Protected

Fire

We got home at around eleven. Zay, Josh, and Farkle were in the living room watching Guardians of the Galaxy: Vol 2. Farkle stood up to meet Riley.

"How was it?" he asked.

"AMAZING!" Riley cried.

"Tell me what happened," Farkle said. I ginned at him and walked upstairs to find Lucas.

I checked the library, the gym, and the game room, but he wasn't there. I finally checked his bedroom, and he was sitting on the bed, wiping mud off of the top of his shoes. He looked up as I came in and grinned. He looked at the shopping bags that filled my arms.

"What did you get?" he asked, kissing me quickly, then sitting back down on the bed.

"You wouldn't care," I said, setting the bags down.

He made a show of crossing his legs and looking at me with intense interest, "I have a greater capacity for fashion than you think," he said.

I laughed, "Fine. If you insist," I said.

I went into the closet and put on the red mini dress, the one that Riley said went with my hair. I walked out and twirled in a circle.

"What do you think?" I asked.

He looked up at me, almost reverently. Like I was a miracle, or something.

"You are so beautiful," he said, crossing the room quickly and pulling me to him. He pressed me to himself by the small of my back and crushed our lips together. I threaded my hands through his hair and tried to get closer to him, but I couldn't. We were already pressed up as close to each other as we could be. His lips were warm, and soft, and we collapsed on the bed together, still kissing. I had one arm around his neck and the other in his hair, with both of his arms around my waist. I finally broke away, gasping for air, breathless.

He smiled at me, and pressed his lips to mine again, and for a moment, I forgot my own name. I forgot where I was, and who I was, and everything except for Lucas, and his arms around my waist, and his lips on mine.

He pulled away to catch his breath.

"Do you have any idea of how much I love you?" He asked.

I shrugged, "Only that I love you more."

He shook his head, "No way."

We sat like that, in silence, for a while. Then, I remembered that I wanted to ask him something.

"Hey, Lucas," I said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything," he said, kissing my nose.

"I went into your secret room, a while back. I looked at one of the notebooks. It was labeled Her. I read a poem..." I trailed off. He had gone still and quiet. I looked at his face, wondering if he was angry.

"You saw that?" he said.

I nodded.

A smile curled his lips, "Did you like it?"

"Are you kidding me? It was beautiful. The most beautiful I've ever heard, actually," I said.

Lucas smiled and jumped off the bed. He crossed the room to the dresser, where he slid one of the drawers open and dug his hand under a pile of clothes. He pulled a thin sheaf of paper out from under it and came back to sit on the bed next to me to unfold it.

"My favorite poem," he said, 'Do you mind?"

"Go ahead," I said.

"This life that we call our own; Is neither strong nor free; A flame in the wind of death; It trembles ceaselessly. And this all we can do; to use our little light; Before, in the piercing wind, It flickers into night. To yield the heat of the flame; to grudge not, but to give. Whatever we have of strength, that one more flame may live," He finished, and he put the paper back under the pile of clothes.

"That was beautiful..." I said. 

"Just like you," he traced my lips with his finger.

He curled up next to me, and we fell asleep.