Blue Crush fic: What You Do to Me, Anne Marie/Eden
Title: What You Do To Me
Author: Carla
Characters/Pairings: Anne Marie/Eden, Lena, Penny
Rating: General audiences
Word Count: 1300
Summary: Anne Marie loves, and sometimes, love wins.
Anne Marie buys a ring.
It’s simple, not too expensive, just a band, yellow gold with a narrow thread of white gold through the center. She wants to get something etched on the inside, something that will make it special, but whenever she actually sits down to try to figure it out, all her words disappear. She’s supposed to be smart, but - not like this.
It lives in her suitcase when she’s on the road, little black velvet box tucked inside a small cloth bag, wrapped up in a big plastic bag meant for the recycling, and in the back corner of her closet when she’s at home. Eden doesn’t believe in hanging up clothes. She’ll never look there.
They’ve only been officially dating a couple of months, but Anne Marie’s sure about this. Sure about Eden, above all things.
#
Penny makes it through high school by the skin of her teeth, a lot of luck, Lena charming her teachers, and Anne Marie shouting at her to do her homework, go to class, stop messing around, Penny, this is important. Eden is the peacemaker without even trying. Anne Marie yells, Penny screams and slams her bedroom door, and Eden puts her hand on Anne Marie’s shoulder: remember what we did back then?
Anne Marie remembers. She throws up her hands, storms around the house huffing, tries to hide her smile.
Graduation day, Anne Marie holds Penny’s lei, heavy in her hands, the weight of the flowers, the green wet smell clinging to her. She doesn’t cry when Penny walks across the stage, shakes the principal’s hand, but she choke-laughs when Penny grabs her diploma and thrusts it into the air, face turned up to the sun, and her eyes burn. Maybe her cheeks are a little wet.
Penny hugs her hard, painful, the flowers a damp crush between them, and then spins off, grinning and shouting, to join her friends.
Eden’s hand on her hip, fingers just slipping under the edge of her shirt, settles Anne Marie.
#
Lena meets a guy, big hands, belly, sloe-eyed and sweet. He’s just moved over from Kauai, doesn’t like Honolulu much. They’re at a bonfire, Eden wrapped around Anne Marie, Lena cradling her guitar. His dark hair falls into his eyes; Lena laughs, and pushes it back, and plays for him.
They take a long weekend in Kauai, so she can meet his family.
When she comes home, she throws herself into their bed, right between Anne Marie and Eden, and shrieks a little into a pillow.
“I’m gonna marry that man,” she tells them. Promises. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes bright.
#
Six weeks later, Eden and Anne Marie stand up with her on the beach, sunset and the sea at their backs, friends and his big, bold family spread before them, and Penny walks her down the aisle. Lena looks beautiful, Penny shining with joy, and it’s not until she’s drinking beer and dancing with Lena in the firelight that Anne Marie realizes: while they’ve all been swept up in this, Lena’s also been swept away.
#
Penny’s not going to college, and that fight was so epic Eden slept on the beach to get away from them. Penny storms out, crashes with friends, doesn’t come home for three days, and when she does, she says she’s moving out for awhile. She needs some space. She’s got a job on Maui, with a couple of her friends. It’s just a few months.
Anne Marie starts to scream at her, demand she stop throwing away her life, but.
But.
She remembers, viciously, how shitty she felt when their mother took off, and how much worse it would have been without Eden and Lena. Her friends dropped everything, left their homes to save hers so Penny wouldn’t have to move. So Penny could stay put where she felt safe. So Anne Marie wouldn’t lose everything, even when her heart was broken.
She needed her friends, and they came without question. She never asked how their families felt. Well, no, she asked Lena once, and Lena just grinned, slung her arm across Anne Marie’s shoulders, talking about taking in strays.
Eden never said anything one way or another. She was there for Anne Marie. She’d always been there.
Anne Marie squeezes her eyes shut, because this hurts, Penny leaving, in a way that tears into old wounds, closed over but never healed. Penny is not their mother, Anne Marie knows, but the words come hard, stick in her throat.
Still.
She tells her sister she loves her, and she lets go.
#
Anne Marie’s half the world away when Lena calls, voice bubbling over, waking her from sleep. She just got off a plane six hours ago, she’s not really sure if it’s day or not, the curtains are drawn closed in her hotel room, and she’s groggy in the dim light.
“Auntie Annie!” Lena shouts, her voice bright through the phone, a little shaky, and Anne Marie squeezes her fingers around it tight. “When are you coming home?”
“What?” She mumbles, she blinks sleep from her eyes. Lena hasn't called her Annie since they were six years old.
“I’m pregnant.” She can hear Lena’s smile.
That wakes Anne Marie up fast. She stumbles to the bathroom, gets a glass of water, sits cross-legged on the end of the bed. They talk, laugh, cry a little. Anne Marie touches her stomach, thinks.
The ring’s in her suitcase. She hasn’t looked at it in at least a week.
#
She flies home on a Friday. Her layover in NYC is a sea of rainbows, in person, on television, on Facebook. Hawaii did the right thing a couple years back, but Anne Marie tears up anyway, reading the news. All those pictures, people hugging, kissing, laughing, crying. Loving, with all that they are. She sees two proposals, buys drinks for both couples.
By the time she makes it off the plane in Honolulu, she’s been up more than a day. Her eyelashes keep trying to stick together, her mouth tastes stale, and her hair is a tangled, knotty mess.
She’s planning to grab her bag, catch a cab home, crash for the next twelve hours, and then go see Lena.
Eden’s waiting just outside security. Anne Marie blinks, stares, blinks again. They don’t really do this anymore. She’s come and gone so often, it feels common place.
Still, she’s not going to complain, and she’s sure as hell not turning down a hug when Eden reaches for her. Anne Marie drops her carryon and steps into Eden’s arms. She probably smells like hell, but Eden’s great, soap and surfboard wax and coconut oil.
“Marry me,” Eden says, but her face is buried into a tangle of Anne Marie’s hair, and she’s not sure she hears her right. Eden keeps talking before she can pull back, surprised, shocked, confused. “I keep seeing all these people, their wedding pictures, everyone’s so damn happy - you do that to me. I love you. Marry me.”
Anne Marie sniffles and nods, then straightens sharp. “Oh shit,” she says, and punches Eden’s shoulder. “I’ve been - I was going to - I hate you.”
Eden laughs, grabs her hands. “What?”
“Marry me,” Anne Marie asks, even gets down on one knee. She’s wearing shorts. The floor feels gritty and gross. She’s going to regret that later, but that’s it. Nothing else. “I got you a ring, I’ve had it forever, I just couldn’t - the right time - oh god, Eden, I’ve messed it all up.”
“Yes,” Eden says, tugging at her hands until Anne Marie stands up again. “You idiot. Always.”
They kiss before Anne Marie thinks better of it, plane breath and all.
#
They get married at the courthouse a couple weeks later, Penny and Lena their witnesses. Eden wears clean jeans, a brand new tank top. Anne Marie buys a dress, bright flowers, flowy, strappy, short. Penny carries leis from Lena’s family, kisses their cheeks when they duck their heads so she can slip them around their necks.
Anne Marie cries, but the sun shines bright, and her family holds her just so.
This entry was original posted at http://escritoireazul.dreamwidth.org/397462.html with
comments. Reply here or there.
Author: Carla
Characters/Pairings: Anne Marie/Eden, Lena, Penny
Rating: General audiences
Word Count: 1300
Summary: Anne Marie loves, and sometimes, love wins.
Anne Marie buys a ring.
It’s simple, not too expensive, just a band, yellow gold with a narrow thread of white gold through the center. She wants to get something etched on the inside, something that will make it special, but whenever she actually sits down to try to figure it out, all her words disappear. She’s supposed to be smart, but - not like this.
It lives in her suitcase when she’s on the road, little black velvet box tucked inside a small cloth bag, wrapped up in a big plastic bag meant for the recycling, and in the back corner of her closet when she’s at home. Eden doesn’t believe in hanging up clothes. She’ll never look there.
They’ve only been officially dating a couple of months, but Anne Marie’s sure about this. Sure about Eden, above all things.
#
Penny makes it through high school by the skin of her teeth, a lot of luck, Lena charming her teachers, and Anne Marie shouting at her to do her homework, go to class, stop messing around, Penny, this is important. Eden is the peacemaker without even trying. Anne Marie yells, Penny screams and slams her bedroom door, and Eden puts her hand on Anne Marie’s shoulder: remember what we did back then?
Anne Marie remembers. She throws up her hands, storms around the house huffing, tries to hide her smile.
Graduation day, Anne Marie holds Penny’s lei, heavy in her hands, the weight of the flowers, the green wet smell clinging to her. She doesn’t cry when Penny walks across the stage, shakes the principal’s hand, but she choke-laughs when Penny grabs her diploma and thrusts it into the air, face turned up to the sun, and her eyes burn. Maybe her cheeks are a little wet.
Penny hugs her hard, painful, the flowers a damp crush between them, and then spins off, grinning and shouting, to join her friends.
Eden’s hand on her hip, fingers just slipping under the edge of her shirt, settles Anne Marie.
#
Lena meets a guy, big hands, belly, sloe-eyed and sweet. He’s just moved over from Kauai, doesn’t like Honolulu much. They’re at a bonfire, Eden wrapped around Anne Marie, Lena cradling her guitar. His dark hair falls into his eyes; Lena laughs, and pushes it back, and plays for him.
They take a long weekend in Kauai, so she can meet his family.
When she comes home, she throws herself into their bed, right between Anne Marie and Eden, and shrieks a little into a pillow.
“I’m gonna marry that man,” she tells them. Promises. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes bright.
#
Six weeks later, Eden and Anne Marie stand up with her on the beach, sunset and the sea at their backs, friends and his big, bold family spread before them, and Penny walks her down the aisle. Lena looks beautiful, Penny shining with joy, and it’s not until she’s drinking beer and dancing with Lena in the firelight that Anne Marie realizes: while they’ve all been swept up in this, Lena’s also been swept away.
#
Penny’s not going to college, and that fight was so epic Eden slept on the beach to get away from them. Penny storms out, crashes with friends, doesn’t come home for three days, and when she does, she says she’s moving out for awhile. She needs some space. She’s got a job on Maui, with a couple of her friends. It’s just a few months.
Anne Marie starts to scream at her, demand she stop throwing away her life, but.
But.
She remembers, viciously, how shitty she felt when their mother took off, and how much worse it would have been without Eden and Lena. Her friends dropped everything, left their homes to save hers so Penny wouldn’t have to move. So Penny could stay put where she felt safe. So Anne Marie wouldn’t lose everything, even when her heart was broken.
She needed her friends, and they came without question. She never asked how their families felt. Well, no, she asked Lena once, and Lena just grinned, slung her arm across Anne Marie’s shoulders, talking about taking in strays.
Eden never said anything one way or another. She was there for Anne Marie. She’d always been there.
Anne Marie squeezes her eyes shut, because this hurts, Penny leaving, in a way that tears into old wounds, closed over but never healed. Penny is not their mother, Anne Marie knows, but the words come hard, stick in her throat.
Still.
She tells her sister she loves her, and she lets go.
#
Anne Marie’s half the world away when Lena calls, voice bubbling over, waking her from sleep. She just got off a plane six hours ago, she’s not really sure if it’s day or not, the curtains are drawn closed in her hotel room, and she’s groggy in the dim light.
“Auntie Annie!” Lena shouts, her voice bright through the phone, a little shaky, and Anne Marie squeezes her fingers around it tight. “When are you coming home?”
“What?” She mumbles, she blinks sleep from her eyes. Lena hasn't called her Annie since they were six years old.
“I’m pregnant.” She can hear Lena’s smile.
That wakes Anne Marie up fast. She stumbles to the bathroom, gets a glass of water, sits cross-legged on the end of the bed. They talk, laugh, cry a little. Anne Marie touches her stomach, thinks.
The ring’s in her suitcase. She hasn’t looked at it in at least a week.
#
She flies home on a Friday. Her layover in NYC is a sea of rainbows, in person, on television, on Facebook. Hawaii did the right thing a couple years back, but Anne Marie tears up anyway, reading the news. All those pictures, people hugging, kissing, laughing, crying. Loving, with all that they are. She sees two proposals, buys drinks for both couples.
By the time she makes it off the plane in Honolulu, she’s been up more than a day. Her eyelashes keep trying to stick together, her mouth tastes stale, and her hair is a tangled, knotty mess.
She’s planning to grab her bag, catch a cab home, crash for the next twelve hours, and then go see Lena.
Eden’s waiting just outside security. Anne Marie blinks, stares, blinks again. They don’t really do this anymore. She’s come and gone so often, it feels common place.
Still, she’s not going to complain, and she’s sure as hell not turning down a hug when Eden reaches for her. Anne Marie drops her carryon and steps into Eden’s arms. She probably smells like hell, but Eden’s great, soap and surfboard wax and coconut oil.
“Marry me,” Eden says, but her face is buried into a tangle of Anne Marie’s hair, and she’s not sure she hears her right. Eden keeps talking before she can pull back, surprised, shocked, confused. “I keep seeing all these people, their wedding pictures, everyone’s so damn happy - you do that to me. I love you. Marry me.”
Anne Marie sniffles and nods, then straightens sharp. “Oh shit,” she says, and punches Eden’s shoulder. “I’ve been - I was going to - I hate you.”
Eden laughs, grabs her hands. “What?”
“Marry me,” Anne Marie asks, even gets down on one knee. She’s wearing shorts. The floor feels gritty and gross. She’s going to regret that later, but that’s it. Nothing else. “I got you a ring, I’ve had it forever, I just couldn’t - the right time - oh god, Eden, I’ve messed it all up.”
“Yes,” Eden says, tugging at her hands until Anne Marie stands up again. “You idiot. Always.”
They kiss before Anne Marie thinks better of it, plane breath and all.
#
They get married at the courthouse a couple weeks later, Penny and Lena their witnesses. Eden wears clean jeans, a brand new tank top. Anne Marie buys a dress, bright flowers, flowy, strappy, short. Penny carries leis from Lena’s family, kisses their cheeks when they duck their heads so she can slip them around their necks.
Anne Marie cries, but the sun shines bright, and her family holds her just so.
This entry was original posted at http://escritoireazul.dreamwidth.org/397462.html with
comments. Reply here or there.