Disclaimer: I own nothing
"time goes quicker
Between the two of us
Oh, my love, don't forsake me
Take what the water gave me"
"What the Water Gave Us", Florence and the Machine
She can't sleep.
…It's starting to be a problem.
She now knows there is 567 dots on the ceiling tiles, and that London shifts in her sleep an average of 3 times per night…
When she finds herself reaching for the pictures that she knows she had to leave. Now.
And she does.
Of course he would be the one to find her ( God's sense of humor is twisted, huh?)
Light drifts in, the cold reflection of the sun, weaving shadows across the Skydeck, the fractured glow mirrored on the black still water below.
… she can't help but think that the stars just aren't right here. Something about the way they wink in and out…like eyes.
Maybe she wants someone to be watching her. Maybe she doesn't.
He doesn't say anything…just leans over the side of the railing, gazing upwards, not looking at her at all. …he looks good in moonlight, older somehow.
Tired.
He looks tired.
(Well, not that she can talk, right? She looks dead.)
He crosses his leg casually, silently communicating that 'he could stand here all night'.
So she talks…
(…because he's there and real and not Cody. Anything but Cody.)
"I'm seventeen today."
…the words hang in the air before being snatched away by the breeze.
He still doesn't look at her, only cocks an eyebrow, a mute ' I'm listening'
" I'm actually hoping that he forgot. Stupid, right?... He would never forget- he just won't talk to me. Birthday or not."
Her voice fades away, waiting for him to say something.
"My brother is an idiot."
He pauses, letting the words stab the air. Eyes fixed on the dark water, he tells the breeze, "We're all idiots, I guess. But when it come to you, little bro loses his head. "
Turning those eyes on her, the ones that always make her come undone. He manages a shadow of a smile, "…happy birthday Bailey."
Manic laughed escapes her, her eyes shut, because it hurts, it hurts- it was supposed to be Cody lips saying that, and now it's not and somewhere in the back of her mind she doesn't care that it's him instead.
"How did we get here?" she laughs, because really, it would be hilarious if she just ignores the sound of something breaking.
He doesn't say anything.
Taking a step forward, he moves closer and closer and when did he ever smell so good and…
…rough fingers brush her face and when did she start crying?
He's somehow holding her ( when did that happen?) and she presses her face hard into his shoulder, her tears staining his shirt, her hands clutching his jacket and she doesn't want this, she doesn't…
… she does.
Dark water whispers from below, his body warm against her, that steady beat echoing in his chest toward her, and she breathes in that chocolate spice in his neck, and maybe, maybe she will get her birthday wish after all.
(She's not alone.)
Suite life, I still love you. And Florence and the Machine.