Prettier in Purple // A Duckie Dale Story

1) .Three in the Morning.

(Edited)

.Three in the Morning.

~Queenie~

A hard knock on my window woke me from my sleep. I flipped over, refusing to open my eyes, hoping I just invented the sound. Sadly, the bang came again, and my eyes popped open. All I got as a view was a big blurry blob of purple that made up my room. Yes, I absolutely adore the color purple. It made up most of what I owned, including some of my clothes. Duckie always said it was cute how much I loved the color purple. That was only because he remembered how much Andie always wore pink. I took my glasses off the bedside table and slipped them on, the world suddenly becoming clear.

There was the son of a gun himself, standing outside my window with his dashing smile, his perfect black tuft of hair on his head under a black fedora and his round, Elton John sunglasses that sat on his nose, covering his chocolate brown eyes. What was he doing wearing sunglasses in the middle of the night? I checked my windup clock that was also on my bedside table. Yep, three o'seven. I was going to kill him for this one. I walked over to the window, unlatched the lock and popped it open a couple inches, enough to talk to him, but not let him in.

"When did you start locking your window, love?" Duckie asked, using his normal nickname for me, stooping down to meet my eye level. His blue glasses prevented me to see what he was looking at, but the way I tried to prevent my face from heating up told me that his eyes were staring right at mine. In my small, two level home, I lived in the basement, so in order to reach my window, you had to pry up the bars guarding it and drop a few feet into the little water well. The bars were long gone when Duckie and I became friends. He used to sneak into my room every night when we were kids. I shot my friend a smirk.

"When I started having creepos waking me up at three in the morning," I responded. Duckie put a hand over his heart in fake offence.

"Is that any way to treat your childhood friend who would walk here whenever there was a rainstorm to comfort you?" 

I rolled my eyes. That only happened because he was afraid of the thunder. "What do you want, Duckie?" I asked him instead.

"It's cold out here," he complained. "Let me in, love?" 

I raised an eyebrow, not ready to let him in and wanting to hear the whole story. 

Duckie moved his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose till I could finally see his beautiful eyes. My stomach flipped. "Do I really need an excuse to see my Queenie?" 

I shook my head in dismay, disappointed in myself. Damn my stupid heart. I cracked the window open a little more and moved to the side to let my best friend through before closing it again, not daring lock it just in case I needed to make a quick escape. Duckie collapsed on my twin sized bed and stretched out with a sigh. I leaned over him and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Duckie," I warned. "Get out of my bed." 

He waved a dismissive hand. "Bah, you can fit." 

"We aren't seven anymore, Duck," I reminded him. 

That didn't stop him and he reached a hand up and grabbed my wrist, pulling me down on top of him. I squealed. He wrapped his strong arms around me so I couldn't get off of him and was cuddling him instead. My entire face went red when I realized how close I was to him.

"See," Duckie said. "We fit." 

I snorted and shifted to the side so I wasn't on top of him anymore, but next to him instead. Finally then, my face temperature went down. We sat like that for a while, cuddling, Duckie and I. At first it was awkward, but once I relaxed, I felt like I was a kid in fifth grade again. Around me, Duckie was always a lot more calm, treated me like a real person and not an object. I guess that's why I loved him so much. Duckie removed his fedora and put it over his eyes, as if he were asleep. I laughed slightly and slipped from his grasp, sitting up and gazing at him for a moment to see if he'd notice. He didn't maybe he was really asleep?

"So why are you really here, Duckie?" I wondered. "You don't usually just swing by to sleep in my bed. You have your own, you know." 

Duckie peaked his hat up and threw me his award winning smile. 

My heart pounded.

"What?" he asked. "Is coming to see you really that bad?" 

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest again. That was something that usually happened when I was around Duckie. He just didn't seem to know how to tell the truth. Duckie sighed and put his hat back over his eyes. 

"Fine ..." he started. "Andie was hanging around some richie, and I don't like him. He's gonna hurt her just like they all do."

"What's his name?"

"Blane," he told me. "Don't you think that sounds like some sort of appliance?" 

I laughed. It did sound like some sort of appliance, but I knew the kid. There was nothing appliancy about him. He was nice and I doubted he was going to break Andie's heart. But he was a richie. Who knew what kind of things he was playing with her. 

Duckie turned, returning his hat on his head and leaning on his hand. "You're calculating again, love..." he said. "That can never be good." I rolled my eyes.

"Blane's a good kid," I replied, ignoring his comment. "From what I know of him. If he dares break Andie's heart, he'll have me to mess with." 

Duckie grinned. 

I peered at him, uncertain as to what he would say next. "What?"

"Nothing," he promised. "You're just so kind." 

I raised an eyebrow. 

"You always seem to see the best in people, even if they're jerks." 

I grinned and sat down again next to him. "That's because I don't think everyone is trying to steal my girl like you do," I told him, poking a finger into his stomach lightly. 

Duckie laughed and I joined him. He delicately took my hand and started playing with the ring on my fingers. There was one band that matched one of his own, a sign of friendship. I wore it on my right ring finger and never took it off. Duckie slipped it off and clutched it in his palm, holding it up to the light.

"Isn't it funny how, so many years ago, we gave these to each other and you still haven't changed hand sizes a bit?" 

I nodded. It was true. I wasn't very tall and hadn't grown since seventh grade. My hands hadn't grown since what seemed like third. Duckie's on the other hand had went from his thumb, traveling down his fingers till it was now sitting nicely on his right pinky finger. He handed me the ring back and looked at his own. 

"Not many people stay friends for this long, love," he noticed. "What makes us different?" 

I grinned. "What can I say. We were made for each other." 

Duckie chuckled.  "I suppose we are." 

The words melted my heart, but I knew what he had meant by it. We always and forever would be friends. And that was it. I sighed, sadly, wishing I could give up.

~~~

Word Count : 1295