Sweep Me Off My Feet

Finale: I've Been Meaning To Do This

Shai

I’ve never been to a wedding more beautiful.

Jacob and Samara’s love is too perfect for me to fathom, they’re a couple I know will stay together forever. It’s inevitable, right? The reception was especially fun. Both their families together, as one. All the funky pictures that were taken, the activities—oh god, the activities, don’t get me started. I tried to pretend to act like I wanted to catch the bouquet, but I really didn’t want to—not after watching Ray catch the garter. So you know, I throw my hands lazily in the air like ‘oh haaaay, I’m so totally tryna catch this’—but when I actually did…you can say I’m still mad! But not that mad, it’s just that, it fell directly into my hands. Come on son, what were the chances of that?!

And must I remind you of Ray and his extra a.ss? No words, no words at all. He’s such a supporter of PDA, I swear.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t let me drive,” Ray snorted as he locked the front door to the condo behind us. “Because, you thought it was just oh-so-cool to have like what? Six glasses of wine?”

“Booo, you’re no fun,” he justified himself. “Correction, I’m safe,” I pointed out as we semi-awkwardly stood in the foyer. My throat was a little parched, I found myself taking a trip to the kitchen.

The light of the fridge washed over my face bleakly as I squinted. The pitcher still had some lemonade in; the rest is mine! Sipping from my cup, my eyes followed Ray as he lazily walked into the living room. We got that lazy eye contact thing, and he half smiled as he raised his index to make the come hither movement at me. I smiled on the rim of my cup.

“What?”

He turned and started walking toward that little room I know way too well. I hesitated a little before I lifted off my leaned position on the counter. I padded over, walking through the hall-way, leaning on the doorframe, just like I had just a few months past. Really just feels like a few weeks ago.

“Déjà vu, huh?” Ray commented as he lifted the top of piano. I still didn’t understand his point of me being here. It’s pretty late and I’m drained. I want my bed. “You need me to hear a new song or something?” I asked him.

“It’s not necessarily new,” he admitted, looking up at me, he patted his lap, “come.” I suspiciously peeled myself off the door frame and trudged over to him. I laughed as he yanked me onto his lap. I know I’m crushing that twig he calls a thigh so I have no clue why he put himself through all the trouble. He snaked his arms around my waist to where his fingers could touch the ivory keys.

He started to play and the accustomed tune started to flood my ears—I couldn’t help but smile. “Weren’t you supposed to play this for Jacob and Samara?” I asked him, I remembered him saying that, that night. “I lied,” he replied, his steady playing was faultless.

“Mind explaining?” I twisted my neck back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Jacob never asked me to write him a song. I wrote the song based off of pure inspiration,” he explained himself.

“So what was the point of lying?” I was dumbstruck.

“Well… YOU were the inspiration. How creepy would it be if I had said ‘I got up and wrote this cause you stay in my thoughts non-stop’?” He chuckled, as his playing ceased. 

I closed my eyes, smiling really big. I was so flattered; I had never had a song written for me before.

I just thought it was so cute that he had lied about that so long ago, but now he’s able to say it loud and proud.

“Look, I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend and everything,” he started, trying to configure his word choice. “You don’t have to—“ I tried to tell him but he wouldn’t have it. “No, no, hear me out,” he sounded determined.