Baby Don't Rush
"Show me."
"No." David chuckled, as his best-friend tried to sneak a peek at his drawings over hot chocolate at Granny's after class. Mary-Margaret Blanchard was the kindest, fairest and most beautiful young woman in all of Storybrooke in David's eyes (and she also happened to be the one) if only he could say it.
"Please…" She whined he hated when she did that. Every time he looked into those mischievous hazel orbs the aspiring teacher would always get her way, he'd never deny her anything but, she couldn't see this not yet.
"I know it's Kathryn. Your muse." She smiled shyly. "I know you draw her all the time."
"She's not my muse." "Mare, will you stop!"
Mary-Margaret played with a stray tendril from her pixie cut, truth be known, she'd loved David for years but, at seventeen she's settled for being the best friend.
For a moment they just smile at each other. And then she strikes retrieving the sketchbook skilfully, like the bandit she should be.
She's grinning triumphantly not noticing that he hasn't said anything at all because he can't. There is nothing left to say as she opens it and sees the most exquisite hand sketched drawing and suddenly finds herself looking at her own image.
"David- this is beautiful, why didn't you tell me you? - OH! "She gasps as she carefully turns the pages and it's like her eyes are finally open. They are all of her, little moments where she had never even realised he was watching her right down to the first sketch of her beaming over hot chocolate and cinnamon. This wasn't musings based on (their cheerleader classmate) this was a love letter.
"They're- all of me."
David took a breath and stared devotedly into her eyes. "I told you. It's not Kathryn."
"But- I'm not- she's so pretty and I'm just-"She stammers as tears fall from her eyes and she feels his fingertips gently caress them away after moving his cup to the side.
"You are perfect." He says tenderly, "And I might be an idiot for saying this but, here goes…."
"Wait." She breathes happily and then, before she can change her mind, she stretches slightly on her tip-toes and kisses him on the lips softly. The feeling shocks him but, he quickly responds cupping her face while she pecks lightly at his lips and the scar she gave him thinking he was an axe murderer last fall.
And then, air as they breathe harshly against each other as they register the sound of people clapping and whooping not least, her other best-friend Ruby Lucas who had been sacrificing her Saturdays for the past few years to help Granny out.
"I love you too. David, I love you." And then she smiles that radiant smile and he just has to kiss her again before they run out of Granny's on adrenaline and lust alone.
"Where are we going?" She laughs, as they seem to be running and kissing in the direction of the Toll Bridge.
"I don't know. Is that crazy?" "MA!" He stops to cradle her and marvels at how perfectly she fits with him. In denim jeans, a red and polka-dot top, mocha jacket and green- beret.
"I just want to go somewhere with the girl I love."
"Mmm." "Woman." She murmurs wrapping her arms around his warm neck.
"I love you." He chuckles at the correction, correcting himself a moment later.
Hours later they lie entangled in each other. The summer sun in her eyes as she turns to him, adoring the tingling heat that rises in her at the simple gesture of him holding her hand.
"David."
"Yeah,"
"Do you- would you want to go on a date?" She asks nervously, as the enormity of their actions hits her.
"Yes. I was going to ask you but, we got?" He loses the words, unable to fathom the pure ecstasy he now feels at having her by his side.
"Side-tracked?" She laughs musically.
"You bet we did."
"David! Your sketchbook. We left it."
"Hey," he strokes her face lightly calming her. "I'll grab it later. I have all I need right here."
