cause i love the way you say good morning
Tucker/Libby drabble. "Tucker meets Libby the first day of fifth grade. She's not very nice to him, and she yells a lot."
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and we don't care about our own folks
talking about their own style
all we care about is talking
talking, baby, me and you
-young folks, peter bjorn & john
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Tucker meets Libby the first day of fifth grade.
She's not very nice to him, and she yells a lot. Her mouth is too stern, and her hands too active. They tap against her desk.
Her hair is golden and it reminds him of the sun and of the pale sand on beaches. He used to burn his feet on the sand because he could never remember it always hurt, afterwards.
She doesn't want to be friends, and he doesn't either.
(Libby turns to him, one elbow resting on her chair.
"Hi." He says.
She steals his markers.)
::
When they're thirteen, they get stuck together at a party.
(See, this was never supposed to happen.)
"Um, hey." He mumbles, and she frowns at him.
"Enunciate, Tucker." Her lips purse.
He looks at her. "Why are you always so angry?" Tucker asks, and his fingers tighten around his glass.
"I- what?" Libby questions, her eyes wide. (Blue, he remembers, like the sea.)
"I'm just wondering." He responds. "You're always mad."
She runs a hand through her hair. "Maybe I just don't like you."
Tucker leans forward, close and she notices his cheek is smooth. She wants to reach out, touch him.
"No, I don't think that's it." His lips curve up. "I think you do like me."
She leans away from him. "Whatever, Tucker."
There's a pause. Eleven, twelve, seconds.
"Look," He tells her, laughing, "Mistletoe."
She grins at him, winks. "You wish."
Libby walks away. Her hand brushes against his.
::
When he's fourteen, he asks Libby out six times in a row.
She says no five times in a row, and then she turns around, comes back.
"Wait-" She asks. "Would you be okay with me taking hand sanitizer along?"
He grins. "So… it's a date then?"
Libby pauses, smiles slightly.
"Yes," She replies, "Well."
::
The rest is kind of, sort of, basically, history.
;;
(He kisses Libby, she grins. Not much else has changed since they were younger.
She still steals his markers, but he doesn't mind so much, anymore.)