a/n: I don't think I can ever fully capture these two; their complexity and facades, but I tried. Hopefully I did well. Just so you know; all of these scenes take place on the beach, and this is about my interpretation on what happened between them during the summer in the middle of Season 1 and Season 2. Enjoy.
ours
During summer; in the middle of an empty beach, she rests her head on his shoulder.
It feels like the beginning of forever.
.
"How about this?" she asks, swinging her legs back and forth. "We only date during summer and end it the same time summer ends."
He stares at her blankly, but takes her hand and doesn't protest.
.
Two indecisive high school students; that's all they are.
His hand rests on hers. It's a different feeling, something she's never felt with any of the other boys she used to raise her self-esteem, and it hurts to know he's the only one that can draw these types of emotions out of her. It hurts knowing that suddenly no one but him can read her emotions and see past the facade.
"You're dangerous," she mutters, almost sullenly, because he's now the one coursing through her veins.
He doesn't say anything; just squeezes her hand and links their fingers together firmly.
.
They're on the beach again, feet pressed against sand and straws in their mouths.
Her heart stops for just a second when he starts playing with her fingers, and as his lips start grazing the top of her hand, and then her wrist, and then he looks up, catching the confused and maybe a little frightened expression plastered on her face. He lets go of her hand and her heart sinks.
"You don't have to be scared of me," he says, and, for some reason, it evokes a laugh from her. Slowly, she turns to him with a smile almost as bright as the sun shining above them.
"I'm not," she says.
.
He finds her, sitting on the beach, and he doesn't say anything when he does. He sits beside her as she lies down. Her messy ringlets end up between his fingertips and his lips graze the top of her forehead. He traces patterns on her skin and she pretends not to care.
"Let's just," she says, "try to make this last."
He drags her into the sea and circles her waist, by way of reply.
.
Little sparks go off in her heart and she forgets how to breathe for a second when he kisses her.
She doesn't respond to the kiss, but she doesn't break it either. Her mouth moves slowly and cautiously against his. He pulls apart, and looks into her emerald eyes, but he doesn't question her, because they already both know the reason why she's the way she is.
And then it starts to rain.
He smirks at her, before carrying her up in his arms and taking her for an unexpected spin.
She doesn't scream, she doesn't yell, and she does something completely uncharacteristic of her; she laughs.
.
"I want you to make a promise," she says, and he stares at her.
She presses the bottle against her lips and throws it down because her thoughts are clouded by a little baby girl wrapped in pink towels with green eyes that look just like hers.
"What is it?" he asks, grazing his lips to the top of her head.
"Promise me you'll always love me," she says. She knows it's selfish of her, but she can't help but ask, as she fixates her eyes on the moon as she asks, looking at the stars and the moon and listens to sound of waves splashes against the rocks along the seaside.
"I don't have to promise," he finally says. "I know I will." There's a silence, and then he turns to her, stares into her eyes intently. "You know I will."
He's right; it's no secret, and she knows in her heart that it's the truth. Still, she just sighs and buries her head in his chest, clutching onto his shirt, and listens to the sound of his heartbeat.
.
On the last day of August, they both find each other on the beach, in the light drizzles.
Somehow, she knew he'd be here, and she's wearing the cross necklace he bought for her so long ago. He stares at the silver cross dangling across her neck, almost intently, his eyes unreadable as he does so.
"Summer ends today," she says. "And so does us." Wordlessly, she gives the necklace back to him, but he closes her open palm, and pushes it back into her chest gently, shocking her.
"Keep it," he insists, and his voice breaks just the slightest bit. "It was a present to you, after all."
They don't say anything, because they both know that after this his heart is going to break and bleed and shatter. And it's her fault. It's always her fault. He stares at her, longingly, and leans in and kisses him.
"I can't allow myself to love you," she says, softly, and she sniffs. "I wish I could, but I can't. You're too risky." She detaches herself and begins releasing her grip on him, but allowing herself to slip into a brief kiss and untangle herself from him in spite of her killer instincts.
"When you're finally ready to take a chance with me," he replies, sounding as if he knows it all too well, that she'll come back to him someday. "I'll be waiting."
"Someday," she responds, closing her eyes and sighing.
She leans in and gives him one final kiss, before turning on her heel and walking away. The word buzzes in her ears the entire ride back home and replays in her mind that night before she goes back to sleep, because she knows she'll be back soon, in his arms, right where she belongs. Someday.
.