“Amelia Jessica Pond! We have got to go now!”
Amelia barely has time to set down her dolls, much less to hide in the closet, before Aunt Sharon stomps into the bedroom. The stormy look on her aunt’s face would make any normal nine-year-old girl cower and quickly comply. Amelia is no normal nine-year-old girl.
“I’m not ready, and my shoes have
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AWWWWWWH!! omgiloveher.
Aunt Sharon peers into the closet, then crosses to the open window and looks down. “It is truly startling how often my petunias end up looking like your loafers, Amelia,” she comments sharply, turning to face her niece and crossing her arms.
BAHAHAHAHA. I am already so in love with this fic.
“I’m Rory,” he says, extending a hand, “and I like your hair.”
HEE. Boys are so... simple. <333
“Dad’s room is upstairs, I’ll just go check, I’ll be right back,” he says, turning away from the girl.
“No!” Rory stops so quickly that Amelia runs right into him and they almost fall. He is about to ask if she’s okay when she lurches to catch his arm and rushes on, “I mean, can’t I just…can I come with you?”
*wibbles* Ohhhhhhhh, Amy.
she is afraid of words like “dating” and “boyfriend,” but also that he was her first kiss (and her only second kiss).
Yes. This. Perfect.
“Come back,” he hears her whisper again as he turns to leave the garden. She’ll come to him when she’s ready, he knows, and if he is lucky he will have figured out by then what to be for her.
When she yells after him it is not with the volume or the confidence he is used to, and her voice cracks on the last word: “Rory, I was talking to you, you idiot.”
*gesticulates frantically in an excited manner* I DON'T EVEN. THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY. I mean, so sad, but OHHHH.
I love this I love this I love this. SO MUCH.
...DID I MENTION I'M MEM'ING THIS?
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I looooved writing them as kids. Extra yay if it came out well! Ha. Also eeeeee I'm so happy you liked the end part! I was a bit proud of it. :)
Thanks for all the kindness friend! ♥
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