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Mamihlapinatepei
Yaghan, noun: a look shared between two people with each wishing the other will initiate something that which both desire, but neither wants to start.
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"You need to get her out of the house for a few hours."
His words were frantic, desperate. He needed Gabriella out of the house and he needed her out now. He glanced at the clock. It was already eleven o'clock. Oh, fuck, he was screwed. He was expecting them at twelve. He needed her to leave and he needed her to leave now.
Jason rolled his eyes and adjusted his viking helmet on his head. It was a Thursday and this of course meant that Jason was hung over. Jason, was like many people, a firm believer in celebrating hump day, so every Wednesday evening he went to the bars and got smashed and every Thursday he'd call in sick to work. His employer just stopped giving him shifts on Thursdays after a while, which suited Jason just fine. He wouldn't have come in anyways.
"Why don't you just tell her, man?" he asked, wincing as his head throbbed. "I mean, that way you don't have to go to all of this trouble and all this sneaking around and bullshit."
Troy was bouncing on his heels, tapping his foot anxiously. "Jason, no, I want to do this and I am going to continue doing it as I have been for the last three weeks. Now stop being an asshole and help me think of something!"
Jason leaned back in his chair and scoffed. "No, man, I don't want to think. I can't think."
"Fuck you for getting drunk all the time!" Troy exclaimed, exasperated. "You need to think, please man, I have never needed help so much in my entire life."
Rolling his eyes once again, Jason pressed his head to the table. "Troy, I am hungover. Why don't you please go bother someone else?"
"Because!" he near shouted, "No one else is home but you and Gabriella! You're my last resort!"
"Thanks," Jason huffed.
"Well, look at you!" Troy said, reaching over and yanking off Jason's helmet. "You're positively useless!"
"I am not useless!" Jason said, sounding appalled. "I just like to party!"
Troy pressed a hand to his forehead. He was starting to understand how Chad felt. "That makes you useless. Seriously, you can't think of any excuse?"
"Nope," Jason said, his words muffled as he rolled over face first on the table.
"But why?" Troy asked, exasperated. "You're the king of excuses!"
"Two words," Jason said, holding out his hand. "Hung. Over. Now give me back my helmet."
Troy sighed, dropping it back on Jason's head. He was going to get no help, clearly. He glanced at the clock again, anxiously. It was already eleven fifteen. What the hell was he going to do?
Of course, he could make up same lame excuse when it all arrived, but that would be so lame and he had gotten so far without her suspecting much. This would ruin everything.
"Hey, man?" Jason's voice came and Troy broke away from staring at the clock to look at him. "You okay?"
"No!" Troy sighed. "I'm obviously not!"
Jason blinked slowly, finally fully comprehending the situation. "She's really gotten under your skin, hasn't she?"
Troy looked up at him, startled at his observation. "Normally that would go right over your head," he said, running a hand through his hair.
"Man, this is obvious, though," Jason said, sitting up fully. "You guys have been hanging out more. You're going to all of this trouble just so she won't move out. How could I not notice?"
"She can't move out, Jason," Troy said quietly. "She can't."
Furrowing his brows, the dark haired man looked at his friend, concerned. "Why?"
Troy let out another sigh. "Because if she moves out, there's no chance I'll ever really talk to her again. She'll move on, she'll meet new people. There's nothing that will hold her to us anymore."
"You mean you," Jason said bluntly. Troy's head snapped up again.
"Yeah," he swallowed. "I mean me. And I...I don't think I could handle that, not after all this time. Not after everything that's happened."
"All this time?" Jason mused. "Are you saying...do you...did you have feelings for Gabriella?"
Troy looked down and didn't say anything, but his silence spoke volumes for him. Suddenly Jason understood.
"So that's why this is so important. So that's why you're so uptight about me not helping you think of an excuse."
"Yes, you idiot!" Troy said, snapping out of his thoughts. "You suck, I can't even begin to explain! You're leaving your friend in need!"
"Uh oh," a feminine voice said. "What did Jason do now?"
Gabriella appeared in the kitchen, smiling brightly and dressed in a soft, yellow sundress, her hair down in waves. Troy melted.
"He's being a bad friend," he said, hoping she would just accept it for what it was and move on.
"Oh?" she said, raising her eyebrows. "How so?"
Troy and Jason looked at each other quickly. It was go time and they had nothing. Shit, shit, shit.
"Because Jeff needs help!" Jason suddenly exclaimed and Troy had to stop himself from slapping his forehead in frustration.
"Jeff needs help?" Gabriella asked slowly and both the men nodded. "With what exactly?"
"Getting Annabel!" Jason proclaimed again, grasping at straws. "He needs help with a lot of things, but mostly just this!"
"Yes, this is true!" Troy stammered. "And um, they're both working today so he needs someone to go over there and casually mention how awesome he is!"
"And I can't do it because I'm hungover!" Jason filled in. "So, Troy here was going to go and pick up an ink cartridge cause he's out anyways, but he can't because he's, um..."
"Editing!" Troy picked up. "Editing, the photos we took, um I need to get them sent to a client as an example of my work! For the, uh, job I'm applying for, remember?"
She nodded slowly. "Okay..."
"So we're both being terribly friends," Jason explained. "And we really, really need someone to go there and do this for Jeff. Before twelve o'clock. Because he's desperate. Because he's jeff."
Gabriella laughed. "I can do it, I don't have anything better to do."
"You can?" Troy said, almost too excitedly. "I mean, you can?"
She glanced around the room, slightly confused. "Well, yeah. What kind of ink did you need?"
"Um," Troy tried to think of what could possibly be low on his printer. "CMYK. For my Phaser. That's the one. Um, here, let me write it down." He grabbed a piece of paper off the counter and wrote down the initials quickly before ripping it off and handing out to her. "Just incase you forget."
She took the piece of paper from him, their fingers brushing. "I think I can remember four letters."
"Yeah, well," Troy shrugged, his fingers tingling from her touch. Was it just him or had she held on a little bit longer? "Just incase."
She smiled, before turning to walk up the stairs to grab her purse. "Always so thoughtful, Bolton," she gave him a wink before leaving and he stared after her, completely taken in by her brief presence.
"You are a sap, Troy," Jason declared from his spot at the kitchen table. Troy glared and whacked him in the head.
"Hey! I just helped you out and that's what I get in return!" Jason held his throbbing head. "I have hangover!"
"And I am well aware of this fact," Troy said with a smirk as he sauntered out of the kitchen. "Saving my ass at the last minute doesn't count."
With that, he walked back upstairs to Edward's room, making sure Gabriella wasn't in the vicinity. He still had so much to do.
---
Since coming upon the realization that she was falling in love with Troy, Gabriella's world was upside down. For a good hour she had pondered over how she was to act around him. It was such a precarious situation, one she certainly never would have thought herself in. She would have never even considered falling in love with one of Edward's friends, nevermind Troy. But she had and she was and as scary as it was, it was wonderful all at once.
Suddenly his touch brought more sparks and heat to her body. When his eyes would linger on hers just a moment longer, she felt a calm come over her like never before. Everything was brighter, softer, happier. Only one question remained and that was whether or not Troy felt the same way.
She wanted to believe that he did. That all of the things he had done for her meant something. They didn't mean nothing, this she knew for certain, but it was hard for her to differentiate between what was meant romantically, lovingly and what was Troy being just a nice guy. Considering she had only really gotten to know him in the last two months, she couldn't really be sure.
Maybe this in itself should have alarmed her. She could even recognize when something he did meant something and when it didn't. But wasn't this the same with all males? Didn't women encounter with a constant guessing game surrounding their emotions and motives almost everyday? With Edward it had been so easy: he had made it clear that he was interested from the start. But his love for her hadn't been deep, so she couldn't base it off of that.
Needless to say, Gabriella was experiencing boy trouble and relationship drama that she had thought she had done away with in high school. Leave it to her dead ex-fiancee's best friend to make her feel like a kid.
But that was just one of the many things that Troy did for her. He brought her back to the carefree inner child that she had long go forgotten existed. He gave her hope and comfort in areas she hadn't before considered. He was amazing and really, when she thought about it, there was no question as to why she fell in love with him.
Now all she had to do was figure out what she was going to do with these feelings. But for now, she was going to find this stupid ink cartridge refill kiosk and do the dirty work that both Troy and Jason had bailed on.
Wandering through the mall, she finally found it, nestled in the centre of the walkway in between the H&M and Abercrombie. She furrowed her brows. What an odd place to stick an ink cartridge refill center.
There they were, she thought as she approached. Jeff, standing awkwardly to the side refilling a cartridge as Annabel stood at the counter, scribbling something on a pad of paper. She was the same as Gabriella remembered her, her shocking red hair cropped short and she wore a bright graphic tank top, a green floral print skinny jeans and a black cardigan. What stood out most about her was the gold framed sunglasses that sat upon her nose. Jeff hadn't lied. She wore them indoors.
"Hi!" Gabriella said brightly as she approached the counter. "I'm Gabriella Montez! We met at the barbeque a couple of weeks ago?"
"Oh! Hey!" Annabel said just as brightly. "It's good to see you again!" She dropped her pen and Gabriella's eyes fell onto the pad of paper she had been writing on. Turns out she hadn't been writing at all. She was sketching robots.
"Gabriella?" Jeff's confused voice came from the other side. "What are you doing here?"
Gabriella winked coyly at him. "Troy needed a refill for his printer, but he's caught up doing...doing something and Jason is hung over. So I volunteered to come help him out." She gave another wink and Jeff raised an eyebrow.
"Wait a sec, what time is it?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "Oh. Twelve thirty. Well, that explains everything."
"What do you mean?" Now it was Gabriella's turn to be confused.
"Nothing, nothing!" Jeff said, waving her off. "So you needed what exactly?"
Gabriella held out the piece of paper to him. "A CMYK ink cartridge. For a Phaser printer? I don't even know."
Jeff nodded. "Could have sworn he just got these refilled like a week ago."
"What?" Gabriella was feeling more confused by the second.
"Nothing, nothing!" Jeff said. "This'll be ready in a sec. Can you ring her up now, Annabel?"
The red head nodded, looking just as confused as Gabriella. "You're so weird, Jeff," she said with a smile.
"Oh, he's not that weird," Gabriella said, trying to remain inconspicuous. "Just, you know, different."
"Well, it's okay, either way," Annabel said, hitting a few keys on the cash register. "I'm weird, too."
Gabriella smiled, biting her lip slightly. "May I ask why you're wearing the sunglasses inside? Isn't it hard to see? Or is it a fashion statement?"
Annabel shook her head. "They help me to think better."
"Oh," Gabriella said, acting like she understood. She didn't. "I see."
"I call them my sunnies," Annabel explained. "I have four pairs. A yellow pair, they're like, these huge bug sunglasses, a black and blue striped pair of Wayfarers and this real rad pair that had a red frame...I can't explain them. I have one for every occasion and mood. These are my Elvis shades and they are the most special."
"Why is that?" Gabriella asked. The girl was certainly something. "A big Elvis fan?"
"Well, I do enjoy his music, but not quite." Annabel laughed. "Kay, well, I am a huge movie buff. Like, to the point where it's almost absurd. I own nearly six hundred DVDs. Anyways, there's this one movie, 'True Romance' and it's one of my absolute favourites, but that's not really saying a lot. And this character, Clarence Worley, played by Christian Slater, wore Elvis Shades, too."
"Ah," Gabriella said. This girl was a perfect match for Jeff and it was becoming glaringly obvious.
"So I decided I had to have them. I ended up buying these on E-Bay," she sighed. "These are my babies."
Gabriella laughed. "You know, you should come over for dinner tomorrow night, you are a lot of fun. I tend to do all of the cooking now a days and I'm sure Jeff would love it."
To Gabriella's surprise, Annabel blushed. "You think?" she asked. "He doesn't seem to like me very much. Aside from when he asked me to the barbeque, he barely talks to me."
"Oh, trust me!" Gabriella mentally slapped Jeff. She knew he was doing this all wrong! "He would love it! You could bring this movie, the romance one, too! We could make a night out of it, the guys won't mind."
"Well, why not?" Annabel said cheerfully. "Most days I just chill with my best friend and roommate Holly, but she's a writer, so she can be insufferable sometimes. It'll be good to get out of the house for a few hours."
"Alright, then," Gabriella said, a wide smile on her face. "Any food preferences?"
"I don't like pizza," she said quickly and then laughed at Gabriella's shocked expression. "I know, I know."
"Never met anyone who didn't like pizza," Gabriella said, laughing along with her. "What's my total, by the way? And I'll need a receipt, I hope Troy doesn't think I'm paying for this."
Annabel finished ringing Gabriella up and Jeff emerged from the other side of the kiosk a moment later. "Here you go, Gabriella," he said, handing her a bag. "He won't run out of ink for ages now."
Gabriella took the bag and frowned. What the heck was he going on about? "Okay, then," her frowned turned into a smile. "Annabel's coming over for dinner tomorrow night. And then we're going to watch 'True Romance'."
Jeff's eyes doubled in size. "What? I mean, that's great, but, um..."
"What, did you not want me to come?" Annabel said, looking a little hurt. "Because I totally understand if I'm intruding."
"No, no!" Jeff said frantically. "I think it's awesome that you're coming! I, I can't wait!"
Annabel broke into a smile. "Okay, then!"
Jeff shot Gabriella a thankful look and she shrugged. "Alright, I'm off then! See you at home Jeff and see you at dinner tomorrow, Annabel!"
"Wait!" Jeff cried out and Gabriella and Annabel exchanged a look at his outburst. He glanced at the clock. It was only a quarter to one. "Maybe you should go shopping for a while. Go kill sometime."
"But why?" Gabriella asked.
"There's a great sale at Aldo. You should go treat yourself," Jeff sputtered and Annabel nodded.
"Oh, yes, all of their sandals are like, cut in half price wise," she clamored. "And H&M has a bunch of stuff reduced, too. You should totally go check it out."
Gabriella stopped to consider this. She hadn't gone shopping in so long. What could it hurt? "Yeah, sure, why not?" She smiled. "I should do something for myself."
"That's the spirit!" Jeff said, shooting her a thumbs up sign. Laughing to herself, Gabriella left as Annabel went back to her robots and Jeff went back to awkwardly shooting glances at her.
Oh, love.
---
"Hey, can I come in?"
Troy's voice was muffled through the closed door of his room and Gabriella swung her legs off the side of his bed where she was currently settled, reading a book. "It's your room!" she called out to him. "Of course you can come in!"
The door opened a moment later and she was greeted with a nervous looking Troy, his hair covered by his beanie and dressed in a pair of grey jeans and a blue t-shirt. He smiled bashfully at her as he closed the door behind him. "I just wanted to make sure you were decent, is all."
She nodded, setting her book down beside her. "Thank you for that," she said, "Some men wouldn't even consider it."
"Yeah, well..." Troy trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "Are you busy right now? Oh," he paused, catching sight of her book. "You're reading. You are busy. I'll come back later."
"Troy!" Gabriella didn't want him to leave just yet. Why did he seem so nervous? "It's a book, it's not going to change if I abandon it for a while. What is it?"
He swallowed, eyes darting around the room. "Um, I have something to show you."
She raised an eyebrow when he didn't elaborate. "You do?" she asked slowly, making sure she was on the same page as him. He was acting awfully funny.
He nodded quickly. "Yep," he swallowed again. "I do. And if you're not busy, would you perhaps like to come see it?"
Standing up, she walked over to the door and opened it. "Lead the way," she said softly, gesturing for him to step out of the room ahead of her.
"Is it downstairs?" she asked, wondering what he could possibly have to show her that would get him in such a tizzy. She began to walk towards the staircase, but his fingers caught hers and pulled her backwards down the hall.
"No, it's um," he closed his eyes. "I wanted you to see Edward's old room. I've finished renovating it."
She stopped walking, thoroughly confused. "I thought you weren't renovating it," she said skeptically. "You said it was going to be a storage room."
"Yeah, it is," Troy said, walking down the hall, his hand on the doorknob to Edward's room. "But since you helped with the paint job, I just decided I wanted you to see the finished product."
She furrowed her brows. What was he up to? "Okay..." she said, coming to stand beside him. He opened the door and gestured for her to go inside.
"Ladies first."
Stepping into the room, Gabriella gasped. He had lied.
The walls were still the pale green she had picked out, but it was certainly no storage room. There was a double bed against one of the walls, the frame a dark wood stained black and the headboard covered in black fabric. A white comforter with black flowers was spread across the bed with several colourful throw pillows sitting on top. A small black nightstand was beside it with a white porcelain lamp sitting on top next to an alarm clock and a vase of lavender roses.
A desk was on the other side of the room, her laptop placed on the top. She wondered briefly why she hadn't noticed it was missing from his room earlier. Over top on the wall were several black and white photographs of flowers; the ones he had taken in the garden that day. Next to the desk was a tall bookshelf, empty aside from one novel.
Trembling slightly, she walked closer into the room and over to the bookshelf, picking the book up. She gasped upon seeing the cover.
The Virgin Suicides.
She turned to him slowly, one hand clutching the book and the other over her mouth. He was standing there, bashfully, his hands in his pockets observing her. Slowly removing her shaking hand, she swallowed harshly and spoke.
"This isn't a storage room," she said bluntly and Troy laughed.
"No, it's not," he said with a weak smile. "This is a proposition. An offer."
"An offer?" she said, her voice cracking. "What do you—"
"You've been here for two months now, Gabriella," Troy began, coming to stand in front of her. "And in those two months, you have become a friend to all of us and to me especially. I know you think you should move out because you feel like you're taking advantage of us, but you're not. And I know part of that has to do with the fact that I'm still sleeping on the couch."
She looked down, tears clouding her vision. "Yes, well, it looks awfully uncomfortable —"
"And I chose to take it because I want to see you comfortable, happy," he swallowed, bringing his hands up to graze over her arms. His fingers ran up and down gently as he continued. "The thing is Gabriella, and this is selfish of me, but I don't care. I don't want you to leave. I...I need you to stay."
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart speed up. He didn't want her to leave. She knew this, but she hearing the desperation in his voice took it to an entirely different level. Did this mean? Could it be?
"So if you want," he looked up into her watery eyes, surprised to see the tears lingering there. "If you want this room is yours. You can take your stuff out of storage that you want and you can stay here. You can live here if you want. I've talked it over with the guys and they all want you to stay. Maybe not as much as I do, because I really, really do but...please don't leave."
She didn't say anything, but instead pressed her fingers to her lips as they trembled. He had redecorated the room for her. He had given her a place to stay. He was offering her a home. She felt the tears slide down her cheeks as the emotions overwhelmed her. God, this man was amazing.
"Oh, shit, Gabriella!" Troy said, sounding panicked. The pad of his thumb caught the tears as they fell from her eyes. "Please don't cry! I um, if you don't want the room, I understand! You can move out, we'll still be friends! And if you want to stay here, but it's too weird, cause you know, it was Edward's old room, I can stay here! I just figured you'd want your own space and you did pick the colour, but I like it, too, so that's okay!"
She felt herself laugh and she gave into the urge she had been holding back and threw her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. His speech was cut off and he carefully brought his arms up to wrap around her.
"Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "Thank you so, so much." She let go of him and skipped across the room, running her hands over the furniture and other belongings. She felt like a giddy child.
Sitting on the bed, which was now her bed, she flopped down. "How did you do all of this? How did I not know?"
Troy shrugged, leaning against the desk. "Oh, you know, I did it when you weren't home. I had Taylor help with a lot of the prints and stuff, I don't know much about what girls like and my skills with colour from photography only went so far. Chad ordered the stuff last week and then thankfully, I came up with the excuse to go get the ink cartridge to get you out of the house for a few hours. It worked like a charm."
"I can't believe this," she sat up, looking around the room. "I can't believe you did this. You are the most incredible man I know."
Troy flushed and ducked his head. "Uh, I don't know about that."
"No, you are," she said again, staring at him. "So few people would do this for anyone, especially someone like me after I had been so awful to you. I cannot believe you did this."
"There's one thing, though," Troy said carefully, quietly. He walked over to the closet and opened the door, emerging a second later with a box in his hands. Stepping over to her, he took a deep breath and held it out to her.
"What is this?" she asked curiously. She stood and opened the flaps of the box, taking a look inside. The box held were four books, a baseball and two button down shirts. She furrowed her brows.
He let out another breath, setting the box down on the ground between them. Adjusting the beanie on his head awkwardly, he nudged it with his toe. "This is a box of Ed's old stuff. It was what I salvaged from the wreck in here after you totally trashed it," he grinned when he saw her smile at the memory, glad it was no longer a taboo. "And the thing is, it didn't feel fair to me to just throw it out without giving you any input on whether you wanted it."
"I know that sounds of absurd," he said, beginning to babble, "but despite everything that happened, at one time you loved Edward and he is gone now and you were engaged, for Christ's sake so..." he sighed, "It just seemed right. So, you can decide what to do with it. Whether you want to keep it or put it in storage or throw it in a wood-chipper, your decision."
Gabriella didn't say anything for a moment, bending down to look through the belongings. The feeling she had anticipated upon seeing Edward's old things didn't come; instead she felt nothing. It was a part of her past, a bad one at that, so why did she want to dwell on it. The feeling of nothingness calmed her immensely and dropping one of the books back into the box, she flipped it shut and picked it up.
"I think I know just what to do with it," she declared and marched to the other side of the room. She opened the doors leading outside to the balcony and stepped outside, the cool night air hitting her skin. Troy quickly followed behind her.
"Gabriella, what the heck are you doing?" he asked, sounding slightly alarmed, but she shook her head, smiling brightly.
"Troy!" she said with a laugh. "Calm down!" With that, she held the box over the side of the balcony's rail and let it slip from her fingers. It fell down to the first story, landing on the porch roof and bouncing off to fall onto the pathway to the front door with a loud thump and a smash.
"Whoops!" she said, laughing and Troy couldn't help himself. He joined her, elated at the sound of her infectious giggles. She hadn't broken down upon seeing it. She hadn't cried. She had simply thrown it over the side of the balcony and that was that.
"Oh!" she said, still laughing. "That felt so good! So, so good!"
Troy walked over and looked over the side of the balcony, down to where the box lay overturned. "I can't believe you just did that."
"I'm kind of destructive with his things, I don't know if you remember," she said with a smile, coming to stand beside him. "My god, Troy Bolton," she said, hugging him again, "You given me a home and a bit of closure all in one night. You are more than incredible."
"Would you stop saying that," Troy said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You're making me blush."
"That's fine by me," she said, lifting her head and inspecting the red flush across his cheeks. "You're adorable when you blush."
"Hey!" he said indignantly. "I am a man. I am not adorable."
She giggled and tapped him on the nose. "Oh, Troy Bolton, but you are." She stepped up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "And you're amazing. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."
Breaking away from him, she continued to explore the room, feeling giddy and elated. She flipped open the lid of her laptop and smiled when it came out of sleep mode and she quickly accessed her playlist. She couldn't believe he had done all this. Swiping at the tears that still lingered on her cheeks, she skimmed at the songs, searching for the perfect one. Finally, she found it and clicked play, turning to him and smiling as the soft melody and lyrics spilled into the room.
"You've always been bashful, you're just that way, but your eyes are like billboards; they give you away," the female voice sang softly and Gabriella laughed inwardly. The lyrics fit Troy to a tee. Glancing over him, she saw him shift almost awkwardly, giving her a nervous smile and her heart tripped over itself at the sight.
God, she just wanted to be close to him right now. She just wanted to hold him and kiss him and tell him everything she had been feeling in the last few days, everything she had been feeling in the last few minutes when he presented her with the room. How could he have gone to so much trouble for her? "Dance with me," she said softly, extending her hand to him. Looking at her, he felt a jolt run through him, the memory of when she had said the same thing to Edward all those years ago. He shook his head.
"I don't dance, Gabriella," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
She laughed. "Oh, come on, everyone dances!" she reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to her. A soft magenta blush was pooling on her eyes and her brown eyes were dancing. How could he deny her.
"I'm not kidding, though," he insisted, looking down at his feet. "I'm really, really uncoordinated."
She stepped even closer, removing the gap between them. "We're not going to waltz or anything Troy. All you have to do," she said slowly, bringing his hands to rest on her waist, "is hold me."
She brought her hands up to rest around his neck and she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. His hands moved tentatively around her waist, moving to grip her hips and pull her even closer against him. She fit so perfectly against him.
"And your chest's a fine pillow with lining of feather. Your hair is a family whose strands stick together. Your fingers are keys from the grandest piano played by a mind that the Lord only knows."
"Now what?" he asked hesitantly and carefully, slowly, she began to sway, moving him along with her.
"Now nothing," she whispered. "Now we just dance."
It was exactly the same as when she danced with Edward yet completely different. They had spoken the same dialogue, but everything was so much more intense. She felt her heart beat against her ribcage in excited anticipation and his fingers were burning through her clothes onto her skin. She felt so warm, safe and comfortable. Troy had been invoking these feelings into her for weeks now. This feeling that she felt like she was floating and was never going to touch the ground again, yet she was perfectly fine with it.
She relaxed in his hold as they swayed gently in a circle. He wasn't kidding; he was a terribly dancer, eyes falling to his feet every other second to make sure that he wasn't stepping on her toes. But he held her against him so gently and yet so tightly that it didn't matter. His familiar scent of sandalwood clung to him and she let her hand trail up to touch the strands of soft hair at the back of his neck. God, he was wonderful.
"I've gotta admit," he said softly, his head buried into her hair, "I've never done his before."
"Done what?" she whispered against his shoulder, feeling her eyes slip closed as the music played on. "Danced spontaneously?"
He chuckled and she felt the vibrations of his laugh against her cheek. "Well, yes," he paused, "But...I don't know. I feel like a teenager right now."
She smiled. "I know the feeling," she lifted her head off of his shoulder then and looked up at him, startled when she saw the look in his eyes.
Something in the air crackled between them, then. Something snapped. It was subtle, but it was there and there was no doubt in her mind that they had both felt it. Troy's thumbs drew lazy circles on her hips and she caressed the smooth skin on his neck. His eyes were hazy, glossed over with happiness and something else and his lips were upturned in a soft smile.
"See?" she said, playing with the strands of hair at the back of his neck. "This isn't so bad."
"With you, it most certainly isn't," he responded and his eyes connected with hers. She felt her mouth grow dry at the look in them.
It was there, the same feeling she had been harboring for him. It wasn't just lying beneath the surface of his eyes anymore, it was dancing on the tops, skimming through the irises and . He felt the same way. She had known it for a while now, she realized, but she had never really paid attention to it. now that she was, she felt her heart flutter at the notion.
What was going to happen now? Would he confess? Should she? Words tumbled over each other in her mind as she tried desperately to string a sentence together that would explain everything she was feeling, but her tongue felt numb and twisted.
Then his lips captured hers in a sweet kiss and her mind went blank.
Shock absorbed her body as his lips moved against hers. It was soft, slow, brief and gentle, everything you could possibly want in a first kiss. She felt her heart skip nearly a hundred beats and flutter rapidly He pulled back slowly, opening his eyes carefully to gauge her reaction. Maybe he had overstepped his bounds, maybe he had read her wrong. But the hand still playing with the back of his hair and the way her eyes were shining up at him told him otherwise, and he swept down once more and pressed his lips to hers again.
This time it was more heated, their lips gliding across one another's vigorously. For Gabriella, it was letting herself fall harder than she had anticipated. For Troy, it was what he had wanted for nearly three years.
He pecked her lips three times gently before leaning down and burying his face in her neck. She let her arms fall down to his waist and she hugged him tightly, resting her cheek against his shoulder.
"Does this mean you won't move out?" he asked quietly, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Is this enough for you to stay?"
She lifted her head as he lifted his and she brought a hand to his cheek, running her fingers over his features gently. As hard as she tried to hold them back, tears pricked her eyes as she smiled.
"It's more than enough, Troy," she whispered as he leaned into her touch. "It's everything."
With those words he grinned brightly and picked her up, swinging her around in small circles as he laughed. "Oh god," he murmured as he set her down. He pressed his lips to her cheeks, her forehead, her jaw and nose, unable to comprehend that this was actually happening. "I can't believe this. You have no idea how happy you've made me."
She laughed with him, closing her eyes and pressing her lips against his once again. She felt his tongue gently graze her lips and she granted him entrance, savoring his sweet taste. After several moments, he pulled back and grinned at her, running his hand over his head and yanking off his beanie.
"What are you—" Gabriella began, but before she could finish her question, Troy had taken his beanie and pulled it over her head, covering her eyes. She sputtered and lifted it so she could see. The sight that greeted her made her heart flip; Troy laughing and smiling, eyes shimmering with mirth. He leaned forward and kissed her on the nose, making his way down to her lips.
"I always thought my hat would look better on you."
--
Oh, happy days~ Fun times are ahead for the next couple of chapters! :D
There's not one, but two tracks for this chapter. One from Troy's perspective and the song they dance to. I have listened to both such a ridiculous amount of times that I will be fifty-nine and iPods will no longer exist and I will hear them on some high-tech radio during retro hour and still think of this fic.
I always think I'll never make word count. And then I exceed it. Oh, life.