Title: One True Thing
Author: Miss Peg
Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, but neither do you, so I feel a lot better about that.
Characters: Emily F. & Naomi C.
Notes: This ficlet is for Jamie, because she's awesome.
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One True Thing
You stare into the darkness, seeking out her shape across the bed because you can't sleep with the distance between you. You're scared to tell her you're sorry, that you didn't mean to upset her. It wasn't intentional and if you could take it back you would. You sigh. Your mind is so far from sleep that you wonder if there's any point still lying in the bed because you're just going to get bored anyway.
You get up and go downstairs to the kitchen to make a drink. You stop when your hand reaches the kettle and remember the last time you were there, with your hand wrapped around the plastic handle waiting to pour the drinks.
"Emily, will you marry me?"
It all came as quite a surprise. You weren't expecting her to ask you such a question, nor were you expecting her to ask it while you were making hot chocolate. It knocked you off the pedestal you had placed the two of you on because life up until that point had been perfect. You wonder why you didn't think to make sure there was a mat below to catch your fall.
"I, I don't, I'm not," you stutter, turning around, letting go of the kettle because there's no way you can be bothered to make a drink now. "I don't think I want to get married."
You see the look in her eyes; the pain, the regret. You know it's probably taken Naomi weeks to get the courage to ask. Every single thing she has ever done for you has been carefully planned and executed. You wonder why she didn't plan this better, why she didn't slip marriage or the future into the conversation before then. You suspect maybe she'd just been too scared to create a situation where you might suspect, so instead decided to just come out with it when her nerves let her.
"Oh," there is a hint of tears in her voice, which makes your throat dry up and your hands shake. You tuck them carefully against your trousers, clutching the material with all of your strength.
"I didn't mean; I'm, I'm sorry."
The words seemed to fall on deaf ears. Naomi stares at you like you've just told her it's over, or that you'd been sleeping with someone else. It looked like she was completely broken by your rejection.
"I'm going to bed," she whispered, standing up and leaving the room before you could even react, before you could call out her name.
"Naomi."
She's not there any more and you know you said it too late. You regret not saying it before, you regret it not being the first thing you spoke instead of your concerns. You wish you'd reached out and taken her hand and thanked her for the beautiful gesture, the amazing offering that you'd been very quick to turn down.
If you could take it back, you would. If you could turn back the clock and have her sat across the room from you again, you would jump at the chance. Instead you finish making the hot chocolate that you'd left earlier and you sit at the table until you see the sun coming up through the blinds.
You think about the past few years, spending every one of them with Naomi at university. You think about the moments you've shared that mean the world and you wouldn't take back for anyone. You think about how much you sacrificed to be there. It hurts to think. But you continue. You think about your final year of college when your sexual orientation seemed to become the only thing your family could talk about, the only thing they argued about. You wonder if it would have been easier to just tell them it was a joke and that you weren't really gay. But you know you are. You also know you loved Naomi then and still do, more than you thought you could ever love anyone.
"We're separating."
You remember your parents sat on the sofa, carefully approaching a subject whilst you sat beside your little brother and your twin sister. You watched them tell you that things had changed between them and that they knew you were all old enough to understand that it wasn't anyone's fault. But it was someone's fault, it was your fault. You can't help blame yourself because you know that the arguments wouldn't have started if you hadn't told them that you were gay, that you were in love with Naomi and that you were going to go to the same university together.
"I thought you'd left," Naomi's voice pulls you from your thoughts. You look up into her deep, blue eyes and you can't look away. You'd witnessed it before, the power of staring into her beautiful orbs. You'd been fixated with them for a few months after you declared your love, you made sure that you stared into them whenever you told her how you felt and you noticed she did the same. When you looked into her eyes you didn't see that love, that strength of feeling you usually saw. You saw sorrow and pain and it hurt you more than you ever thought it would, to see the pain you'd caused.
"No."
You didn't realise that one small word could be so difficult to say, until you feel it burn your throat and you realise she thought you'd left her. You feel tears hitting your eyes as you notice the red stains on Naomi's cheeks. She sits down. You want to reach out and rest your hand over hers, but you can see she's trying her best not to cry and you suspect you might make it worse.
"I'm sorry."
You don't seem to make a difference, your words don't make it better. If anything they make it worse. The words are a verbal touch that you hadn't anticipated having the same affect your hand would have had. You wish you'd gone with your instincts instead. It hurts even more to watch her cry, to watch her mouth press together and the anguish she seems to feel.
"I thought we were ready," she cried out, her voice breaking into a million pieces.
It's even harder to watch her try to speak, to hear her beautiful voice sounding such a mess and you hate yourself. You wipe your eyes and will yourself not to cry because it is your fault.
"It's not you," you whisper, but the words feel useless and disgusting.
"It's not me? What the fuck, Emily? Christ."
You realise how stupid it sounds, how much like an excuse it is. Even though you know it's not like that, you still wish you'd never said it.
"My parents used to love each other Naomi," you try again. "I thought they loved each other. Then one day it just fell apart."
You realise as you speak that your concerns about you and Naomi aren't about you and Naomi at all. That you blame yourself for your parents divorce, that you wish you didn't have a role in what happened, but you do. You think about marriage and how much you'd dreamt about Naomi asking you, how you always thought she should be the one to do it because that was just how the relationship was. You thought about it for weeks after you graduated, after you left university and moved in with her and her mum. You imagined buying a house together and maybe one day having children to fill it. You imagined walking along a beach in a beautiful dress to find Naomi at the other end. You imagined Naomi proposing to you in a hotel, or a restaurant, or even by the lake where everything about your relationship was defined.
"I want to marry you," you tell her and hope that it isn't too late. "I'm just scared."
You let yourself look up, you allow your eyes to meet hers and in that second you fall apart. You know the mistake you made and how much it hurts to have made it. You feel panicked as your heart beats faster and you worry that Naomi is going to walk away.
"I didn't expect you to marry me right now Emily," Naomi informs you and you wonder what she's thinking, if she's okay now or if she's still hurting. Her eyes soften and she no longer needs to press her lips together. Her tears fade.
None of that stops your own tears fading, or your own lips pressing tightly together until you feel them start to hurt. Your eyes fill with tears again and you let them slide down your face until it's almost as red as your hair.
"All I wanted to know was that you want this as much as I do."
Naomi's small smile breaks your heart and you start to sob. You still feel like the worst person in the world. You hate yourself for your parents divorce and for probably breaking up your relationship with Naomi. But then she stands up and she wraps her arms around you and you remember every little thing you love about her. You feel her fingers gently crossing your face, her chest pressing against your shoulder until your turn into her embrace. You reach up and let her lips press against your own and you cling to her like you need to hold on to survive.
"I love you so much Naomi," you cry out.
The words are quickly replaced by Naomi's lips, Naomi's kisses sending paths along your collar bone. You stand up and into her arms because it's so much easier to kiss without a chair behind your back. You wrap yourself up in her body and move your lips along her neck. You push against her until she walks backwards and you stumble through the house, unable to separate yourselves until you fall against Naomi's bed. You undress each other, clawing at each other's skin and pressing your lips and tongue against every inch of each other's body until you're both struggling to breath. You don't care, you keep going because it's all you've ever wanted, to be with Naomi, to make love to Naomi. You hate to think of it, but wonder whether your parents passion was ever that great. You quickly push it aside as your body takes control and you fall against Naomi, worn out. You lay back as she retraces her steps with kisses, lets her touch infiltrate your mind as she creates a path from your stomach to your lips. You wrap yourself around her until you're side by side, lips pressed firmly together, tongues massaging each other. You kiss for longer than you've ever kissed before because you love it that much, you love her that much and you couldn't possibly imagine life without her.
Your rejection the night before is quickly forgotten, you know that the moment Naomi slips out of the bed and comes back with a small box. You raise an eyebrow and wonder why you'd never imagined her proposing to you naked. You wish it was possible to get married naked, though suspect you wouldn't want to invite your family or friends, or anyone. You watch Naomi bite her lip.
"I really didn't do this right before," she whispered, opening the box to reveal a simple, elegant ring. "All my life I have pushed people away and made choices that left me alone. But you never left me alone, you kept coming back and pushing on because you knew you'd be able to break me. There's a lot of things that scare me and a lot of things I think are too much to handle, yet you are the one true thing in this world."
You feel tears crawl down your cheeks again and notice Naomi's face mirroring your own. You reach out and brush them away, your smile growing bigger until you can't help but kiss her.
"Marry me," she muttered into the kiss.
"Yes."
You fall backwards because Naomi's excitement is so much that she knocks you over. You don't care. You just go with it and wrap yourself up in her arms again. You wonder if it's possible to surgically attach yourself to another person, whether they would think of offering such a procedure. Naomi pulls back and reaches out to your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger and you feel your heart swell. You sit up, slide your hands around her shoulders and kiss her again, your mouth opening the moment it hit Naomi's so that your tongue could start working instantly. You feel her fall backwards and land on top of her, your lips colliding again and again as you pull back long enough to take a breath. You would do more, but you know you have the rest of your life for that, instead you just lie in her arms until you fall asleep.
The End
A/N: This was a one shot, won't be continuing, wrote it for Jamie but of course thought I'd share it here too. Feel free to review.