prompt- post rilucas break up- lucas realizes that he wants to be with maya but she keeps pushing him away so he has to convince her that its always been her
god.
he's never been this tired.
never been so tired of life. of everything.
He lies on his bed, crumpled into himself, knees to his chin and lazily watches the sunset, streams of shades of yellow and orange piercing through his windows, lighting the room. The sun looks as if it's melting into the Hudson River, like liquid gold.
He hears vague and unintelligible sounds drifting to his room from his mom pottering about the kitchen but mostly they wash over him. He is out of focus, not really there, his mind elsewhere.
He thinks of blonde tips of hair, blowing in the wind, the pink and orange sky a perfect backdrop to what seemed to Lucas like Maya's constant photoshoot of life. He smiles a little at the memory, wondering if there would be a follow up to that day. hopefully.
His vision shifts back into focus, the photo of the six of them coming to the forefront. Maya was on his back, him looking up at her with his head thrown backwards in laughter, Riley and Farkle's tongues blue from the ice pops they had eaten and Izzy with Zay in the background with equal joyous and knowing smiles at the pairs.
Just because him and Riley had broken up 3 weeks ago didn't mean it didn't still hurt.
He was conflicted. Even though Riley and he had dated for a year, lucas and maya never seemed to stop their teasing or banter with each other even if it might of been considered flirting with one another before ski lodge. They never outright changed their relationship by any means and stayed the best friends they had always been, the only difference being he would go to Riley's house and kiss her rather than go to watch a marathon of Say Yes To The Dress with Maya.
He didn't quite realise he loved maya so much until riley pointed it out.
And now she won't even speak to him. Not a word.
And he has no fucking clue how to make it better.
He was sick of pretending, waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting for life to come and wake him up and tell him what to do. Sick of wanting the past and the good ole' days to come back. He needed to be with her. He needed to be distracted by her wonderful glow and radiance because he didn't really know where else to go without her. He was lost.
He didn't want to pressure her, didn't want to make her fall back even more away from him, but beyond any doubt he knew he loved her. And he knew that it was stupid to say that he loved her but it was completely and utterly true, he loved her, plain and simple. In every way. It was the purest and most refined emotion he felt in his whole body and amongst the haze of his emotions which he needed to figure out, one singular emotion has guided him through his teenage mistaken years. love.
His feet fall to the floor with a new found determination and quickly shuffle down the stairs of his house with a weak and quick excuse uttered to his mother, he rushes out the door, his coat in his hand. He hurries down his street, and as he gets closer and closer to her his footsteps gets faster and faster, until he is running, panting, his feet a blur below him.
He stops at her gate, his reflection staring at him in her window. Wild hair, cheeks red and hands cold. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the red painted door. After what seems a blink of an eye, her mother appears from inside. Her features crease in surprise and hope and without a word she steps aside to motion for him to come in. His heavy boots stomp into her corridor and he slips his snow covered coat off and onto the rail. He silently thanks her and takes the first few steps upstairs. Katy grabs his wrist, forcing him to turn around.
"Be careful with her, yeah?" she asks, her voice low and brewing in emotion
"Of course" he breathes out, giving her a nod.
She releases his hand and he races up the stairs. Her door is creaked open, allowing him a view of her painting, fingertips dashed with green paint and studying her canvas. He smiles to himself and steps into her room, her none the wiser from the gargantuan headphones covering her ears, blasting music.
He kisses her on the cheek, her paintbrush sent flying into the air and her lips letting out a yelp of surprise. The headphones slip off her ears and lay around her neck.
"holy shit lucas, what are you- jesus christ, don't do that!" she exclaims, hitting him in the shoulder.
"sorry" he smirks.
"seriously, jesus lucas. what are you doing here?"
"I have something to tell you"
"Well I'm not really in the mood huckleberry, I'm kinda in a no-lucas-contact state right now" she grumbles while picking up the paintbrush from the rug.
"I promise it's important"
"unless it's about you getting back together with Riley, I really don't care" she spits out, turning back to her painting.
"I love you."
She pauses, her paintbrush hovered in the air, momentarily suspended.
"It's always been you, maya"
She turns around, her eyes softening.
"you don't mean that lucas. I know you don't, and that's okay"
He bends down to her level, eyes searing into one another. His fingers brush her cheek, the pads of his fingertips resting behind her ear, caught with some tresses of her blonde hair.
"you think I don't mean it after all this time?" he asks, his eyebrows drooping.
She shrugs and looks down at her feet.
"Trust me when I say I love you, my shortstack" he says, his eyes creasing with a smile, raising her chin to meet his gaze once again.
Her eyes shift from one emotion to the next, hesitation apparent to Lucas. He reaches in and softly kisses her, tenderly, with her eyelashes brushing up against his cheek.
He keeps his eyes closed, resting his forehead on hers and inhaling deeply before his lips being captured by her.
"I love you too. I always have. Always will" she breathes out, finally looking deep into his eyes, a small smile on her face.
he's glad love hurts sometimes, because without it, he would never be able to tell what's most important to him.