You know you love Charladay. No, really, you do. :D Who doesn't?
This is for Blaire and Rina, my fellow fangirl shippers. –heart- Love you.
[Red]
.a charladay fluffshot.
At first he thinks it's a lock of her hair--her beautiful, glowing hair that seems to shimmer in even the weakest pools of light and burn like a flaming beacon calling him home--that's been blown into her face, and his hand automatically twitches forward so he can tuck it back. Then he realizes that he is wrong, and the apprehension grips him in a deafening wave of panic.
o0O0o
She says she can't remember her mother's maiden name, and, for the tiniest fraction of a split second, he wants to chastise her; why would anybody be thinking of that fact, of all things? They are on a deserted island, for goodness sake! But the laughter freezes on its way out, and the cold spreads through him faster than a wildfire on the open plain, turning his blood to ice.
o0O0o
Looking away from her face is simply not going to happen. His lips in a tight line, he searches it in desperation: is it just him, or does it look paler than usual? Her skin seems waxy, but he can't be sure in the dim light that flickers from the sky; oh, how he wishes it weren't so dark! She looks tired, too, but he swallows the bile rising in his throat and tells himself that anyone would be, if they'd been through all she'd been through.
o0O0o
Her walk seems . . . off, and this worries him. It is as if she can't obligate her legs to move in a straight line, resulting in an uneven gait that seems lopsided, tipsy. But it's not like she has been drinking, and . . . he closes his eyes and forces himself to count to three before opening them again. He approaches her and quietly asks how she is feeling, and her answer takes the breath of out his lungs. The air doesn't return properly for a long while after that.
o0O0o
He can't stop staring at her. She is so . . . so beautiful, so precious to him, and he doesn't know what would happen if he were to lose her. Despite the monster in his head screaming at him to stop thinking about it, he can't not, for, in his mind, to do so would be a very plausible act of stupidity, indeed. Instead, he concentrates on memorizing every one of her features: the jewel-blue eyes that brim with secrets and wonder; the lines of her cheekbones and jaw, somehow managing to be both soft and sharp at the same time; every single golden freckle that spills across her pearly skin in delicate patterns.
And those lips! He can still remember the feel of them brushing across his cheek, soft as rose petals and sweet as honey. His skin burns with merely the memory. Just in time, he stops himself from reaching out to take her hand; he doesn't know why, but the motion seems wrong somehow, like a final act of resolution, of giving in. Like pressing execute in a world where one word makes the difference between life and death.
o0O0o
The truth feels so incredibly good to say aloud. In fact, now that he has said it once, he is suddenly intoxicated with the clarity of his epiphany and is struck by a great urge to announce it to the world. He would stand upon the highest mountain on this bloody moving island and shout it out across the open sea, if he must! Anything, to prove his love. There is nothing like the truth to shove you headfirst into perspective; now, if only life would get a clue on that, too.
o0O0o
Brighter and brighter shines the light, so white and piercing it is as if its goal is to swallow up anything and everything in sight. And it does.
o0O0o
When the radiation fades, there is nothing left. It's all disappeared, all of it gone, and--and then he sees it. Sees her.
The two of them fall into each other's arms, and tears sting their eyes: tears of happiness. They threaten to overflow, and then they do, and the warmness of them is nearly as much as that of the love and purity and passion that burns in both of their hearts. There is no formula for this feeling, no scientific expression that leads you into such a state of recognition; the emotion may be experienced by strengthening the bonds of love alone.
o0O0o
And he is overjoyed and feels like he could jump for glee and yell in triumph, because he sees that the time flash only took what didn't matter.
Awwwww! :3 –loves the last line-
I tried I different writing style with this, so I hope I didn't ruin it. I also was going to do more and include the Jughead cliffie (hence the fact that I came up with the summary before I wrote this), but writing the fluffiness…it was killing me, seriouslah. I couldn't end it with her dying like that! DD8 So I left it where I did. I hope you don't mind.
…I'll love you even more if you leave some feedback, my dear, beautiful reviewers! ;D Charladay forever!
--Annie/;;