Title: Sugar Magnolia
Summary: For years he's listened to a song about a perfect girl; then one day she found him.
Pairing: Edward/Bella
Rating: M
Word count: 1,746
"You better start loading up, Dye Man. Show's about to start."
"Thanks for watching out, Burger Man!" he yells and nods at the dude parked three buses over. He's not sure of his name, but knows he makes an awesome veggie burger.
They tend to travel and park close to the same order from show to show. It's easier to find a good domestic beer if you know the guy selling them is usually set up by the couple selling pipes, and the chick with the best shrooms and balloons is in the big peace sign bus next to the canopy he dyed a while back. People come and go, but not much changes on the road.
He's been following for about ten years now. Stopping by to see his parents and siblings when he's close is all the visiting he does. His family is here somewhere in between the music, food, smoke, and dye. Most chicks around have a guy or girl already, so the picking is slim unless he ventures into the world of one nighters. It's not really his thing but now and again there's a good looking girl who wants to see what's it's like to take a trip with a shaggy haired dude in a tie-dye shirt and patchwork shorts.
"Lock up, my man. Lots of wanna-be's out looking for a lift and nothing else," shroom girl tells him as she takes a hit off her balloon. She sells to anyone with enough cash but prefers those looking to enhance the music experience. Tonight wasn't one of those nights - it was frat boys out to see how fucked up they could get.
"Thanks for the heads up. I already upped my prices. They're here on mommy and daddy's dime, might as well make 'em pay." He winks and locks up his tie-dye painted VW Bug. It's not that they didn't like local concert goers, they just made them pay a little more and didn't trust them. Didn't respect their attitude of coming to the circus to ogle the freaks. They were passers by, visitors on his home turf.
He doesn't always go into the shows. Sometimes the parking lot vibes are too good to leave. If the music is playing close enough to hear, he stays out and works, letting it lead him to new designs. Tonight looked like rain though, so he dives in, amid a sea of long hair, sandaled feet, long skirts, and a happily stoned crowd.
Sticking to the back and not mixing too far in, he finds a spot and lays down. The grass is warm on his back and it feels so good to lay down, he falls asleep in minutes. He stirs to the sounds of the openers but doesn't bother to open his eyes. Just as the band starts, he feels the soft kisses of rain drops and smiles. Sitting up, he stretches his hands to the darkening sky and yawns, not noticing the girl watching his every move.
Bare dirty feet stop in front of him and he looks up. "Good morning, lazy daisy," she says bashfully, places a ring of flowers on his head, and dances off into the crowd in front of them.
He rubs his eyes and touches the flowers in his hair that match hers, making sure the brown-haired-sun-kissed-angel wasn't a dream.
He looks for her, straining his neck, but she's gone. Too short to stand out. Little details hit him like the rain, slowly soaking him from head to toe.
Long messy hair adorned with a flower crown. A mud trimmed shirt that she wore low on her hips, that showed off her bare stomach. A tiny little triangle top tied around her neck and back covered her chest. He could still see the freckles across her nose and cheeks, and the chain of daisies inked up and around her arm.
Had he missed her before? Was she a local? He hopes not and continues to search the crowd for a glimpse of her. He lets the music flow through him and moving along with it, but never stops watching for her.
People had already started to leave when the first drizzle began, but now as the skies open they run for the exits. He laughs, and enjoys the free shower while wishing he had thought to put a bar of soap in his pocket.
He moves forward into the spot left vacant by a pile of drunken college boys afraid to get wet and sees her. She's dancing, arms open, head back, spinning in circles like a child.
Awe struck and wide eyed, he watches her move to the music and wonders what if? What if she could just stay with him and he could sell shirts and she could help? And maybe a VW bug could be traded for a van and maybe one day she would say yes and he would be a husband and a father and they could be a family in this life of music and love? Or maybe he's tripping harder than he thought possible and she's not even real.
Slowly, he approaches her and smiles as she gasps at the sight of him. "Lazy daisy, your crown is falling apart," she tells him as she blushes.
"Would you make me another, Sugar Magnolia?" he asks with a nervous shake in his voice, knowing everything hinges on this moment - on him saying the right thing.
She tilts her head to the side, studying him. "Can we wait until the rain stops?"
He nods and adds with a timid, yet hopeful smile, "Only if I can dance with you until it does."
She bites her lip and takes his hand. He spins her in circles and knows his heart is pounding and he feels so light because this is real. He wants to sit in the back seat as she rides him all night and bring her an omelet in the morning from the guy three rows over. He wants her fingers to be stained to match his and feel her arm brush his as they work next to each other. He wants to learn how she made his crown so he can make her one from roadside blossoms.
Soaked through, tired, hungry, but full to the brim with joy from experiencing the music they love with someone else, they stop as the band calls it a night and the leaves. "Where do we go from here?" he asks, unsure of how to ask her to stay. To ask her to become part of this family at least long enough to know if it's for her.
She steps in close as the rain makes them both squint and raise their voices. "My bag is with a guy that looks just like Jerry, gray fluffy beard." She motions to her chin and looks focused on not forgetting a detail. "Oh! And he had tattoos up his arms. He was selling tops like mine."
They both look down as she points. He groans at the sight of her breasts perfectly outlined in wet fabric, nipples erect and begging to be licked. She blushes scarlet but shrugs it off and moves in closer to him. He places his hands on her hips to steady himself and she raises up on her toes to kiss him. So soft and sweet, she gently opens her mouth to his and runs her fingers through his hair, careful to not knock his crown off. He moves his hands up her bare back and pulls her closer still, feeling their cold wet clothes come together and become one.
There's no rush as they touch and join in a perfect first tip toe kiss in the rain. As everyone leaves for cover, soft lips, warm hands, and the lingering smell of campfires and flowers mixing in the rain, bids them to stay. Only thunder crashing overhead interrupts them.
They break apart but hold hands as he leads her to "Jerry" and grabs her bag to carry it across the lot to his car. He opens his trunk to pull out a couple dry shirts for them and she stops him from closing it.
"You make these," she says, eyes lit with wonder, looking over his wares.
"Yeah," he holds onto the back of his neck as he answers, his nerves on edge with self doubt and not knowing how to take this further.
"Teach me?"
"Sure." He nods. "You ready to get out of the rain?"
"As long as I can stay with you."
"Always, my Sugar Magnolia."
Holding the door and seat for her, she climbs in with him right behind her.
"I'm sorry for getting your car all wet." She says, sitting on the edge of the seat and not leaning back.
"Sorry we don't have much room." He brushes her wet hair off her shoulder and onto her back. "I thought I'd be alone in here tonight."
She nods knowingly and takes what's left of their crowns and places them on the dashboard.
For a month now, she'd hitched rides to shows and noticed him, always alone but content. He looked like he was right where he belonged. Selling shirts, trading with others, talking to everyone - it was intimidating for her, a newcomer, to approach this beautiful boy who seemed to have it all.
She had laughed at all the strange places he fell asleep. Picnic tables, chairs, his car, fields; he didn't seem to have a preference. What he had, was an easy going peace about him that she wanted to know for herself.
"I know. I've been around for a little while," she admits, hoping he wouldn't mind.
"No," he shakes his head. "You couldn't have been. I would remember you."
She leans forward and kisses his cheek as he stares in disbelief. "You stay pretty busy," she looks down and ads, "and nap quite a bit."
He laughs, making the whole car shake. "That I do."
With ever so gentle fingers he lifts her chin and kisses her lips, letting her know he isn't upset.
Leaning down, he places kisses on her shoulder and up her neck until he reaches her lips once again.
Breathing heavily and with unsure fingers, she unties her top and tosses it on the floor. He wastes no time in adding his shirt to the pile and softly sings, "come on, honey, come along with me."
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