Gold Dust Woman (Stanford Pines x OC)

28.) Songbird

and i love you, i love you, i love you like never before

  "That's not it," She groans, the keys making a harsh sound as she gently pushes her fist down. "Come on, lady, get it together."

  "Only you would start writing before you even make it to New York," Ford says from the doorway, half-asleep.

  "I've been waiting for this for so long," She turns around. "This is big, it's not some little musical thing, this is about the book I've only read, what? Like ten thousand times? The other adaptations are shit, mine has to be the best. Half of them don't even bring up the fact that Daisy has a baby. Stupid shit."

  "Come back to bed, Cel. Geez, I don't think I've ever said that before," He hums. "Let me hold you for a few more hours."

  "I know, it's always been me being the little begging wife I am, asking you to come to bed with me." She laughs, standing up slowly.

  "Maybe. Or maybe I just realized that these moments are worth holding onto, especially when everything else feels like it's slipping away." He smiles softly, taking her hand and pulling her gently toward him. She sighs, letting herself lean into him, resting her head against his chest.

  "Here, come with me first." She takes his hand before she begins to drag him to the piano.

  His tired eyes are obvious as she sits down and he joins her. It's comfortable silence as she places his hands on the keys. She plays first, a song they used to play together all the time. He joins in like it's second nature. He sees her cute smile in the corner of his eyes and his heart bursts.

  Ford's fingers glide over the keys as if no time has passed since they last played together. The familiar melody fills the room, soft and nostalgic, wrapping around them like a shared memory. Celia hums softly, her smile growing wider, and Ford can't help but feel a warmth he hasn't felt in a long time.

  As they continue, his eyes drift to her face, catching the soft way she concentrates on the notes. The music flows naturally between them, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed, like the weight of the world doesn't hang over them. When the song fades out, Celia lets out a small, content sigh.

  "I've missed this," She whispers, her fingers still resting on the keys.

  "Me too. It feels...right," Ford nods, his voice quiet. "See, Cel, you always feel right. Everything about you, involving you, just you."

  Her hands rest on his leg as he turns to face her, cradling her face and holding her like she's the most precious thing in the world. He leans down to press his lips to hers, pushing the hair out of her face. She tastes sweet, she always does somehow. And she's warm. Her lips fit so perfectly with his, it drives him crazy.

  Celia's lips, every small breath of hers, every gentle sigh, drive him crazy. She is everything to him. She feels like summer. She feels like driving down the coast, like having a quick coffee and then meeting in the shower, like accidentally bumping heads during sex and then laughing so softly.

  Ford lingers close, his breath warm against her skin as he kisses the corner of her lips, savoring the moment. Celia's hands tighten slightly on his leg, her eyes fluttering open, meeting his gaze. There's a tenderness in the way she looks at him, a softness that pulls at his heart.

  "You always do that," She murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper, "Kiss the corner of my lips."

  "It's because I never want to let go. I don't want to pull away completely. Like...I'm trying to stay, even when I know I can't." Ford smiles, his forehead resting gently against hers. Celia closes her eyes again, exhaling softly as she leans into him.