This was originally posted on Tumblr. It's based on an old anonymous prompt that I don't remember anymore. Figured I'd cross-post it here.
She takes my hand in hers and smiles, bathed in the cherry-red glow of the stoplight.
"Thanks for dinner," she says. She's turned to face me, her face half illuminated, half cloaked in shadow, the glow surging and fading as cars streak through the intersection ahead of us, their headlights tracing trails in the corner of my eye.
"Of course," I say, squeezing her fingers as they lace with mine. "That was the deal, wasn't it?"
It's our anniversary. I insisted on taking her to dinner, and in return, she was adamant that she get to arrange our entertainment for the evening.
The light turns green and she shifts her eyes to the road, lurching and recovering as she steps on the gas with too much gusto.
"Little bit eager?" I chuckle, and she grimaces, but she can't hold it long. A smile soon replaces it.
"So, where are you taking me?" I ask, leaning back in my seat, leaning my head against the window. It's cool against my forehead and my breath fogs against the glass.
"It's a surprise." I hear her bite back a laugh and I shake my head, despite the grin on my face. Rosewood flashes by outside and I wonder where on earth we could be going.
Raising our joined hands, I brush a kiss across her knuckles, enjoying the pressure she applies on my palm at the touch. "I have to admit, I never expected your surprise would take us back here."
She chances a look at me as she drives and I wince.
"Eyes on the road, Em."
"Sorry. I can't help it. I like looking at you." It's dark, so she can't see the color that floods my cheeks before she continues talking. "Anyway, what fun would a surprise be if you figured it out early? They're supposed to be unpredictable. And unpredictable is a good thing, right?"
"It's a very good thing."
Easy silence fills the space around us for the rest of the ride. She's absorbed in driving and I'm occupied stealing glances at her, chewing my lip as I trace her profile, my eyes running down the slope of her nose, the pout of her lips, the rising and falling of her chest. Every car that passes throws her into stark relief, shadows rolling across her face as we zip past each other.
When she pulls into the Rosewood High parking lot, I take a minute to gape. "This?" I say. "This is where you're taking me?"
"Yes." She says it with such a firmness that I can't argue, but I still raise an eyebrow. She shakes her head. "You trust me, right?"
"Of course I do!"
"Then come on!"
She's out of the car before I can say anything else. I follow her around to the trunk of the car, where she's apparently stashed a Rosewood Sharks sports bag without me noticing. She stifles my questions yet again, flashing a butterfly-inducing smile in my direction. I watch her go, half amused by the discord between her fancy attire and the ratty bag on her shoulder and half mesmerized by the way that fancy attire clings in all the right places.
I think she can feel me looking, because she turns around and gives me a look - no, not a look. The look. The one that liquefies my knees and sends my stomach diving. It's a tug on my leash, and I obey her call.
We stroll up to the building – she strolls, at least, and I scamper along behind her, my head whipping about looking for cameras or janitors or, well, anything that might come and get us in trouble. In trouble! I shake my head and take a deep breath. We're not students anymore. No more worrying about detention. Emily isn't worried, so I won't be, either.
I hurry ahead of her and test the front doors, and blink a bit when I find they're unlocked. I swallow my surprise, swing them open and bow to her. "After you, my lady."
She grins, curtsies. "Why, thank you." She gives me that look again. I try to return it with one of my own. Yes, Emily Fields, I think when she bites her lip and drops her gaze, I want you.
She takes my hand and we meander through the hallways. I know without asking where we're going, and my feet know the way without a thought. We find ourselves in the locker room, that smell of sweat and chlorine and dust like an old blanket wrapped around me. Emily drops her bag on the bench and unzips it, then throws something at me.
I catch it. It's an old Sharks swimsuit.
"Where did you hide all this stuff?" I ask. Not in our apartment. I'd have noticed, I think.
"My parents'," she says. That solves one mystery.
She pulls out another suit for herself. I'm about to ask what she's planning but she unzips her dress and lets it fall and there goes all coherence. My mouth goes dry. I close the space between us, one hand finding her hip and her skin – so much skin! – and my mouth covers hers, and I pin her against the lockers and she laughs into my lips. She kisses me for a bit, letting my hands roam, before pushing me away.
"Put that on," she says, gesturing to the limp pile of fabric I'd dropped on the floor in my haste.
"Em," I say, pushing forward. She stops me with a palm against my chest, shakes her head, and lets her eyelashes flutter. Her hand moves up to my collar, loosening my tie.
"Take these off," she says, as she untucks my shirt and slides her hands up underneath, over my stomach. I push in again, catching her lips, and she indulges me just a moment before forcing me back. "Paige. Take these off, and put that on." She slips out from under me, grabs her own swimsuit from her bag, and disappears around the other side of the lockers.
I mumble for a bit about fairness—or, rather, unfairness—and teasing, but I cooperate, pulling on the old swimsuit. It still fits, by some miracle. When I'm all set, I go to find her, but she's already disappeared. I head to the pool, where she stands beside the water. A grin creeps onto my face as I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her. She jumps about three feet, but a kiss on the side of her neck seems to calm her down. She leans into me, reaching her hand up into my hair, and pulls me closer as she cranes her neck away. She giggles and I press my fingers into her hips.
That goes on for a while, with me chuckling every time I get any kind of response and her trying to get away but always drawn right back in. She does slip away, at last, but only because I really am curious about her plan. She wouldn't bring us here just to swim and make out. Would she?
She saunters over to the edge and stretches, shaking out her arms and legs.
I cross my arms over my chest. "You getting ready for a race or something?"
"Come here," she says, without breaking her workout. I pad over and raise an eyebrow.
"What?"
"Look." She pulls me next to her and points across the pool, to a box sitting on the opposite edge. I wonder how I missed it, before remembering that my brain was wholly absorbed in Emily Fields and nothing could break my concentration.
It's a present, a picture-perfect little box wrapped in glossy red paper and topped with a gold bow.
"Is that for me?" I ask, grinning.
"It's for both of us." Her grip tightens on my arm. "But you have to race me for it, okay? Three laps. If I win, I get to give it to you. And if you win, you can decide if you want to give it to me."
I look from my girlfriend, to the present, and back again. "Okay," I say, as my skin seems to have become too small for my body, like I might burst out of it at any second. I think I know what this is, I think I know, and my stomach is doing flips like a gymnast and I just want to kiss her.
But I've got a race to win.
She has a cap for me, of course, and goggles, and as I tuck my hair away and pull the band taut around my skull I feel like I'm seventeen again, in this pool and watching Emily swim for the first time. Everything changed that day, in this pool. This pool changed my life.
And I have a feeling it's about to change it again.
We step onto the blocks and get ready to dive.
"Count together? Start on 'go'?" she asks.
Our voices mix, layering with the hum of the room around us. Three.
I focus on the water, on the dancing light, on our faces reflected in its surface. Two.
My whole body is primed to leap. One.
Go.
I break the water and I'm off like a bullet from a gun, slicing toward my target. I remember the old rhythm, my old strokes, but I'm rusty. I can feel my joints fighting me. But she's rusty, too, and that's the only thing that saves me.
She leads for a while but as we turn into the final lap, I close the gap. I pull ahead, stretching, stretching toward the wall.
As soon as I hit the tile, I spring above the water, and a split second later she does the same. I strip off my cap and goggles, breathing hard. She meets my eyes, cheeks flushed, and smiles. I can feel the ridiculous grin spreading on my face and I look away, which only makes her giggle.
"You win," she says.
That's when I remember the present.
I haul myself out of the water and plop down on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the glowing water. The present is just within reach and I snatch it, holding it in my lap.
"Open it." She climbs up beside me and folds her hands in her lap, ankles swishing in the pool.
I pull off the lid and look inside. There's another box there, a smaller one. Velvet. I don't think I can breathe. I pull it out, fingers trembling, and crack it open.
The ring inside is simple and gorgeous. Perfect. Tears begin to form in my eyes but I blink them back and clear my throat.
"Emily," I say, and my lips crease in a half-smile, half-sob, that trembling place in between where they could go either way. "God, I love you."
"I love you, too," she says, reaching out and gripping my free hand. I lace our fingers together.
"I've loved you since I first saw you swim. Here in this pool. I didn't know it, then-I couldn't even hope-but I found someone to love who loves me back, who loves me so much. You're amazing, and beautiful, and I'm-I'm so lucky to have you." My voice is breaking. I have to do this fast. God, she's crying, too.
Get it together, McCullers!
"Emily Fields," I say, and take a deep breath. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"
She bursts out crying, but in between sobs, she manages to nod. My smile burns across my cheeks and I lean in, wrapping her up against me. "Yes," she chokes, "yes, yes!" She pulls away and slams our lips together, and her tears tickle my tongue and I drink her in.
Somehow I manage to get the ring out of the box and onto her finger. It sparkles in the shifting light from below.
We kiss some more, and talk, and kiss, and kiss, and kiss. There's just a whole lot of kissing. We're both crying and I'm sure a stranger might think we look awful, but as far as I'm concerned, Emily has never been more beautiful.
I love her. I'll love her for the rest of my life.
And it all started here.