FanFiction Critique Group, Challenge Five.
1. Must include the phrase: "Do I have to fall asleep..."
2. Must be a minimum of 1000 words
3. Must have a maximum rating of PG 13
4. Must include a fandom you don't normally write for.
5. Must either be romantic, angst, or humor, but could also be some combination of the three.
This is kind of a post-ep for the One Tree Hill Episode of Touch Me I'm Going To Scream, but more just a build-upon of one scene of it. Or several, kinda - I tweaked some stuff.
I haven't proof-read this or anything, in fact it was more just a run and gun hung over ramble. So sorry to whoever got me to critique.
It contains spoilers for the new season, just so you're aware.
Reality
Four years and it still hadn't changed. Four years and you still remember how it looked; the hotel room where Lucas Scott proposed to you, and you'd told him you weren't ready. It was a decision that you'd hated yourself for ever since, a decision you'd hated him for; a decision you'd had to live with.
You'd often thought about this room, thought about what would have happened had you said yes. Or how things would have planned out if he'd understood. The various possible outcomes of that moment have plagued you for far too long. But now, here in this same spot, you have a chance to re-live it.
And you know that you're lucky, because not everyone gets a chance to live life twice.
Standing here, watching him move around the room, suddenly makes you feel nervous, excited, ecstatic... like you're falling hard and fast but being pulled upwards all at the same time. It's unexplainable, what Lucas Scott does to you. But you don't care, because he's here, and you're with him. Because he phoned you and asked you to come to Vegas with him.
To marry him.
"You're such a mess! You can't just call a girl from the airport!" you'd told him when you'd arrived, before launching yourself at him and kissing him as though you couldn't believe what was happening.
And it doesn't matter that you'd both bolted from the delightful pink chapel, where Elvis was waiting to wed you and a nice old lady was playing the piano like it was about to up and leave her; it changed nothing, because Lucas had chosen you.
The idea had come to you immediately - when he'd told you that the scene wasn't right, that a tacky Vegas wedding wasn't fair on you and you deserved your dream - and you'd wondered why you hadn't thought of it before. Slipping your hand through his, you'd brought him here, back to this spot; back to the scene where everything had changed.
When you'd pushed the door and told him to open his eyes, you couldn't deny how scared you'd felt as you'd watched him hesitate, say nothing and simply move forwards. But then you'd smiled when you'd realised he was simply too amazed to say anything, and you'd waited patiently for him to compose himself again. Waited as he surveyed his surroundings, as he studied the painting on the wall, the colour of the walls, the carpet and the curtains. As his nose had detected the faint odour of white and red roses, placed in a vase on the table; a symbol of unity.
And now, as Lucas finds your eyes, all you can feel is hope, love, excitement. Because the dream you've been having for four years now, is about to come true.
You're about to re-write history.
And he must sense it, because he starts to speak, saying, "This is the room where - "
"You proposed to me, four years ago," you finish, leaning against the doorway, your voice oddly controlled and low. Because you feel calmer than you've felt in a long time, and you know there's nothing to fear.
"Yeah," Lucas breathes, his hands resting on his hips as he waits for you to continue.
You look away for a moment, your eyes falling on the chair you'd sat in when he'd knelt down and asked you to be his wife, the chair you'd imagined yourself in so many times now, and you start to speak again, "You said it should be like a dream, so..." You find his gaze again, take a moment to let it all sink in, and then begin again, "I have this dream, where we're back in this hotel room, and you propose to me... and every single time I say yes." You're in front of him now, a smile spreading across your face as you tell him.
And he can't help the grin that tugs at his own mouth as he plays along and whispers, "It's just a dream."
You look down at the floor for a moment, the answer already forming in your mind, but you want to savour this moment, this very moment. Because this is where it starts, this is where everything you've been hoping for is waiting, ready to spring out and catapult you into reality. And as you find his eyes once more, you tell him simply, "But it's my dream."
He doesn't deny you it, instead he kisses you, and you know that you'd been right when you'd told him that you could live off of this - his kisses. They're your drug, and you've been without them for far too long. So long it almost hurts every time he pulls away.
But there's something he needs to do.
Gently, he walks you over to the chair, sits you down and bends on one knee. His hand fiddles with something for a moment, and your heart skips a beat when you realise it's a ring. You don't even notice what it looks like - you actually don't care - because your eyes are suddenly transfixed on him, only him.
And you're scared all over again because you know that this is when the dream ceases to be simply that. This is when it becomes real; everything you've ever wished for. You've often thought dreams were dangerous, that they can set you up for huge falls and leave you feeling disappointed, empty and broken. But as he raises his hand, looks into your eyes and whispers, "Peyton Sawyer, I love you," you know that what you're feeling right now is even better than anything you've ever dreamed.
Because this is real.
And Lucas Scott is really asking you to marry him, and before you know it you're already telling him, "Yes."
"You didn't let me ask you yet," he half teases, his eyes silently asking you, really?
And you answer him, "Yes, baby, yes!" Your hands are on his face, your eyes glued to that boyish smile that's tugging at his mouth, and you whisper, "God, I love you," before you pull him closer and kiss him. It's slow and leisurely, like you have all the time in world. He's tracing your mouth, his stubble brushing against your palms, and now he's deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours and it's talented and perfect, and so slow and beautiful. And you want to feel his bottom lip drag over your throat, his fingers skimming lightly at your waist. You want him to work his magic, make time stop and your breath hitch...
But, that can wait.
Because, right now, what you really want to do is savour this moment, this very moment. It's perfect.
Too perfect.
And your mind catches up and you find yourself pulling back, needing to ask, "Do I have to fall asleep tonight?" He frowns at you, a little confused, and you explain, "This has to be real, Lucas. I can't wake up and have you not be here. Not again."
He's smiling at you, his hands reaching up to cup your face, and suddenly your fleeting, nervous feeling is gone again. "Peyton Sawyer, I'm not going anywhere." Running a hand through your hair he tells you simply, "I am going to marry you."
You nod, take a breath and regain your control once more, pulling him in for another kiss as you whisper, "And I'm going to marry you."
Because this is reality, and it's finally ready for you.
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