· I do not own nor did I create any part of The OC whatsoever. None of the characters are my own, and I don't claim affiliation with the show or FOX in any way.
· It's up to you to decide who the 'her' is and who the 'her' is for the first few chapters.
uDenial/u
"Hey." His palms were sweaty and his breathing unsteady, anything but sure. He never was one to be sure of himself - that went with the territory of being confident, and Seth Cohen was anything but confident.
Her posture cloned his, shoulders slumped and hands wrung together. They were huddled in the corner of a dim room, the slight musk of smoke and alcohol amidst sweaty bodies surrounding them.
"Hi." Her eyes were fixed on a couple who were groping in a not so subtle fashion; as long as she could keep her eyes from being caught by his she could do this. She could act like he didn't matter. Really, she could.
"Listen, about the other night, I know it was weird for you and I jus-" Why did he have to be so sincere? He got this dimple below his left cheekbone when he was serious, and it seemed to intensify with apology. Her eyes were locked to it as he spoke, watching his lips move slowly, his eyes bled into hers. It was almost like she could feel his heart beating next to hers, even though she wasn't touching him, she could feel it.
"No, forget about it. Really. I mean, you obviously made your choice. I get it."
He nodded slowly, shrugging. "Yeah. I mean yeah, I guess I have."
Right. He had made his choice. The all too surreal situation of he - himself! Seth Cohen! being offered the choice of two beautiful, smart, complex women that he adored, and no matter the fact that he had royally screwed up the relationship that each of them shared with him, they still wanted him. And he had finally made the all-important decision. Was it Anna? His best friend, the sweet, dainty, witty blonde from Pittsburgh, the one who challenged him and surprised him, and related to him in ways no one else ever would? Or was it Summer? His childhood dream girl, the stunning, incomparable, sensitive, guarded brunette that inspired him, made him that rambling, flustered fool he had proven himself to be lately?
That very question had plagued him all month. Both had unexpectedly flung themselves at him, for loss of better words, and he was stuck with the colossal decision of who he wanted to be with, and who he wanted to heave aside for a rainy day. At least that's how it felt to him. I mean honestly, if you give yourself to someone whole heartedly only to be rejected, who's to say you'll be brave enough to stick around and pick up your friendship while they move on with someone else? This wasn't just a choice of who to date and who to be friends with, this was a decision of who to keep and who to leave behind. And granted, Seth Cohen was not the boy to be asked, but he jumped in headfirst and came out heart in hand. He thought about the situation, and as he rarely did, put himself first. Who would be best for Seth Cohen?
She would. Yeah, she would, right?
"Well, listen, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for being so cool about this. So. Thanks."
Why had she come to this ridiculous party in the first place? Some staged charity event which was honestly just another excuse to drink and dance while all the Newport parents lived their lives thinking that their superb children were congregating solely to raise money and benefit the poor, the homeless, the ill, whatever lost cause they had chosen for the current week. She knew why. She'd come to see him, just incase she was delirious and he hadn't actually chosen iher/i. You know, just incase he had shown up for the mere purpose of kissing her and sweeping her off of her feet just in time to ring in the New Year, to tell her that "sorry he had taken so long to see something that was right there in front of his face, but he had finally realized that she was all he had been looking for." Her. Of course.
Only he had come to apologize, quickly at that, and then run back to his date. With iher/i. What did he see in iher/i anyhow?
· It's up to you to decide who the 'her' is and who the 'her' is for the first few chapters.
uDenial/u
"Hey." His palms were sweaty and his breathing unsteady, anything but sure. He never was one to be sure of himself - that went with the territory of being confident, and Seth Cohen was anything but confident.
Her posture cloned his, shoulders slumped and hands wrung together. They were huddled in the corner of a dim room, the slight musk of smoke and alcohol amidst sweaty bodies surrounding them.
"Hi." Her eyes were fixed on a couple who were groping in a not so subtle fashion; as long as she could keep her eyes from being caught by his she could do this. She could act like he didn't matter. Really, she could.
"Listen, about the other night, I know it was weird for you and I jus-" Why did he have to be so sincere? He got this dimple below his left cheekbone when he was serious, and it seemed to intensify with apology. Her eyes were locked to it as he spoke, watching his lips move slowly, his eyes bled into hers. It was almost like she could feel his heart beating next to hers, even though she wasn't touching him, she could feel it.
"No, forget about it. Really. I mean, you obviously made your choice. I get it."
He nodded slowly, shrugging. "Yeah. I mean yeah, I guess I have."
Right. He had made his choice. The all too surreal situation of he - himself! Seth Cohen! being offered the choice of two beautiful, smart, complex women that he adored, and no matter the fact that he had royally screwed up the relationship that each of them shared with him, they still wanted him. And he had finally made the all-important decision. Was it Anna? His best friend, the sweet, dainty, witty blonde from Pittsburgh, the one who challenged him and surprised him, and related to him in ways no one else ever would? Or was it Summer? His childhood dream girl, the stunning, incomparable, sensitive, guarded brunette that inspired him, made him that rambling, flustered fool he had proven himself to be lately?
That very question had plagued him all month. Both had unexpectedly flung themselves at him, for loss of better words, and he was stuck with the colossal decision of who he wanted to be with, and who he wanted to heave aside for a rainy day. At least that's how it felt to him. I mean honestly, if you give yourself to someone whole heartedly only to be rejected, who's to say you'll be brave enough to stick around and pick up your friendship while they move on with someone else? This wasn't just a choice of who to date and who to be friends with, this was a decision of who to keep and who to leave behind. And granted, Seth Cohen was not the boy to be asked, but he jumped in headfirst and came out heart in hand. He thought about the situation, and as he rarely did, put himself first. Who would be best for Seth Cohen?
She would. Yeah, she would, right?
"Well, listen, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for being so cool about this. So. Thanks."
Why had she come to this ridiculous party in the first place? Some staged charity event which was honestly just another excuse to drink and dance while all the Newport parents lived their lives thinking that their superb children were congregating solely to raise money and benefit the poor, the homeless, the ill, whatever lost cause they had chosen for the current week. She knew why. She'd come to see him, just incase she was delirious and he hadn't actually chosen iher/i. You know, just incase he had shown up for the mere purpose of kissing her and sweeping her off of her feet just in time to ring in the New Year, to tell her that "sorry he had taken so long to see something that was right there in front of his face, but he had finally realized that she was all he had been looking for." Her. Of course.
Only he had come to apologize, quickly at that, and then run back to his date. With iher/i. What did he see in iher/i anyhow?