Just a short drabble. I own nothing, and make no profit. Feedback is appreciated. Enjoy.
Piz didn't spin.
Duncan hadn't either. Neither had Troy or Leo. It had never mattered before. But now, all she could think of was that Piz didn't spin. When they kissed he'd just hold her to him, like he was afraid of losing her. It was warm, and nice. But, it wasn't spinning. They didn't come together with such force that standing still wasn't an option. When she was kissing Piz she knew where she was, and how to move her feet as needed. Why bother spinning if you could walk straight?
Parker hated spinning.
Parker made him stop after the first try. Her wig had gotten caught between him and the wall, tugging it off in the process. She had cried then, and he had held her and rubbed small circles on her back, promising not to spin again. He didn't mind the promise, it hadn't been the same anyway. Her feet had been fumbling the whole time, and his body didn't seem to fit around hers quite the way he thought it should, like it was too tall, or just- different.
Piz didn't spin, but cars did.
A puddle of water after a long overdue rain, that was all it took. She'd turned a corner, and she was spinning. It was like childhood, when you'd spin and spin until you couldn't walk straight. Until you were dizzy and light headed, and giggling with some giddy joy you hadn't known. But her childhood hadn't been like that. The dizziness in childhood had been her mother's binges, nothing to giggle about. So as she spun she didn't think of her childhood, she thought of him. The way the spinning clutched her stomach, she couldn't help it.
She thought of his arms around her, protecting her like the seat belt, holding her still amidst the motion. She thought of his lips against hers, holding her world together and simultaneously tearing its foundation apart. She thought of him.
Parker hated spinning, but wheels didn't.
Wheels were made to spin, made to force their treads against the road propelling passengers to their destinations. His wheels were spinning too quickly, he knew. Horns honked everywhere, and cars swerved to avoid the SUV that was careening towards them, through lights and turns as though obstacles didn't exist. There could be no more obstacles.
He thought of everything that had kept them apart, everything that had blocked them from really getting close. He thought of her fear, all her emotions so strong, so poignant, and he couldn't stand seeing her afraid, couldn't stand not having been there. He thought of her.
Piz didn't spin, but cars did. And she survived.
They'd called 911. Everyone who had seen her hit the unforgiving pole had called the same number. But in the car, dazed and about to pass out, her fingers had found a different pattern in her phone. She never pressed send, but the name was there, the only name she'd thought since she lost control. He was always the only thought when she lost control.
He stole her control and let her spin, let her be free for a few moments. And she was the unforgiving pole that stopped it all. That couldn't accept a tumbling reality, and had to force structure and stability into the rush. Stability it was never meant to have.
She wanted to move, stuck in her hospital bed, tied down with tubes. She wanted to spin, caught up in his arms and his lips. She wanted to see him again, her body on the verge of giving up, her mind took control. She wanted to survive. She wanted Logan.
Parker hated spinning, but wheels didn't. And he lived.
It had been a miracle that the sheriff's department hadn't stopped him. Or at least, that they hadn't tried. Since the hospital's call, nothing could stop him. He was blurry on why they'd called him, something about her phone dialing, and her father being out of reach. He hadn't heard anything but her location, and that was all he needed to know.
She'd never let him know where she was. Physically or mentally, she'd never really let him get a feel for where she was at, what he could or should do. She kept him at arm's length, a step further than her father, a step further than her friends. But it didn't matter, he didn't care.
He wanted her to let him in, to let them be together completely and forever. He wanted to hold her to him and spin again, like they had when nothing could hold them back. He wanted them to live. He wanted Veronica.
Piz didn't stay.
Parker hated leaving.
They just weren't meant to spin.
So when she stood in her big white dress, and I've Had the Time of my Life played, she took his hands and let him spin her.
And when he looked down and saw the lights sparkle off her ring, he spun.