IS / WAS

iii. was

I had to look hot. Unfortunately, that didn't happen often.

The best I could do was reinforce Celeste's supposed lesbian stereotype. This included the skinniest jeans and the least plaid-like plaid I owned. Still not hot. I guess I better just depend on my ukulele and hope for the best.

✿

Right before I brought my finger to Celeste's doorbell (don't even get me started on her house), I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. Ding-dong.

I waited a few seconds before Celeste opened the door. It took all I had to not collapse right there and then. Her dark hair was braided down her left shoulder and her eyebrow raise did awful things to my knees.

"You showed up," she said, trying not to smile. "I was hoping you wouldn't."

"Ouch, Cece, that hurts."

"Did you just call me Cece?"

By the look in Celeste's eyes, I knew I was wading in dangerous waters. ". . . no."

"Don't call me Cece."

"I won't if you let me in," I offered.

Celeste huffed, stepping out of the doorway so I could step inside. "So goddamn smooth," she muttered.

"So, it's just you here?" I asked as she led me up the stairs.

"Yeah, I guess," Celeste opened the door to her room and beckoned me to follow her in. "My parents are rarely home, so," she said, sitting herself on her bed.

I raised my eyebrows. "What are you implying?"

Celeste snorts, rolling her eyes. "Nothing, Jess. Get your mind out of the gutter."

I couldn't help but grin - this girl was way too cute to handle. "Well," I got next to her and set my ukulele case onto my lap. "I can't help it. Sorry not sorry."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

There was a beat. Celeste's mouth hung slightly open, her eyes burnt through mine. I probably looked terrified. I knew I was scared shitless. Then Celeste averted her eyes and I let out a breath I didn't know I was even holding.

"Okay!" I said, pounding the ukulele case. "I guess I better hear what I came for!"

"Fuck," Celeste frowned. "I was hoping you would forget that, too."

"Well, too bad, 'cause I didn't," I said, leaning back against her headboard. "Now play."

She bit her lip (could she like . . . not), reaching over me (I tried not to get a lady boner from the warmth she radiated) and grabbing the guitar she was trying to hide from me yesterday (surefire way to make Jess Levine swoon: be Celeste Hale holding a guitar).

"Okay," she sighed. "Playing."

"You're not playing."

"I'm getting there!"

" . . . still not playing."

"Fine, fine!" Celeste's fingers organized themselves into what I vaguely recognize as a guitar's D chord. And she was strumming, bobbing her head slightly. She shifted into an A chord and went on, changing chords every so often.

"Sing," I told her. I could barely hear my own voice over my heart beating so quickly.

"I can't - "

"Sing," I repeated.

She rolled her eyes. "Put your lips close to mine / As long as they don't touch / Out of focus, eye to eye / Till the gravity's too much . . . "

My eyes fluttered closed; Celeste's voice was like a warm biscuit for my ears (sorry, is my Southern showing?).

"And I'll do anything you say / If you say it with your hands / And I'd be smart to walk away / But you're quicksand . . . "

Can you just. Fuck me.

"This slope is treacherous / This path is reckless / This slope is treacherous / And I, I, I, like it . . . "

My eyes opened slightly and I found Celeste's head bobbing with more fervor, her hair was falling over her face. I watched her hands; they were moving as if they had minds of their own. Jerky, all over the place - very different from how I played. Unlike me, very hot.

"Hello? Earth to Jess!" Celeste snapped her fingers in front of my face.

"Hm?" I said dreamily.

Celeste's smirk made my toes curl. "You okay?"

"Yes."

"It was awful, wasn't it."

"Are you serious right now?" I cupped my face between my palms. "You slayed it, dude. Damn."

"I appreciate the tone of surprise," she said. "Now it's your turn."

"Excuse me?"

"Why else would you have brought your ukulele?" she asked pointedly, jerking her head toward the case.

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." I clicked the case open and brought out my ukulele. The dark wooden thing was like another appendage as soon as it was in the crook of my elbow. "What - what should I sing?"

"Anything you want."

This was it. I better be hot.

I strummed. I didn't even have to think. My fingers just knew they had to be slow and gentle (don't take that out of context, thanks) and my vocal cords just went along."Quand il me prend dans ses bras / Il me parle tout bas / Je vois la vie en rose . . . "

This time, Celeste's mouth definitely hung open. Her eyes widened a fraction and she gulped. Her hand found its way to her hair. Was Celeste Hale blushing?

"Il me dit des mots d'amour / Des mots de tous les jours / Et ça m' fait quelque chose / Il est entré dans mon coeur / Une part de bonheur / Dont je connais la cause . . . "

I sung and strummed some more, trying not to laugh and cry and faint at the expression on Celeste's face.

When I sang in English, Celeste's expression stayed the same. "Hold me close and hold me fast / The magic spell you cast / This is la vie en rose / When you kiss me, heaven sighs / And though I close my eyes / I see la vie en rose . . . "

And was it just me or was Celeste very tempted to la vie en rose me to the pont if no return?

"Give your heart and soul to me / And life will always be / La vie en rose . . . "

"You just sang. In French," she said, her eyes wide.

"I did," I replied.

"That was really good."

"Thanks."

"And really cute."

"I try."

"And actually kinda hot."

"Hot?"

"Yeah."

I cleared my throat. Celeste was a lot closer to me than she was a few seconds ago. Her cinnamon-apple scent wafted towards me, sending me into a slight trance.

"What am I doing?" she asked.

"I don't know; what are you doing?"

"I don't know."

"Do you - d'you like what - what you're doing?"

"I don't know."

"I do."

"I'm doing it anyway."

"Good."

And this is when Celeste fucking Hale kissed me straight on the lips. (That pun was as intended as your birth.)

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a short note from julia: ur turn summer