"Wait All My Days to Hear the Words I Need You To Say"
by: singyourmelody
Disclaimer: Don't own Scarlett, Gunnar or any of the Nashville characters. Title is from "Say Anything" by Anderson East and Jill Andrews which is just lovely and perfect and fitting. This takes place after the season one finale, because the writers managed to take my favorite relationship on television and shatter it into a million jagged pieces, so messy and distorted that I almost can't even look at it. Anyway, this is me trying to make it right, at least in my own mind. Sorry if the formatting is a little confusing. I'm still trying to work out how the events of the finale could possibly play out.
He buys the third ring he looks at.
It's round and crystal clear and beautiful, the type of object people write songs about, all hopes and dreams engraved in shiny metal.
The words roll around in his head.
He practices them a few times, tossing out the ones that don't seem to fit. She was always the lyricist, but this is one time he has to get it right on his own.
"Will you?" he says.
. . . and she says no.
He thinks he can literally hear his heart cracking into two.
He stands quickly and brushes some invisible grass off of his pants and slowly starts to back away.
"I- I'm sorry," he says quietly, as he heads towards his car.
She follows him.
"You had to have known this was a bad idea," she says.
"I do now."
She stops him with her hand and turns him around to face her. "You don't get to do this," she says, shaking her head.
"Do what? Tell you I want to be with you forever. Ask you if you want the same thing?" he says, his voice getting a little louder, a little firmer with every word.
"No, you don't get to magically try to fix everything with a stupid diamond and your stupid grand gesture. And you don't get to make me feel bad about saying no," she states.
"I don't," he sighs in frustration, "I don't mean to make you feel bad. I just know I messed everything up and I want to get back to a good place with you and-"
"And you thought proposing was the way to do that?" she mutters.
He looks at her hard.
This was a bad idea. He gets that now. And she's not making this easy on him; he knows that, he expects that. But he also needs her to forgive him. She has to forgive him, doesn't she?
She has tears forming in her eyes and he realizes that he does too.
"I love you. That's all I thought about," he says.
She turns and walks away and he is acutely aware of the silence, of the sudden chill in the air, of the fact that she didn't say it back.
"Will you?" he says.
. . . and she says yes.
She's crying a little, but smiling too and looking at her, he sees everything he ever wanted.
"Yes?" he repeats.
"Yes," she says and then he's standing and picking her up and twirling her around and it's like something out of those romance movies she loves.
They leave her car there and drive back to the house in his and they call her mom first and leave a voicemail for Deacon and they both grow quiet when they realize that he doesn't really have anyone to call.
So she nudges her head into the space between his chin and shoulder and says, "When do you want to do it?"
"Already trying to tie me down, are ya?"
"Hey, you were the one who asked!" she says, pulling back to look at him.
"How about tomorrow?" he suggests.
"Tomorrow."
"Why wait?"
"We can't put a wedding together in less than a day," she says.
And he knows she wants a real wedding, with a white dress and flowers in her hair and Deacon singing some old Cash and Carter song as she walks down the grassy aisle towards him.
If he's honest, he wants that too.
"How long do we need to plan?" he asks, because he's a guy and how is he supposed to know these things?
"At least a couple months," she responds.
"So, spring?"
She thinks for a moment, before her face breaks out into a grin. "Spring."
"Now, when do we get to celebrate?" he asks.
"Spring?" she teases, her right eyebrow raised.
"I think it's getting warmer outside," he says as he stands to look out the window. "Yup, it's been raining a lot. Things are blooming. Must mean winter's over."
She moves to stand next to him. "Spring is coming," she whispers before kissing him.
He relishes the feeling of the cool metal on her fourth finger as her hand runs through his hair down his cheek and arm, finally finding its place tightly in his own.
"Will you?" he says.
. . . and she says not yet.
He shakes his head and closes the box and backs away, but she follows him.
"Did you honestly think I would say yes, Gunnar?" she asks. "We are not in a good place."
"I know we're not," he says. "But I'm trying to show you how much I want to fix things."
"And you thought proposing was the way to do that?" she questions.
He looks down at the box clutched in his right hand and then back at her, this girl who has somehow completed his unfinished life.
"I don't know what I thought," he almost whispers. "I don't want to lose you. I never want to lose you." He reaches forward and wraps his arms around her and she doesn't hug back, but instead just stands there as he moves closer to her.
Her arms hang limply at her sides and she is as far away from him as she can be, even though he is holding her and he's never realized how much it hurts to be unrequited until this very moment. He pined for her for how long but this? This is the worst it's ever been.
He holds her for a few moments, mentally willing her to forgive him, to feel the same thing he does, but she doesn't move.
And he knows.
He lets go of her and takes a step back. "I would never want to be something wrong for you. And if you think this is the wrong thing, then I accept that and we can be done."
Her eyes grow wide. "I said not yet."
"What?"
"I said not yet," she repeats. "As in, 'Someday perhaps, but I'm not ready to marry you right now, because I'm still so angry at you and you managed to destroy everything we had built and how do we come back from that?'" She takes a breath. "How do we come back from that Gunnar? That's the question you should be asking me."
He sits back down on the swing. "I don't know. Maybe we just stay together?"
She follows and sits next to him. "Just stay together."
"Yeah, just cook dinner together and go grocery shopping and sing together in our free time and just do our lives together."
She nods and leans a little closer to him. "I still need time."
"I know."
They sit in silence for a moment and then another before he says, "I need you to know how sorry I am about everything, Scarlett. I just- I just didn't know how to deal with Jason being . . . gone."
She moves closer and sets her chin on his shoulder. "The way it was so easy for you to shut me out scared me. Scares me," she clarifies. "How do I know you won't do that again?"
He turns to look at her then. "Because I've always been quick to learn. Usually from other people's mistakes, but I guess this time from my own."
Her eyes search his for a minute and he can tell that she wants to believe him.
Leaning a little closer he whispers, "Please?"
The corner of her mouth ticks upwards. "I've missed polite Gunnar."
His smile fades. "I know. I need to find my way back." And it's one of the truest things he's ever said. He wants to kiss her, her face so close to his, but he knows this isn't the time. May not be the time for a while.
Gesturing to the box in his hand, he says, "Guess I should return this."
But she places her hand over his. "Or you could keep it for a rainy day."
"Maybe I will."
They drive separately back to the house and he tucks the ring in his sock drawer for safe keeping.
When he knows she's asleep and can hear her even breathing from the other room, he takes out his guitar and quietly writes a new song.
At the top of the page of the lyrics and notes, his committed thoughts and linked melodies, he writes,
'Awaiting'
. . . for Scarlett
Thanks for reading and reviewing. Love to all.