Drabble: Happy ones
Drabble: Happy ones #1
Rating: PG-13 (at the moment)
Disclaimer: Not mine, not yours, not any of ours.
Summary: A series of happy drabbles, will be added as the author sees fit.
Note: Soooo…. This is the first ‘happy drabble’ from my “happy” folder. I’ll post some more later on… I’m not going to pimp it out till I post at least enough to make it a worthwhile post. I posted three thus far, and links can be found in the masterlist. I thought since I made several people cry with the angst, I should spread some joy. Enjoy my attempt at ‘happiness’. And tell me you love me.
She watched him from behind her curtain of hair as he turned page after page of the script on his lap. His brows would furrow at some parts and his eyes would scan the dialogue more rapidly, his fingers already twitching to turn to the next page. Then he’d smile, or chuckle lightly, and it took everything in her to turn her gaze back towards her own pile of scripts and not crawl next to him and see what’s so interesting.
She sighed and tossed whatever she’s been reading to the side. It was the third script that week that she had disregards without even finishing, and she truly wondered what the fuck her agent was thinking. She begrudgingly slid over the next batch of papers and started over.
She was pleasantly surprised at the sequence of events narrated through this particular script, so much so that she had made little note here and there as her thoughts began to form in tangent to what the script tried to convey. It was only when her eyes started to ache and her reading glasses had slip a little bit too low on the bridge of her nose that she broke away from her concentration and notice the silence.
There weren’t any rustling of pages, no chuckles or quiet sighs, or any little slurp that he usually made when he’s drinking beer from a bottle.
She lifted her gaze curiously across the room to find him watching her. He wore a curious expression, one that she’s never seen before and she immediately sat up straighter and took off her glasses.
“What is it?”
His mouth lifted slightly, but it barely erased the apprehension settling deep within her stomach nor did it erased the seriousness in his eyes and the set of his locked jaw.
For a minute, she sat there, cautiously looking at him as his gaze seem to drink her in.
“Robert, what’s wrong?” she finally asked.
“ I love you,” he whispered in a tone that reminded her of a little boy about to lose something precious. Quiet and resigned.
“ I love you too,” and by now she had cleared away the papers in front of her, ready to leap across the room and push away the sudden pressure that seems to build between them.
He took a deep breath and with a whisper as quiet as his butterfly kisses, said, “Marry me.”
His words caught her breath and she felt her heart stop before it picked up again in a rhythm she wasn’t familiar with.
“What did you just say?”
“Marry me,” he had made his way towards her, his tone still cautious, but his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes trapped her to him as he cradled her face between his palms.
“ I love you. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll always love you,” he softly said, his mouth a breath away from hers.
“Marry me,” he demanded, he requested, he plead.
Looking into his eyes, she could see her own eyes reflecting back, and she knew that she’s all he could see just as he was all she could see.
“Yes,” her mouth softly brushed against his.
*
Part Two