A/N: I didn't mean to write this it just kinda poured out. My bad... I blame these two. They're just so fucking adorable. Rich x Grace.
Another old one reposted. I miss them so much.
Let It Go
She can feel the effects of the liquor everywhere. Her toes are tingling and her mind is whirling and all she wants to do is dance.
He's not far away, as always. Standing on the wall with a beer in hand, his eyes are on her and she loves it. The music is loud and perfect and she twirls and twists and puts on a show just for him. His body is stiff, his combat boots planted firmly on the ground, but his eyes dance with her.
"Rich!" She runs to him and throws her arms around his neck, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. She pulls him close so he can hear her and only her. "Oh Rich, won't you dance with me?"
"Grace, you're piss-loaded drunk." He states, and the chime of her laughter is lost in the noise.
"Yes I probably am," She closes her eyes and twists her hips to the beat. He loves to watch her dance. "But it is a party and I would like to dance with you, please!"
He laughs then, shaking his head. She grabs for his bottle and he holds it high above her head.
"You've had more than enough." He shakes his head again. She laughs, taking his other hand in hers, so tiny in comparison. She tugs him forward.
"Come on, then!"
"What are you doing?" He takes two steps away from the wall and stops. She tugs harder.
"We're dancing!"
Someone bumps him from behind, but he doesn't dare move.
"Fucking hell Grace," He groans inwardly. She blinks at him. "I can't dance."
She stops tugging entirely and stares, her big brown eyes wide with amusement.
"Richard Hardbeck you silly boy," She pulls his hands down to her waist, feeling the warmth of his fingers through the thin cotton of her dress. She begins to sway, wrapping her arms around his neck. He swallows as she pulls him closer.
"Just don't think!" She yells, moving her hips against his. "Feeeeel!"
He closes his eyes and gives in to her touch, soft and commanding. She moves her body expertly against his despite the alcohol blurring her version and pulls him closer, closer, closer. There are butterflies in her stomach and her lips tug upward as he begins to move against her.
"Yes, yes!" She squeals and throws herself into his arms. He catches her tiny body easily, pulling her in. He smells like cheap beer and leather and spliff and she breathes it in, burying her face in his long hair. He presses his lips almost hesitantly against her temple.
And then she just knows.
"Rich, I love you." She states. She feels his whole body stiffen but he doesn't let her go. She yawns and closes her eyes. Ages go by before he replies and she is getting so very tired.
"You do?"
"Yes." More silence.
"How do you know?"
"I just know."
The song ends and someone breaks a lamp. Grace yawns again and settles into his arms. He holds her like she's something precious and she thinks maybe his arms are the best fucking thing in the whole world.
"Grace?"
"Yes?" She waits.
"I think... I love you too."
He is the best fucking thing in the whole world.
"I know."
And she does.