Our love couldn't go wrong

Chapter Thirty :

He is, too.

There's that all too familiar vulnerability on her face again, eyes wide and honest. As though she's letting him see right through her. It makes his heart swell, knowing just how much she trusts him, knowing just how scary this must be for her.

Sometimes, he's hit by the little things. Like the way she dances around the too-small kitchen when he's cooking them dinner, singing softly to the radio or whatever playlist she has loaded up ready as she tries to get him to dance with her. Or how messy she lets herself be; throwing her shoes off the moment she's through the door and not bothering to kick them to the side before she inevitably trips over them, later. He's seen so many parts of her - good and bad - and there's a surge of...something that he feels so deeply and truly, knowing she feels safe. Knowing just how safe she feels.

He loves her so much, no matter what she does. And as angry as he feels that another person tried to steal this side of her away, dimming her light until it was almost fully gone, there's that overwhelming joy and pride that they didn't succeed.

She's still here. She's still shining bright.

He feels his breath catch in his throat, eyes glistening as he watches her. Newly-auburn hair fanned across the mattress like a golden-orange halo, sharpening her gentle features and softening everything else. She's so radiant. Angelic, rather.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Her voice cuts through the air, pulling him back to the present. He must've been staring at her, but he doesn't care about that. It's nothing new.

"I was just thinking," He stops, shuffling slightly so he's more on his side. They're fully facing each other, now, "I was just thinking how beautiful you are. And how lucky I am to love you and be loved by you. I know I told you yesterday, but I meant it, too - and I want to tell you that all the time, but if that's too much for you, that's okay. Just know how much I mean it; how much I've always meant it."

She flushes slightly, cheeks turning a shade of red that resembles the new colour of her hair. But if there's a moment of doubt she feels, there's no sign.

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Not even a week after that morning, he finds himself messaging Damien on his way to work in a frenzy. Sure, it would make more sense to wait until he's at work and can talk to his best friend in person, but all logic goes out of the window when his anxiety hits. Not that he should be anxious.

This is a good thing. A really fucking good thing. Wonderful, marvellous, incredible; perfect, even.

Courtney had joked that morning that they said their 'I love you's to each other before even going on a date. It was a cheesy joke, as she had stabbed her scrambled eggs with her fork before grinning at him in a way that had his heart stopping and his stomach fluttering. But if it was really just some meaningless joke, why does he feel this way?

Is there guilt that none of this has been conventional in the slightest? Maybe. But convenience goes out of the window considering how long they've known each other and all they've gone through - both together and separate. Is there lingering regret that he could never give her the traditional experience that everyone talks about with their partners, that she could tell people about in the future when they ask about them? Perhaps so. But everything with Courtney has always been so easy, so natural. It just happened. And it never needed a label, because it just was.

So, there is no explanation for this crushing feeling, really. No true explanation for the way his heart thrums so loudly against his chest that he's sure anyone close enough to him can hear it.

Damien's response sends a loud ping ringing through the car, and he scrambles for his phone to read the response, suddenly extremely thankful for the heavy traffic he's been stuck in for the last few minutes.

So you want to take her on a date?

He hums in response, before typing out his own reply.

I mean, yeah. But I can't just take her on any old date. It's got to be perfect.

Duh dude.

You know what I mean. She doesn't really go out properly anymore. What if we get recognised? What if someone asks about her Smosh absence? I just want everything to go perfectly and be perfect for her. It's the least she deserves.

Shit, yeah, I get you. We can have a think about it today, when you taking her out?

Damien's response is almost immediate, and it makes Shayne wonder whether the other man is already at work. It wouldn't surprise him.

This weekend, probably. Gives us time to plan.

He's met with a thumbs up in response, causing him to turn his phone off and throw it back into the passenger seat. The screen lights up again from the movement and he catches an eye of his lock screen - a photo of him and Courtney from a month or so ago that her dad had taken. She's asleep in his arms and he's smiling at her. It makes him smile, a sudden rush of determination flooding him. He's doing this for her. Everything he does is for her.

They'll find a way of making this perfect. For her. Anything for her.

Another late update. Sorry guys, I'm on my first nursing placement and I am fucking exhausted lol. Plus I've been fixated on another story that's close to home, so I've written like 12k for that. Maybe I'll post that as a really mean treat. Also, apologies for the format. It turned out weird and idk why. Anyways, enjoy.