Mr. Write [COMPLETED]

Epilogue

The sound of excited murmurs filling the air, mixed with the scent of ink and bitter coffee and kept Elliot and Beck company as they waited. The sight of rows and rows of books filled their vision. Around them, pictures displayed worlds to be discovered beneath the hard covers. The book store rose up another level and people on the second story glanced over the railing and down on the gathering crowd. Elliot slid her arms around Beck's neck and he instantly responded by wrapping his arms around her waist. His hold on her was steady and sure.

"The first book signing. Are you nervous?" she asked.

"Terrified," he said. "I hear dedicated fans can get vicious."

"It's true. You wouldn't believe the horror stories I have from my book signings."

"Tell me," he said, pulling her closer.

"Can you really bear to hear what could possibly be out there, right now? I've faced it before but I don't know if you can."

He gave a soft chuckle as his lips brushed her cheek and his words slipped into her ears.

"I think I'm strong enough to hear a few of these traumatic stories."

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," Elliot said.

Beck pulled back and looked at her. For a breath, she didn't speak but stared into his blue eyes. Eyes she had grown to know every facet of. Learned to read every expression, but still felt there were things to discover.

"Once," she said, in a low, conspiratorial voice, "a girl actually cried when she saw me."

Beck's eyes went wide and his eyebrows shot up. "No!"

"Yup, burst into tears before me. Before I even got the chance to sign her book, or even ask if my writing was that bad."

Beck squeezed her waist and she laughed.

"Tell me more," he said.

"Why? Do you have a liking for terrifying events?"

"No, I like your voice and the way your eyes light up when a joke is coming."

Despite all the time they had been together, Elliot still felt her heart start up a kick line at his words. She pulled on serious expression and stared directly at him.

"This is no joking matter," she said.

"Of course not."

"One girl brought a knife," Elliot said. "And a cake. She asked if I wanted a piece."

"I can see how that would be truly devastating."

"Truly."

"Yes, considering how your family hates the use of utensils."

Elliot waved a hand. "She just flaunted the knife right in my face."

"I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead, his lips warm. "I can tell that memory still haunts you."

"It does, especially since I didn't get to eat the cake because my shock was too overwhelming."

"Your life is so rough. What else should I be prepared for besides an onslaught of tears, undecided whether they are positive or negative, and a baker with no consideration for the phobias of other's?"

"Well," she let out a breath and a shutter, "this is the most shocking truth of all."

She took a breath in and Beck rushed to speak before her words could escape.

"Can I really handle this, El? I know what I said but, you never know."

Though his expression remained serious, in his eyes his laughter had fallen over and doubled up with cramps. Elliot placed a hand on his cheek, moving her thumb over his thin stubble.