(no subject)
title: you had me at hello
author: chartre
rating: pg
pairing: ryotego
summary: you sang a love song, dedicated it to the girl you never knew.
notes: fictional. genderfuck. a response fic to ryo's birthday fic because it just is. ♥ happy birthday, tegoshi; we know you know we love you. >D
You Had Me at Hello
ryotego
You looked my way when I had simply turned to look around, look for anything that was exceptionally new around the shop; seemed that you were all I was looking for.
I smiled at you, and you grinned back at me, propped your guitar on your back and walked opposite my direction. I turned to my book again, some love story I had picked up at the bookstore just across to pass my time. From the corners of my eye, I could still see you, and you sat quite far from me; I felt disappointed. I sipped my tea several times, thinking of how I could possibly catch your attention. Something told me you were something else, and I had to believe in that, think of that.
You looked up at the girl behind the cashier, and I forced a look on you. Was she someone special, someone you had been with? Are you seeing her now?
Oh god-you looked. You looked. You just had to, really; made me embarrassed and all that, I could just curse you now but I wouldn’t mean it in any way possible. I decided to take my walk, took my umbrella and slipped my book idly in my bag-and realized, I could still save my face, make you notice me. Why did I want to do this now. Possibly because you’re the only pretty thing out here that hasn’t dulled my wits, or it’s simply because I fancy a man with a significant face, a singing voice and a talent of music.
I knew I had seen you from somewhere, somewhere I can still remember perfectly. You sang a love song, dedicated it to the girl you never knew, and I sat at the back of that performance, putting myself in the shoes of that girl you spoke about. I envied her, really, but who am I to judge her? I never knew her; I just wanted to be her, is all.
I passed you by and purposely dropped the book in my bag onto the floor. It might have been obvious, I know, but I just wanted to see if you-oh, there you went, and I took the book, looked at its title and smiled back at you. “Thank you.” The book was entitled after an old song we were both probably familiar with. It was about love at first sight, and the after events that followed after it.
You were tall, handsome, everything I had expected. I thought I fell in love with your eyes, your lips; you were simply irresistible and I wanted to get to know you. I’m sorry, I seemed so improper like that...
You asked for my number, told me you were going to call me, smiled at me and I knew my cheeks flushed with heat, my hands warm with sensation. I tore out a page from my notepad, wrote clearly on a clean sheet my name, my number, and gladly handed it out to you. I rushed off, my umbrella in hand and my bag in the other. Later than evening, I sat by the phone and waited for your call.
It felt awkward at first, my throat a little dry, but I kept hearing your voice, I couldn’t let go, couldn’t put the phone down. We talked all night about so many things; music, food, friends, some teasing because you called me babe over the phone, and I simply felt something sink inside of me, my cheeks flushed with color and heat.
A little more phone calls into the next few weeks, right after we had exchanged emails, sent decomails and text messages (although I only remember receiving regular text messages from you since you weren’t so into those kind of things, right?), you finally decided to take me out, and there was no way in the world that I could possibly refuse.
You took me out everywhere, I had realized, gave me gifts I didn’t have to receive, like that cute, pink little phone strap that matched with your black one, or those pearl earrings you got for me that one day you took me out shopping out of town. You were something special, someone I could really love.
I remembered that one time in June, you drove me to the sea, told me you were supposed to bring me there blindfolded and I laughed at you. You killed the engine and hopped out, helped me out of the car and I ran far into the shore. You watched me, I knew, but I only meant to show you how I loved this all, how much you’ve made me happy.
We were already holding hands at that one point, and I could remember it well, because you suddenly pressed your lips on mine, and I felt startled, thought of a million things that still couldn’t express how I felt about that, but I kissed you back, wrapped my arms around you and you ventured further, pressed your lips against mine harder, until the waves suddenly rolled in on us, saltwater all over, some stinging into my eyes and I laughed out loud, knowing this was something I could remember, some first kiss under the bleachers when the sprinklers automatically switch on and we would get wet. This was only bigger, the sea and all that, us lying on the seashore alone-and I loved it.
We played a little, ran some more until you caught me, swung me around in your arms and I felt the breeze, felt you when you put me down and held onto my waist, pressed me against you and then we kissed again. This time there were no waves rolling at us, and this was longer, better, more romantic. I simply fell even more in love with you.
You brought me home that evening, took care of me when I felt cold (because I was still soaked, we both were). I fell asleep during the long drive, our favorite song playing softly on the radio and I loved this aura, loved where this was all going.
You shook me up when we got to my apartment, brought me to the doorstep of the complex and surrounded me, trapped me against the door, smiled as if you knew I had a secret to tell. I wondered then what you had thought of doing for me tomorrow that’s special, and you told me just right on cue what you planned: breakfast for two, that you were going to break into my house the next day, cook me breakfast and we’d spend the day watching DVDs together.
I simply laughed, and you kissed me again, soft and slow. Something glowed in the sky that night, and I wished hard on it.
I woke up the next day with rose petals scattered across my bed sheets and roses lined up outside my bedroom leading me to you in an apron, cooking up something I knew that was immensely delicious because I could smell it. The table was a breakfast set for two, and from then I knew you weren’t lying about the night before. You sneaked up from behind me, wrapped your arms around my waist, kissed my cheek and we laughed. From then I knew how I felt, how you made me feel all the time.
I tried not to fall in love again.
author: chartre
rating: pg
pairing: ryotego
summary: you sang a love song, dedicated it to the girl you never knew.
notes: fictional. genderfuck. a response fic to ryo's birthday fic because it just is. ♥ happy birthday, tegoshi; we know you know we love you. >D
You Had Me at Hello
ryotego
You looked my way when I had simply turned to look around, look for anything that was exceptionally new around the shop; seemed that you were all I was looking for.
I smiled at you, and you grinned back at me, propped your guitar on your back and walked opposite my direction. I turned to my book again, some love story I had picked up at the bookstore just across to pass my time. From the corners of my eye, I could still see you, and you sat quite far from me; I felt disappointed. I sipped my tea several times, thinking of how I could possibly catch your attention. Something told me you were something else, and I had to believe in that, think of that.
You looked up at the girl behind the cashier, and I forced a look on you. Was she someone special, someone you had been with? Are you seeing her now?
Oh god-you looked. You looked. You just had to, really; made me embarrassed and all that, I could just curse you now but I wouldn’t mean it in any way possible. I decided to take my walk, took my umbrella and slipped my book idly in my bag-and realized, I could still save my face, make you notice me. Why did I want to do this now. Possibly because you’re the only pretty thing out here that hasn’t dulled my wits, or it’s simply because I fancy a man with a significant face, a singing voice and a talent of music.
I knew I had seen you from somewhere, somewhere I can still remember perfectly. You sang a love song, dedicated it to the girl you never knew, and I sat at the back of that performance, putting myself in the shoes of that girl you spoke about. I envied her, really, but who am I to judge her? I never knew her; I just wanted to be her, is all.
I passed you by and purposely dropped the book in my bag onto the floor. It might have been obvious, I know, but I just wanted to see if you-oh, there you went, and I took the book, looked at its title and smiled back at you. “Thank you.” The book was entitled after an old song we were both probably familiar with. It was about love at first sight, and the after events that followed after it.
You were tall, handsome, everything I had expected. I thought I fell in love with your eyes, your lips; you were simply irresistible and I wanted to get to know you. I’m sorry, I seemed so improper like that...
You asked for my number, told me you were going to call me, smiled at me and I knew my cheeks flushed with heat, my hands warm with sensation. I tore out a page from my notepad, wrote clearly on a clean sheet my name, my number, and gladly handed it out to you. I rushed off, my umbrella in hand and my bag in the other. Later than evening, I sat by the phone and waited for your call.
It felt awkward at first, my throat a little dry, but I kept hearing your voice, I couldn’t let go, couldn’t put the phone down. We talked all night about so many things; music, food, friends, some teasing because you called me babe over the phone, and I simply felt something sink inside of me, my cheeks flushed with color and heat.
A little more phone calls into the next few weeks, right after we had exchanged emails, sent decomails and text messages (although I only remember receiving regular text messages from you since you weren’t so into those kind of things, right?), you finally decided to take me out, and there was no way in the world that I could possibly refuse.
You took me out everywhere, I had realized, gave me gifts I didn’t have to receive, like that cute, pink little phone strap that matched with your black one, or those pearl earrings you got for me that one day you took me out shopping out of town. You were something special, someone I could really love.
I remembered that one time in June, you drove me to the sea, told me you were supposed to bring me there blindfolded and I laughed at you. You killed the engine and hopped out, helped me out of the car and I ran far into the shore. You watched me, I knew, but I only meant to show you how I loved this all, how much you’ve made me happy.
We were already holding hands at that one point, and I could remember it well, because you suddenly pressed your lips on mine, and I felt startled, thought of a million things that still couldn’t express how I felt about that, but I kissed you back, wrapped my arms around you and you ventured further, pressed your lips against mine harder, until the waves suddenly rolled in on us, saltwater all over, some stinging into my eyes and I laughed out loud, knowing this was something I could remember, some first kiss under the bleachers when the sprinklers automatically switch on and we would get wet. This was only bigger, the sea and all that, us lying on the seashore alone-and I loved it.
We played a little, ran some more until you caught me, swung me around in your arms and I felt the breeze, felt you when you put me down and held onto my waist, pressed me against you and then we kissed again. This time there were no waves rolling at us, and this was longer, better, more romantic. I simply fell even more in love with you.
You brought me home that evening, took care of me when I felt cold (because I was still soaked, we both were). I fell asleep during the long drive, our favorite song playing softly on the radio and I loved this aura, loved where this was all going.
You shook me up when we got to my apartment, brought me to the doorstep of the complex and surrounded me, trapped me against the door, smiled as if you knew I had a secret to tell. I wondered then what you had thought of doing for me tomorrow that’s special, and you told me just right on cue what you planned: breakfast for two, that you were going to break into my house the next day, cook me breakfast and we’d spend the day watching DVDs together.
I simply laughed, and you kissed me again, soft and slow. Something glowed in the sky that night, and I wished hard on it.
I woke up the next day with rose petals scattered across my bed sheets and roses lined up outside my bedroom leading me to you in an apron, cooking up something I knew that was immensely delicious because I could smell it. The table was a breakfast set for two, and from then I knew you weren’t lying about the night before. You sneaked up from behind me, wrapped your arms around my waist, kissed my cheek and we laughed. From then I knew how I felt, how you made me feel all the time.
I tried not to fall in love again.