Wildfire (Demi Lovato)

SIXTEEN

Everything I need,
Is standing right in front of me.
-

Epilogue

"Is this the last of the boxes babe?"

"It is. I can't believe we're finally doing this." You sigh, gazing out on to the scenic garden you had woken up to everyday for the past two years. Just like the familiar, thin pair of arms that wound around your waist.

"I'm so happy."

"Me too." Turning in her hold, you met her lips with a soft kiss. "I'm sad to be leaving though. This is the first place I've felt home."

"But now we get to make a home together." Meeting her lips again, you held her close for a few more minute before finally releasing and taking her hands with a sigh.

"Time to go."

"One more thing." She interrupts, pulling you down to the foyer. "I know you're sad about leaving. The minute you stepped foot in this place, you fell in love with it, which is probably why you moved in so quick." Rolling your eyes with a playful scoff, you watched her cheeky grin. "You really don't have to pretend you're not sad, because I am too. So now for one last time, let's head around this house and in every room, you're gonna tell me your favourite memory we have in that room. Ready?"

"Do you know how much I love you?"

"I got a bit of an idea last night." Her eyes fluttered with a wink before she held your hand once again and lead you into the pure white kitchen. "What are you thinking of?"

-

"Dem? Baby, I brought dinner." Faint footsteps pattered along the floor as you skipped along the marble floors and into the kitchen, armed with Chinese food and in hunt of your girlfriend. "Babe?"

Your calls were met with silence, no sign of your brunette love that you had only called twenty minutes ago.

Before you could go explore another area of the house, a soft whimper echoed from the corner of the kitchen. "Baby?" Hesitantly tip-toeing across the cold floor, your heart ached when the hunched over figure of your girlfriend appeared from behind the kitchen island. "Dem? Demi, what's wrong?" At your presence, her cries only became louder. "Come here baby."

With no fight, she allowed herself to be held tight in your arms, letting her cries be known and her tears show.

You allowed her to cry, holding her tight enough to know you were there when she was ready. So when her sniffles died down and her figure was only shaking in your arms, you spoke. "What's wrong, huh? What happened?"

"I- I-" A nimble figure stretched from her palm, pointing to the corner of the room, where a tall bottle of red wine stood. "I d- didn't. I promise I didn't."

"Hey, hey, it's okay!" You hushed, hoping she didn't splutter enough to cause another panic attack. "I believe you, it's okay Demi."

"I just- everything got too much and I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself. The important thing is you didn't. You're here, you're sober and you're going to be ok."

"I am?" Her words weren't the slightest bit convincing.

"You are. I've got you, Demi."