I'm Not Ready for a Handshake With Death (Drabble)
Title: I’m Not Ready for a Handshake With Death (Drabble)
Pairing: Pete/Ashlee
Rating: PG
Author: Me! (xmexandxyoux)
Disclaimer: I do not own them. This never happened.
"You forgot again?" Ashlee asked over dinner that night, exasperated.
"I’m sorry, Ash’. I’ll get to it." Pete sipped his vibrantly colored drink and swallowed a bite of his pasta.
"When? When are you going to get these vows done? Fifteen minutes before the dress rehearsal?" Ashlee spoke loud and testily. Today hadn’t been a good day for her. The wedding planner had been giving her attitude about the seating arrangement, and she’d had to explain to Jessica, once again, that no, Jessica could not have a pedal-pink gown; they’d decided on an Alice in Wonderland theme, and it would Clash with a capital C.
"I’m a little busy, you know, with minor things such as my band, my record label, and a little thing called FNMTV!" Pete snapped, irritated. Today hadn’t been a good day for him, either. He and Patrick’d had an argument over "What a Catch, Donnie," which had resulted in yelling, the slamming of doors, and the song not being finished. Again.
"Well, I’m sorry, Mister Perfect, that I want you to follow through! I asked you, and you promised. We agreed on this, Pete. How do you expect to maintain a marriage if we have no communication?" As usual, Ashlee was blowing things way out of proportion, looking way too far into the future, and not focusing on the now.
"I’m not perfect. I have anxiety issues, I swear too much, I drink too much, half of my tattoos I wish I didn’t have, I hog the covers, I tried to commit suicide, I’m insecure, I have a big ego, I’m bi-polar, I forget to feed my dogs, I complain if my coffee is too hot, I complain if my ice cream is too cold, and I’m really, really not ready for this." Pete thundered, softening a bit on the last part, not thinking before he spoke.
Ashlee cringed at the new information and the fact that whether she had known or not, everything Pete had said had been true. Before she could apologize, the floor quivered beneath them. Pete was near Ashlee in a second, his arms around her as if daring the earthquake to hurt them. There was a tremor that caused the silverware to shake and the glasses to quaver. And then it was silent, aside from their frantic-panicked-relieved breathing. They waited for an aftershock with bated breath; it was still. The seconds until someone calmed down enough to speak crawled by.
"Now what were we fighting about again?" Pete whispered before he shrugged his shoulders and kissed her; it really didn’t matter.