I should say that this is just fluff and more fluff. I also want to thank the Anon on Tumblr who suggested it.
When there's a knock on the door at one in the morning, you can't help but get a little nervous. Especially when it comes with a phone call on your cell phone. "Hello?" I ask as I slip on my flip flops and tugging my shirt over my head in one smooth motion. How I managed to do that no one knows.
"Hi," she says. Ally.
"What's the matter, babe?"
She sniffles before she answers, "Just open the door, please." She says, almost to the point where I can't hear her. I make it to the door a second later and pull it open after I lock it quickly. She's standing there, wet from the rain, bloodshot eyes, and tears streaming down her face - that might be rain though. "Hi," she says.
"Babe? Come on in?" I open the door wider and open my arms, waiting for her. She runs right to them, and I wrap her in my arms, closing the door with my foot. "Babe, you're soaked."
"I know." I pick her up into my arms and carry her into my room, sitting her on the bed. I then get her one of my old shirts and tell her to put it on so I can dry her clothes. She happily obliges, kicking the clothes out of the bathroom. I gather them up and place them in the dryer on the other side of the house, and make my way back to the bedroom, picking up a carton of her favorite ice cream - Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby - two spoons. She's sitting on the bed facing away from the door with her arms wrapped around her legs when I come back in to the room. I sit beside her on the bed and place a hand on her back.
"So what's the matter?" I ask in her ear. She hands me the newest cover of People magazine.
"That. That's the matter." I see what's upsetting her the second I look at it. It's a clearly photo shopped picture of her and some other celebrity making out; I flip to the article only to see the headline Is the baby Austin's or someone else's. "They think I'm pregnant. They think I'm cheating on you with some other guy. I wouldn't ever do that and here they are saying that I would. They make me look - they make me feel - like I'm some kind of slut who can't make up her mind! Every other week in their mind it's Ally Dawson loves Austin then the next I love Dez or Trent or Justin Bieber," she sort of laughs at her own comment, which is a slight progress.
"Ally, I know that's not you! It never has been you!"
"I know, but I jus-just feel that way. They're calling me a slut just without using the term. They don't know me! They've never met me! They've never talked to me! Like I don't care that Trish or Dez call me a slut, or when I call myself a slut, or the rare times that you've called me one."
"I've never called you a slut," I interject. She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue. I open the ice cream cart and hand her one of the spoons, and she happily obliges by not only taking the spoon but the carton as I go to take a scoop. "Thanks, babe."
She chuckles. "I-I just wish they would like understand that they've hurt me."
"I know, baby." I pass her a tissue from the box beside the bed. "Do you wanna watch a movie?" She shakes her head, saying that she wants to go to bed.
"Will you tell me why you love me?" She requests and I happily oblige. We slide under the covers before I begin.
"I love the way you always make me laugh, and the way you always make me smile. I love the way you inspire me. I love how cute and adorable you can be."
"I'm adorkable."
"Yes, you're adorkable," I insist kissing her nose and then getting another bite of ice cream. "I love the way you show your kindness. I love how I can always be there for you and you're always there for me. I love how you stand up for what you believe in. I love your open-mindness and how gentle you are all at the same time. I love how you take my breath away."
She awws about the comment and kisses me on the check, so I eat another bite of ice cream. "I love thinking about you and your sweetness. I love the sound of your laughter and your smile. I love when you're angry and when you're sad because I know then that I can help you get back to your normal happy self. I love the way you make me feel. I love the way you smell and the way you hold my hand. I love gazing into your eyes, the sound of your voice. I love that you've been able to teach me about myself and life. I love your passion for everything, especially music.
"I love the way you walk, move, kiss me, the way you give me butterflies. I love the way you've brought out the best of me. I love you accept me for me because I know I don't deserve you."
"Of course you do, baby," she responds sleepily. I know another ten minutes or so and she'll be asleep.
"I love your sense of humor and your modesty. I love how my heart races when I see you online, a text, hear your name, anything about you. I love listening to you playing the piano. I love hearing you sing. I love the way when we're writing a song, our hands touch, and I get that feeling I don't get from anyone. I love that I can talk to you about anything. I like the way you chew your hair when you get nervous and the way you can't dance by yourself, but when you're with me dancing people want to know who taught you. I love the way that I just want to spend the rest of my life doing what I'm doing with you right now. I love how I don't feel the need to have sex with you every minute I'm around you because I know our first time can wait and it'll be magical when it happens." Her eyes are closing, but she's not asleep.
"I love how smart you are, and the way you accepted my friends even though they don't treat you right. I love the way you say 'I love you' in different languages when we're on the phone. I love that you know me. I love the way you say my name. I love the way we trust each other. I love the way I know you. I love you. I love the way you make me feel; like I'm someone important. I love how you get so excited about certain things and you tell me about them. I love how we can say the meanest things to each other because that's how we get along. I love that we never really talk about anything but never get bored. And most of all I love that you're not "perfect" by everyone else's standards, because that makes you perfect for me." She's asleep now, but I want to finish the list.
"I love the way you scrunch up your nose before you kiss me. I love the inner workings of your mind. I love how you are able to read, hear and understand what is not implicitly stated. I love that you are able to take every texture in, every experience, every motion of life and put them into words. I love that you can bring yourself to dream so lucidly as you are able to chase them in reality. I love that you are able to go beyond yourself; you have climbed mountains beyond that which you yourself has made. I love that despite this, you are able to dress and provide yourself so modestly, but when you speak it never fails to bring you out above the rest. I love that your words are as strong as the faith you have in yourself and the faith that others like myself have in you. I love that you are pliable with the wind and yet sturdy as the integrity of your being; you can be anywhere your dreams can take you, do anything you set your mind on, and be anyone you dare to become. I love that you do not wait for life to happen; you make it happen. And yet you know how and when to wait for the right things to fall into place. I love that bit by bit, you are changing the world; and I love that you chose me to be a part of it. I love that you are open to change and still love that which value you see despite the change.
"The way you reassured me that I'd never be nothing but your first choice, when I thought I was just the consolation prize. I adore how you sing me to sleep all the time. You're irreplaceable cause I don't think I'm going to be able to find another like you, who'd be willing to do that for me. I love you." I finish. I softly take the ice cream carton out of her hands and the spoon and go into the kitchen to throw the carton away. I then go to the piano room and write her a song that I'll add to the album later in the day.
The strands in your eyes Tell me I'll be And rain falls Tell me I'll be I dropped out I'll be
The color them wonderfull
Stop me
Then steal my breath
Emeralds from mountains
Thrust towards the sky
Never revealing their depth
That we belong together
Dress it up
With the trappings of love
I'll be captivated
I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows
Of heartache that hang from above
Your crying shoulder
I'll be
Loves suicide
I'll be
Better when I'm older
I'll be
The greatest fan of your life
Angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed
You're my survival
You're my living proof
My love is alive
Not dead
That we belong together
Dress it up
With the trappings of love
I'll be captivated
I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows
Of heartache that hang from above
Your crying shoulder
I'll be
Loves suicide
I'll be
Better when I'm older
I'll be
The greatest fan of your life
I burned up
I found my way back from the dead
I tuned in
And turned on
Remembering the things that you said
Your crying shoulder
I'll be
Loves suicide
I'll be
Better when I'm older
I'll be
The greatest fan of yourrr...
I'll be
Your crying shoulder
I'll be
Loves suicide
I'll be
Better when I'm older
I'll be
The greatest fan of life
I go to bed then and hold her in my arms. I add it to my mind on times to remember.
So what did you think? I hope you enjoyed and Happy Late Valentine's Day.
-Maddie