Juliet's POV
"Thanks for coming tonight, Shawn, it meant a lot."
"Any time, Jules. I can't say I didn't enjoy it."
What did he just say? I felt a heat rise to my cheeks, I didn't dare dignify it with a response. Instead, I pretended to be very interested in my toes.
I saw his hand reach for the door knob, and suddenly, it all came tumbling out.
"Shawn, I..."
"Jules, there's something you should..."
Our words overlapped, and shock and surprise flooded me.
"You first." I said.
"No, you."
"I said it first."
"Ladies first, everyone knows that."
"Fine."
I took in a deep breath, desperately wishing I came up with a plan. Remembering all the confidence I felt with him a few moments earlier, I mustered up all my courage, took a step closer to him, and looked him directly in the eye.
"Shawn, do you remember what you said earlier?"
A dark pink crept onto his cheeks, and he looked at the floor.
"Yeah."
"Well, I should've said something earlier, but, a few moments ago, I felt something. I don't know what, but I felt... confident. Like I could do anything. It was the same thing I felt when you came into the diner and I stole your spot on the first day we met. The same thing as when you helped clear Tancana's name 3 years ago, and you established "very close talking. And when you tracked down Scott, even though I didn't even ask you to. And throughout all that, even, when you accused my brother of murder, you were still so supportive, and kind, and you always had my back. And I don't know many people that would do that for me. My point is," I trailed off, not knowing how to say it, confused, scared, but then I saw a sparkle in his eye, and I thought it might've been a tear, and suddenly I felt all of the confidence and strength come to me.
"What I'm trying to say is, I love you. I love everything about you. How fist-clenching annoying you can be, yet charming and successful at the same time. I love your kind heart, and how deeply you care about everyone. I love..."
I stopped. He had slowly edged closer to me throughout my monologue, and now, only a few inches separates us. He interrupted me by wrapping his arms around my waist, and colliding his lips against mine. I thought I would've collapsed, had he not been holding me so tight.
Finally. Finally.
I kissed him back, so passionately, thinking of how many times I had dreamed of this, how many times I'd cried because he was dating Abigail, how much he had simply cared for me, how many times I had fantasized about kissing him, and planted it all on his lips. I thought I had known perfection, but this, this, was another level of perfect.
Reluctantly, I pulled away, maintaining forehead contact, and whispered.
"What we're you going to say?"
"That I felt the exact same way about you." He kissed me again, picked me up and carefully laid me on the couch, where the best moments of my life had been. I giggled, and he laid on top of me, and I felt him smile against my lips.
I could get used to this. I thought. I smiled, thinking about how lucky I was to be sitting here, kissing Shawn Spencer, who probably had dozens of girls texting him, begging to meet up on a Friday night. Everything felt so right, so complete. Even though I tried, there was only one word I could describe this moment with.
Perfect.
