A / N : Slightly obsessed with all things Who at the moment. Especially these two, who are just adorable. The title of this is from a song by Matt Kearney, because frankly, I'm terrible at titles and the song did send my thoughts spinning in a Rory / Amy direction. Enjoy, and if you like it, please review! :)
Rory rehearses the words a hundred times in his head.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
He whispers them at night, staring at the ceiling. He mutters them to himself as he prepares for his exams, staring at diagrams until the rest of the cardiovascular system fades into the background and he can almost see his hastily-sketched heart hammer in fright, leaping from the pages like a cartoon.
"I love you. I love you. IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou . . ."
He bites it back, time after time, when it springs to the tip of his tongue.
When he becomes her boyfriend – Amy's boyfriend! - he realizes that it's only a matter of time before the words emerge of their own accord, and what will he do then? He won't ever be able to take them back. Right now, the words are safe, locked in his head. They're a dream. Loving Amy is a dream, and if this – if they – don't work out, as Amy's relationships so rarely seem to, then he can go back to being Amy's best friend. He can tell himself he was being stupid, that he never really loved Amy, he just loved her the way she loves him – like a friend.
But if he tells her, he won't ever be able to take it back. If he tells her, it'll become real. (And something about that scares him, far more than he knows it will scare her.)
Eventually he snaps, and just blurts it out.
It is the day of his exam results. He's over-tired and over-stressed. And Amy is waiting for him, lolling against the gate in her kissogram uniform (a nurse, in honour of the occasion). There are whistles behind him, catcalls which make her grin. Something convulses in his chest, not for the first time, and then . . .
And then she's standing in front of him in a whirl of red hair and wicked smiles, her plastic stethoscope hooked about his neck.
"You passed, yeah?"
"I love you!"
Amy blinks, and in that instant, Rory sees it. It's not surprise. It's not even shock.
It's relief.
Just as quickly, it disappears, and jokey, flirty Amy is back. She nudges him in the ribs.
"Yeah, right. 'Course you do."
There is another tiny hesitation. The space of a heartbeat, really.
Amy messes his hair, pulls the pen from his shirt pocket and drums it against his chest, as though debating something. When she pulls him into a kiss, her teeth tug at his lip in frustration, and Rory understands.
"I do," he whispers. "I do. I love you."
Amy relaxes, and oddly enough . .. he does too.