Author's Note: This fic is merely inspired by the essence of Sarah Dessen's lovely stories. It contains no actual characters of hers unless you want them to. It won't take you long to read it, and I promise that you will enjoy it whether you have ever read a book of hers or not. It's just a little bit of something inspired by Dashboard Confessional's Dusk and Summer.
She smiled in a big way, the way a girl like that smiles, when the world is hers, and she held your eyes, out on the breezeway, down by the shore in the lazy summer.
He leaned into her, both hands pressed to her waist, mouth nestled in the hollow just below her ear as he spoke playfully, "You have the best smile. I'd do anything for that smile,"
She giggled softly, fingers twined through his hair, and echoed, "Anything?"
He nodded his confirmation, tickling her, and she smiled a broad grin, dimpling her cheeks and revealing white teeth. There was satisfaction on his face as he tilted away to look at her, the way her eyes sparkled and how she looked so happy just to be right there with him. He let his strong fingers stray to her belt loops, hooking through as he leaned in to kiss her. Just one second before his lips met hers, she shook her head and bolted away. Her expression was teasing as she ran down the wood of the dock, bare feet slapping. He thought about her getting splinters but never warned her because it seemed like she managed to everything without any of the normal difficulties.
The sun was just touching the horizon, glowing in the sky, but she looked up at it from her place at the end of the dock. He recognized the expression and smile on her face. She was about to say something important. She always got a specific look. Her eyes would light up as her smile became strangely serious, and her dimples would disappear. Now, she turned back to look at him, one hand beckoning him closer. He moved up to stand beside her.
"Look at that sun. We have to spend equal time without it as we do with it, but it's still the most important thing in our world. In fact, we just sleep and live half-lives without it. It's not 'til it comes back that we do anything meaningful," He waited as she paused. He knew she was about to elaborate on why she was saying this. "I think that's how it is with the person you love. You may have to spend time without them, but the only part of life truly worthwhile is when they come back,"
He couldn't add anything to that, so he only touched her elbow lightly, a touch that conveyed his agreement and possibly said a little more than he would have been willing to say aloud. As if she could sense what he had not said as easily as she spoke her philosophical opinions aloud, her smile broadened, and she stepped in front of him. The heels of her feet were just over the edge of the dock as she slid her arms up around his neck.
"Let's go somewhere," he murmured, and she leaned up to kiss his chin,
"Lead the way,"
And she pulled you in, and she bit your lip, and she made you hers. She looked deep into you as you lay together, quiet in the grasp of dusk and summer.
He did, interlocking their fingers and pulling her with him up the shifting, sandy dunes to the beach house. They never referred to either of their rented beach houses as "mine" or "yours". They always just referred to them both as "our" beach house. They stepped into the door and didn't bother with any lights. Dragging sand in on their feet and scattering it over the hardwood floors, they tumbled, laughing, onto the couch. He could hear the ocean, the breeze, and the calls of gulls out on the beach. He could also hear her breathing, the melody of her laughter, and the sound of her body moving on the scratchy fabric of the couch.
She was on the bottom, both of her legs wrapped around his right leg, and a hand on either side of his face, cradling his cheeks. His hands were on her rib cage, each finger seeking to press lightly into an indent. He felt her left hip bumped against him. It was hard to breathe, just a simple inhale and exhale, when they were so close to one another. Finally, she gave him the permission he had been seeking, angling her mouth against his. They breathed in one another's hot breath for a few seconds before he closed the distance, kissing her. She pulled him closer, with her arms, her legs, her fingers, her mouth, and her teeth sank into his lip gently, affectionately. He parted her lips, and she parted his, and they took in each other.
Darkness fell outside, and it became more impossible than ever to see, but they knew each other too well to need sight. They had four other senses to employ.
She combed your hair, and she kissed your teeth, and she made you better than you'd been before. She told you bad things you wished you could change in the lazy summer.
"Stand still. You always move around so much," she chided as he fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. "and you're trying to look nice tonight for our date, right?"
"I am, but I hate that you made me dress up,"
"I'm going to dress up, too, remember? And you hated it when I wouldn't let you drink, too, so I'm getting used to you hating things."
"That was a good thing, though. That was for the better. This isn't. I feel starchy," He reached up and with a grin, mussed his hair, which she had just combed. Laughing softly, she leaned up and kissed him right on that perfect grin of his. That made him laugh, too, and he pretended to pout when she shooed him out of the bathroom. When the door shut behind him, he walked into the living room and flicked on the television but didn't actually watch it. He was too busy listening for the sound of her behind the bathroom door, changing into something mysterious that had been living inside a bag in the closet.
He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, seeing himself as she must have seen him a few seconds before. His hair was a little messy, his shirt a little mussed, and his smile broad. That reflection was pure happiness, he realized. That broad smile widened as she stepped out of the bathroom in a graceful, flirty red dress.
"You look beautiful," His voice was a compliment even without the words, and she blushed. He moved to her in less than two steps, sweeping her into his arms, kissing her resoundingly, before they headed to the door.
They ate dinner in the same little café as they had eaten the first time. They walked the street arm-in-arm as they had the very first night. By the time they came back, her hair was no longer perfect, a little frizzy, and there was a small stain from his dinner on his shirt. Her feet hurt from the heels she had dared to wear, and his arms were a bit sore from carrying her across the sand all the way to the beach house. They couldn't have been happier.
She told you, laughing down to her core, so she would not cry as she lay in your lap. She said, "Nobody here can live forever, quiet in the grasp of dusk and summer,"
They sat down on the sand in front of the house, impractical though it was in their good clothes. She rested between his legs, back leaned on his chest, and he laid his chin on her shoulder. They had missed their sunset but still they watched the horizon together quietly. The silence was peaceful yet somehow so loud that it rang in his ears.
"I hate that we missed the sunset," he observed, breaking that quiet. She nodded, and the movement reverberated through his body. He rubbed one hand up and down along her side, caressing her through the thin fabric of her dress.
"It's that time of the day when we're without the sun. Like being without the one you love," The way she said this made him want to pull her tight and hard against him and promise not to let go, not ever.
"At least it comes back," he attempted feebly. She laughed musically, but the sound was weak, and he recognized the catch of tears even though he had never before seen her cry. Her voice hardly betrayed it, though, except for a tiny tremble.
"Nobody here can live forever, quiet in the grasp of dusk and summer," she said, and he pressed his lips to her cheek, wishing he could tell her that wasn't true, even though it was. Just for her, he'd change the truth to a lie if only he could.
"But we can try," he whispered, and she turned her head to brush her lips across his.
"We have to try," she agreed, and he saw tears clinging in her eyelashes. He reached up to wipe them away with his finger and kissed each of her eyelids tenderly.
"Alright then," he soothed, and they fell into each other all over again.
She said, "No one is alone the way you are alone," and you held her looser than you would have if you ever could have known.
She tossed a pile of socks into his duffel bag, and he frowned at her. "Why are you helping me pack?" There was an offended look on his face, and she mirrored the look when she glanced at him.
"Because if you insist on packing now, then I insist on helping you because I'm not doing something without you on our last day," her voice was infinitely stubborn, and a stab of guilt poked his stomach from the inside. He wasn't being fair to her by doing this; just because he couldn't bear the thought of leaving this beach, this summer, and her tomorrow, he shouldn't let himself shut her out. He had felt it all afternoon, the mechanical way he had been packing useless item after useless item into this bag to take with him while ignoring the only item he wanted and the only one he couldn't take with him. It was easier to pack than to cry, though.
"You should go pack, too," he said simply.
"Not without you,"
"Maybe I want to be alone,"
"No one is alone like you are alone,"
"What?"
"You won't let us have this day because you're too cowardly to say goodbye,"
"I'm not a coward,"
"Not usually. You are about this. Being alone is easy, so that's what you're going to do,"
The silence that descended over them was stiff and harsh, and she walked out of the room, presumably to go pack her own bags. He tried to tell himself all sorts of things, but his mind was a muddled mess, too full of emotions to even sort them out and deal with them. Why wouldn't he just let them laugh and be together today? It was their last day for that.
He supposed that was what he couldn't stand. The word "last". It was so final, so definite.
"This is so stupid!" He burst suddenly, and she poked her head in from the other room, looking at him with an angry expression.
"What's stupid?" She sounded hurt.
"Me. You. This. Why haven't we said it?"
"Said what?"
Some things tie your life together, slender threads and things to treasure.
"This!" He walked up to her, put his arms around her, catching her waist and pulling her close and feeling their bodies match together like perfect puzzle pieces. He looked straight into her eyes, nose just touching hers, expression as serious and solemn as if the world depended on what he was about to say.
"I love you,"
The words hung suspended between them, and he watched her breath catch in her throat, watched her unable to believe what she was hearing. He continued, "I love you so much I can't breathe without you, and I didn't realize that until it was too late, and now summer's gone and we're leaving, and I can't. Not 'I don't want to because it will be hard'. I can't. Because I love you,"
She reached up, tracing an invisible circle on his cheek with the back of her hand, and her voice was a stifled sob when she spoke, "I love you, too. I love you like I've never loved anyone, and I can't…" Her voice broke into a whisper. "I just love you. I can't leave,"
He watched the tears fall fast and free from her eyes, and he leaned in to wipe them away as she continued to stroke his cheek. They lifted their hands free and twined their fingers together. He felt the wetness on both of their hands and realized he was crying too, and as they held each other, he felt his heart ripping and breaking and dying even as it exploded with love. It was more than he could ever have dreamed of.
Days like that should last and last and last.
But you've already lost when you only had barely enough of her to hang on.
They couldn't say a word, not a single world. Not an "I love you" or "I'll miss you" or anything could staunch the unbearable pain. He kissed her cheeks, her lips, her neck, drank in the taste of her and the warmth of her in his arms and the feel of her heart beating against his, finding the same rhythm and pumping life into them as if they were one being. He could smell suntan lotion and salt on her skin from their last swim, and her hair was damp against his shoulder, leaving a wet spot on his tee-shirt. Sand was caked on them from lying wet on the beach; the grit dug into his hands as he held her tightly.
Time was too strong, though, and whichever one let go first, suddenly, they were standing apart with a rift between them that they might never cross again. He looked away, turning his face to the sun. The glowing orange ball was just barely visible above the horizon, and he knew that any minute it would begin its final descent, disappearing. His eyes burned, and he closed them, unsure if it was the sunlight or the tears that made them sting.
When he turned back, he saw her spreading a towel on the seat of her car, putting the keys ignition, and he heard the soft roar of the motor starting. She looked at him, tears streaming down her face.
"We're living without the sun now," Her voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in his head, drowning out even his thoughts.
"I love you," He replied.
"I always will," She agreed.
Her car disappeared from sight as the final blur of the sun fell below the horizon.
You've already lost.