FAGE Take 2
Title: Sunshine and Shag Carpets
Prompt used: Couple meets at the movie theatre - I changed this up and made it the drive-in :)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Twilight characters – sadly. I just like to have fun with them. They all belong to Stephenie Meyer.
Thanks a million to my amazing beta, Claire. I don't know what I'd do without you, sweetcheeks. You tell me what's what and keep my writing at its best. Thank you for always being honest and catching my mistakes. Love you!
Prologue: The Weight of Words
August 27th 2007
"What are you thinking?" he asks, lifting his hand to my shoulder. He runs his fingers over my bare arm, cups my elbow, and softly brushes his thumb over the protruding bone of my wrist. He laces his fingers with mine, placing our joined hands against my naked stomach.
"I'm thinking this has been the best summer of my life," I admit boldly. I try to sound calm, nonchalant even, but my heart is in my throat. I can't believe this is happening. "And you're leaving," I say quietly.
I feel his lips, the heat of his mouth, when he presses a kiss to the top of my head; affectionate, comforting. I close my eyes, remembering the first time we met. I can still recall that day, the way the sun felt on my skin, the warmth of the ocean breeze, the softness of the sand between my toes.
He had pulled up next to me, confident as ever, in his amazingly tacky camper van.
He used an equally tacky line to get my attention.
Hey, sunshine, I'm new in town. I was wondering if you could give me directions to your place.
And he was so smooth about it.
I tighten my fingers against his, and purse my lips to keep them from quivering.
I don't want it to end.
"We've had such a blast," he murmurs, burying his nose in my hair and inhaling softly, "but I...I have to go. You know that."
I love you, please don't leave.
I want to say it, so bad, but I don't. I'm not sure it's enough to make him stay.
"I know," I whisper instead.
His lips move down to my temple, laying soft, sweet kisses against my skin. He presses his chest – warm and firm – into my back, and holds me against him, like he never wants to let me go. My vision blurs with unwelcome tears, because I don't understand.
"This is nice," he says to me, humming in contentment. I bite my lip and hum back in response. It's the only thing I can muster. "I should go," he finally says, breaking the unbearable silence, "it's a long drive."
I flex my fingers, separating his from mine. "Yeah," I agree hollowly.
We redress quietly. I keep to myself, but he doesn't do the same. He takes every opportunity he can to touch me, smoothes my hair from my face, subtly adjusts the strap of my shirt, places gentle kisses over my shoulders.
I stand up abruptly when his lips venture to my throat.
I can't handle it.
"All right then," he says from behind me. I hear him stand up, and he tenderly puts his hand on my hip. His thumb skims the small sliver of skin between my shirt and shorts. "I'll get going."
He gives my waist a light squeeze before he walks around me. I follow him to the front door, where he soundlessly slips on his shoes. He straightens up when he's done, and leans against the wall. Casual, just as he always is.
My lips are set in a tight line. My arms are across my chest. I'm very careful to avoid his gaze.
"Are you even going to look at me?" he asks.
I shake my head, swallowing past the immovable lump in my throat. My denial makes the reality of the situation all too real, and before I know it, silent tears spill down my cheeks. I hastily wipe them away, turning my face from him when he tries to do it for me.
"Look at me," he implores, "please."
I want to refuse his plea, to stand firm against the fact that he's leaving, but I can't bring myself to do it. I self-consciously tuck my hair behind my ear, and glance up at him. I fall in love all over again. It was his eyes that pulled me in the first time; blue, remarkably blue. Like the ocean on a sunny day.
"Don't cry, sunshine," he says with an encouraging grin, "I'll be back before you know it. I promise."
"Sure," I reply weakly, "it's just a year."
He exhales through his nose, and gathers me in his arms. One hand rubs small, soothing circles into my back; the other finds its way into my hair. I tighten my arms around his waist, indulging in the comfort of his embrace one last time.
And then he kisses me. He gently tilts my face up toward his, and kisses me. A sound of complete desperation escapes my lips when they mould to his, because it's bittersweet.
It's a goodbye.
"Take care of yourself, Alice," he murmurs considerately, wiping the tears from my cheek with his thumb.
I sigh in resignation, "You, too, Jasper."
His lips touch mine once more, so soft and sweet it nearly kills me, before he leaves.
I want to believe I'll see him again.