Disclaimer: Not mine!
A/N: Hello again... friend of a friend. No, sorry it took so long to upload but I have a pretty hectic lifestyle (which includes me watching movies on HBO and then falling asleep re-reading the HP's). Please review and favorite and etc. Love ya!
On February 1rst, I got a phone call from my mother. I examined my new phone for a while, searching for a button to show me how to answer it. Growing up, I only had 1 house phone and even then I barely used it. When Mother asked me if I want her old cell phone a week ago, I think it was rather pure curiosity than actual need that made me accept it. Finally when I found the answer button (green) my mother was in hysterics.
"Oh baby! Your father's dead. Heart attack during the night, they thought he was sleeping. There's no funeral. They already cremated him. Oh Gosh, baby, I'm so sorry," She said crying. I listened to her sobs for a few seconds when it hit me. My dad was dead. I felt no immediate sadness, as I knew I wouldn't. After finding out the truth about my dad, I had only been cursing him. Cursing the man for leaving and cursing him for not staying far enough away. Stan, however who had been listening in quite intently, came over to me and wrapped me into a hug. Mother was sobbing uncontrollably on the phone and Stan was rubbing patterns in my back. I hung up on my mother, not bothering to say goodbye, and pushed Stan away. Why did they expect me to be sad about someone like that? Shouldn't I be celebrating? I went onto the porch and sat on the porch swing. It swayed slightly under my weight. Maybe if I thought deeply about it, I would suddenly burst into tears. I watch as the snow fell, it was almost angelic, and it didn't match. I heard the front door open and where I expected Stan, I found Mum, looking at me sadly. She smiled weakly at me.
"Can I take this seat?" She asked me as she sat down beside me. We stayed silent for a while, rocking in time, when Mum spoke up. "Both of my parents died when I was 18, did you know that?" She asked. I shook my head, though I was lying. I had read it in Mr. Shunpike's diary. It said she had cried for weeks. Poor Mum "I didn't cry at first. I guess I was in shock. I worked, as I did back then in the Ministry, normally and no one knew, about their deaths that is. I would have thought someone would have heard and tell me how sorry they were, but murders were normal back then and I got no sympathy. I came home and had dinner with Greg, and everything was fine. I didn't tell anyone until a week later when it finally hit me. I never got to tell them goodbye." She stared deeply into the snow. She wasn't sitting with me anymore, now she was far away. She suddenly snapped back into reality. I remembered the last words I'd said to my father.
"I love you, goodbye." I spoke aloud. It sounded almost sincere when I said it now, not filled with the spite and hatred as it had before. I had been lucky, I had been able to say goodbye. Mum hadn't.
I lived in a daze almost. My father's death was just another blemish on my life, a tainted spot. I would get over it, I always did. I didn't cry. I refused to. Still Stan had the nerve to ask me if I was all right every few hours.
"If you ever need to talk you know where I am." He said sincerely after dinner. We had been so out of sync since my father's death. We couldn't have a normal conversation anymore. I would always end up angry and Stan confused. Didn't he understand the last thing I wanted to do was talk about it? I had no regrets about my father's death, we had been expecting it, I had said my goodbyes. But sometimes I wondered if I should have treated him differently. I realized then the reason why I felt no sadness was because a different emotion replaced it, anger.
"Are you doing anything tomorrow?" Mum said one night at dinner looking from Stan to me.
"I don't think so. Why?" I said and ate another bit of corn. I hated corn.
"It's Valentine's Day. I thought you two were going on a date?" Abby piped in. Abby, my best friend now, had been a constant talker. She didn't want me to talk and instead filled the silence with her own voice. Merlin bless her.
"Yeah, Brooke. Let's go on a date. We haven't been alone in a long time," He said, even now his devilish grin was strained.
"Fine," I said and truthfully I didn't care. The excitement that usually filled me was now gone. I had nothing left.
That night I cried, I cried hard. Tears streamed down my face and I was screaming in rage. It contradicted all of my arguments where I had stood my ground that I was an independent woman and didn't need to break down every other second. I felt stupid and exposed as the tears came from an unknown source. I cursed whom ever it was who gave me tear ducts. Stan stood awkwardly to the side, I had yelled at him to stay away every other time we talked and now he didn't know what to do.
"Can you leave me alone?" I gulped in between sobs, "Sleep downstairs tonight, please," I begged as tears pricked at my eyes again. Stan nodded unwillingly, grabbed a pillow and blanket and headed out the door. I didn't know how it started. I had been doing nothing, sitting on the bed, when Stan came in with a smile, ready to pull me close and go to bed when I caught sight of the journal Stan's father had written on the desk. My father never wrote a journal. I would never figure out what he was thinking. He would always forever be the cruel man who acted as a sperm bank to me. He had probably felt no regret for his actions and if he had I would never know it. I fell asleep on the bed from exhaustion. The pillow was wet, either from tears or slobber I would never figure out when I awoke. I sat up slowly and my eyes were swollen. I cursed myself. I hated crying for something so stupid. I was so stupid. I prayed though. I prayed that now that I had cried that I would be able to return to normal. I wanted to be out of this funk. I wanted to hug Stan and feel a blush rise to my cheeks. I wanted to be able to smile truthfully at Mum. I got dressed quickly. A date with Stan, a normal date would be good. I tried to smile and ran downstairs to Stan who was still asleep on the couch. His hair was standing up as if he'd been running his hands through it. I poked him. Normal, I thought, act normal. He jerked awake and looked at me. I knelt down near his face.
"Hey," He said groggily. He touched my cheek and I begged my heart to speed up. It did thankfully.
"Hey," I whispered back. "You ready? I was thinking we'd-" But he interrupted me. Apparently my forced conversation had set him back to his original clock.
"I got you a present," He said and smiled, a real smile this time. "I didn't know if you'd want it though since…" He trailed off and looked at me again. He hopped up and we headed upstairs together. He grabbed my hand and I gasped in shock. We rarely touched in the past two weeks. Even sleeping in the same bed we managed to keep our space. I blushed; I felt it rise up in my cheeks. I smiled and squealed with glee. I should cry more often, I thought, it's so much simpler. Stan smiled again. I loved him. I knew it for the first time in weeks. I knew it. Things may be awkward right now but in the end I loved him. We reached the room and Stan dropped to the ground and searched around under the bed.
"I guess I need a new spot to put my tampons," I said smiling at Stan as he felt around under the bed.
"And your diary," He smiled and it was devilish. Not a hint of strain, just pure Stan. "Here!" He said at last and pulled out a small package. My hands instinctively wrapped around my necklace. I hadn't taken it off since Stan had given it to me on Christmas Eve, except for showers. Lately it had been a deep blue but now it had returned to it's usual light pink. Stan wrapped his arms around my shoulder and pulled me down to sit on the bed with him. He slipped me the pink wrapped package. I tore it open and saw a small vial of perfume. "It changes to the owner's favorite scent," He said. I laughed.
"Isn't that just the easy way out? You couldn't just figure out what my favorite scent was, you had to buy me a special perfume," I said in a strained joke. Had I taken it to far? But no, Stan seemed oblivious to my discomfort and roared into a laugh I hadn't heard for weeks.
"Put it on," He urged and I opened the bottle. It was a clear container filled with what looked like water, somewhat reminding me of Veritaserum. The moment I opened the bottle the clear water changed to a deep red, just a shade off of blood. I raised it to my nose and sniffed, cinnamon. I laughed and put some on my wrists. I waved it in front of Stan and he held a confused expression.
"Cinnamon? Why cinnamon?" He asked and I laughed again, freely.
"That's what you smell like," I answered and went to the closet to pick out my clothes for the day.
We arrived at a muggle movie theater and I sighed. Stan had always wanted to go to one before we just never had time.
"I'm picking where we're going on the next date!" I said and sighed. We got in line behind a gaggle of people. Eventually we reached the front. Stan had stayed silent and gazed around at the gaudy carpeted walls and huge posters advertising new movies. I looked over the movie list set on an action flick Mother and I had briefly talked about. We bought our tickets, Stan still carried around muggle money thank God, and we headed towards out theater.
"You just get to go in? What if someone goes into the wrong movie?" He said excitedly.
"Some people do," I said as he opened the door for me. Secretly I was glad Stan had picked a movie, we wouldn't have to talk much. We opened the door to a near deserted movie theater. Only one employee cleaning aisles was in there besides us. He hurried out as he caught sight of us quickly and Stan let out a howl of laughter.
"Guess we've got the whole place to ourselves! Now we snog and talk loudly. Pull out your tellyphone, I hear they hate it when you do that," He said smiling and I couldn't help but give a chuckle. I had always wanted to go to a deserted movie too. The movie started soon after, Stan and I in the best spot in theater. I downed most of the popcorn during the previews but pulled out my wand a muttered a Refilling Charm. It wasn't really stealing, was it? Half way through the last advertisement a family came in. A mother, father and 3 young children all gathered in the row directly in front of us.
"Well there goes my plans," Muttered Stan said and I couldn't help but let out a giggle. I grabbed his hand, which lay unprotected on armrest. He gave my hand a squeeze and we watched the movie in silence.
The credits rolled and I quickly took my head off of Stan's shoulder. The lights turned back on and I saw Stan's eyes were closed. He had fallen asleep. I laughed and thought of my own experience at my first movie. I begged my mother for hours to take me to see a new Disney movie and ten minutes into the movie I had fallen asleep.
"Stan," I said poking his shoulder. Then a thought struck me. If I kissed him now I would definitely be able to handle it later on. I heard the door slam as the other family left the theater. Good riddance. I pursed my lips and leaned down to touch Stan's own vunerable ones. Instead of it making me feel less nervous, my palms broke out into a sweat. What if he wanted to kiss me again at the end of the night? My eyes glazed with the thought and I let out an involuntary giggle. I missed the feelings of Stan's body pressing into mine at night; I missed being able to kiss him without notice. I sighed and poked Stan again. He awoke with a start and looked around in confusion. He groaned when he realized what had happened.
"When'd you fall asleep?" I asked him dreamily. His lips answered but I couldn't hear him. They moved again and I was suddenly aware I was noticeably staring at Stan's lips. I jerked my eyes to his and my heart skipped a beat. He was staring at me as I had been with him, only looking at my lips. "Kiss me, please," I whispered as he lurched forward. Our lips met hungrily. After not touching for weeks we seemed to be making up for it.
"I missed you so much," He said as we took breaths. I pressed my lips against his once again thinking about what he said. I hadn't gone away, I had been next to him the entire time yet still he missed me. I missed him too. How strange.
"Ma'am, sir, we need you to clear out. The next show will start soon," said a voice faraway. I broke away from Stan, who was looking as discombobulated as me. We turned towards the sound and there stood one of the movie theater's employees; he looked awkward and shifted his feet uncomfortably. I was so out of it, I didn't even blush. Stan and I walked out of the movie theater hand in hand. We reached the alley where we had appeared in. Stan was immediately all over me, kissing my lips, running his hands up and down my back. He tentatively put his hands under my shirt, tracing his hands on my stomach. I couldn't help but gasp into Stan's mouth as he reached higher and grabbed onto my breasts. I pulled away awkwardly and he frowned.
"Sorry," He mumbled and grabbed at my hand. My face blushed a deep red when we reappeared with a pop. I looked around as my eyes adjusted to the new lighting opposed to the darkness of the covered alleyway. Stan gripped my hand tighter and I looked over at him, he was smiling again. "I know you've always wanted to go again," He said, obviously proud of himself. I looked in front of me and there it was.
"The park!" I screamed at ran across the pea gravel to the swing. We had sat there on so many summers for so many nights. I giggled like schoolgirl. "I'll race you!" I said with a grin and took off in a sprint towards the slide. Stan's smiled wider, if possible, and chased after me. He caught up to me in seconds and pulled me off the ground and into a hug. He kissed my cheek and set me down. "I love you," I said smiling as it slipped out. My expression changed immediately to one of shock. I put a hand in front of my mouth. I can't believe how stupid I was! How could I have let something so important come out? I didn't dare look at Stan; the tears blocked my vision anyway. I was so happy how things were and now I've gone and screwed things up. I always screwed things up.
"No you don't," Stan said and I realized I spoke these words aloud. I closed my eyes shut tight. It was just a nightmare, just a nightmare. I squeezed my eyes even tighter, so tight that stars had begun to form in front of me. "Brooke," said in a stressed tone. My eyes immediately popped open and I looked at him. "Why do you always do that?" He said with a serious tone, something Stan rarely used. I just stared at him. What? I always tell people I love them? "Why do you always think the worst of me, of everyone for that matter? Did it ever cross your mind that I might love you too?" He waved his arms as he talked, giving me yet another distraction to not look in his face. My mouth fell open, my jaw making a faint clicking sound as I opened and shut it several times in succession. Hr couldn't be serious? Stan loved me? Then again, he hadn't said it. All he'd said was- "Stop it, I can read you like a book. I said it and I'll say it again. Over and over, it doesn't matter, as many times as it takes to get you to understand." He said exasperatedly. I gasped at him. Surely he didn't mean- "Brooke, I love you. I've loved you since you arrived on the Knight Bus some 9 years ago. I love you." He said these words delicately as if walking on eggshells. I jumped into his arms some few seconds later when his words finally settled in. He loves me! And for some kooky reason, I believed him. We held each other for some time, comfortable in each other's arms. I knew I was home as he shifted slightly to pull me in even closer. I felt his breath on my head. My head was spinning still long after we had apparated home. I looked up from the dinner table later that even and caught Stan staring at me. I winked and he returned to his corn. Even now the yellow bane of my existence seemed all right. If Stan made corn look good he really must be doing things to me. The words fell into my head as easily as they had when 'I love you' had first become a ritual mantra in my brain, 'He's The One.'