Annie and Jeff have a secret.
Songfic to Taylor Swift's Wildest Dreams. For the full, unedited version, check my LiveJournal page. Link is on my profile.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story.
"Any plans for the weekend, Milady?" he asks with his sweetest voice, grabbing her hand in the empty hallway.
"Nothing specific. Why?"
"I thought that we should go skiing, since our last attempt was a total disaster."
"I wouldn't say that you yelling "Bow before Thoraxis!" to hundreds of spacetimers is really a disaster, but okay, I'm in. Is anyone else coming?"
"I actually thought that it would just be the two of us. Are you okay with this?"
"Absolutely, milord."
She feels her hear skip a beat at the thought of spending a whole weekend alone with him. All the sudden, the weekend seems too impossibly far.
They spend most of the weekend in their hotel room, leaving only for two hours of skiing. They talk, watch movies, cuddle... It is the best time of her life. He is right there, so handsome, so confident - but oh so tender, caring, and all hers. But nothing lasts forever and Monday arrives way too quickly.
All the sudden, he changes. It isn't the same man who he had been in the hotel. He isn't her milord. He avoids, even ignores her. She feels that she has no choice to confront him.
"I just want it to be a secret, okay?" is his answer. No, not okay, she thinks.
Two weeks later, when her roommates are away on yet another convention, she heard an unexpected knock on the door.
"Milady," he says when she opens the door. She lets him in.
"I came here to apologize," he explained, sitting down to the recliner.
"For what?"
"You know. For the weekend. For me ignoring you..." he pauses for a moment, hesitating, "And for this." And then he kisses her, slow and hesitant at first, but then she kisses her back and they sink into the passion.
Before either of them understands what is happening, they are in her bedroom, undressing fast and dropping clothes everywhere. Everything is happening so fast and before they know, they are lying on her bed, fulfilled and spent.
"The others are so going to kill me now," he whispers, holding her tightly in his arms. She listens to his heartbeats in silence for a while, and answered: "We won't have to tell them."
"You guys, I'm pretty sure that we shouldn't be here," says the blond woman to her friends. They are standing on the roof of their school in formal attire, watching the sunset. The melodies from the cafeteria echoed in the air, blending with the crickets and occasional gleeful shouts.
"Could you not be a buzz kill, just this once, please?" whines the young man standing next to her, hand around her waist. It's the last time the famous Greendale seven will be together as students. Two of them have just graduated, leaving their Alma Mater behind.
"We should go back to the dance," says the older man as the sun sank below the horizon. "After all, it is dedicated to me."
"You know very well that it is dedicated to the both of you," mentions the motherly figure. Looking at the man standing next to the young woman, she continues: "and knowing our dean, it's mostly for Mr. Big Shot Lawyer here."
"Maybe I should touch his chest, just to make him happy one last time? He is really bummed that I'm leaving," jokes the mentioned lawyer, as the group makes their way back to the cafeteria. "And maybe after the dance I can touch your chest, at my place, one more time before I leave to California?" he whispered to the young brunette walking next to him.
"Firstly, really gallant of you. Secondly, I can't wait for the night to be over," she whispered back.
"Well then, milady," he offered her his arm.
"Milord," she answered, and they walked down the hall, hand in hand, for the last time.
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