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So I found out this morning that it was Priyo's birthday today. And it totally took me by surprise. I vowed to write a one-shot for her.
I was bored a while ago, so I started writing something. But then I heard Lucky by Jason Mraz/Colby Caillat, and I got hit really hard by this awesome idea that I just *had* to write, so I did!
Special thanks to Radz for proofing this for me, and to Nonee, who helped me find a song!
Hope you guys like it!
-||-
So This Is Love
She looked at herself in the mirror, tugging on the skirts of her pink and yellow floral dress. She sighed heavily. There wasn't any point in fidgeting with her dress, she knew. She was better off spending her time doing something more productive. Like her hair.
She twisted her hair, trying it in a sleek chignon. She made a face. She let her hair down, shaking her head to give it a bit of…oomph. She looked at her reflection and scrunched up her face again. No, that wasn't working either. She sighed again. She ran her comb through her dark brown locks, smoothing them down. She spotted a yellow headband with a daisy on it, and she slipped that onto her hair. She smiled. Cute.
She sat down at her dresser and took out her makeup. She wasn't exactly one to pile on the makeup, because it made her feel like a drag queen, but just a little lip gloss and a tinge of blush gave her a glow that hadn't been there two minutes ago.
She studied her reflection.
Now what? she wondered. She still had half an hour before she had to leave, and she was entirely ready. This gave her time to be nervous, and be nervous she did.
Her heart fluttered as she thought about him, her best friend that she hadn't seen in years. Sure, they kept in touch through emails and long-distance phone conversations. And of course they emailed pictures of birthdays and celebrations to each other. But she hadn't seen him in forever.
They had been best friends since he ate sand in the sandbox and she baked cakes in her Easy-Bake Oven. And only four short years after that, his father had gotten a transfer to a company in Canada, and they had moved. Today, thirteen years later, they were going to meet again, on her birthday.
She was nervous. Her fingers itched to do something, her heart raced, she chewed on her bottom lip. At least she was doing something. She drummed her fingers against her dresser. How was she supposed to spend the next – she glanced at her clock again – twenty-seven minutes?
She sighed.
-||-
He looked around the clearing. Luck was on his side today: the sun was out (but it wasn't too hot); the flowers were in bloom, breaking the monotony of the green foliage; it hadn't rained the previous night, which meant the ground was dry. The only thing missing was the string ensemble.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Where are they?" he muttered, pacing the clearing.
What if she came before they did? The ensemble was supposed to start playing the minute she stepped into the clearing, and if she came before they did…
He froze. Had he remembered to bring the cake? He whirled around, turning to face the plastic table he had set up and covered with a checkered red and white cloth. He heaved a sigh of relief as he saw the cake carrier sitting there, protected from the animals in the forest by the plastic cover that lay over the cake.
He resisted the urge to plonk himself down on the ground. (It would leave a rather questionable stain on the seat of his jeans, one that he could do without.) Instead, he took out his cell phone and dialed the by-now familiar number of the string ensemble.
A polyphonic version Debussy's Claire De Lune flitted into the clearing, and he looked around, just in time to see the string ensemble hurrying into the clearing. He ended the call, and the music stopped.
"Where have you been? Didn't you realize she could have come early? What if she'd already come and you weren't here?" Prem snapped, immediately regretting it. "I'm sorry. It's just that I've missed thirteen of her birthdays, so this one has to be perfect."
The ensemble made their way to the plastic chairs that Prem had arranged for them.
"It's alright," one of them replied. "We were caught in traffic. We were going to leave earlier, but someone –"he shot a look at the cellist "– left their cello at home!"
He smiled as the musicians began to tune their instruments. "You remember what you have to play, right?"
The same person who had spoken to him earlier nodded. "We've been rehearsing all week, Mr. Prem. Would you like to hear it?"
Prem glanced at his watch. He had fifteen minutes before she came. He nodded.
-||-
She tapped her strappy white sandal-clad foot against the floor of the taxi, earning herself a dirty look from the cabby. One that she conveniently missed.
"Are we reaching soon?" she asked him.
"In about five minutes," he replied curtly.
She nodded and sat back again. This time she drummed her pastel pink fingernails against her arm.
She bit her lip, refraining from asking the cabby to drive a little faster. She couldn't wait to get there and see what he'd planned for her.
-||-
The sound of footsteps crunching softly on the carpet of dead leaves and twigs caught Prem's attention. He turned to where he knew she would be coming from, his heart drumming out a quick staccato rhythm.
As the footsteps grew louder, he raised his hand, and the ensemble played the beginning notes of the song that Prem had selected for her.
She stepped into the clearing, and right on cue, Prem began singing.
"So this is love
So this is love
So this is what makes life divine."
She blushed, recognizing the song. "Cinderella," she said softly.
He broke into a smile. "Your favourite movie."
She returned the smile shyly. "You remembered."
Prem held his hand out to her. "May I have this dance?" he asked, taking a step towards her.
Blushing harder, she slipped her hand in his. With a smile, he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her as the ensemble played on.
I'm all aglow
And now I know
The key to all heaven is mine
Resting her head against his shoulder felt right, so she did it, a serene smile on her face.
All those years of being apart meant nothing to either of them now. In each other's arms, with the music in the background, the sun in the sky and the forest giving them their own little moment, everything felt right.
And I can fly
I'll touch ev'ry sky
So this is the miracle I've been dreaming of.
"By the way," he whispered into her ear, "happy birthday, Priyo."
So this is love…
-|end|-
Heh. Priyo, I know I must have like, mutilated your off-IF personality, but I am so sorry! This version of you just totally worked for this one, so that's the way I made you! 😳 And once again, happy birthday dear! 🤗
Love,
Bhav (:
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