She hadn't just done what she thought she did. Or did she?
The two red roses still held tight within his hand, the valentine laying on the end table, they were all still there, weren't they? She wanted to check, but... she didn't want to leave this wonderful place.
It was just a few moments ago when she slipped. When he handed her the card, and smiled on her with that smile of his, the one that melted her heart. She didn't want to relive the memory, just the feeling of absolute joy when she felt she could finally confess. To reform the words she whispered to the world, that was her dream.
She could hear the phrase all over again, experience the warmth circulating through her whole being. Those tiny words echoed inside her head. She had finally said it: "James, I love you."
And now she was here. Here in his embrace. They were propped up against the headboard of the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She tried to shift herself just a bit, but he wouldn't let the pressure of his grasp fade. *It's not suffocating*, she thought, *but it's just enough. Almost like I'm... a doll. A beautiful porcelain doll in his arms.* She nuzzled closer to him.
He ran his fingers through her hair. "Jessica?"
Her real name seemed foreign to her, but the way he said it, so gentle and kind, made her want to respond, to give him any answer he wanted. "Yes?"
He pressed his lips to her forehead, the touch of velvet. She didn't even need to hear the breath floating past her ear to feel him completely. "I love you."
"You don't need to tell me things I already know," she said coyly with a smile. She could tell what she was doing: trying to make the line between love and friendship blur smoothly. All of the erasing and sketching and patience finally painted the brilliant masterpiece to full color for her.
A smirk spread along his face, and he ruffled her hair. "That's my Jessie."
*My Jessie. I'm his Jessie.* The tears welled in her eyes. She belonged to someone, to him. He would care for her, and love her, and be with her because he wanted to be. She put down her guard for one man, one moment, and it had somehow paid off. She didn't mind the sudden vulnerable feeling she had; after all, she was protected by his touch, by his arms around her. For once, it felt so right to be dependent on someone. She didn't quite understand it, how letting all of her weakest points show could cause this much contentment. Her heart didn't comprehend either, nor did it care.
She, after a bit of a struggle, was released from his embrace and sat up next to him. She took one of his hands and held it in her own. "So, what do we do now?"
"How about we just stay here forever?"
"I don't think that'll work, James."
"Well, we'll stay here until we're found then." He put his arm around her. "Does that sound like a good idea?"
"OK." She moved closer to him.
"Hey, Jess, what do you think Meowth will say when he finds us here?"
"He'll probably flip out."
"Because we're sitting on the bed?"
"No, because we've finally confessed. He's probably been watching, expecting us to for a while."
"That cat should get his own love life."
"Oh, well. Our romantic antics should be enough for him for now."
The door squeaked open. "Enough for who? What?"
Jessie and James, grinning from ear to ear, exchanged glances and stared at him. "Meowth," James started, "we have a little something to tell you..."
The two red roses still held tight within his hand, the valentine laying on the end table, they were all still there, weren't they? She wanted to check, but... she didn't want to leave this wonderful place.
It was just a few moments ago when she slipped. When he handed her the card, and smiled on her with that smile of his, the one that melted her heart. She didn't want to relive the memory, just the feeling of absolute joy when she felt she could finally confess. To reform the words she whispered to the world, that was her dream.
She could hear the phrase all over again, experience the warmth circulating through her whole being. Those tiny words echoed inside her head. She had finally said it: "James, I love you."
And now she was here. Here in his embrace. They were propped up against the headboard of the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around her. She tried to shift herself just a bit, but he wouldn't let the pressure of his grasp fade. *It's not suffocating*, she thought, *but it's just enough. Almost like I'm... a doll. A beautiful porcelain doll in his arms.* She nuzzled closer to him.
He ran his fingers through her hair. "Jessica?"
Her real name seemed foreign to her, but the way he said it, so gentle and kind, made her want to respond, to give him any answer he wanted. "Yes?"
He pressed his lips to her forehead, the touch of velvet. She didn't even need to hear the breath floating past her ear to feel him completely. "I love you."
"You don't need to tell me things I already know," she said coyly with a smile. She could tell what she was doing: trying to make the line between love and friendship blur smoothly. All of the erasing and sketching and patience finally painted the brilliant masterpiece to full color for her.
A smirk spread along his face, and he ruffled her hair. "That's my Jessie."
*My Jessie. I'm his Jessie.* The tears welled in her eyes. She belonged to someone, to him. He would care for her, and love her, and be with her because he wanted to be. She put down her guard for one man, one moment, and it had somehow paid off. She didn't mind the sudden vulnerable feeling she had; after all, she was protected by his touch, by his arms around her. For once, it felt so right to be dependent on someone. She didn't quite understand it, how letting all of her weakest points show could cause this much contentment. Her heart didn't comprehend either, nor did it care.
She, after a bit of a struggle, was released from his embrace and sat up next to him. She took one of his hands and held it in her own. "So, what do we do now?"
"How about we just stay here forever?"
"I don't think that'll work, James."
"Well, we'll stay here until we're found then." He put his arm around her. "Does that sound like a good idea?"
"OK." She moved closer to him.
"Hey, Jess, what do you think Meowth will say when he finds us here?"
"He'll probably flip out."
"Because we're sitting on the bed?"
"No, because we've finally confessed. He's probably been watching, expecting us to for a while."
"That cat should get his own love life."
"Oh, well. Our romantic antics should be enough for him for now."
The door squeaked open. "Enough for who? What?"
Jessie and James, grinning from ear to ear, exchanged glances and stared at him. "Meowth," James started, "we have a little something to tell you..."