Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: This was a plot bunny that nibbled on my keyboard earlier. A C/Z story, set sometime in season three.
"Zoey…Zoey…wake up…" Zoey felt a nudging at her shoulder, and she begrudgingly rolled over. She cracked open an eye reluctantly to find both her roommates sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her intently. She gave a surprised yelp and sat up, upsetting both her friends, making them fall unceremoniously to the floor.
"Why the closeness?!" she asked, catching her breath from the surprise. Quinn stood up and gave Lola a hand to do so as well. Lola had a huge grin on her face.
"We've been waiting for over an hour for you to wake up!"
"Why? It's Saturday! And it's…" she looked at her watch. "Seven in the morning?! I don't think so! Goodnight!" She flopped back onto her pillows and pulled the covers over her head, willing her annoying roommates to go away.
"Something came for you this morning!" she heard Lola's voice, a little muffled from the blanket.
"Then show it to me later! I want to sleep!"
"Oh, you're going to want to take a look at this,"
"Fine," Zoey threw the covers off and sat up, throwing an irritated glare at the two girls in front of her. "What is it?"
"Look on your night table," Quinn said, barely containing an excited squeal. Zoey turned her head to look at it, and gasped. Next to her lamp lay an envelope with her name on it, and a single red rose sitting next to it.
"What in the world?" she picked up the envelope and looked at it.
"Someone must have snuck in here early this morning and left it!" Lola said, sitting next to her.
"Open it and see what it says!" Quinn said excitedly, sitting on her other side. Zoey, with a bemused look, slit the seal and pulled out the letter, which was typed and printed on heavy stock paper.
Dear Zoey,
I used to think love letters were for fools and dreamers. Words flattened on paper like clay in the hands of an artist, and all the intimate thoughts one wishes to express end up sounding false and cheesy. My thoughts on the matter changed instantly the moment I met you. And then, here I go. Since the instant I saw you, I have fallen madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with you. I never believed in love at first sight, but you changed that as well. You've changed a lot about me in the time I've known you, for the better.
I've lain awake all night (and many others), thinking of you and the perfect way to tell you. I rise from my bed with bags under my eyes and my heart racing, and yet have gotten no sleep, feel more energized than ever. My roommates think I've gone insane. And maybe I have. But if this is madness, I'd gladly be committed. Dawn is approaching; I can see the first rays of light creeping through my window and I wish you could be here with me to see it. Instead, I write this note.
There have been times I've wished to tell you, times when all I want to do is break the boundaries between us and carry you off to a completely romantic and private place. When I see you in the morning and Lola has just stolen your coffee. You simply smile and roll your eyes. Or when you help a younger student with their books that have been strewn all over the hall by passing kids, never minding the fact that you'll be late for class. Or when you flash a smile my way, and I feel my heart melt. For all these things, and more, I love you. There are so many little things you do that drive me wild that it would take years to count them all.
Nothing could adequately express my feelings for you. Everything falls short, and I feel unsatisfied. And so, I pen the words I wish to speak out loud, but can't: I love you, I love you, I love you.
Your Secret Admirer (Okay, that sounds corny)
"Oh, my God!" Lola and Quinn squealed together. Zoey sat there, in a bit of a shock, looking from the letter to the rose and back.
"That is so romantic!" Lola said. "You're so lucky!"
"Yeah, it would be even better if I knew who it was from," Zoey said, folding it back up and sliding it slowly back into the envelope. Lola and Quinn said nothing, but exchanged a secret smile, which Zoey didn't fail to notice. She narrowed her eyes and looked between them. "You know who it is, don't you?"
"Not exactly, but we have a pretty good idea," Quinn said.
"Are you going to tell me?"
"Nope!"
"Oh, come on,"
"No, Zoey. You need to figure this out by yourself," Lola said. She giggled behind her hand, grabbed a towel, and headed for the shower, Quinn trying not to laugh at Zoey's bemused gaze. She snuck out the door to breakfast a few moments later. And so, Zoey was left to wonder who in the world would feel inspired to write something so sensual.