I'm updating this more frequently it seems, and hopefully it continues to stay that way because the show is putting them through the ringer right now and we all need some more light-hearted romantic-comedy stuff. Anyway, enjoy and review please! :)
Visions of last night won't leave her memory no matter how hard she tries.
It's there, they're there, and she can't stop picturing it.
His hands are on her, her lips are on him. She can't get enough, doesn't want him to either.
"April!"
The loud pounding of fists against her bedroom door wakes her from her daze, turning her head against her pillow, wrapping her fingers around the corner.
She grumbles, closes one eye when the door swings open to reveal a disapproving Lexie.
"What the heck happened to you last night?"
The brunette walks into her room, freshly brewed cups of coffee in each hand. She sits down on the bottom of the bed, hands April the pink mug.
"I-"
"Yes?" She blinks, waits for an explanation as to why the redhead dismissed their plans.
April sighs, blows through the steam of her early morning coffee, "Nothing."
Lexie rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her drink apprehensively, staring down at the older woman. She squints an eye, pulls her lips into a snarl, "Bullshit."
"I kissed Jackson."
"Oh." She smiles, reaching over to the bedside table to place her mug down. She moves back then, stands up, swings a hand out until she smacks April's arm. "Hello!"
"Ow!"
"You kissed?!" Her brown eyes are wide, clearly eager to hear the details of her best friend's short-lived affair.
April sits up, careful to not spill a drop of her coffee. She nods slowly, brows knitted in slight confusion. "But then it ended, and-" She pauses, licks her lips. "He walked away."
She remembers the moment like it was only twelve hours ago. Which, fair enough, it was. But that's not the point.
She'd said "check", he'd smiled, in that charming way he usually does when he's proud of himself.
"He walked away?!" Lexie screeches, hands on her hips with a shocked look on her face, "No."
"Uh, I think he did."
"Well... Why?"
"You're asking me like it already wasn't a bruise to my ego? Really, Lex? If I knew that, I wouldn't be lay here like a vegetable."
The brunette nods slowly, sinking back down to her friend's level. She sits down beside her on the bed, rests a hand to her arm comfortably. "Did you kiss him, or did he kiss you?"
"Is there a difference?"
She's not the most experienced person. A kiss is a kiss, no matter who initiates what or who dominates the other.
"Hell yes, there's a difference!" Lexie tilts her head, "Has he called you?"
"No."
"Have you called him?"
"No."
"Do you want to?"
April places her cup down beside Lexie's purple one, drops her hands into her lap, "What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, hey, remember me? I'm your best friend that you made out with last night and ran away from'?" She shakes her head, runs a hand through her curls, "No. I am not... doing that."
"Taking a chance?"
"Embarrassing myself."
"Okay."
"Okay? That's it?" She stares up at her cautiously, "You're not gonna fight with me on this? Shove the phone into my hand and force me to deal with my problems."
The brunette grins, pulls on April's hands to drag her to stand, "No. I believe you get to make your own choices in this world, and you're choosing to be a coward." She tells her honestly.
"I'm the coward? He's the one who left without saying a word!"
"You're both cowards, April! Do you know how long people have held bets on you two? Years. I was winning. Well, technically, I've already won now, except Jacks- Look, you and Jackson, it's a little obvious how this is going to end."
April follows her up, shuffles her feet into some fuzzy slippers on her bedroom floor, "How does it end?"
Lexie smirks, bites her bottom lip, "You get to find that out all by yourself."
"You know I have clients, right? I can't just keep skipping work to help you with your wedding stuff?"
Mark smiles a handsome grin, taps the younger man's shoulder, "I'm your boss, Avery. You do whatever I ask you to." He tells him, shoves a hand to his back and pushes him towards the tailor's station.
They're in for their fittings for the wedding,
"Remind me again why you're getting married one week from now?"
The grey-haired man rolls his eyes, watches with folded arms as the tailor alters Jackson's deep grey tux.
"Because your best friend is my fiancée's maid of honour and she's apparently dying soon and Lexie wants her to be there."
Jackson swallows a sharp breath, avoids his friend's gaze. "Right?"
"You alright there, Avery? You look a little... strained?" He observes with a joke, watching as the darker skinned man fidgets uncomfortably when the tailor reaches for his pants. "Hey, what happened with her last night?"
The green-eyed masseuse sighs, "With who?"
"Don't play that game with me, Avery, we both know I'm talking about that little firecracker." Mark teases, trying to get a reaction out of him. "You two kind of disappeared after my speech?"
"We-" He stills, slips his hands into the new pockets, tries them out, "I don't wanna talk about it. Especially not with you."
"Well, who do you want to talk about it with?"
"Nobody." He shakes his head, eyes convincing as he finally glances over at his friend across the room.
Mark nods once, eyes him sharply, "Did you guys plan any of her bucket-list-wish thingies today?"
"No."
He doesn't dare say that he's avoiding her. He's meant to be her best friend, her safety blank in these times of need. He's meant to be there for her, with her, helping her.
"Why?"
Sloan shrugs casually, "Lexie wants us to go pick out some flowers and bouquets and stuff later."
"Us, or you?"
"Me, but you're tagging along.""
Jackson holds back an annoyed groan, "You're lucky I'm an Avery. We have good taste." He smirks, changes the situation in his favour.
He won't be played, tricked again.
Choosing between roses and tulips and daisies can't be that hard, can it?
"Oh, and Kepner's coming, too."
Maybe it can.
"Roses? Wait, no. Orchids?"
"Orchids aren't very wedding-y, Lex." April cuts in, stopping the brunette from picking a selection of wild orchids.
She contemplates them for a second, "Yeah. You're right." She smiles at her friend, shares a look with her fiancé across the shop, "Roses?"
"Always a classic."
"What would you have?" It's an awkward, probably rude, question to ask someone who is meant to dying in nine days but she's Lexie, she's never cruel.
April licks her lips, tugs the bottom one between her teeth for a moment, ignores the green eyes shooting daggers through her skull from the opposite side of the room. "I'd have roses."
If she were getting married, that is. If she was in love with, had someone love her enough to want to spend eternity with her. If she was madly in love, if someone was crazy about her.
It won't happen now, how could it? She has nine days left, nine days to fall in love (she hopes), nine days to fall apart (she assumes).
Nine days will never be long enough to meet someone, fall head over heels and mind over matter. Nine days is never a lifetime.
"Red, right?" Lexie continues, to which April realises she hasn't been listening for a good few moments, her gaze and entire focus instead centred on the man now five feet away from her.
"White." She nods to herself, unable to remove her gaze from her best friend's shadow. Damn him.
"That's a good choice." The voice is foreign to her, to them. The women turn around to spot a man stood behind the counter of the store, finally emerging from the back of the room.
He has deep blonde hair, eyes like marbles. He's tall, maybe a little taller than Jackson. His lips are thin, skin light like porcelain. He's generic, a Malibu Man.
"Hi." Lexie holds out a hand, flashes her large ring smugly, "I'm Lexie, the bride-to-be." She smiles toothily, "We spoke on the phone, right?"
"Yes." He nods, shakes her hand politely before extending his own to April. "I'm Matthew."
The redhead smiles, lets a small blush creep up to her cheeks. He's nothing special, but he's practically a spitting image of her childhood fantasy.
He's almost exactly what she pictured, wanted, when she was alone in her room, surrounding by books instead of loved ones.
"April." She shakes his hand, pushes a strand of hair behind her ear casually.
Lexie watches the exchange, flicks a look over at her fiancé as he approaches the counter, Jackson by his side.
"Mark. The groom." He introduces himself quickly, waves a hand over to the other man, "Jackson. Best man."
"Nice to meet you." The florist greets them, cheesy grin playing on his lips. "So, when's the wedding?"
Lexie begins to converse with him, letting Mark wrap a possessive arm around her waist. She laughs, giggles, leaves April stood awkwardly beside her safety net.
There's a silence between them as they wait for the future spouses to arrange all of their ideas.
Jackson keeps checking his watch, leans against the wall beside the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest, drops his gaze anywhere but on her face.
"I'm sorry." It's low, quiet enough for her to almost miss it.
April turns to face him then, lips dry and hands shaky by her sides, "I figured."
"What is that supposed to mean?" He frowns, green eyes darkening as he notices her expression.
He doesn't understand her. One minute, she wants him to, begs him to, folds into him like a card into a deck. The next, she's pushing him away, using her own, his own, weakness against him.
"That it was a mistake, and it should never happen again."
She's not entirely convinced of her own words, not completely sure she means what she says.
"Right." He stiffs a laugh, shakes his head with blinking eyes, focusing his attention onto the ceiling.
She's damaging him, wounding him. But if she wants to pretend that there's nothing there, that nothing's changing, then he'll play along.
"Mark thinks we should have dinner."
"Why?" The redheaded woman nervously looks up at him, takes a step toward him just as Matthew the florist turns to them with a smile.
"Because we're the wedding party, and apparently we have speeches and stuff to do." He shrugs, almost careless, almost against the idea.
He wants to spend time with her, the most he can get given the circumstances.
But maybe she doesn't want to spend her time with him anymore, maybe she's found a better way of spending her last days.
"Okay." She nods, takes a deep breath with a soft smile, "I'll come over later?"
"Sure."
Just then, the other three come out from the back of the shop, a folder full of papers in Lexie's arms as she walks with a grin.
"Sorted?" April smiles.
"Yep." The brunette gleams, pulls her aside as they leave the store, letting Mark mutter their goodbyes.
She makes sure they're quite far ahead of the guys before spilling the beans, squeezing April's arm excitedly.
Lexie pulls a small post-it note from her stack of documents, shoves it into April's empty hands. "He gave you his number."
"The-" April's eyes widen, lips parting.
Maybe this is it. Maybe this is fate. Maybe this is a wish.
"Matthew?"
"Yeah." She squeals, checks over their shoulders and pretends she never sees Jackson staring at the trauma surgeon the same way she knows Mark stares at her. "He's gonna call you later."
"Oh." April gulps, face suddenly brightening up, "Wow!"
The date doesn't go so bad in the end.
She learns all about him. He's from Michigan, the son of a paramedic and a radio host.
He's thirty-five, never been married. He has no kids, no partner. He's lived in Seattle for the past four years, moved there out of curiosity.
He'd invited her to dinner in the Space Needle, after hearing from Lexie that she wanted to finally go there.
The view was incredible, overlooking the city and her locals.
"How's your beef?" She sips a little of her red wine, smiles over at him from across the table.
He grins, places his fork down. "Delicious."
She hadn't exactly been expecting the date to go this well. She'd been nervous, worried about whether or not this was a smart move.
But he asks her about her interest, her job, her bucket list. He's aware of it, apparently. He compliments her baby blue dress, kisses her cheeks charmingly.
He's sweet, perfect almost, and she regrets ever kissing Jackson. He tainted her, the reminder of his lips behind the only downfall of this evening.
She wonders how Matthew kisses, wonders if he'll even try to kiss her.
Maybe he's just humouring her, giving her a final good date before she dies, maybe Lexie asked him to. Maybe he can't handle seeing a dying person, maybe he's just doing it out of pity.
Or, maybe, this could be it. She could quickly fall in love with him, give him her everything. It could work, if he's on board, that is.
"So, what else is left on that list of yours?" He bats his lashes, holds a glass a certain way that it catches her attention.
April smiles, shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, "Not much."
She takes a deep breath. That's a lie, since there's actually so much she still wants to accomplish. But he might be apart of some of those, and she doesn't want to frighten him with the possibility just yet.
"I want to go to San Francisco. And witness a miracle. And-"
"And you're sure this psychic... woman was right?" He raises a brow out of curiosity, slides a hand across the table to cover her own gently, "You don't seem like you're dying to me."
"I know." She swallows a breath, contemplates whether or not to retract her hand. She doesn't, can't risk the chance that he's the one for her. "She wasn't very forthcoming on the specifics."
"That sucks." He says, traces his thumb over her knuckles, looks down at their hands briefly before flicking his brown eyes back up at her face with a small smile. "This dinner has been lovely, by the way." Matthew tells her and she nods.
The redhead agrees, runs her free hand through her hair, "Yep." She bites her lower lip, waits for him to make a move.
There's a moment's silence before he speaks, before she hears him finally move, "Listen."
He begins with a stall, removes his hand from her own after patting it gently, "You're great, and a lovely person, but-"
"But I'm dying. Or not pretty enough. Or I'm boring." April finishes for him, slouches back in her dinner seat. "Thanks."
"No, no." He frowns, places both hands down in his lap. "That's not it, April." He shakes his brown hair, "I just- Can you do me a favour?"
She'd completely forgotten that she plans with Jackson that night until she was already heading in his direction.
Her feet lead her to his building, into the elevator until she reaches his floor.
She knocks quietly, hoping that he's not asleep and still waiting for her.
He's understanding, he always has been.
He'd be happy for her, happy that she had a date. He usually is, usually lets her ramble and fawn and gush and spill details he'd actually rather not hear, details she doesn't know she'd bruising him with.
"Coming!" April hears him shout from the other side of the door when she taps again, fist against the wood and feet to the fancy carpeted hallway floor.
The door pulls open after a second, and he lingers with a hand pressed against he doorway.
"Are you going to let me in?" She perks a brow, smiles almost nervously.
"Yeah." Jackson doesn't budge, instead remind where he is and keps his eyes focused on her face.
"What, you got a lady friend in here or something?" The petite woman shoves past him, hand against his bare flesh, reminding him that he should probably slip a shirt on.
He rolls his eyes, moves so she can enter. "Very funny."
She has no clue just how wrong, how off base, she truly is.
April spins around to face him when he shuts the door, a thoughtful look on her face. "I have something for you."
He locks the door, turns around to look at het with hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets. A shirt can wait, he thinks. "Yeah?"
"Uh huh." She nods, holds up a finger as she reaches into her purse.
She steps closer to him when she finds what she's looking for, holding up a folded up napkin between her fingertips. "The florist... gave you his number."
Jackson's eyes widen, throat clearing as he stares down at the crumbled up piece of paper. "Nah."
She giggles once, lowers the napkin, "No?"
"No," he shakes his head as he walks around her towards the kitchen, "I am not accepting that."
"Just call him!"
"No!" He screeches, green eyes squinted and lips tight, "What the hell, April? No!"
She tosses it down on the kitchen counter, slides her purse along the granite surface before beginning to unbutton her coat.
"You ruined my date."
He pulls two bottles from the fridge, tilts one in her direction and she nods in acceptance. He twists the caps off, hands a bottle over to her. "How did I ruin our date? Wait- you went out with him?"
"Yes." She sighs, "And it was going great until he asked me to give you his number and told me that he was gay!"
"It's not my fault he lead you on!"
"It's your fault I couldn't stop thinking about you." She wants to tell him, ignoring the desire to drop her gaze onto his lips.
April takes a heavy breath, sits herself down onto one of his bar stools.
"You're right." She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, shifts her shoulders hen she feels a breeze run down her back. "Hey, what was it Mark wanted us to do?"
"Speeches." He shrugs, "For some reason, he thinks it'll be better if we write them together."
She frowns, "That makes no sense."
"It's Mark, Twelve Days. What do you expect?" He teases her, and she blushes at the recurring nickname.
"Okay, so... What have you got so far?"
"Nothing much." He grabs a notepad from the kitchen counter, waves it about, "I started it but-"
She reaches up to snatch the block of paper from his hand and she drops it onto the island to read, "Mark and Lexie are two of the great people you will ever meet. But they're also selfish. When they're around each other, it's like nothing else matters. He looks at her like she's his other half, the missing link to his chain. She does the sane, except, you know, she's a girl so it's cheesier." April reads it aloud, a small grin on her face. "Jackson!"
"What?" He flinches when she swats his arm with the notepad, a disapproving look on her face.
"I can't decide if that was cute or terrible." She reasons, shaking her head just as her phone rings.
With a little laugh, she pulls her mobile from her purse, doesn't check the caller ID before she answers, "Hey, Lexie."
Jackson wanders around the kitchen as he waits for her to finish her conversation, finding a dark grey sweater in a clean laundry pile and slipping it over his head.
It's only when he turns back around, that he notices what she's wearing.
She has a pale blue dress hanging perfectly down her body, though it's still not as great as the red one from the night before. It bares her shoulders, the sleeves mid-length, a few buttons down the back and it cuts off just below her knees. It's very April.
"We'll be right there. Bye!" She hangs up the phone then, pulling her best friend from his trance.
"What do they want now?" He groans already, dreading what she's going to say.
April smirks, stands from her seat and picks up her jacket. "They're moving up the wedding to... tomorrow night." She blinks, watches as he does the same.
"Tomorrow? Are they crazy?"
"They can't wait, apparently." She tries, "And Lexie wants us to meet them down the church for a rehearsal. Right now." She retrieves his car keys from the bowl beside the front door, tosses them over to him.
"Are you sure you want to spend your supposed last days doing this kind of crap?"
He wants to spend time with her, definitely, but the way she wants, doing what she wants to do. Not this. He still isn't falling for this "dying in nine days" thing but he's going along with it, for her benefit. Which means that he doesn't want to watch her play puppet to Lexie's demands and waste her supposed last days of life away.
"I can fit one more wedding in before I go, Jackson. It won't kill me!" She jokes.
He chuckles, shrugs a jacket over his shoulders as they leave his apartment, "Very funny."
"You are going to stand here." Lexie's controlling hands are on his biceps, forcing into position behind her groom.
Jackson rolls his eyes when she taps his arm proudly.
"Happy?" He quips, raising a brow down at the brunette teasingly.
She nods once, doesn't catch on to his sarcasm, "Very." She rubs her hands together, turns to face her maid of honour, "April, come stand behind me."
Lexie moves in front of Mark, clasps his hands tightly within her own, stares up at his face longingly. She grits her teeth, watches as April follows her lead. "A little to the left."
"What?" April frowns, folding her arms over her chest.
"To the left!" Lexie screams, face reddening in frustration.
April's hazel eyes widen at her outburst, shares a look with. Her best friend across the way. Jackson holds back a laugh, lowers his head to avoid the bride-to-be's death glare.
"Alright. Good." She takes a deep breath, sways her and Mark's hands back and forth.
"Babe, calm down." He whispers as the minister steps in beside them, flicking through pages of his book.
The old man looks up after a moment, pushes his glasses further up his nose with a gentle smile. "Mark, you're going to begin tomorrow, yes?"
"My speech?"
"Vows!"
"My vows?" He corrects himself with a bruised fist from Lexie, "Yeah." He fakes a smiles, shares a quick knowing look with his best man.
"Where is everybody else?" Jackson asks, peeking his head around to ask the brunette.
She pulls a face, "It's a last-minute rehearsal, Jackson. Everyone is working apart from you two idiots." She explains, almost cutting herself off with a groan when her pager beeps. "Are you kidding me?!"
"Do you have to go in?"
She steps down from the alter, quickly rummaging through her purse to find her pager. "Yeah." With a frown, she turns back around, eyes her future husband pleadingly. "Sorry, Father." She excuses herself, "Can you drive me in, please, Mark?"
"Yeah. Sure." Mark follows her down, leaving the two best friends stood alone at the alter.
"So you dragged us all the way out here for this?"
"I have patients, Jackson!" Lexie shrieks, avoids the temptation to throw her page at his face, "Just- learn your place!"
Mark sends him an apologetic look, wraps an arm around her shoulders as they begin to leave the church.
April licks her lips, shuffles awkwardly on her feet. She hears the minister clear his throat and looks up at him innocently. "Sorry about this."
The green-eyed man groans a few feet away from her, glancing down at his watch.
"Would you like to practice?" The Father asks her, his eyes flicking rapidly between her and Jackson.
"Oh, that-" She smalls softly, looks at Jackson for help.
He shrugs, clearly not against the idea. "Sure. I've got Mark's vows, so..." He whips a small piece of paper out of his jeans' pocket, opens the folded corners. "Come on, April, help the holy Father out."
As an Atheist, he's not entirely on board with the idea of doing this, in a church of all places.
But she's religious, she's faithless. She should love it, right?
"Okay." April gives in, taking a step forward to stand in Lexie's place, watches as Jackson does the same in front of her. "I don't have anything." The corners of her turn up and she shoots the minister a strained look.
He shrugs, "That doesn't matter. Say what you feel." He smiles.
That thought seems to make her uncomfortable because she fidgets, moves her shoulders that way Jackson knows all too well.
"Say what you think Lexie would feel." He corrects the Father, nodding his head to April as if to tell her that it's alright.
She takes a deep breath, clasps her hands together in front of her, messing with the hem of her blue dress.
She keeps her eyes on his sweater, on his arms, on his muscles, anywhere to avoid his face. "You are my everything." She begins, couching softly.
Jackson smirks, enjoying it a little bit more than he probably should, than what's probably allowed in a church.
"I didn't ever think that I would find you, or that I would end up here, but I have. And I have you, and I never want to live any differently. You have made me so happy, and my life has been so much better since you've been around."
The minister holds up a hand to stop her, clearly catching on to her nerves. "Why don't you go first?" He turns to Jackson with a knowing smile.
It's an entirely awkward situation, and she's not why she stayed. Maybe she wants to, maybe she's meant to.
Jackson clears his throat before letting his eyes scan the paper in front of him.
"Lex- My bride," He smirks, "How do I begin to describe these feelings?" He reads, brows knitting as he continues softly, "You are like sunlight creeping through my window at the break of dawn. You are like Christmas morning. You make everyday enjoyable, a new experience."
He glances up at April, notices the way she looks up at him through long lashes. He pauses, takes a second to observe her, takes a moment to forget about the vows already written in his hands.
"You are my life. I would be nothing if I didn't have you, and I never want to know a world like that. I never want to live without you. I never could. I've known you for years, and yet, it only seems like yesterday that we first met."
Jackson smiles, licks dry lips as his green eyes lighten up.
She gulps an unsteady breath, keeps a faint pink colour tint on her cheeks as he continues.
"There's a reason people choose to believe in soulmates. It's not because they're tragic, or amazing, or... I don't believe in soulmates. I believe in life, and love. I believe that if you're truly meant to spend eternity with one person, then you will. I believe that I'm supposed to be eternity with you, and you with me. I believe that you're it."
He takes a breath, lets his hand crinkle the unfolded scrap of paper, can't take his gaze away from her watery hazel eyes.
"I love you, and I know that life is short so you have to make every second count. I believe that you can't just let things happen. You have to go after those moments, the ones that will just pass you by if let them, the ones that matter. I love you, everything about it, and I only want to spend this lifetime with you, no matter how short it is. I will love you until our time together ends, and for all of eternity. I love you. And I hope you love me, too."
April wipes a small tear from her cheek, tilts her head with a light smile, keeps her eyes on is face.
She knows that he didn't read that, memorise that. He spoke it, meant it. She's not sure where it came from.
She steps closer to him after a second's thought, tentatively raises her hands to his chest.
Her hands slide up his body until she links her arms around his neck, body nervous against his own. "That was beautiful."
"You think so?" He grins, almost bashfully, voice low and husky as he lowers his eyes onto her lips, licks his own again. He raises a brow when she nods, the two of them completely ignorant to the church official beside them.
April nods her head once, twice, finally leans up on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. She moans into the kiss, lets him drop his hands to her sides, fingers curling around her waist.
"If I may-" The Father begins, interrupting their moment.
Jackson pulls away from her lips, forehead pressed against hers, viper-like green eyes piercing her sweet gaze intently, "Yeah?"
"Would you like me to continue?" He gestures down at the book in his hands, peeks up at them curiously.
Is he asking if they want to get married? Now?
"No, thank you,"
"No, we're good."
"Alright."