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mysweetgeo · 3 years

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Do You Want To Know a Secret ? (Part 4)

Summary: Reader and George have been best friends since they were kids, but when The Beatles got big, they were forced apart. What happens when George returns for a couple weeks wanting their friendship to return to normal?

You didn’t hear from George until the next day, when the call came through just after noon you’d all but jumped to answer it the second it rang.

You cleared your throat before answering, “Hello, (Y/N) speaking.”

“Well hello my love, how is today treatin’ you?” His accent thick and full.

You smiled, “Fair, but much better now,” you answered honestly.

You could hear his smile in his voice as he answered, “Well that’s wonderful to hear, fancy a trip to the pub tonight? John invited me and I’d like it if you’d accompany me.”

“Hm, seeing as I don’t have to work tomorrow that sounds quite lovely,” you replied, twirling the phone cord around your finger. “What time should I meet you there?”

George scoffed, “As if I’d make you drive yourself to the pub,” he muttered. “I’ll pick you up at eight, does that fit into your busy schedule?” He asked, mocking the words you’d said to him just the other day.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine. But next time we go out I’m driving—and paying!”

He laughed, “Fine, fine! It’s a deal, as long as I get to see you again,” he said sweetly, a smile forming on your lips.

It was quiet for a few moments before you spoke again, “I’ll see you at eight then?”

“Eight o’clock, sharp,” he confirmed.

“It’s a date then,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“It’s a date,” he repeated before you hung up.

When George knocked on your door at eight o’clock (sharp) you’d been waiting his arrival, ready to open the door the moment he knocked.

He grinned when he saw you, giving your simple outfit a look over.

You wore a pair of high waisted denim bell bottoms with a pair of chunky orange heels. he laughed when he saw your shirt, a Beatles tee you’d found at a local shop when you’d been out and about a few weeks ago.

“Where on Earth did you find that?” George asks, leaning in close to observe your shirt.

“Found it at one of the shops in town, d’ya like it?” You ask with a proud grin.

“I look like rubbish,” he mumbles, running his fingers over his own face on the fabric.

“You do not, George,” you say, swatting his hand away from your top. “You ready to go?” You ask.

He nods and holds the door open for you and the two of you walk to his car.

You ride to the pub in a comfortable silence, completely content just being in each other’s presence.

When you arrive at the pub, George opens your door for you and offers you his arm, which you gladly accept.

You walk into the pub, immediately finding John in a corner booth, with an arm around Cynthia who is sitting beside him.

When John sees you, his face breaks into a massive grin, “George! You brought your girl!”

You blush and squeeze George’s arm a bit, looking at the other couple, “Nice to see you again, John,” you mumble, slightly embarrassed.

Cynthia stands to pull you into a hug, which you gladly accept. You’d missed her almost as much as you’d missed George.

You and George sit across from John and Cynthia, George’s arm slung around your shoulders as John tells you about the crazy things they’d done while on tour.

By the end of the story you’d been clutching your stomach, doubled over in laughter while George sat, his face red with embarrassment.

You were now a few pints in, feeling warm and light—like you were floating.

“Why didn’t you tell me about that Georgie?” You whined, gripping his thigh so that he would look you in the eye.

He shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d wanna hear about all the silly things I’d done,” he replied.

Your jaw dropped, “Well of course I do! I can’t keep pickin’ on ya if its the same four stories from when we were kids!” You said loudly.

“John!” You yelled, reaching over to grab his arm, “You have to tell me all the silly things he’s done!” you slurred.

John laughed, completely knackered, “When we were in Hamburg, George had a girl in the hotel room—while we were all in there!” John said loudly, his head rolling back with a snort.

You felt your heart drop, and suddenly you weren’t in a laughing mood anymore. You scooted yourself away from him, a small movement that John didn’t notice, but Cynthia and George did.

You glanced at George out of the corner of your eye after you’d moved to see him staring back at you, almost like he was apologizing.

You didn’t know why you felt so upset, you couldn’t possibly be upset with George for sleeping with someone when you’d done the same with many guys. After all it’d been nearly two years, you couldn’t expect him to wait for you when he didn’t even know how you felt about him—you didn’t even know how you felt about him.

John was still laughing, not noticing the mood change, when he slapped the table, snapping you and George out of your trance.

“I need another pint!” He slurred, pounding the table.

You nodded agreeing with him, “Me too,” you mumbled, just loud enough so that George could hear you.

Three more pints down and you’d completely forgotten what you were so upset over. You were practically attached to George, clinging affectionately to his arm.

You were sipping your next pint, your arm looped in George’s as he watched you.

“(Y/N) how’d you meet George again?” Cynthia asked, yelling over the other voices in the pub.

“Oh! I love this story!” You squealed, “We met when we were just itty bitty little kids,” you said fondly with a smile.

George laughed at your expression as you rested your head on his shoulder, smiling proudly.

“I was five and George was six!” You exclaimed, “He tried to kiss me on the playground and I pushed him in the dirt!”

“Hey! That’s not what happened!” George interrupted after taking a large gulp of his pint.

You turned to him, a grin spread across your face, “Really? Then how do you think it happened?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

George’s eyes bore into your, like dark brown pools. “I wanted to hold your hand, is that such a crime! ‘Was just a boy who fancied a girl,” he said matter-of-factly.

“You fancied me?” You asked, teasing him and poking his nose.

“What? No—I just meant—I—“ He stumbled over his words.

You giggled, “Sounds like you fancied me, Geo!” you teased, nudging his side with your arm.

He rolled his eyes and pushed your arms away from him, “Stop that!” he yelped.

You let out a hearty laugh, “Oh c’mon, George! ‘m only teasin’!”

“Mhm, sure you are,” he mumbled, finishing the rest of his beer.

You grinned, finishing yours as well, feeling warm and fuzzy. “I wanna do shots!” you exclaimed.

John gasped, “Shots!” he yelled, the two of you unable to sit still at the thought.

John flagged the waitress down, getting her to bring your table a whole mess of shots.

You turned to George, a crooked smile on your face, “You gonna do shots too, Georgie?” you asked, tugging at his arm to try and get him to agree.

He rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his face, “I suppose I can do a few,” he answers, which made you squeal in excitement.

John, George, and yourself split the shots amongst the three of you—Cynthia decided against them (probably for the best).

The shots felt endless, and soon you were slurring your words and clinging to George’s arm just to keep the room from spinning.

George was feeling just about the same way, the two of you laughing at something John had said—which neither of you could remember.

Eventually Cynthia dragged a heavily intoxicated John out of the bar, bidding a goodnight to you and George.

George paid your tab, wrapping an arm tight around your waist as the two if you walked out.

The waitress had hailed a cab for you—which you were thankful for because you couldn’t think straight.

You sat practically on top of one another in the back of the cab, staring into each others eyes, trying (and failing) to contain flirtatious smiles.

When the cabbie had dropped you off at your house. you and George climbed out of the cab after paying, immediately going up to your room.

You immediately went to put some music on, putting the Please Please Me vinyl on the turntable, skipping to your favourite song, secretly hoping George would sing it to you.

George grinned when you both heard the familiar chords begin.

You’ll never know how much I really love you

You’ll never know how much I really care

He pulled you close to him, leaving barely enough room to breathe, and began to sway you back and forth.

“Listen,” he sang softly in your ear, “Do you want to know a secret?”

“Do you promise not to tell?” You nodded enthusiastically, your body jittering with excitement.

“Oh, closer,” you felt yourself pressing yourself closer to him, aching for him to tell you.

“Let me whisper in your ear,” he murmured breathlessly in your ear, “say the words you long to hear.”

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered softly, kissing your neck.

You sighed in content, allowing him to attack your neck and jaw with kisses.

“Oh, George,” you murmured.

George’s lips moved to your cheek, progressively moving towards your mouth.

You whined in protest when he pulled away, “Can I kiss you?” he murmured.

All you could do was nod, your body aching for his touch, your lips yearning for reciprocation.

You looked into each other’s eyes before George pressed his lips against yours, and the world stopped.

Your body lighting on fire, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

The two of you fell on your bed, George straddling you, kissing you with a patience that did not exist.

You moaned into his mouth, enjoying every second of the kiss, not knowing when it would end.

George brought his hand up to caress your face lovingly, as your tongues danced in each others mouths.

He kissed you with a hunger you’d never experienced, like he thought you’d vanish at any moment.

The kiss felt like you’d been making up for a lifetime of repressed feelings and longing stares.

Too soon you both ran out of air, panting as you pulled away, looking at each other with pure love.

His lips were a deep red colour, swollen from the kiss. you could only imagine yours were in a similar state.

You ran your hands through his hair as you caught your breath, your thumbs caressing his cheeks, running along his sharp jaw bone.

He smiled sleepily, the movements of your hands relaxing him.

His tired eyes met yours, “I love you,” he said in the happiest voice.

Your heart swelled as you held his face in your hands, “I love you, George.”

He dipped his head to give you a quick kiss before his body weight dropped on top of you.

You groaned, “George,” you tried to push him off of you but there was no way to move him, he was already snoring softly into your neck.

You continued to run your hands through his hair, admiring him and soaking in every detail of the moment that you likely wouldn’t remember.

Deep down you knew that was for the best, you’d just gotten George back and you didn’t want to lose him again—especially when these feelings were involved.

His arms formed a tight cocoon around you and he sighed into your neck, completely content.

You smiled sleepily at his state, leaving your hands in his hair as you closed your eyes, letting yourself drift off to sleep.

#george harrison #the beatles #love #beatles x reader #1964 #george #george harrison fic #george harrison x reader #john lennon #music #ringo starr #paul mccartney

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Tale As Old As Time

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Part Nine Part Ten

Summary: The Yule Ball is finally here and maybe just once you get to be the princess in a fairy tale.

A/N: Guys, guys, this chapter IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND I’M ASDKJDADGAD anyway. Hello to those of you who are new! I love you all so much (and if anyone would like context or a visual for this chapter see Cinderella or ya know your favorite Disney princess dance sequence... there are so many) I love you all! Please let me know what you think! Also catch this on AO3 soon!!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @littlethingsinmymindla

Christmas Eve and it seemed like the week had passed faster than the week before. Between finding a last-minute present—and a letter to Mrs. Weasley to see if a miracle could really happen—and wrapping the ones I already had, I was exhausted come Christmas Eve, so I did what I did every year: I read a book.

“So, do you have a dress for the Ball?” Hermione asked as we lounged in the Common Room watching the boys play chess.

“Yeah, my mother sent me one, it was the parcel I got the other morning,” I noted, my eyes not leaving my book—A Christmas Carol.

It was the evening before the Ball as well, and we were enjoying the buzz of the common room as Christmas approaching in the morning had everyone in a stupor. I had seen Draco at dinner, but Hermione stole me back for the evening, well, she tried.

Penelope swooped in and a letter landed in my lap.

“Oh, come on, I just got you back in here,” Hermione groaned. “Doesn’t he have his own party at Slytherin?”

“Maybe he’s invited her. I’ve heard so much about how good Slytherin parties are,” Ron looked up hopefully.

I smiled and rolled my eyes, breaking the seal and opening the letter.

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower as soon as you can, dress warm.

Draco

Three pairs of eyes were on me.

“I... have to go?” I offered sheepishly.

“A party?” Ron asked.

“No, just... never mind. It’s not a party.” I shrugged as I got up and stretched.

Grabbing my winter boots, scarf and fur lined jacket—that my mother also sent—I headed own the drafty halls and up to the Astronomy Tower.

“Draco?” I called as I reached the top step. He turned, a smile making its way to his face.

“Hey,” He helped me up the stair, taking my gloved hand in his. “These are new?” He mused, eyeing the black leather fur lined gloves.

“Mother sent them; someone must have told her that I was cold.” I gave him a side eyed look. He chuckled and pulled me close

“So, the ball is tomorrow,” He began

“Yes, that is how time works,” I mused. “I believe it is Christmas as well,”

“Yes, I haven’t forgotten,” He scoffed with a smile. “And I assume, since you weren’t... here growing up, I assume you have no idea how to dance,” He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, and you do?” I scoffed.

“Yes,” He answered simply. “This isn’t my first Ball Y/n,”

“So, you’ve danced with other girls before?” I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t as jealous as I let off, it was just fun to watch him scramble over something so simple.

“Yes,” He sounded strained.

I smiled and pulled him to the center of the walkway, pulling him close.

“Teach me then,” I took his hand and he pulled me close, into first position. “You’re right, I have never danced before,” I confessed.

“I know,” He mused. “This is going to be horrendous,”

A laugh escaped his lips and mine. I sighed and took his hand as his other rested on my waist and mine on his shoulder. Music came from somewhere, but I didn’t question it, I was too focused on not stumbling.

“It’s a pattern,” He told me. “One, two, three, four,” He instructed.

It took a few—hundred—tries, but Draco was persistent. Soon I was tripping over my own feet less and spinning around the Tower laughing as I danced almost flawlessly in sweatpants. Now only if I could do it in heels and a dress.

Draco pulled me in and be began to speed up the pace, leading me into new steps before his hands moved quickly and he easily dipped me.

“Draco!” I exclaimed and gripped for him as he righted me.

“Did you think I was going to let you fall?” He teased as our dance stilled, the two of us closer than ever.

“Haven’t you already?” I asked, my hands drifting to their familiar place around his neck.

“Have you fallen for me then, Miss Lupine?” He asked softly, the electric current growing stronger as the distance between us closed.

Staring into blue eyes, I felt the coolness of a river, and the gentle waves of the ocean, comforting me with their chill. An entire world laid behind them, one that I yearned to explore and know every part of.

“I think so,” I whispered the confession. “A Lupine and a Malfoy,” I scoffed softly.

“What an idea,” He pondered. “To fall for someone like you,”

I smiled and pressed my lips softly to his, basking in his warmth. Now that we had stopped dancing, the winter air began to seep through my clothes. When I shivered, he pulled away and chuckled.

“You know, with all the spell and potions and charms out there, you would think there would be something to keep you warm,” Draco baited.

“I have you, don’t I?” “I suppose you do,”

Draco walked me back to the Gryffindor portrait in comfortable silence. Another fleeting goodnight kiss and I was far from being cold.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow then? Seven forty-five?”

“Are you sure about this Draco... your father and the Ball...” I looked down, still worried.

“Stop it Y/n,” He chided. “It will be fine. We’re safe here.” He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. “Now go get some rest.”

“Goodnight Draco,” I whispered. “And Merry Christmas,”

He eyed me and an amused smirk played at his lips.

“Happy Christmas,” I couldn’t tell if it was a correction or if he had meant it. “Goodnight Y/n,”

Again, we exchanged a glance, three words unspoken between us: I love you.

_____________________________

Draco woke early Christmas morning to Penelope fluttering annoyed at his side, cooing for attention. He had half the idea to shove her off the bed and go back to sleep, but you couldn’t really push a bird anywhere and expect it to stay away.

Groaning and sitting up, he saw that Penelope was sitting upon two parcels, and a letter accompanying each. It dawned on him that it was Christmas morning, not just any morning, and these must be from you.

Taking the one that had your letter attached—marked by your red wax seal—he opened the letter.

Merry Christmas Draco,

We had these sweets (we called them candy) in America, I had my mother send me some, and thought you might want to try them. Sour Patch Kids are my favorite, I’m not one for chocolate, but I did include some for you to try. If not, I’m sure Crabbe or Goyle wouldn’t mind having them.

Mother also sent all of my Latin books to you because you seemed interested in it the other night. Please be careful with them, they’re worth more than you can imagine, they belonged to my great great something grandfather. I will kill you if you ruin them. Though I suppose they are yours now... still.

And, from me... well, I got you a fountain pen. It was my grandfathers, a gift from a Muggle. I know, I know. But, it’s so small, and very useful. You use it like a quill and ink, but it doesn’t splotch or smear and dries instantly. I rewrite all of my class notes with a pen so that they’re neat, and I thought you might appreciate one as well. If you don’t want it, that’s fine too...

I hope you have a merry—happy Christmas morning. I await our dance tonight,

Yours,

Y/n

P.S. I sent a letter to Mrs. Weasley as well and I do believe that she sent you one of her hand knitted sweaters, so don’t be surprised if you get one. It was me. Again, if you don’t want it... it’s okay. I know it’s a lot.

Draco tossed the letter aside and tore open the package that accompanied it. Inside, as you had said, was a few thick books, come colorful plastic wrapped candy, and a long black velvet box.

Taking the box, he discarded the lid and nestled inside was a sleek silver cylindrical object. Removing it, Draco stared at the small thing, wondering what use it had and how had Muggles ever used this when ink and quill worked just fine.

Pulling of the cap as he would an inkwell, a small golden tip greeted him, similar to the ends of his quills, but less fragile. Taking your letter, he leaned it against one of the books you have gifted to him and he wrote his name with the pen.

It glided easily across the page, leaving dark ink in its wake, spelling his name delicately. There was no need to dip it back into an inkwell, and running his finger over it, he discovered that it didn’t smear or stain his fingers.

As much as he wanted to hate it and dismiss it, claiming that nothing smart logical or good came from Muggles, he couldn’t. This pen was something else. It was useful. And he hated it. But he also loved that it was from you and that you had clearly spent a lot of time trying to figure out what would prove worth to him even though it was Muggle.

He set the pen back into the box and placed it on his desk. Having a good idea what was in the other package and who it was from, he begrudgingly opened the letter attached.

Mr. Draco

I was quite surprised when I got a letter from Miss Y/n asking for her to make this for you, but I couldn’t say no to her—she is quite persuasive and truly seems to care about you having a good Christmas this year and who was I to refuse?

Have a Happy Christmas Draco, because someone out there really cares for you.

Mrs. Weasley

Dreading opening the package, knowing exactly what was inside, Draco opened the parcel and found an emerald green and grey striped knitted sweater. There was no sign of the god-awful initial of his first name. No, it was just a normal sweater, as if you knew what to ask for and what he would wear.

A smile touched his lips as he slipped the sweater over his head and picked up the book you sent: Wheelock’s Latin. Flipping through a few pages he could see you steady writing in notes littering the margins and little bookmarks placed in odd places to him.

The room around him started to come alive as the others around him awoke, and began to tear through their presents, but he remained on his bed in his own little bubble, leafing through the books and making his way through the American sweets you had sent—particularly enjoying something called Mike and Ikes.

Because of you, he had one of the best Christmas mornings that he had in a long while. He hoped that you were as well.

___________________________

The excitement of the morning had me awake earlier than normal and I saw that Hermione was already awake. Smiles spread across our faces as we wished another a Merry Christmas then began to open the presents that laid at the foot of our beds.

Hermione had gotten me a book—the same book that I had taken from Malfoy in the library— “so that you can have your own” she explained. Harry and Ron had joined together and gotten me a new set of inkwell and quill and a bound book of parchment in emerald and gold. Mrs. Weasley went above and beyond as normal with snacks and the usual sweater; this year it was a deep red with a forest green trim and gold accents. There was another set of graphite pencils and sketchbook from my mother and new diamond earrings from my grandparents.

On its own, on my bedside table was a small package in silk green wrapping and a letter with a matching green seal. My heart fluttered as I picked it up, knowing that it was from Draco. I hope that he had gotten what I had sent and that he had accepted it.

Opening the letter, it was short and unbearably sweet:

Dearest Y/n,

For you, to remind you that we are more than names and houses.

Happy Christmas. I’ll see you tonight,

Yours,

Draco

Smiling I opened the small box and inside cushioned was a necklace. It held neither an emerald nor ruby, instead a sapphire, the color of the sea, the color of his eyes, the feeling of Animi Amoris. On a delicate silver chain and lain in a diamond encrusted heart the sapphire sat, smiling at me.

“Oh Draco,” I murmured softly.

“What he get you?” Hermione asked, grinning, coming over to my bed in her Weasley sweater.

I showed her the necklace, not letting it leave my hold.

“He really is a sap, isn’t he?” Hermione sighed

“Yeah, he is,” I smiled, putting the necklace on. “He’ll never admit it though.”

Harry and Ron met up with Hermione and me in the common room, and we went down to breakfast together. I didn’t catch sight of Draco at breakfast and I wondered where he was. Deciding not to fret too much I spent the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents—as I was, starting to sketch with my mother’s present.

Lunch was just as extravagant and featured so many turkeys I wondered exactly how long it had taken for them all to be cooked. I did see Draco at lunch, but other than a wave and a smile, there was no time for a proper hello in the fervor of the festivities, not that we didn’t try.

Time flew and soon Hermione and I were up in the Gryffindor Tower getting ready for the Ball. I had to help her with her hair and makeup, knowing a bit more in the area.

“He asked you out last night to teach you to dance?” She squeaked. “That is the cutest thing, I honestly don’t believe it,”

I rolled my eyes and pinned her hair into place.

“I think he’s been so worried about keeping up his reputation that he doesn’t know who to be, ya know? He doesn’t have the parents we do... or the friends. He’s just...” I trailed off.

“I understand, it’s just odd.” Hermione smiled.

“Yeah, but he’s still himself... just good.” I placed the final pin. “There, that should stay for the rest of... well forever.” I grinned. “No one will know it’s you Cinderella,” I teased.

“Oh, and who does that make you?

“Your fairy godmother of course,” I mocked a bow

“I’m pretty sure that makes you Belle and you’re living Beuaty and the Beast,” She pointed out mischievously.

I laughed and started to work on her makeup. She then helped me curl my hair and place it into a plaited bun. It was great fun. I teased her about Krum, and she teased me right back about Draco. We finally had time to sit and talk without anyone prying and without a deadline.

The time came and we both got into our dresses, doing finishing touches. Hermione held herself higher as we looked in the mirror, her periwinkle dress playing off of my crimson red one. Draco’s necklace hung at the hollow of my chest.

We both left the fray a bit early, I had to meet Draco and she had to meet Krum. Just as he had promised, Draco met me outside the Common Room, looking nervous and very handsome. His suit was well tailored, the stark black and white playing off another.

“Wow,” He breathed out, making me look down, blushing the color of my dress.

“My mother does have a dramatic flair, doesn’t she?” I asked, running my fingers through the layers of tulle and speckled diamonds that danced in the candlelight.

“I don’t think she has anything to do with how breathtaking you look right now,” Draco offered his hand.

I took it, taking careful graceful steps in the heels that my mother also sent me.

“You look quite handsome as well,” I complimented. “Quite a change from school uniforms is it not?”

“One that I rather enjoy,” He smiled as I held onto him, descending the stairs toward the Great Hall entrance.

Everyone in the hall stopped with the sight of us, gawking. A hush fell over the crowd as we entered the mass of students, all dressed for the occasion, all gaping—or glaring—at the two of us. I tried to not let it bother me, but I couldn’t quite let it go.

“People are staring,” I whispered.

“Y/n I’m sure you’ve seen yourself in a mirror, you are more than worth staring at.”

I looked down, suddenly very focused on not tripping. When the Great Hall doors were opened, I caught sight of Harry and Ron with their dates, the Patil twins, and gave him a small wave as we were ushered out into the lawn.

It was captivating, the sight of it all. I leaned against Draco, marveling at the fairy lights and enchantment of it all. The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

“Like a fairy tale,” I whispered, letting my eyes wander.

“Shall we then,” Draco asked, leading me to one of the front tables where my—our friends were sitting.

“If he’s the Slytherin Prince then no doubt tonight you’re the Gryffindor Princess,” Fred muttered in my ear.

I let out a small laugh and looked to Draco, who raised an eyebrow in question, but I shrugged and shook my head, taking his hand in mine. With the Triwizard champions having sat and Dumbledore beginning the feast, the Hall was filled with talking and laughter and merriment.

It was comforting, watching it all. Draco fit in with the crowed around us and Hermione and Viktor were having what seemed like the best time at one of the head tables. I was happy for her; she finally was seen on the outside who she was on the inside.

Dinner had come and passed and with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore transformed the Great Hall into a dance floor. Anxiety fluttered in my chest at the thought that I would have to dance in front of people soon.

“I can hear you worrying,” Draco murmured softly, as he stood behind me his hands at my waist.

“I have to dance,” I fretted. “I’m going barefoot, I hope you know that,”

He chuckled and nodded, whether in acknowledgement or permission, I wasn’t sure. Soon other couples began to join the champions. I broke from Draco’s hold and discarded my heels under a nearby table. When I went back, I couldn’t find Draco. My eyes scanned the crowd until I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Relaxing I turned and saw gentle blue eyes.

“May I have this dance?” Draco bowed slightly, offering his hand out again.

“You may,” I grinned and took it as he led me to the dance floor.

“I won’t let you fall,” He promised in a soft voice as we fell into a familiar pattern, learned only the night before.

The world faded around us as he guided me on the dance floor. My eyes never left his and a smile never left either of our faces. It was our own little world as we waltzed across the floor.

The moment held another sort of magic, one where we didn’t have to do anything but fall into step with another and dance upon the notes left by the music around us.

“Ready?” He whispered and I nodded.

Gently, as the music ended, he dipped me, father than before, but I wasn’t afraid.

He wasn’t going to let me fall.

Part 12?

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parkerparts · 4 years

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My Work is Loving the World

Harley Keener lives alone in Tony Stark’s cabin by the lake. He fills his days with bot-building, AI-coding, garden-tending, and absolutely no spider-killing. It’s fun, sure, but he’s terribly lonely. That all changes when he comes across a red and blue spider in his garden, and to make matters even better, the little fella can understand him.

Truly, it’s a testament to Harley’s sanity — or lack thereof — that he doesn’t run away screaming. Instead, he smiles softly and holds out his hand. “Well then, Peter. Want to come stay with me in the house for a little while? I’m real lonely up there and could use the company.”

The spider Peter doesn’t bother spelling out a response. He just jumps into Harley’s hands, ready to go with him to the ends of the earth.

“Well then,” Harley says again, if only to fill the silence between himself and the nonverbal creature. “Here we go.”

(parkner, 2.6k, no warnings except for fluff and a lil sad boi harley, inspired by this prompt by @offbrand-celestial, title from mary oliver’s ‘the messenger,’ beta’d by the lovely @midorimireio-blog)

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When he was nine years old, Harley read that killing spiders in a beer brewery was practically illegal. His garage might not be a brewery — though admittedly, he had made moonshine in there once or twice on a whim with a friend or as a dare — but he still outlawed the killing of spiders.

“Why?” his Ma had asked, stepping into the place to bring him a dinner plate. She frowned at the expanse of cobwebs Harley empathetically embraced.

“They’re cool creatures,” he said with a shrug, mouth full with a bite cornbread. “Ain’t done nothing wrong to me, so I don’t see no point in killin’ them things.”

Twelve years later, not a thing has changed. He lives in Georgia now, in the lakeside cabin Tony and Pepper keep as their getaway house. They visit more often as Morgan gets older, needing a break from whatever mess they handle up in the city to spend time as a family — Harley and the other Keeners included. Harley’s Ma lives in New York, has some swanky job in one of Pepper’s departments, but Abbie’s in Georgia with Harley, attending Emory University. Harley, at Tony’s insistence, had finished high school before moving out, though he refused to go to college. He liked living here, alone most of the time except for when Abbie visited from her dorm on holidays and the Starks and his Ma came down every couple of months. He could do as he pleased, tinkering and inventing and regularly blowing things up. He was terribly happy in that cabin by the lake.

He was also terribly lonely.

Sure, he had his cars and his bots and his trusty AI C.I.R.C.E, but they weren’t the same as human connection, something he infallibly yearned for. Some days, when the self-imposed isolation was too much to bear, he’d drive half an hour into the city of Atlanta, stay a night in a hotel, find a bar, and dance the night away with a faceless guy or two before sleeping alone, buzzed but not drunk and temporarily satisfied.

Most days though, he’d just swallow down the loneliness, bury himself in work or bury himself in blankets. It was all the same to him anyway — a hazy blur of sunrises and sunsets and meals he may or may not have eaten, chores he may or may not have finished. The pile of dirty clothes is a testament to that last one, and he spends three days in an engineering binge to create Landry, the bot who lovingly does his laundry for him when he can hardly be bothered to get out of bed.

Some memories in this hazy blur stick out more sharply than others, and they all revolve around the garden.

It had been started by Pepper as a vegetable garden. When its care fell into Harley’s hands, he had lovingly invested in it, throwing as much hard work and passion into it as he did his engineering. Over the years it has grown into a veritable maze — though not an actual hedge maze, which would have been unimaginably pretentious in Harley’s eyes, and much too orderly. He grew nearly every fruit, vegetable, and flower the Georgia climate would allow and spent hours engineering bots to take care of it.

And, just as in the old garage back in Rose Hill, he had a strict no spider-killing rule.

Harley wakes up, sprawled sideways in a chair on the porch. The sun is high in the sky, and a glance at his phone indicates that it’s well past noon. Even then, Harley shivers, the spring air not yet warm enough for his liking. Half a day wasted, though really, Harley muses as he goes inside, he was up all night combing through his AI’s code, so it’s not like he actually wasted time. Just daylight.

“Mornin’ C.I.R.C.E,” he greets his AI, yawning. “How we feeling?”

“Like brand new, after last night’s check-up.”

“Good, good,” he murmurs, rifling through his dresser. At long last he finds a pair of clean jeans, holding them up with a triumphant grin. “C.I.R.C.E., wake Kof-E up for me, will ya? And send Landry in here. She’s been slacking off her duties.”

“You got it, partner.” Tony had been downright scandalized when he heard Harley’s AI’s country twang. Abbie had laughed about the look on his face for days. Harley smiles at the memory as he goes back out into the kitchen, freshly dressed but with his hair as unkempt as ever. His beloved robot Kof-E whirs from his place on the kitchen counter, wheeling closer as Harley approaches to present a cup of coffee. Harley takes it and pats the robot’s head. He heads outside again, slipping on his boots and a flannel as he makes his way to the garden.

He grabs an apple from the trees that line the border of the garden as he walks through, pausing to greet his robots — Go-G and Gerald — by name as they trundle along. Soon he reaches a small clearing by the lake under the shade of an oak tree that’s sure to be over a hundred years old. Here, Harley takes a seat, finishing his apple and tucking and core into a bag in his pocket that he’ll put in composting later.

A flash of light catches his eye, and he stands, moving closer to the source. There, in between the branches of the tree, is a spider web that — if Harley’s not hallucinating — spells out HI.

“Howdy,” Harley says out loud in response, feeling only a little stupid. “Where are you?”

As if it can understand him, a spider skittles out of the shadows of the branches. Harley bends closer to take a look, surprised by the vibrancy of the peculiar red and blue creature.

“Can you understand me?” Harley asks.

He only has to wait a moment before the spider has spun a new pattern, spelling YES.

“You got a name, fella?”

The response takes a little longer this time as the spider spells out PETER.

The spider Peter doesn’t bother spelling out a response. He just jumps into Harley’s hands, ready to go with him to the ends of the earth.

“Well then,” Harley says again, if only to fill the silence between himself and the nonverbal creature. “Here we go.”

Over the next few days, Harley and Peter figure out how to live together comfortably. All of Harley’s robots are programmed to recognize and avoid spiders and spider webs, so Peter’s safety isn’t much of a concern. Communication, however, is.

They start out with an old-fashioned chalkboard with basic responses, needs, and the alphabet written out for Peter to indicate by crawling on. With that taken care of, Harley sets off on his next engineering binge, with the goal in mind to create a robot that will allow Peter to move and speak.

He begins by programming a new AI called PETER — Personal Equipment for Telecommunications and Electronic Replies because Harley loves is acronyms as much as Tony does — and gives him the voice of a teenage boy or young adult.

If Abbie or his Ma were here to witness this bout of insanity, they’d call him out for his poorly concealed loneliness. Nonetheless, he is alone and shamelessly gives in to his fantasy of finding a best friend, even if that best friend is a spider.

And really, Peter’s not too shabby of a best friend to have. He likes bacon and waffles — really, the fact that this spider liked human foods should have been a glaring clue to Harley that something truly weird was going on — and makes Harley regain a somewhat normal sleeping schedule by wrapping webs gently around his wrists to make him stop working late at night and somehow — Harley has never figured this one out — getting C.I.R.C.E. to play rock music loudly every morning to rouse him awake. He also gets C.I.R.C.E. to wake Kof-E up every morning though, so Harley can’t complain too much. Peter accompanies Harley in the lab, webbing tools over with surprising strength and giving as much input as he can with his limited communication abilities. He accompanies Harley into the garden every evening and listens as Harley speaks, asking questions every now and then with his little chalkboard. Harley can’t wait to build his robot, ready to hear Peter tell him a story of his own.

At long last, after two weeks of work, Harley finishes the robot, affectionately nicknamed “Capslock P.E.T.E.R.,” with Peter’s approval. He guides the spider into the clear container that serves as Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s head before stepping back with bated breath to watch his genius play out.

“Hiya, Harley,” Peter/P.E.T.E.R. says, and Harley is nearly moved to tears. “I’m Peter.”

“I know,” Harley replies with a breathless laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Peter.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Peter replies, voice full of emotion that Harley had no idea an AI was capable of producing.

That evening, they go out to the garden, back to the clearing where they first technically met. Peter greets the garden robots as he trundles by, voice adorably becoming more enthusiastic as the robots chirp back. Harley just smiles fondly at the spider inside the robot, quietly regretting his failure to give Capslock P.E.T.E.R. a face, if only to see him smile back.

“I think it’s your turn to tell me a story,” Harley says, settling by the lake. P.E.T.E.R. rolls to a stop beside him.

“Okay,” he says. “Well, here it goes.”

Peter had once been Peter Benjamin Parker, a bright, young science nerd living in New York City with his aunt. He worked as an intern for Tony Stark, who found the boy after heavy surveillance of a masked vigilante who liked to web muggers up in a sticky, fluid substance of his own invention. “Spider-Man,” the media called him, though Tony preferred “Spider-Boy.”

Then, in a tragic twist of irony, Peter was actually bitten by a spider and somehow become a spider himself.

“Mr. Stark was beside himself. The whole thing was so bizarre, and he couldn’t figure it out. Dr. Banner thought it was radiation, but he attributes most unexplainable phenomena to radiation,” Peter explains.

Eventually, a wizard doctor guy Tony reluctantly called in a favor with figured it out. Harley wants to interrupt and ask what exactly he had figured it out, but Peter glosses over it and presses on. Apparently, Tony had been telling Harley’s Ma the story and she, remembering Harley’s affinity for spiders, had suggested that Tony send Peter down to Harley’s place. They wanted it to be a secret or for him to figure it out on his own or something, so they discreetly packaged Peter in the latest care package/equipment shipment they had sent down from New York.

“That was nearly a week before I found you!” Harley cries out, remembering.

Peter reminds him that “You had an engineering binge,” and Harley blushes, unapologetic.

Together, they sit in silence for a moment as Harley digests the story, which really was something straight out of a comic book. Then a thought occurs to him and he says, “Hey, what did that wizard doctor figure out?”

“Oh,” Peter says with poorly feigned surprise, as if he hadn’t wanted Harley to remember that little detail he left out. “Yeah, he figured out a cure.”

“There’s a cure?” Harley turns to face Capslock P.E.T.E.R. with excitement. “Peter, why didn’t you so? We have to fix this! Tell me, what can I do?”

Peter is quiet for a moment, and Harley begins to wonder if he’s said something wrong. “See, this curse or whatever is magic. And the only cure is a kiss. A true love’s kiss.”

Harley’s mind goes blank. True love?

Harley doesn’t believe in true love. He doesn’t buy into the whole soulmate idea. He moved out to a cabin in the middle of the woods with a heavily encrypted, unlisted address, condemning himself to a solitary lifestyle. He’s lonely, sure, but he likes it. He likes his space, his bots, his AI …

And Peter. He really, really likes Peter.

In the past couple of weeks, Peter has become an integral part of Harley’s life as his trusted companion and caretaker. He’s listened to all of Harley’s stories, and Harley wants nothing more than to hear all of Peter’s, get to know the boy beneath the arachnid body. As he thinks about it more, Harley can’t imagine a life without Peter in it, and maybe Peter’s not his true love — not yet, at least — but it’s worth a shot.

“Well then,” Harley says tentatively. “What are we waiting for?”

With shaking hands, he frees Peter from Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s containment, smiling as the red and blue spider jumps eagerly into his hands. Harley raises his palm to his face, closes his eyes, and before he can think any more about it, he kisses the creature.

Immediately, Harley can feel the ripple of magic course through Peter’s body. The creature in his hands morphs until he’s cupping not a spider but the soft cheek of a boy whose lips are pressed gently against Harley’s. He opens his eyes at long last and pulls away, unable to contain a gasp at the sight of the boy-turned-spider-turned-boy-again, whom he’s come to love.

Peter wears what looks like a spandex suit, though it’s probably some fancy Stark tech, red and blue with black webbing all over it and a black spider emblem emblazoned on his chest. Harley assumes that the mask Peter mentioned is missing, but he’s glad for the fact as he drinks in Peter’s rosy cheeks and amber eyes and tousled brown curls that make Harley’s heart ache with yearning.

“Hi,” Peter says nervously in his own voice, not Capslock P.E.T.E.R.’s.

“Thank God you came back wearing clothes, because that would’ve made for a real awkward situation.” Harley wants to take back his words — which he hadn’t actually meant to say aloud, for goodness’s sake — as soon as he sees Peter’s eyes widen, but when the boy lets out a bark of surprised laughter, Harley relaxes, joining in. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

“It’s okay. The first time I met Mrs. Potts, I ran into her — literally — and tried to say either ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Nice to meet you’ but ended up blurting out ‘I’m sorry to meet you,’ instead. I just ran away. It was so embarrassing!”

Harley can’t help but to laugh again, leaning his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter leans his head on top of his. They sit there together, in the clearing by the lake, where it all began, feeling completely at peace with the world and each other and their state of being.

“Thank you,” Harley says suddenly, grabbing hold of Peter’s hand.

“What for?”

“The efflorescence of love,” Harley replies, “and the gossamer that holds us together.”

Peter says nothing at that, just squeezes Harley’s hand tighter. Together, they watch the sunset, witness the way the world changes colors.

The world might be forever changing, but at the heart of it all sat two boys by a lake with the knowledge that through it all, they’d have each other.

And it would be enough.

“I died, and was born in the spring; / I found you, and loved you, again.”

— Mary Oliver, “Hummingbirds”

#parkner #harley keener #peter parker #spider-man #parley #fluff #fairy tale au #frog prince au #marvel #mcu #bella writes #prompt answer

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meenasmoon · 6 years

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Singing in the Moonlight Ch 12: Let You Know

Woah boy. You guys have no idea how long it took me to deliver this baby but I hope that it’s well received. The turning point has been reached and we are now officially half way through. Stay tuned for more... and all the feels.

Johnny ran down the stairs like rocket, trying desperately not to trip over his own two feet as he tackled the building’s stairs in his relentless haste to get down to his truck. He fumbled with his keys in the waning daylight for what felt like forever before he finally got the door unlocked and launched himself into the truck. He had gotten a few miles down Main Street when he realized that he was going the wrong direction. Johnny resisted the urge to slap himself as he turned the truck around and hurried to the bakery where Meena worked.

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

He nervously patted the worn leather of his steering wheel and stared at the cheery storefront that was suddenly the most intimidating thing in the universe. The display windows taunted him and all of his insecurities came bubbling back up in his stomach, making it flip and flop restlessly. He flipped down the little vanity mirror in his sun visor and stared at himself, frantically checking his already messy hair. After a thorough examination in the mirror he decided that his hair was at the perfect amount of messy and he couldn’t stall for any longer.

Johnny forced open the door of his truck and as soon as his worn chucks hit the pavement he felt like he was weighed down by a million pounds. He found himself shuffling along the sidewalk until he was standing in front of the entrance to the bakery. It felt like the his heart was trying to leap out of his chest it was pounding so hard. He put a calming hand on his chest, took a deep breath that came out rather shaky and strutted into the tiny bakery…

Only to trip over the elderly capybara that owned the bakery. He stumbled to the side to avoid landing on the surprised older woman. He wobbled slightly but quickly recovered, heading over to the counter to wait for Meena, his confident strut now practically vibrating with nerves. He was so nervous, in fact, that he didn’t notice the garish yellow wet floor sign and was promptly sent flying across the slippery floor.

Johnny was filled with a devastating cocktail of fear and embarrassment as he gracelessly slipped and stumbled his way over to the counter. Once he was close enough he lunged forward and landed splayed out over the counter top with a deep sigh of relief. He slumped into the surface, letting his forehead slam against the counter painfully. His only solace was that Meena hadn’t been there to see his glorious entrance, in his strained state of mind he wasn’t sure that he would survive it.

“Well that was an interesting entrance.” A familiar sweet voice, accompanied by a musical giggle, shattered what little dignity he had left. His head shot up so quickly that he felt his neck twinge in protest, but all he could focus on was the beautiful elephant standing in front of him.

I need to let you know You're so beautiful and you don't know it

She was holding a tray of fresh-baked goods, obviously her masterpieces, in one hand and the other was covering her mouth slightly as she tried to hold back her giggles. Despite his humiliation, Johnny yearned for her to set them free so that he could fall under her addicting spell. He settled for the dazzling way that he baby blues sparkled with mirth and her cheeks colored slightly. Even in the dorky uniform she looked like a vision. Suddenly his gaze zeroed in on a smear of green frosting that painted her cheeks in an exact spot where she would never notice.

His thoughts came to a halt and every synapses centered around that glob of frosting, conjuring countless images of how he could politely tell her about it, lean forward and wipe it off himself, or even how he could kiss her cheek and transfer the stain to his lips. Before he could get too carried away with his thoughts, he shook himself and transformed his gaping look to a sheepish smile.

“Yeah… well ya kna me.” He muttered lamely but he was pleasantly surprised when Meena just giggled and set the tray down on the counter so that all of her attention was on him.

“So what are you doing here? Is something wrong?” Her face suddenly dropped into a look of concern and Johnny felt his throat dry up and clench painfully as he scrambled desperately for a casual reason to be there. He couldn’t say that he was hungry because he had just finished eating the pancakes that she had left them, but he didn’t wanna seem creepy. Was this a good time to ask her out? To tell her about his feelings?

You're so perfect I don't want to blow it But girl there's something that I gotta say

“Well I was wonderin’ if ya wanted ter go ter the park or summit.” He blurted out and almost immediately began berating himself for being cowardly. His punishment was interrupted by Meena’s giggle and he pulled his gaze away from the counter towards her face.

“You didn’t have to come all the way down here to ask me that. I’d love to.” She gave him a sunny smile that lifted his spirits enough for him to deliver some semblance of a charming reply.

“Well ya kna me. I can’t resist that smile of yers.” His pride swelled in his chest when her cheeks colored pink and she bashfully clasped her hands together.

“I-I’ll um... I’ll be done with my shift in a few minutes if you want to wait.” She stuttered slightly but Johnny was too consumed with his own nervous excitement to notice her nerves.

“Yeah!! I mean yeah sure. I’ll just wait ‘ere.” He settled back on the cushy stool and leaned forward in a manner that he desperately hoped looked casual rather than eager. Meena seemed to buy it as she spared him one last glance before resuming her duties.

See lately I’ve been feeling paralyzed I swear you’ve got me mesmerized Stuck counting every freckle on your beautiful face

After efficiently wasting fifteen minutes of struggling with Candy Crush, his plight was interrupted when the most delicious looking cupcake that he had ever seen appeared on the counter in front of him. Johnny looked up just in time to catch a conspiratorial wink from Meena before she hurried away to retrieve another tray of baked goods.

Johnny marveled at the perfect little morsel for a few seconds before he attacked it, taking a huge bite that effectively covered his lips in green frosting and sprinkles. He groaned happily as he savored the unique taste that could only come from something that Meena had baked. She had a way of taking the simplest thing and making it taste like heaven. He was convinced that it was some kind of magic because as of yet he couldn’t come up with any other reason.

He quickly finished the cupcake, devouring every last crumb until all that was left was the green tinge on his fingers and lips that would probably stain him for the rest of the day. His phone lay forgotten on the counter as his attention was brought back to Meena.

He could only sit there and take in her every feature, as if cataloging them for later.

Her blue eyes twinkled happily as she carefully balanced the tray and restocked the display cases. As they had grown closer he had learned to read her expression in those baby blues because it was the one part of her that could never hide what she was truly feeling. Despite knowing how they twinkled with joy or dulled with sadness, there were still so many expressions that he had yet to decipher. His favorite mystery was the way that they would light up sometimes when she thought he wasn’t looking. It always left him wondering what it was that she saw when she looked at him.

Another customer walked in and despite her shyness Johnny watched proudly as she took deep breath and went to help them. He listened as she spoke to the customer, lending her strength so that her normally soft, timid voice would carry some of the strength and confidence that was in her singing. As she became increasingly comfortable around the theatre family, he had noticed that her voice had changed slightly. It was still soft and sweet but she was stronger in her opinions, more comfortable with joking and arguing. It had been nice to see her come out of her shell.

The customer left and Meena resumed restocking the display cases, a comfortable smile on her lips. She was in her element here in the bakery, doing what she loved. It was fascinating to watch her doing something else that she loved. Of course they all had talents and lives outside of the theatre and it was always interesting to see the other side of the coin.

She turned in such a way that he caught sight of the faint freckles that littered her cheeks. They were adorable in that it gave her an element of innocence, and at the same time he felt special for catching a glance. They were rather faded so you could only see them if you were looking, and in Johnny’s quest to count them all, he was always looking.

Some part of him tried to remind him that he should be thinking up a plan for his confession so that it wouldn’t turn into a disaster, but he noticed the sweet smile on Meena’s face and his brain was turned into a pile of mush.

And for the first time in my life This world feels so right I can’t hold back I'll lose my mind

Ironically he was so absorbed in his thoughts of her that he didn’t notice her disappear into the back and then reappear with her bag. Meena giggles when she saw the spaces out gorilla staring at the wall like it was the love of his life. She put a hand on his shoulder and he immediately kept to his feet, startled out of his reverie.

“Oh! Meena.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair and slipped his phone into his pocket, “Ya scared me.”

Meena giggled and smiled playfully at him, “What were you thinking about space cadet?” She teased and a little warmth flared up in her chest when a slight blush colored Johnny’s cheeks.

“Nothin important. Ya ready ter go?” He gestured to the door and Meena gave the bakery another once over before she decided that she was indeed ready.

“Yup.” On a whim Johnny held out his arm and gave her a crooked grin, his playfulness yet to be dampened by his recurring nervousness.

“Allow me ter escort the lady ter the park.” He winked and Meena let out a full blown laugh this time, but to his surprise she threaded her arm with him and let him lead the way out the door and down the street to the city park.

The whole way there Johnny could feel his cheeks heating up with emotion as his brain frantically scrambled for something to say. The warmth of her soft body pressed against his and the sweet smell of her perfume invaded his every sense and rendered him a total mess.

Next to him, Meena was in a similar state of silence created by her pleasant surprise. She had been happy to see Johnny’s smiling face, especially after their rough night. He seemed a little jumpy and distracted but he was happy and that was all that really mattered. She had surprised herself by teasing him and then taking his arm but these ‘daring’ acts seemed to be paying off as she leaned in close and made her way to the park with him at her side.

Whatever Johnny’s plan had been, it fell apart the moment they set foot into the park. If he was honest with himself the farthest into planning that he had gotten was: go to the park, ask her out. So when they walked through the entrance and began ambling down a random path he was seriously struggling with what to do next.

He snuck a glance at Meena who was contentedly looking around, taking in every aspect of the peaceful little park. She looked so calm practically the opposite of him in that moment. Just the thought of asking her out now made his stomach flip and palms sweat. Never mind the fact that there was a big siren in his head practically screaming, 'not yet! It has to be perfect!’. It was enough to make him thoroughly confused and discouraged.

Plan B it was then.

I need to let you know And every time I open my mouth, I can’t get the words out I just have never given up before My heart is yours Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh My heart is yours

He frantically searched for Plan B, something to distract Meena and allow him to regain his bearings and he found it in an ice cream vendor that was just ahead. He pulled on her arm gently to get her attention but when she turned around the suave comment he had prepared got lost in a tongue tied question.

“‘Ey um… are ya ‘ungry?” Meena looked at him in confusion before she caught sight of the ice cream cart ahead and realization dawned on her face. Her confused look melted into a shy smile and she nodded. They made their way over to the ice cream cart and Meena reluctantly released his arm from her grip to order her ice cream. She got a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone and Johnny got a strawberry cone. He insisted on paying despite her protests and before she could slip the vendor some cash he beat her to the punch and firmly led her away.

Meena giggled as he guided her away, pretending to resist so that he would keep that strong arm around her waist. Walking through the park together like that, with ice cream, it almost felt like a date, and that arm around her waist only brought her hopes up. Johnny let her over to an open patch of grass on a little hill and promptly plopped himself down on the ground.

Meena plopped down next to him and licked at her ice cream cone, savoring the comfortable silence between them. She spent half of the time that it took to eat her ice cream cone watching people as they walked through the park, played in the fields, or hung out by the fountain. She had always loved the park because it was a nice place where she could people watch or find a nice solitary hill to watch the clouds.

Well hold up now wait a minute Maybe I could write a song with your name in it Hey I’m no Shakespeare but I can fake it

When all she had left was the cone, Meena let herself lay back in the grass and examine the sky for clouds worthy of pointing out to Johnny. Johnny noticed her laying back and watched her fondly out of the corner of his eye. She really was the most beautiful animal in the world, laying in the grass and eagerly searching the sky for something. He felt like he could live in this moment forever and be happy, if it wasn’t for the fact that he had sworn to tell her how he felt, to do something about those feelings that made every moment with her that much better.

“Pie.” Meena yanked him from his musings and directed his attention to a lumpy cloud that vaguely resembled the pastry. Johnny chuckled and settled himself down next to her so that they were laying side by side.

He pointed at a random cloud that was vaguely square shaped and teasingly declared, “Book.”

Meena propped herself up on her elbows so that she could stare disapprovingly down at him, “That doesn’t count mister. I know that you can do better than that.”

Johnny just laughed and childishly stuck his tongue out at her. She gasped indignantly and launched herself at him so that he was at the mercy of her fingers as they danced over his tickle spots.

Johnny let out a little surprised squeak before he broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Meena grinned triumphantly and battled with his wriggling form as he tried to escape her merciless fingers. Tears clouded Johnny’s vision as he struggled away from Meena, grasping uselessly at the grass as if the flimsy blades would help him.

After a few more minutes of torture Meena released him as she gazed down at him triumphantly. Johnny gasped for breath but that didn’t stop him from looking up at her adoringly, the taste of laughter still on the tip of his tongue.

“Tha’s...tha’s not fair.” He gasped and Meena just shrugged, her grin never once faltering. Johnny was helpless but to memorize that expression from his prone position, still trapped beneath her.

“Play the game right and we won’t have any issues.” She giggled and Johnny rolled his eyes. When he didn’t agree immediately she held her fingers over his tickle spot threateningly.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll play the bloody game right.” He laughed but there was an edge of panic in his voice that let Meena know that her threat worked. She released him and laid back in her spot to resume her search for the perfect cloud.

Johnny simultaneously felt relieved and remiss when he was freed but he decided that if he was going to keep it together, it was best that he not be trapped underneath the object of his affections. He turned his gaze away from Meena and back to the clouds, unwilling to incite her wrath again.

After a few minutes of silence, he pointed at a cloud that he had been studying for what felt like forever, trying to discern some shape. “I think tha’ one looks loike a feather.” He pointed and Meena followed his finger until she found the feather cloud.

“Now you’re getting it!” She laughed and resumed her search of the skies. They felt like kids again, laying in the grass, soaking up the sun and competing to see who could get the last cloud. They catalogued every cloud in the sky until finally, Johnny found the last one: a big heart innocently floating in the sky as if it was waiting for him to find it.

“Ha! I win.” He exclaimed happily and rolled over so that he was laying on his stomach, pressed up against Meena’s side. The heart cloud taunted him from the sky, as if the universe was trying to remind him exactly what he had set out to do when he brought Meena to the park.

And maybe I could try to learn to fly So I could write your name up in the sky Gotta shout out loud, I just can’t take it And for the first time in my life This world feels so right I can’t hold back I'll lose my mind

Meena surprised him by rolling onto her side so that their faces were mere inches apart, “What exactly did you win?”

Johnny could tell that it was spoken out of pure curiosity but he couldn’t help but be tempted to steal a kiss from her lips and claim it as his prize. Something told him that it wasn’t the right moment to do that. The gentleman that his mother had raised him to be was insisting that he woo her before he kiss her, not steal one. So he leaned forward and smirked challengingly at her.

“Tell me wot yer bakin’ secrets are.” He whispered and despite her blush Meena let out a laugh and lightly shoved his shoulder. Instead of pulling back like he expected her to she leaned forward and whispered as if she was telling him a secret. He leaned in, anticipation building as if she was really about to spill her secrets to him, and he felt her breath close to his face.

“Nope.” She whispered and her giggles tempered his frown into a playful glare. She rolled her eyes at his pouting and rolled onto her back so that she was looking up at the sky once more.

“Awww come on. Tha’s not fair. I won and I wanna know.” He whined and sprawled himself next to her, their heads nearly touching.

“You didn’t really think that I was gonna tell you all my secrets did you? The fact that they are secrets is half of what makes them taste good.” She insisted but Johnny’s stubborn pouting continued so she was forced to placate him by running her idles hands through his hair. He relaxed within a few seconds and Meena decided that since he had treated her to ice cream, the least she could do was promise him a few choice morsels.

“If it helps. I’ll let you try my new creations when they debut at the bakery. You can have an all access pass.” She paused when she saw the devious grin spreading across his face, “Within reason Johnny Bannerton.” she scolded him but he didn’t mind. How could he possibly mind anything with the way that her fingers were stroking his scalp and weaving their way through his thick locks?

For what felt like the millionth time that day he considered telling her in that moment, blurting out his feelings as they relaxed in the sunshine, but once again his brain acted without his permission and this time his voice was husky when he delivered his lamest reply yet.

I need to let you know And every time I open my mouth I can’t get the words out I’ve just never given up before

“I’m sure they’ll be really good. Thanks.” He kicked himself the moment that the words left his mouth but Meena didn’t seem to mind his verbal diarrhea. She gave him a grateful smile but there was a hint of doubt in it. Johnny watched as she turned her attention to the clouds once more, but her mind was most definitely somewhere else. He gave her a couple minutes of silence before he tentatively reached out and clasped her hand in his own. Despite how the intimate contact made his heart beat frantically in his chest, Meena gripped his hand tight and it calmed him to think that she was drawing some comfort from him.

“Wot’s wrong Meena?” he finally whispered and Meena hesitated for what felt like forever before she turned to face him, her blue eyes uncertain.

“I’m just… I’m a little nervous about work.” She stumbled out and while Johnny was surprised and bursting with questions he just gave her an encouraging smile and waited for her to continue. Meena took a shaky breath, gave his hand a squeeze and then rolled over so that she was leaning in close.

“When I was at work today my boss told me that she wanted me to give her two new recipe ideas for the display case. Sh-she wants to display my work on the display!” She was gushing but Johnny could tell that she was still worried. He mirrored her smile and squeezed her hand a little bit to convey his support. Meena immediately burst into an attractive blush and sent Johnny’s heart back into a tizzy.

“And I’m so honored, I’m so excited but… but what if I mess it up? What if they don’t taste good? What if they don’t look good?” Johnny could see her descending into a panic so he quickly captured her other hand and held them both tight against his chest. Her teary blue eyes stayed glued to his calm brown eyes and he gave her his best serious face, trying desperately to convey his sincerity.

My heart is yours Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh My heart is yours Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

"Meena... ya gotta 'ave faith in yourself. Ya 're an amazin' singer and your bakin' is aht of this world. There is nah way that ya could mess this up. I know that you’ll blow those customers away.” Meena felt her heart stop when he spoke to her in that soft sincere voice and she felt like the world around them had disappeared. And then he successfully made her world stop.

“Cause I ‘ave faith in ya.”

All she could do was nod and smile, her confidence slowly returning as if his words and look alone could bring it back from the dead. As if he didn’t already have her heart he decided to lighten the mood with a conspiratorial wink and a crooked grin. Despite herself, Meena broke out into giggles and his smile grew in response.

“Thank you Johnny.” She pulled him into a tight hug, savoring the feeling of his strong arms as they wrapped around her. She took a deep breath and finally released him from the embrace, only for him to pull back, briefly cup her cheek, and then scoot back slightly. Meena gave him a grateful smile and laid back into her original position.

“I’ve been thinking about taking some cooking classes at the community college.” She said offhand, the thought that he should know suddenly popping into her brain. Johnny sat up eagerly and loomed over her, a big grin dominating his face.

"That's amazin' Meena! I mean you’re already so talented but I fin’ that ya could learn a lot from those classes.” He gushed and Meena blushed at his praise but smiled nonetheless, feeling some kind of pride that he was so excited for her.

You’re the sound track in my mind You’re the word that I can't rhyme It’s like I'm singin' Dah-dah-dah-dah-dah All the time

Suddenly something occurred to Meena about the familiar park and as she looked back up at Johnny. The happiness and sheer affection in his eyes only served to convince her that he deserved to see her special place.

“Hey Johnny?” She asked tentatively and he hummed slightly to acknowledge her question. She felt her cheeks heating up reflexively and for the millionth time she cursed her default shyness. Despite the way her heart sped up and her tongue felt like lead she pushed through and blurted out her offer.

“I want to take you somewhere...somewhere special.” She watched a blur of emotions flit across his face and his brown eyes darted over her face as if he was trying to see what exactly she was thinking.

She pushed her feelings back from the forefront of her mind, trying desperately to keep the out of his piercing gaze. Johnny was her best friend and even the chance of losing him to her confession was scary enough to quell that warm love that flowed through her every second that she spent with him.

She was pulled from her thoughts when Johnny sat pack, making room for her to sit up. Meena quickly sat up so that their faces were inches apart. He looked startled but his smile quickly resurfaced.

“Sounds loike a plan.” She heard him accept and like a shot she was on her feet, practically overflowing with an energetic excitement that was wholly contrary to her shy nature but extremely adorable none the less. Johnny sat on their little grassy hill, watching happily as she practically danced away from him.

He didn’t realize that he was supposed to be following until she turned around and saw him still sitting on the hill. He was about to get up when she bounded over, grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. With a secretive smile she clasped his hand in hers and led the way deeper into the vast park.

I need to let you know And every time I open my mouth I can’t get the words out I’ve just never given up before

As they weaved through trees and waded through a particularly dense field of flowers, a particularly persistent memory called for his attention. It broke through his haze of happiness and suddenly his appreciation of the feel of her hand in his was interrupted by a persistent voice that sounded suspiciously like Ash.

‘Isn’t there something you were supposed to be telling her?’

Johnny felt that deliciously happy feeling that always absorbed him when he was with her, a feeling that he had decided was his love for her. Accompanying the feeling like a bucket of ice water was the anxiety that had plagued him since he locked eyes with her. It was easy to have conviction when the object of your affections wasn’t looking at you with that disarmingly sweet smile. His mission from the start was to tell her how he felt and ask her on a date but as usual she had effectively distracted him from his thoughts.

‘That’s right Lover Boy. Time to gorilla up and do it already.’ His smug conscience gloated and while he still appreciated the feeling of her hand in his, he was now more focused than ever on expressing himself. And where better to do it than in a place so special to Meena?

My heart is yours Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh My heart is yours Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

They broke through the tree line onto an old winding path, sheltered from the rest of the world by a tunnel of trees on either side. Meena’s wager pace slowed down to a content stroll but her grip on his hand never faltered. Johnny looked around at the overgrown path and how nature seemed to be reclaiming it. Somehow it seemed to make the little haven all that more charming.

He heard the faint sounds of running water and when they cleared the canopy of trees the path transformed into a charming bridge that stood proudly over a creek.

Meena finally released his hand and he stepped back to watch her walk up onto the bridge. She reverently ran her hand over the smooth surface of the old wood. He gave her a few moments alone before he joined her on the bridge, leaning his back against the railing so that he could see her face. The only other time he had seen her so relaxed was when she gave in to the music on stage. Her face was accented by her twinkling eyes and an unconscious smile and her ears weee flared to reveal her full face.

She was the first to break the tranquil silence between them, her soft tone blanking so perfectly with the scenery that Johnny could easily believe that she had been born for this place, “My dad used to bring me here.” She traced a carving in the wood, drawing Johnny’s attention to it.

It was a crude carving of a daisy and below it the initials M and D has been carved slightly deeper into the wood. Johnny smiled and a wave of nostalgia washed over him, reminding him of the special things that he had done with his mother.

“He used to tell me that this was a magic bridge. Good things always happen here.” Meena drew him back to the present and he placed his hand on top of hers.

“Thank you for bringing me here, sharing this with me.” He said quietly and Meena gave him a smile that made him weak before turning her attention back to their surroundings.

My heart is yours I need to let you I need to let you know

He couldn’t bring himself to follow her gaze as she looked down at the water because he was too busy sappily watching her expressions. She was happy but it was an innocent kind of happiness, like she was reliving her childhood happiness.

Her skin was dappled with patches of sunlight that broke through the leaves of the trees and her body was completely relaxed. It was like seeing a whole different side of her, where she didn’t feel the pressure to impress anyone or do everything perfectly. And the most amazing part was that not only was he there to see it, but he was allowed to be a part of it.

She was beautiful like this and that fact would have hit him like a truck if he wasn’t already aware of how beautiful she always was. Instead it settled on his mind like another layer of who she was.

And just like the stream below them his courage came trickling back.

My heart is yours I need to let you I need to let you know My heart is yours

The fire that had all been put out by nerves and bad timing flared up inside of him and he began to recognize the opportunity that was before him, ripe for the taking. There was no room for excuses because he knew that there would be no better time and no better better place to talk her how he felt.

This bridge was important to her, it was isolated, and the charm of nature made it perfectly romantic. The universe had delivered his standards on a silver platter and finally, he refused to give up. He didn’t give up on anything and he wasn’t about to start now.

Johnny took a deep breath and took Meena’s hand in his own, his heart in his throat and his courage washing through him like an exhilarating waterfall.

You’re the sound track in my mind You’re the word that I can't rhyme I’ve never given up before

“Meena I... I been thinkin’ and I’ve really enjoyed gettin’ ter know ya.” He started and cleared his throat while Meena looked at him with open curiosity and confusion. When he mentioned getting to know her she smiled and her cheeks flushed to mirror his steadily reddening face.

“And I dunno bout ya but I keep feeling’ butterflies in my chest when I’m wif ya.” He laughed nervously, not quite sure why he was doing it but he pressed on anyways.

“Cause I loike ya. A lot. And I don’t wanna ruin what we ‘ave but I just gotta take a chance and ask ya if ya wanna... I dunno, eat food or see a movie wif me.... together... loike a date?” He winced at his delivery, wondering what happened to the cool but still heartfelt confession that he had planned on delivering. It was too late now. He could only hope that she would understand his babble and accept.

My heart is yours And this heart is yours I’ve never given up I’ve never given up

The silence after his confession hung between them like a thick fog and Johnny held his breath like the smallest sigh would break the spell and send everything into a downward spiral.

His mind was alight with the worst possible scenario as it braced for a rejection that he dreaded. He hoped beyond hope that he hadn’t just permanently damaged their friendship. They had become so close in so short a time and losing that would be like losing a limb or more importantly his heart. He tried to picture life without her but his imagination refused to cooperate. Now that he had had a taste of what things could be like with her he outright refused to think about what his life could be if he lost her in this moment.

It had only been a few seconds of silence but he felt like he had been waiting in agony for years. He looked up at her face in an effort to find out why she was remaining silent, almost hoping that her rejection would be written out, clear as day, just so he could have an answer, something other than this silence that he was growing to abhor.

However, he was not rewarded. Sure the shock of finding out that he had feelings for her was apparent but the only other expression that Johnny could find was the unreadable mystery expression that usually fascinated him. In this moment, however, it was nothing but frustrating and only served to drive him further in the pit of despair.

Finally his impatience won out and he decided that he would just take it back, pass it off as a joke, anything that he could do to salvage the situation, but she beat him to it. He stood there mouth open and his words stopped in their tracks by her trunk as she held up to his mouth in a hushing motion.

My heart is yours

And then like a dream his agony was quelled by one little word that fell from her lips like his salvation.

“Yes.”

First

#sing the movie #singing in the moonlight #johnny x meena #johnny sing #meena sing #awkward gorilla boy #somebody give him a trophy #'i spoke me feels'#yay!!

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