Disclaimer: I own nothing but my mistakes.
Author note: It's been ages since I've posted (or written!) anything, but I was cleaning out an older email account and found a short sketch I'd written to amuse a friend about 10 years ago. I'd emailed it to myself because I liked it enough to feel like it could be something more, and in re-reading it, I felt like this actually had Puck and Rachel written all over it. So I rejigged it with them in mind, and this bit of a story is the result. Not betaed, so I apologize for any mistakes.
Ready to Lose Everything But You
The walk down a few short blocks had been a long one. The man once known as Puck walked down the street, away from the room that had been something of a safe haven for him since he was almost but not quite a man, climbing in and out of it through the branches of the old willow tree that once stood there, reaching just far enough for him to climb into her room.
The window used to look so much higher, an endless climb up her ivory tower. Now it seemed both nearer and yet further away then ever far. After all, there was no soft glow of a lamp from behind the curtains, almost imperceptible from the street. There was no warmth in there to greet him.
He remembers the days when she used to live there, when the glow from the light on her bedside was not the only thing to greet him. She'd been his first real girlfriend, the first to be more than just a lover.
That had been what had broken them, he supposed, in the end. Nineteen and twenty years may felt world weary and ready, but they hadn't been. He hadn't been.
Love shouldn't be a hidden thing, silenced while her fathers slept unknowingly down below. He had learned to be tender, to make her body respond to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument, but he couldn't learn those other, more important things, like how not to leave a scar when he crept back out the window as though they'd done something shameful. As though she meant nothing more than the ones who had come before.
Still, they'd managed to part as friends. Or so he'd thought, until he'd received the invitation.
It had been nearly eight years since they'd done anything more than write emails here and there, an occasional Facebook status update, hearing news of one another mainly through their parents instead. He hadn't expected it to sting when he'd received the news over telephone, his mother gossiping idly, unknowingly.
He'd brushed it off, had even agreed to be involved in the wedding when she'd called herself and asked. But seeing her became painful. He thought he didn't know how to love her at twenty, but at twenty-eight, years too late, he'd learned better. And as painful as it was, in the end, he knew loving her meant he'd have to let her go.
She was at the temple now, soon to be saying her vows to a man who wasn't him. He was supposed to be there, guiding old friends to their seats. He couldn't bear to go, though. He could let her go, but he couldn't stand to be there to watch
his own heart break. So he'd given his excuses, and here he stood, walking
away from the place her parents used to live, feeling it break anyway.
"I thought I'd find you here," came a voice behind him, one he'd recognize anywhere. He turned, slowly, painfully.
She stood there, dressed in her wedding dress, mud staining the bottom and lace snagged and torn, panting as though she'd been running. Her hair had come loose from the pins that held it back, falling in disheveled curls around her shoulders. Her make-up was tear smudged. She'd never looked more beautiful.
"I found your letter, Noah", she says softly. "And at first I was so angry. I thought how dare you do this on my wedding day, when I was supposed pledge forever to the man I loved."
Her voice, hoarse from the tears she'd shed, caught in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she takes one hesitant step toward him.
"Rachel," he says, can't seem to force words out of his aching chest. He doesn't want her to hurt, not even for him. She brushes a hand under her eyes, gives a pained smile as she pushes on".
"But it hurt so much that you wouldn't be there. And when I read that
you wouldn't, couldn't be in my life anymore, I couldn't stand it. Losing you, I knew, would be so much worse than losing him. It hurt more than anything I'd ever felt before, more than when we parted ways the first time, more than when we lost Finn, more than I knew it would feel to walk away from the man I promised to marry. And that's when I knew. I couldn't marry him, because I wasn't in love with him. Couldn't be, not when I my heart belongs to you. So I'm here, prepared to lose everything, because it'd would be more everything if I lost you."
The sound of her sob broke the spell that froze him and he moved, quickly closed the distance between them with a few short steps. His hands found her waist and pulled her to him, crushed his mouth to hers. He could feel her hands shake as they came up to touch his face as she kissed him back. He moved to tangle his fingers in her hair as his other arm pulled her tighter against him, never breaking their embrace.
He had lost her once before. Now he was never letting her go.