my hair and nibbled on the top part of my pencil's eraser until it was a poor little stub. It shouldn't be this hard. She once said that if you're hesitating, then you may not write what's true to yourself. I sighed and leaned back in my chair, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. You see those colors through your eyelids? I think they're pretty fucking fantastic. I saw them. The bright yellow splotches parading through the translucent skin as my table lamp hit my face. I opened my eyes, and I smiled as I picked up my chewed up pencil:
I love your worship of meat; and how you oh, so generously placed me second on your ranking of 'things you adore'. Just before Bolivian Bacon
I love how your lips turn red in the cold days of Seattle; or when you lick ice-cream off of them
I find it absolutely cute when you hiccup
I love the feeling of your warm, surprisingly delicate hand in mine
And your hair, oh your hair! You have the most beautiful hair in the universe
And The Eyes...I can go on forever about your Eyes. The blue-green orbs that are so stunningly perfect, I still find it hard to believe that they are real
I love the sound of your laughter, and I love it all the more when I'm the one who triggered it
I love how you trust me
I love how you don't try to be anything, and by doing that, you're just...Everything
I love waking up and seeing you next to me
And I love to watch you sleep
I especially love how, once when you caught me doing so, called me a 'nubby perv'
I love our talks. Our conversations we'd only ever speak amongst ourselves
I love it when you sing for me. Because you have no idea just how great of a voice you have
By the way, you have amazing taste in music
I actually savour every moment you hit and or punch me (sorry to disappoint)
I love how absorbed you get when an MMA fight is on on PayPerView
I love timing you when you break into places
I love the thrill and adrenaline you gave me when we first ran away for the hell of it
I love the way your lips feel against mine
And how you admitted said feeling
I love our love
And I love how, later, you'll scold me for writing that corny line
Sam Puckett, I love you
...Like, a lot, a lot
And now I'm walking towards the park with the infamous swing set that I 'dared' her to lick so many years ago. She's swinging idly, clothed in a blue dress, and I'm walking towards her, and I know I shouldn't be nervous, because we love eachother...but still.
"Why don't you look sharp tonight, Benson?" Sam says, sizing me up. "I like."
I tug at my collar. "You don't look too bad yourself, Princess Puckett."
Sam rolls her eyes playfully as a 'thank you' and gestures to the seat next to her, "Well, sit." She commands me and I do so willingly. I've learned that her commands usualy lead to considerably enjoyable things. Such as 'Well, lean.' We swing for a bit in the cool Summer evening air. "So where are we going tonight? There's this new sea food place that opened, and I know you're allergic and all, but"-
"We'll get to dinner later. I brought you something." I try to say smoothly, only to realize how scratchy, how un-even my voice sounds. I clear my throat. "Uhm, you know, for our annerversary and all. Too dorky?" I ask, handing her the folded paper inside an envelope.
She blushes, trying and failing, to hide her happiness. "Yes, very much. Gimme the prez, Freddie! Mama wants her gift!" She says excitedly, as I hand her the envelope. "An envelope? What, did you get me another PearTunes gift card?" She asks teasingly, riping it open with a raised eyebrow as she unfolds the letter.
Sam reads silently to herself, smiling, and rolling her eyes, and then she reaches the bottom of the page, and she just gapes as she looks from the paper, to me, and back again. She doesn't speak as I slowly slide off of the swing seat, kneeling on one knee as I take her free hand, using that warmth to build into strength. "Sam..." I reach into my pocket.
And she's crying now and I'm not sure if it's from disgust or lust. So I continue on bravely, opening the little velvet box to reveal a small, handsome diamond ring. "Do you wanna marry me?" I mumble half-heartedly, chuckling at how stupid I presented the sentence.
Sam just beams and nods and kisses me, and I slip the ring on her left hand. We watch it sparkle in the moonlight. "You're so stupid, Freddie..." She says, wiping a tear from her eye. "God, I can't believe I'm crying. I probably look like a mess right now. Way to ruin the moment, right?" She says, rubbing under her eyes to wipe away smeared masacra.
I lightly take her hand. "No. You look beautiful. You always do." I whisper.
"Dork." She says, kissing me with finality and promise. "I love you."
"I love you, too." I say and I can't believe that Sam Puckett agreed to spend the rest of her life with me. "I always will."
AN: What do you think? Too lovey dovey? Too OOC? I'd love to know your opinions, dear little onions! :) I personally really enjoyed writing this lil' tid bit. Hope you enjoyed reading it. Review please? Oh, yeah, and you guys are awesome :D