You're My Inspiration…

"Clare?" Eli whispered to me as I smiled at the softness in his voice.

"Yes?" I replied just as quietly, snuggling deeper under the blankets to his chest.

His green eyes stared into mine as he brought me closer to him. I felt soft lips press against my forehead. "I know you had a rough day, but I wanted to let you know something. I found…your English assignment. You left it on your desk after class and left before I could give it to you."

My heart rate sped up; he had read my paper. Miss Dawes had assigned a paper in which we had to write about love. "Oh, so did you like it?" I asked tentatively as I brought his hand to my lips and kissed it, letting my lips linger there.

"I love it; you're really talented, Clare."

I blushed scarlet, settling deeper into the couch we were on. "Well, I wouldn't say that-"

"Shh. Just let me explain." He urged gently, giving me another kiss on my forehead and waiting for me to sigh and relax. "That's my girl." He smiled, keeping his lips on my face and lovingly stroking my back. "Clare, when we first met, I didn't know anything about you. The only thing I knew was that you were beautiful, quiet, and extremely smart. But Clare…you have such a talent in taking your emotions and putting them on paper. It's like…your words are a paintbrush. They paint this picture in my head unlike anything I've seen before. Your words really spoke to me, and all your articles in the newspaper are amazingly detailed. You inspire me." After he had finished, he trailed his lips down my temple and kissed it sweetly.

My blue eyes were filled with tears at this point; he was the first person to ever tell me that. I allowed a few tears to escape my eyes. "Thank y-you," I whispered, hugging him tightly.

Eli smiled down at me, kissing my tears away. "I love you more than anything."

"I love you, too. So much." I replied before sweetly kissing his lips and turning my attention back to the roaring fire in the fireplace Bullfrog had set up just an hour earlier. I was spending the holidays with Eli, and it was Christmas Eve. "Merry almost Christmas, Eli."

"Merry almost Christmas, Clare." He chuckled, lightly twirling a stray strand of my hair between his fingers. "Here, let me move us, sweetie." He repositioned our bodies so that we were facing the fire that was next to the Christmas tree, spooning behind me by wrapping his arms around my stomach.

"Eli…" I asked after a long, contented silence.

"Yeah?" He whispered directly into my ear, making me blush and giggle.

I began softly caressing his arms. "When did you start writing?"

He sighed deeply in thought. "In the fourth grade, when I was nine, a kid named Mike used to bully me. I mean, he'd chase me and I could never outrun him. He'd beat me and I'd always make an excuse to CeCe when I would come home with a bloody nose." I winced, feeling my boyfriend's pain. "Sweetheart, when my mom found out how badly Mike was treating me, of course she made sure it didn't happen again, but…I began feeling like I deserved that bullying. In just the fifth grade, I was already questioning my purpose in the world. One day, CeCe brought me a small black notebook, and she told me that one of the best ways to express my feelings was to write about them. So, in a way, I kept a diary. Eventually, I became more and more fascinated with the stories I could create and the way the stories turned themselves into movies you could read right off of paper. I used to keep a lot of journals, but I switched to fiction."

I ran my index finger lightly along his warm, slender arm that was wrapped around my waist, gently pressing on the contours of his forearm. "Wow. Today was the first day I've ever written about feelings. Katie's position for me on the newspaper allows merely journalism, but Miss Dawes' class actually allows me to feel. I'm scared of feeling; ever since my parents' divorce, I've been sort of numb. I feel like I'm breaking." My voice cracked on the last part, and he hushed me and embraced me tighter. I stared into the flames of the fire, witnessing my walls collapsing. "Eli…I found my parents' divorce papers. My dad ruined the marriage with…repeated infidelity. He cheated on my mom with many different women." I whispered, so quietly I wondered if he had heard me.

"Oh, Clare, I'm sorry." He kissed my lips caringly before settling my head onto the pillow. "Clare, its okay to feel. You don't need to be afraid. After Julia died, I was so used to keeping everything inside. When I cried in your arms in Morty that one day…that was the first time I'd done that in such a long time. Maybe that's what we broke up; I was too afraid to feel."

I sniffled, nuzzling his hand with mine and interlocking it with mine. "Listen, Eli, you know that's not true. Darcy felt…and she tried to kill herself. I don't want to be that way, Eli. I just want to be happy. You make me…happy."

Eli settled his chin onto my shoulder. "It's okay to feel happy, Clare. Happiness is a gift, sadness is time, and every other emotion blends into a rainbow that if found within our minds." I looked at him lovingly. He held my gaze for a few seconds before nuzzling me back into his embrace. "Clare, your sister did that because she was lost. You are not her."

"I know, but these feelings…what if they get too strong? If I write about my feelings like I did in class today, who knows what will happen?"

"You have me; I won't let anything happen to you. What you really need to worry about is keeping the emotions inside; that is actually the main reason people lose themselves. Clare, your parents just got a divorce, your ex is your stepbrother, and you found out your dad caused the divorce by cheating. You have the right to cry a little."

I gulped. "I don't want to cry tonight. I just need you to be here for when I do."

"You know I will." He lightly kissed my cheek, filling my heart with pounding joy. "Clare, you've spent your whole life building up these walls that just don't seem to want to come down. Just let your walls down, Clare. No one can hurt you any more than they already have. Just…please open up. Open up your heart, and open up to me. Let me in, sweetheart. Let me see your heart." He brought my face to his and leaned his forehead against mine.

I smiled. "I trust you." He grinned back at me before I touched our lips. I pulled back after about ten seconds. "Eli, I'm happy. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks; I am happy. Oh and…I love you." I crushed my lips to his and leaned back into the couch.

Eli separated our lips for no more than a second. Just enough time for me to hear… "You're my inspiration." The next thing I knew, his lips were moving with mine, and my walls crumbled to ash.

His lips were clearing the ash. His love was removing the hurt. The betrayal was vanquished by his care. He was my healer, and as his lips attached themselves to my neck, he knew it.

Every writer needs inspiration, which is true.

However, who knew I could be someone else's?