A/N:

Hi! Firstly thanks so much for the support. I promise ill get to everybody's requests soon! While I am in the process of writing those, I figured I could share an old AU drabble I wrote a while ago. Thanks again! Hope you enjoy.

(also this may appear OOC, as it follows my headcanons that they go through a couple breaks before ending up together, please bare with me!)

Characters/ship : Phineas Flynn / Isabella Garcia-Shapiro

Rating: T

the doorbell rings at just a little before midnight.

11:47 p.m. to be exact, if the cheap black alarm clock that was already there when isabella first rented out the apartment is displaying the correct time. she's not exactly sure what to do, so she stares at the red pixels swimming across the screen, waits until the last digit slides to 8 before she lets out a breath she doesn't know she was holding.

but when it rings again, the very imminent reality of the situation starts to hit her. who the hell is coming to visit her this late at night? her mind races to fill in the potential possibilities as she desperately goes through her list of friends, though she sputters to a halt when the doorbell echoes a third time. isabella isn't sure if it's the lack of sleep getting to her, but the last ring sounded almost disappointed. dejected and desolate, and when she closes her eyes, she imagines the person behind the door turning to leave.

heart pounding and with a small voice in her head telling her no, isabella flings the tangled sheets around her legs off of her and scrambles to the door, pressing her eye to the peephole.

she wishes she didn't.

because she doesn't expect to see him. not him, with his hands clasped awkwardly in front of his shirt, not him, with his already messy red hair even more tousled from the midnight wind, not him, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth, not him, with that same, brooding, slightly nervous, slightly confident face. not him.

and she definitely doesn't expect herself to let him in anyway.

the moment isabella pulls open the door, phineas staggers back a little, and she hates it because she sees his little shocked expression, that little dorky, clumsy smile flicker back up on his lips again. that same stupid smile she fell for in the first place, and she feels herself sinking all over again. in only the span of a few seconds, isabella's suddenly remembering how he first introduced himself to her when they were just kids, how he told her that he thought her bow was super cool. she remembers how he walked her back to her house, how his shoes were slightly too big for his feet making him trip every so often, how insanely awkward but insanely sweet his jokes were. and, from that point on, it was history. phineas and isabella, the power couple, the dream team-

she stops herself short before tears begin to prick her eyes. it's not helping that the wind is now sweeping his hair back and forth, rendering it all askew. isabella remembers when she used to sift her fingers through his hair as phineas lay on her lap. she quickly forces that memory aside too.

and yet. and yet he's obviously surprised, that much isabella can tell, from the way his cheeks flush rosy and his fists cram into his coat pockets. and he's obviously nostalgic, she notes, as she watches phineas's eyes flit to hers, drinking her in as if he's trying to memorize every angle, every curve of her face. isabella ignores another little voice in her head telling her that he already has it memorized. she closes her eyes and recalls the multiple times he'd trace his fingertips over her nose and kiss down the bridge of it when she insisted she hated it.

she's not sure what to expect. but she does feel her heart sink when he opens his mouth.

"i didn't…" the awkward, dorky, somehow charismatic chuckle isabella knows all too well tumbles out of phineas's lips, "i didn't expect you to open the door." when he sees isabella's expression - which must be shell-shocked, she's sure - he continues hastily. "not that i'm complaining, of course."

they stare at each other for a while more, and isabella hates how phineas's still just staring at her, pulling her into his memory once again, taking in every part of her. she hates how he's fidgeting and nervous and looking at her all lopsided and slightly dreamy-eyed and god. god, what she wouldn't do to take him back home in her heart.

but she doesn't show this, just examines the hem of her fraying t-shirt and finally says what she should have said long ago. "what are you doing here?"

phineas laughs again, except this time, instead of the familiar chuckle, it's a too loud, too false happy, too inauthentic one that she doesn't want to hear ever again. "i should've just explained that right away, huh? i just…" he pauses, tugging at his ear- a mannerism that isabella knows all too well. "i just was…it was late at night, and i came across photos of that haunted house I made for you, and i was just thinking…i…i just thought-" phineas pauses, then smiles, this time genuinely again. "i sound dumb, don't i?"

isabella doesn't crack a smile, but she knows her eyes must be crinkling the tiniest bit. she runs a hand over her face, hoping that she comes across as exasperated and not like she's actually just furtively snagging a chance to recollect herself. "yeah, you do," she snaps. "what's your point?"

it sounds harsh, even to her. she watches her ex-boyfriend recoil the tiniest bit, looking hurt but not shocked, and for a second, isabella feels bad. but then she forces herself to stop mid-thought. she wasn't the one who left him because inventing was becoming too important. she wasn't the one who felt that she had to focus on her career more than him. she wasn't the one who said, "i'm sorry, but i think we're at different points of our lives. i'm not sure if our relationship is working out." she wasn't the one who-

"i'm saying that i miss you."

a beat of silence. it lingers for a couple more seconds, and again, again, again. they're both just looking at each other again, the slightly ajar door sending cold wind whipping into the tiny apartment. "isabella," phineas starts. he's chewing the inside of his cheek, the endearing, dorky facade suddenly unraveling loose to reveal the confused, true boy underneath. the confused, true boy who'd have enough heart to knock at his ex-girlfriend's door at midnight. "isabella, i miss you, i'm just…don't you know that i regret losing what we had? what we've always had? ever since we were kids, i just-" he cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh while he gestures at the air, as if what they supposedly "had" is floating in the atmosphere around them. "isabella, don't you know…?" she waits for him to continue his sentence, but he just stops there. then repeats. "isabella, don't you know?"

isabella bites her lip and turns away, feeling anger ebbing out of her lips. but even so, she catches herself staring at the undone button at the collar of his shirt. "i think it's too late for you to say that," she whispers.

"it's not," he says. and he sounds desperate. she doesn't even notice he's stepping closer towards her, doesn't even notice until he shakily takes her hand and guides it to his own cheek. she's surprised that she's letting him. "isabella…isabella, give me tonight. give me tonight, and i'll give you back our forever."

when he bends down to tentatively bury his face in her neck, she's startled to feel that he's not already marking her with love bites. he's not kissing her. just breathing in her scent, inhaling the mild aroma of her skin before brushing his lips ever so gently against it. she lets out a sigh, another breath she didn't know she was holding. and when he ever so hesitantly slides his finger under her chin to tilt her head up to graze her lips with his, she doesn't stop him.

"i'm over you," isabella starts, too dazed to finish her sentence, but she forces herself to push on, "and you're over me, so the fact that we're kissing right now means nothing." she sighs again, feeling herself entangle her hands into his hair. "but please don't stop."

isabella expects phineas to lift up her shirt, pull up the hem of that frayed top to feel her stomach underneath, but he doesn't. just smiles, squeezes her hand, leads her onto the couch. not to kiss her body and whisper empty nothings, but to just stare at her. look at her. tell her he's sorry. "i won't stop," he mumbles, putting his face into her neck once again, "but, god, Isabella." She feels him sigh against her skin "god, i was never over you."