A Place to Call Home-Part VI
Just letting you all know that I added all the entries of this fic into my memories in case you ever wanted to read i t again you could easily find it. On with part V1. :D
Home inspires questions that reside in the heart.
Joey gave Dawson a sidelong glance as they walked towards the woods on the outskirts of Capeside. They hadn’t said much to one another since they had left his house. She had planned this picnic with the intention to tell him what she had been keeping from him for the past month. She wasn’t sure how he’d react, what’d he’d say, what he’d do. Would he even care? Of course he would care, anyone with a heart would. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her and see her as a weak person. He had always admired her strength, but in the past month she had begun to realize that he was a lot stronger than he had ever given himself credit for.
He had worked hard to achieve his dreams and he had lost so much. He had lost his dad, Jen, and for a while her. She hung her head in shame. How had she let that happen? Why didn’t she fight for him as hard as he had always fought for her? Her heart had broken to see him leave, but she had meekly bowed down and let it happen. She had let him leave her dorm room and let her pride stand between them. Then she had chosen to be with Pacey all those years ago, something she had thought she wanted, but the more she was around Dawson the more she realized she had made the easy choice. Pacey had never had the power to break her heart as deeply as Dawson. Watching Pacey leave two years ago had been hard, but it hadn’t been as painful as the thought that Dawson would never give her another chance.
Was it a mistake he would make her pay for the rest of her life? She was in his life, but he wasn’t allowing her into his heart. She was starting to realize that more than anything she wanted to be with Dawson. Had she ever stopped wanting that? It felt like that feeling had always been there, just lying dormant until she was prepared to accept it and everything that came along with it. But was it too late? She had so many questions, but she didn’t know how to ask. She didn’t know how to tell him how she felt about him without telling him what she was going to today. She had been fooling herself to think they could ever be just friends. It wasn't possible as long as they were both unattached.
Dawson noticed that she was watching him just as intently as he was watching her. Something was on her mind, he could tell. He could feel it in the air between them. The silence that hung around them was heavy. He had been thinking about her a lot lately, about their past, their present, and to his chagrin he also wondered if they had a future together. He had thought he had put that part of his life to rest, but seeing her again stirred up all the old feelings and new ones were growing inside of him. He had been trying so hard to fight it, but it was getting too difficult.
But she was different; her heart was different, he could feel it. How many times have you thought that? He asked himself bitterly. He always thought it would be different, but it never was. She would get scared of their relationship and find a reason to leave. He couldn’t lose her again; it had taken all his strength to recover the last time it had happened. Whether she liked it or not, the old Dawson was dead. He was no longer the naïve, trusting dreamer he had been. At least that’s what he told himself.
Fate disguises itself as home.
“This is the perfect spot!” Joey smiled when she found a picnic table by a small stream. She rushed over to the table and began to unpack the cooler.
Dawson smiled as he watched her quick movements. He let his gaze linger on her before he looked up at the trees overhead. There was a slight breeze rustling through the leaves, creating a song of nature. The sun peaked through the tops of the trees, only allowing a shaft of sunlight to fall on the spot Joey had chosen. The sunlight bounced through her hair, bringing out the red in it. She seemed to glow like a mystical being that had fallen from the heavens. An angel. His angel. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He continued to watch every move she made. The way her hands deftly opened packages and the speed with which she set the table. The familiar pucker of her lips as she concentrated on what she was doing. He noticed something different in the way she moved now. She moved with more ease, more confidence. It was as if she was finally comfortable in her own skin.
She felt Dawson’s eyes on her. Her skin began to prickle with heat and awareness. She had never been this in tune with someone. If his eyes moved, she could feel it. She puckered her lips in concentration; she needed to finish setting the table. Her movements seemed slow and clumsy. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. As she prepared to face him, her stomach clenched nervously. She hadn’t felt this nervous in years. He had always had that affect on her, but why today? Something was different between them. Something in his heart had shifted, but why? Why now?
She turned around and offered him a small smile, “Lunch is served.”
He walked over to where she stood, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped a few inches in front of her; his eyes were full of tenderness and heat. He stuck out his arm, “Come, my lady,” he winked.
She tucked her hand around his arm, “Why, Mr. Leery, I thought you’d never ask.” She batted her eyes at him before she began to giggle. It was a game they used to play. Dawson had seen this movie about the old south and he had gone through a phase. That had been over twenty years ago now.
He “escorted” her to her side of the bench and she sat down daintily, spreading her imaginary skirt around her. Dawson sat down across from her and smiled, “My lady, would you care for rum or white wine?” He indicated the bottles of coke and sprite with a twinkle in his eyes.
She crinkled her brow in feigned though, “Why, Mr. Leery, I would love some white wine.” He poured them both a glass and he pretended to be in deep thought as he swirled it around in his cup.
They continued to play their game throughout the meal. Even though it was light-hearted it felt intimate. Their gazes would collide and linger. They would pause and smile at each other before continuing. She got up and started to clean off the table, she had to make a space between them so she could get some breathing room. He was making her head spin with so many thoughts and feelings. The old feelings were there, but there were also new ones. He got up and reached for the same plate she did, their hands brushed and they both felt a streak of heat tingle up their arm. He quickly moved his hand away; he didn’t want to feel as drawn to her as he did. His desire to turn and take her into his arms was strong, but he pushed it down.
The sky above them started to darken, but they didn’t notice. Dawson was busy pushing his feelings for her away and she was putting all her thoughts into clearing the table. It was time to tell him what she had come here to say before she lost her nerve, “Dawson--I….” She began as raindrops started to fall. They hadn’t brought a car since they had expected it to be a clear and sunny day as the weatherman had predicted. Her words were lost as the wind started to speed up.
“Joey, come on,” Dawson shouted, grabbing her hand. “It looks like it’s going to be bad,”
“What about the cooler?” She asked, her eyes wide in fear. Storms terrified her, they always had.
“Forget it,” He started to run and pulled her close. They reached a little shelter house that had been abandoned years ago. They had played in it as kids and now it was going to protect them from the upcoming storm.
Home is a shelter from storms - all sorts of storms. - William J. Bennett
Shivers wracked Joey’s body as they entered the small shelter house. A crack of thunder shook the house causing her to jump up and move closer to Dawson. His clothes were soaked from the rain, but being close to him made her feel warm and safe. She looked down at their linked hands and marveled over how right it felt to be holding his hand. Her teeth started to chatter. “Let’s move over here,” Dawson indicated the corner farthest from the door, “It may be drier over there.”
She moved stiffly as Dawson gently tugged her hand. They both sat down and he put his arm around her shoulders to help warm her chilled skin. He rubbed her shoulders gently, trying to generate heat. Her insides began to warm and she felt a little dizzy from the emotions it stirred within her. Her childhood friend, the one she had claimed to have an innocent relationship with stirred more passionate feelings in her than anyone else. But it wasn’t simply desire he inspired, he made her feel every emotion known to the universe. She peered up at him and saw his eyes smoldering with desire.
She started to reach up to touch his face, but another crack of thunder shook the house. She gasped in fright, “D-aawson.” Her teeth clacked together.
He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her wet head, “It’s okay, Jo. Everything will be okay.” He started to absently stroke her hair. He had to touch her in some way and this was the most friendly gesture he could imagine. “Remember the hurricane we survived when we were fifteen?” She nodded, “This is nothing compared to that. Just a little thunder-storm.” He reassured her though he wasn’t positive that was true. All that mattered was claming her down. Her safety and sense of security were all that mattered to him.
“We don’t have a closet this time,” She said wryly, but he could feel her smiling against his chest.
“Ah, yes,” he chuckled, “our secret place.”
“Do you ever,” she hesitated, “miss those times?”
“Yeah, Jo, I do.”
She rested her palm against his chest, “What happened to us, Dawson?” She asked quietly.
“We grew up, we moved on.”
“Did we?” She whispered, “Did I? I don’t know anymore.”
“You did, Jo,” His voice was full of pain and tears, “You are-“ he paused, “so different now. You’ve opened yourself up to life and all its possibilities. You don’t wallow in the past, you live for today.” He swallowed the tears clogging his throat, “I never learned to do that.”
“Dawson that isn’t true,” her eyes filled with tears. “You’ve lived your dream. Something I’ve always been afraid to do.”
“The Creek was dedicated to my youth and all the angst that went along with it.” He said bitterly, angry that she had been able to let go of the past, but he couldn’t. He could see the present for what it was, but the past they shared was too precious for him to release.
“You always were the tortured artist. Our pain makes us real and you weren’t afraid to face that reality by reliving the past. I’ve blocked myself from reality for too long, always running from it. Dawson that’s what I need to tell you, I--” another clack of thunder shook the house and her words were lost. It wasn’t the right time to talk about this. Her thoughts were scattered and with each rumble of the storm they scurried away from her even more.
She moved her head up and looked into his tear stained eyes. She reached up and gently wiped away the faint trace of tears that clung to his cheeks. “You feel so much, Dawson.”
“You were always good with words,” He smiled and wiped away her tears.
“Words are just words, Dawson. Emotion holds more impact.” She stared into his eyes, urging him to realize what she was really trying to say to him. How she felt in this moment, how her heart ached with her feelings for him. The desire of her lips to be against his.
As if reading her mind he brought his thumb down and gently brushed her lips. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into him at the same time he leaned into her. His lips gently pressed into hers. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders and she buried her hands in his hair. She brought his head closer as she opened her mouth to receive his kiss and at the same time her heart opened. The rain pounded against the roof of the house, but they didn’t notice. The only thing they could think about was each other and the beating of their two hearts. Everything she was, everything she felt, everything she had was now his. Forever.
Home inspires questions that reside in the heart.
Joey gave Dawson a sidelong glance as they walked towards the woods on the outskirts of Capeside. They hadn’t said much to one another since they had left his house. She had planned this picnic with the intention to tell him what she had been keeping from him for the past month. She wasn’t sure how he’d react, what’d he’d say, what he’d do. Would he even care? Of course he would care, anyone with a heart would. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her and see her as a weak person. He had always admired her strength, but in the past month she had begun to realize that he was a lot stronger than he had ever given himself credit for.
He had worked hard to achieve his dreams and he had lost so much. He had lost his dad, Jen, and for a while her. She hung her head in shame. How had she let that happen? Why didn’t she fight for him as hard as he had always fought for her? Her heart had broken to see him leave, but she had meekly bowed down and let it happen. She had let him leave her dorm room and let her pride stand between them. Then she had chosen to be with Pacey all those years ago, something she had thought she wanted, but the more she was around Dawson the more she realized she had made the easy choice. Pacey had never had the power to break her heart as deeply as Dawson. Watching Pacey leave two years ago had been hard, but it hadn’t been as painful as the thought that Dawson would never give her another chance.
Was it a mistake he would make her pay for the rest of her life? She was in his life, but he wasn’t allowing her into his heart. She was starting to realize that more than anything she wanted to be with Dawson. Had she ever stopped wanting that? It felt like that feeling had always been there, just lying dormant until she was prepared to accept it and everything that came along with it. But was it too late? She had so many questions, but she didn’t know how to ask. She didn’t know how to tell him how she felt about him without telling him what she was going to today. She had been fooling herself to think they could ever be just friends. It wasn't possible as long as they were both unattached.
Dawson noticed that she was watching him just as intently as he was watching her. Something was on her mind, he could tell. He could feel it in the air between them. The silence that hung around them was heavy. He had been thinking about her a lot lately, about their past, their present, and to his chagrin he also wondered if they had a future together. He had thought he had put that part of his life to rest, but seeing her again stirred up all the old feelings and new ones were growing inside of him. He had been trying so hard to fight it, but it was getting too difficult.
But she was different; her heart was different, he could feel it. How many times have you thought that? He asked himself bitterly. He always thought it would be different, but it never was. She would get scared of their relationship and find a reason to leave. He couldn’t lose her again; it had taken all his strength to recover the last time it had happened. Whether she liked it or not, the old Dawson was dead. He was no longer the naïve, trusting dreamer he had been. At least that’s what he told himself.
Fate disguises itself as home.
“This is the perfect spot!” Joey smiled when she found a picnic table by a small stream. She rushed over to the table and began to unpack the cooler.
Dawson smiled as he watched her quick movements. He let his gaze linger on her before he looked up at the trees overhead. There was a slight breeze rustling through the leaves, creating a song of nature. The sun peaked through the tops of the trees, only allowing a shaft of sunlight to fall on the spot Joey had chosen. The sunlight bounced through her hair, bringing out the red in it. She seemed to glow like a mystical being that had fallen from the heavens. An angel. His angel. He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He continued to watch every move she made. The way her hands deftly opened packages and the speed with which she set the table. The familiar pucker of her lips as she concentrated on what she was doing. He noticed something different in the way she moved now. She moved with more ease, more confidence. It was as if she was finally comfortable in her own skin.
She felt Dawson’s eyes on her. Her skin began to prickle with heat and awareness. She had never been this in tune with someone. If his eyes moved, she could feel it. She puckered her lips in concentration; she needed to finish setting the table. Her movements seemed slow and clumsy. She hoped he wouldn’t notice. As she prepared to face him, her stomach clenched nervously. She hadn’t felt this nervous in years. He had always had that affect on her, but why today? Something was different between them. Something in his heart had shifted, but why? Why now?
She turned around and offered him a small smile, “Lunch is served.”
He walked over to where she stood, his eyes never leaving hers. He stopped a few inches in front of her; his eyes were full of tenderness and heat. He stuck out his arm, “Come, my lady,” he winked.
She tucked her hand around his arm, “Why, Mr. Leery, I thought you’d never ask.” She batted her eyes at him before she began to giggle. It was a game they used to play. Dawson had seen this movie about the old south and he had gone through a phase. That had been over twenty years ago now.
He “escorted” her to her side of the bench and she sat down daintily, spreading her imaginary skirt around her. Dawson sat down across from her and smiled, “My lady, would you care for rum or white wine?” He indicated the bottles of coke and sprite with a twinkle in his eyes.
She crinkled her brow in feigned though, “Why, Mr. Leery, I would love some white wine.” He poured them both a glass and he pretended to be in deep thought as he swirled it around in his cup.
They continued to play their game throughout the meal. Even though it was light-hearted it felt intimate. Their gazes would collide and linger. They would pause and smile at each other before continuing. She got up and started to clean off the table, she had to make a space between them so she could get some breathing room. He was making her head spin with so many thoughts and feelings. The old feelings were there, but there were also new ones. He got up and reached for the same plate she did, their hands brushed and they both felt a streak of heat tingle up their arm. He quickly moved his hand away; he didn’t want to feel as drawn to her as he did. His desire to turn and take her into his arms was strong, but he pushed it down.
The sky above them started to darken, but they didn’t notice. Dawson was busy pushing his feelings for her away and she was putting all her thoughts into clearing the table. It was time to tell him what she had come here to say before she lost her nerve, “Dawson--I….” She began as raindrops started to fall. They hadn’t brought a car since they had expected it to be a clear and sunny day as the weatherman had predicted. Her words were lost as the wind started to speed up.
“Joey, come on,” Dawson shouted, grabbing her hand. “It looks like it’s going to be bad,”
“What about the cooler?” She asked, her eyes wide in fear. Storms terrified her, they always had.
“Forget it,” He started to run and pulled her close. They reached a little shelter house that had been abandoned years ago. They had played in it as kids and now it was going to protect them from the upcoming storm.
Home is a shelter from storms - all sorts of storms. - William J. Bennett
Shivers wracked Joey’s body as they entered the small shelter house. A crack of thunder shook the house causing her to jump up and move closer to Dawson. His clothes were soaked from the rain, but being close to him made her feel warm and safe. She looked down at their linked hands and marveled over how right it felt to be holding his hand. Her teeth started to chatter. “Let’s move over here,” Dawson indicated the corner farthest from the door, “It may be drier over there.”
She moved stiffly as Dawson gently tugged her hand. They both sat down and he put his arm around her shoulders to help warm her chilled skin. He rubbed her shoulders gently, trying to generate heat. Her insides began to warm and she felt a little dizzy from the emotions it stirred within her. Her childhood friend, the one she had claimed to have an innocent relationship with stirred more passionate feelings in her than anyone else. But it wasn’t simply desire he inspired, he made her feel every emotion known to the universe. She peered up at him and saw his eyes smoldering with desire.
She started to reach up to touch his face, but another crack of thunder shook the house. She gasped in fright, “D-aawson.” Her teeth clacked together.
He pulled her closer and kissed the top of her wet head, “It’s okay, Jo. Everything will be okay.” He started to absently stroke her hair. He had to touch her in some way and this was the most friendly gesture he could imagine. “Remember the hurricane we survived when we were fifteen?” She nodded, “This is nothing compared to that. Just a little thunder-storm.” He reassured her though he wasn’t positive that was true. All that mattered was claming her down. Her safety and sense of security were all that mattered to him.
“We don’t have a closet this time,” She said wryly, but he could feel her smiling against his chest.
“Ah, yes,” he chuckled, “our secret place.”
“Do you ever,” she hesitated, “miss those times?”
“Yeah, Jo, I do.”
She rested her palm against his chest, “What happened to us, Dawson?” She asked quietly.
“We grew up, we moved on.”
“Did we?” She whispered, “Did I? I don’t know anymore.”
“You did, Jo,” His voice was full of pain and tears, “You are-“ he paused, “so different now. You’ve opened yourself up to life and all its possibilities. You don’t wallow in the past, you live for today.” He swallowed the tears clogging his throat, “I never learned to do that.”
“Dawson that isn’t true,” her eyes filled with tears. “You’ve lived your dream. Something I’ve always been afraid to do.”
“The Creek was dedicated to my youth and all the angst that went along with it.” He said bitterly, angry that she had been able to let go of the past, but he couldn’t. He could see the present for what it was, but the past they shared was too precious for him to release.
“You always were the tortured artist. Our pain makes us real and you weren’t afraid to face that reality by reliving the past. I’ve blocked myself from reality for too long, always running from it. Dawson that’s what I need to tell you, I--” another clack of thunder shook the house and her words were lost. It wasn’t the right time to talk about this. Her thoughts were scattered and with each rumble of the storm they scurried away from her even more.
She moved her head up and looked into his tear stained eyes. She reached up and gently wiped away the faint trace of tears that clung to his cheeks. “You feel so much, Dawson.”
“You were always good with words,” He smiled and wiped away her tears.
“Words are just words, Dawson. Emotion holds more impact.” She stared into his eyes, urging him to realize what she was really trying to say to him. How she felt in this moment, how her heart ached with her feelings for him. The desire of her lips to be against his.
As if reading her mind he brought his thumb down and gently brushed her lips. Once. Twice. Three times. Her eyes fluttered shut and she leaned into him at the same time he leaned into her. His lips gently pressed into hers. Her hands wrapped around his shoulders and she buried her hands in his hair. She brought his head closer as she opened her mouth to receive his kiss and at the same time her heart opened. The rain pounded against the roof of the house, but they didn’t notice. The only thing they could think about was each other and the beating of their two hearts. Everything she was, everything she felt, everything she had was now his. Forever.