**This is a C&M fanfic which is sappy and romantic! This covers my own version of Chandler's proposal to Monica! Don't flame me for everything being so perfect and unrealistic - this is only fanfiction. Rated PG-13 for suggestive themes, though there isn't anything graphic. Honestly! I'm not into that stuff.**
Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own any - wait a second! I'm bored of saying this! All the characters belong to me! I own all of them, they're mine, all mine...
Ok, they belong to Bright, Kauffman and Crane. My moment's over.
The inky blackness of her hair fell softly over her cheeks and jaw, the overhead light gently reflected in the shimmering folds. She was happy - transcendentally happy. Chandler was -
Even thinking the name sent a warm shiver of happiness coursing through her heart. When she was younger, she had always wondered what being in love would be like. Now she knew.
Chandler was taking her on a surprise weekend trip. All he had told her was to be ready and waiting for him outside the apartment at six o clock. Otherwise, he had been secretive about the whole affair. I wonder where he's taking me, Monica mused as she rubbed some lavender water into her temples. No matter. Wherever we are, I'll be happy. As long as I'm with him.
Monica closed her eyes and imagined Chandler's handsome, chiselled face in front of her own, the liquid blue - green eyes penetrating to the depths of her heart, her very … soul. His lips were curved in that beautiful, slow, gentle smile that she adored. His brown, silky hair flopped lightly over his forehead, catching the light. Chandler.
Monica straightened out her floral print dress, smoothing out a crease in the pastel splashes of creamy light. She paused to look at the clock. Five minutes. Just five minutes! Hurriedly, she grabbed her tartan - print travelling bag and dashed through the door.
"Chandler!" She cried, sighting his familiar figure near the sleek car.
"Hi, sunshine" he whispered, and kissed the top of her head. "Ready to go?" She nodded, smiling eagerly. "Can't wait. Let's go!!"
An hour later, Chandler was still driving. The lush Staffordshire countryside flanked the road, the sun burnishing the trees and plants with a rusty evening glow. "Chandler" Monica murmured, "Are we?"
Almost before she started speaking, a large, grand building came into sight around the corner. "Yes, honey" said Chandler excitedly. "We're here."
Monica gazed around eagerly. The large billboard by the parking lot…could it be true? Ever since she'd first seen the advert on TV she'd wanted to be here! The Alton Towers Hotel!!
"Like it?" Chandler grinned playfully and tousled her dark hair. "Like it? I love it! I love you!" Monica said almost vehemently, and embraced him violently. He was so sweet. She imagined them on the roller coasters together, his hair ruffled by the wind ; she imagined them on the slow, romantic "Tunnel of Love", his arms around her. So much to imagine.
They pulled smoothly into the parking lot and a smartly dressed bellboy ran up to them to show them to their rooms. They wandered into the main lobby, where the chandelier sparkled above them in the sculptured ceiling. Chandler took Monica's arm and they walked over to the highly polished reception desk.
"I've booked the Arabian Nights Suite for two" said Chandler, smiling into Monica's eyes at the word "two".
**
Monica gasped in delight as Chandler led her into the room. It was blue - dark blue all over, with tiny stars twinkling like diamond chips in the seemingly endless firmament of the ceiling. Millions of candles were lit on hundreds of ledges around the room, and somewhere, faintly, "Last night of the World" from Miss Saigon was playing. A plush double bed stood against the far wall, regal, swathed in misty veils of satiny blue cloth. Monica stepped through the right door into the bathroom and took even more breath into her already full lungs. A dazzling marble hot tub was invitingly melded into the marble walls. Polished white sinks with gold taps and soft folded towels on the dresser scintillated in the light. Monica whirled around to face Chandler. She put one hand on the side of his face and placed the other on his neck, turning his face so that his eyes were penetrating hers. His hand found her waist and pulled her close. It was as if he was saying, "I love you too much to let you go."
Their lips softly pressed together, gently at first, and then deeper and more passionately as Monica's body melded into his. They were one person, one soul. Nobody, not even Richard, had made her feel this way. It was a new feeling, a feeling of utter abandonment, a feeling of dizziness and passion, a feeling of devotion, a feeling of love.
They broke apart and Monica smiled slowly. "It's eight o clock. Reckon we should go eat?"
"I'm - I'm not really hungry."
"Me neither. I'd much rather just stay up here - with you - Chandler"
Monica looked down, blushing slightly at the sappiness of her words. Chandler reminisced later that perhaps, she had never looked so beautiful than at that moment, her hair falling softly over her glowing cheek, her eyes demurely lowered.
"So - what do you want to do?"
Monica looked up, her mouth slightly parted. "The bed deserves more than to be slept on".
"I've never heard a better suggestion in my life."
She made a tiny movement towards him, and all at once her lips were softly against his, and patterns were flying before her eyes at the wonder and beauty of the moment. She could hear the song clearer now, and it had never meant more to her than at this moment.
In a world that's moving too fast
In a world where nothing can last
I will hold you
I will hold you
Chandler tightened his arms around Monica and began to sway softly, yet seductively, to the music. She leant her head against his chest and began to dance, as the flickering lights of candles played on their faces and hair, illuminating the walls with the kaleidoscopic prisms of a million tiny shadows.
Our song, played on a solo saxophone
It's telling me to hold you tight
And dance, like it's the last night of the world.
Monica slid her hands up around Chandler's neck, gazing up at him. Tenderly, she pulled him down onto the bed, her hands massaging his back, her mind lost in the labyrinth of emotions she was feeling, and her lips shining from the softness of his kisses.
After it was over, she lay sleeping in Chandler's arms, her black hair flowing over the pillow and her head resting in the crook of Chandler's neck.
Dreams were all I ever knew
Dreams you won't need when I'm through.
Her face was like an angel's, he thought silently as he leant down to kiss her cheek.
"I love you, Angel. More than anything."
So what did you think? Too sappy?
There will be a continue, if enough of you want one! Will Chandler pop the question, or won't he? All will be revealed!!
If you want me to keep on writing, please review, because I will be deciding whether to write a continue based on the number of reviews!
Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't own any - wait a second! I'm bored of saying this! All the characters belong to me! I own all of them, they're mine, all mine...
Ok, they belong to Bright, Kauffman and Crane. My moment's over.
The inky blackness of her hair fell softly over her cheeks and jaw, the overhead light gently reflected in the shimmering folds. She was happy - transcendentally happy. Chandler was -
Even thinking the name sent a warm shiver of happiness coursing through her heart. When she was younger, she had always wondered what being in love would be like. Now she knew.
Chandler was taking her on a surprise weekend trip. All he had told her was to be ready and waiting for him outside the apartment at six o clock. Otherwise, he had been secretive about the whole affair. I wonder where he's taking me, Monica mused as she rubbed some lavender water into her temples. No matter. Wherever we are, I'll be happy. As long as I'm with him.
Monica closed her eyes and imagined Chandler's handsome, chiselled face in front of her own, the liquid blue - green eyes penetrating to the depths of her heart, her very … soul. His lips were curved in that beautiful, slow, gentle smile that she adored. His brown, silky hair flopped lightly over his forehead, catching the light. Chandler.
Monica straightened out her floral print dress, smoothing out a crease in the pastel splashes of creamy light. She paused to look at the clock. Five minutes. Just five minutes! Hurriedly, she grabbed her tartan - print travelling bag and dashed through the door.
"Chandler!" She cried, sighting his familiar figure near the sleek car.
"Hi, sunshine" he whispered, and kissed the top of her head. "Ready to go?" She nodded, smiling eagerly. "Can't wait. Let's go!!"
An hour later, Chandler was still driving. The lush Staffordshire countryside flanked the road, the sun burnishing the trees and plants with a rusty evening glow. "Chandler" Monica murmured, "Are we?"
Almost before she started speaking, a large, grand building came into sight around the corner. "Yes, honey" said Chandler excitedly. "We're here."
Monica gazed around eagerly. The large billboard by the parking lot…could it be true? Ever since she'd first seen the advert on TV she'd wanted to be here! The Alton Towers Hotel!!
"Like it?" Chandler grinned playfully and tousled her dark hair. "Like it? I love it! I love you!" Monica said almost vehemently, and embraced him violently. He was so sweet. She imagined them on the roller coasters together, his hair ruffled by the wind ; she imagined them on the slow, romantic "Tunnel of Love", his arms around her. So much to imagine.
They pulled smoothly into the parking lot and a smartly dressed bellboy ran up to them to show them to their rooms. They wandered into the main lobby, where the chandelier sparkled above them in the sculptured ceiling. Chandler took Monica's arm and they walked over to the highly polished reception desk.
"I've booked the Arabian Nights Suite for two" said Chandler, smiling into Monica's eyes at the word "two".
**
Monica gasped in delight as Chandler led her into the room. It was blue - dark blue all over, with tiny stars twinkling like diamond chips in the seemingly endless firmament of the ceiling. Millions of candles were lit on hundreds of ledges around the room, and somewhere, faintly, "Last night of the World" from Miss Saigon was playing. A plush double bed stood against the far wall, regal, swathed in misty veils of satiny blue cloth. Monica stepped through the right door into the bathroom and took even more breath into her already full lungs. A dazzling marble hot tub was invitingly melded into the marble walls. Polished white sinks with gold taps and soft folded towels on the dresser scintillated in the light. Monica whirled around to face Chandler. She put one hand on the side of his face and placed the other on his neck, turning his face so that his eyes were penetrating hers. His hand found her waist and pulled her close. It was as if he was saying, "I love you too much to let you go."
Their lips softly pressed together, gently at first, and then deeper and more passionately as Monica's body melded into his. They were one person, one soul. Nobody, not even Richard, had made her feel this way. It was a new feeling, a feeling of utter abandonment, a feeling of dizziness and passion, a feeling of devotion, a feeling of love.
They broke apart and Monica smiled slowly. "It's eight o clock. Reckon we should go eat?"
"I'm - I'm not really hungry."
"Me neither. I'd much rather just stay up here - with you - Chandler"
Monica looked down, blushing slightly at the sappiness of her words. Chandler reminisced later that perhaps, she had never looked so beautiful than at that moment, her hair falling softly over her glowing cheek, her eyes demurely lowered.
"So - what do you want to do?"
Monica looked up, her mouth slightly parted. "The bed deserves more than to be slept on".
"I've never heard a better suggestion in my life."
She made a tiny movement towards him, and all at once her lips were softly against his, and patterns were flying before her eyes at the wonder and beauty of the moment. She could hear the song clearer now, and it had never meant more to her than at this moment.
In a world that's moving too fast
In a world where nothing can last
I will hold you
I will hold you
Chandler tightened his arms around Monica and began to sway softly, yet seductively, to the music. She leant her head against his chest and began to dance, as the flickering lights of candles played on their faces and hair, illuminating the walls with the kaleidoscopic prisms of a million tiny shadows.
Our song, played on a solo saxophone
It's telling me to hold you tight
And dance, like it's the last night of the world.
Monica slid her hands up around Chandler's neck, gazing up at him. Tenderly, she pulled him down onto the bed, her hands massaging his back, her mind lost in the labyrinth of emotions she was feeling, and her lips shining from the softness of his kisses.
After it was over, she lay sleeping in Chandler's arms, her black hair flowing over the pillow and her head resting in the crook of Chandler's neck.
Dreams were all I ever knew
Dreams you won't need when I'm through.
Her face was like an angel's, he thought silently as he leant down to kiss her cheek.
"I love you, Angel. More than anything."
So what did you think? Too sappy?
There will be a continue, if enough of you want one! Will Chandler pop the question, or won't he? All will be revealed!!
If you want me to keep on writing, please review, because I will be deciding whether to write a continue based on the number of reviews!