Just To Have You

Chapter One

A/N: Hey guys, so this is my first story on wattpad. This was previously updated onto Booksie, but I never got around to finishing it. So now, I've edited what I've done so far and hope to finish it on here. It has a lotttttt of flashbacks and goes from present to past, so if you get confused about anything, let me know. I hope you like it, I'm quite nervous to be honest. Please let me know what you think, and how I can improve of course. Enjoy! :)

-AsherStorm

I was in my car, driving as fast as I possibly could without getting a ticket, when the call came. I couldn’t exactly pull over, seeing as the major highway I was on was one of the busiest of Los Angeles, and my piece of shit car didn’t provide luxuries such as Bluetooth. My car was the butt of numerous jokes between Parker and I, whom I was so desperately rushing to meet. I’d always joke about the ancient Toyota with him, complaining about the spring in my seat that always hurt my butt, or the crappy radio system that only played tapes.  He’d always joke back, pulling me close and rubbing my butt, saying he’d always be there to make it better. It never failed to earn an eye roll out of me, as I routinely pushed him away and asked him what he was going to do about the actual shit car itself. He’d usually answer back with a typical Parker response, filled with sarcasm and irresistible humor; however, I’ll never forget the one time where his response didn’t follow the usual light hearted joking I was used to. I was still in his arms when his beautiful eyes, a mix of teal and navy, framed by thick lashes, stared straight into my plain brown ones. His eyes were always the reason I forgave him so quickly in anything he did, he would just turn that gaze on me, and I was helpless. He stared at me for a moment, and slowly, lovingly, kissed my forehead. He pulled back only an inch, so I could feel his warm, minty breath on my face, and said, “I would give you the world if I could, Erin, you know that, right?”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. Parker wasn’t the serious type, or the cheesy, for that matter. He was always the one who kept himself at a distance. It wasn’t like he was this cold, unloving boyfriend. No, he was warm and tender and perfect, but he had his share of hard times with the people he loved, and I don’t think he wanted to accept that he loved me, because somewhere inside of him, he thought it would ruin everything.

I knew he loved me though, I could tell by the times I caught him just staring at me. Either while lounging on his couch, or when I ate a burger, which is impossible for me to eat without making an absolute mess. I could tell in the ways he would stroke my hair, kiss my neck, and hold me close when we would sometimes just lie on his bed in the dark, the sound of our favorite bands quietly playing in the background. I would see the adoration and compassion that mirrored my very own thoughts, even though I knew mine were intensified by more than he could understand.

And I could tell in that moment, when he stared at me with those teal-navy eyes, filled with love, speaking words of promise.

I remember looking back at him, trying my absolute hardest to burn the image of him in my mind, his gorgeous face, less than two inches away from my own. I studied his dark brown hair that looked black unless in the sun. I noted the way it never looked neat, no matter how much I would try to brush or tame it. I admired the small piece that always fell in front of his eyes, or the parts in the back of his head that never failed to stick up. I admired his straight, aristocratic nose, his pink lips, which looked firm, but were actually soft to the touch. His hard edged jaw that was scattered with black scruff was another trait I adored. I studied every inch of his face; the scar left over from the gage piercing he got in our junior year of high school, which I convinced him to take out last year. And the angry, now white, scar right above his left eye, which I constantly caressed, always running my hand over the now smooth, jagged line, trying to soothe the pain that wasn’t even there anymore. I don’t know why I was so adamant on taking mental photographs of him in that moment; I was just overcome with this flood of emotion. This feeling that one day, I might not be able to stare at him whenever I pleased. I responded by lifting my hand, moving that one piece of hair that covered his intoxicating eyes, and found that I could only nod. It seemed that I couldn’t speak, so I leaned into him and lightly kissed his lips. He kissed me back, like he always did, and then pulled me into a hug which seemed to last for hours. It wouldn’t be such a memorable day if such things were normal in our relationship. Parker wasn’t exactly the hugging type at the time, which had been our senior year of high school. That was one of the two times I’ve ever seen Parker be so serious, the other being when he first told me about his parents.