She honestly thinks they're wasting a perfectly good day by doing this; curling up on the couch, lights dimmed and curtains closed (in the afternoon?!), they're nursing lukewarm mugs of tea (she hates tea, especially this weird green tea he's picked up from Tokyo). If she had her way, they'd either be in a small cafe downtown, sipping iced teas and watch the passing crowd for inspiration for her new summer line. But she stupidly let him have his way, so now they're intently watching a mind numbingly dull foreign film-in black and white. A part of her wants to take her father's boat (one of the many things her mother gained from the divorce), out for a ride and soak up the sun, possibly feeding Julian strawberries on the dock while she tans in the process.
But no, they're cooped up inside today; because this boring film just couldn't wait another day.
Or at least till the sun goes down.
This isn't what she imagined a sunday to be.
Although she has grown up a lot from the girl she was fighting to escape in high school, she's still, essentially, Brooke Davis. And sitting on a couch in a dimly lit room, while the rest of Tree Hill are out enjoying the heat, just isn't her style.
She wants to complain, or maybe pout and whine in that raspy voice (like she did with his 'army man' poster and numerous plaid shirts, that she secretly thought was kind of adorable, just not from monday to friday). But when she glances at him and sees the way his eyes shine, glued to the TV, she understands that its movies like these, that made him want to become a producer in the first place.
So she sits back, not before pouring a glass of wine (god knows she'll need it to get through this atrocious academic foreign film), puts the blanket comfortably over both of them, and settles down to watch the film with the man she loves.
She doesn't even try to distract him, he's taking notes for God's sakes, and biting the tip of his pencil. She's so bored that she's considering picking up that Vogue on the coffee table, but she doesn't want to make him feel like she doesn't want to be there with him.
So she sips more wine, welcoming the slight buzz after three glasses, and allows him to explain the hidden metaphorical slash political message hidden in the dialogue between two old and slightly unattractive women with unfortunate clothes. She loves seeing him get all excited and passionate about these things; because it reminds her of how different they are, she loves their differences. She loves that someone like him can find things to love about her, and she's proud that she's able to mature and settle down with someone like him.
The film probably went on for about five hours, or at least it felt like it. The next thing she knew, she felt Julian's stubble on her forehead.
'Baby, wake up.'
She looked up to find him grinning slightly, and a guilty smile graces her features, 'I'm sorry I fell asleep.'
He smiled, 'That's okay, thanks for staying with me anyway'
His voice was so gentle, and she falls again for that voice, the slightly over pronounced drawl, laced with thoughtfulness that she reaches up to kiss him.
'You're too good to me', she mumbles through kisses.
He grins and slips his tongue in her mouth, he gently presses her down on the couch and hovers over her, moving his lips to her neck and she sighs, running her hand against his hair. His lips move back to hers, more forcefully this time and she tries to work on his zipper, making his breath hitch ever so slightly. He bites her lower lip and sneaks a hand down her jeans, toying with her underwear, and she's just about to lose control or shred his shirt off before he pulls away completely and smirks at her.
'That's for sleeping through the best movie of the century, I'll see you later babe.'
Brooke Davis has just been played.
But as always, that night was spent making up to each other, and that, in her opinion, is the best way to end the weekend.
