Songbook

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The second time, they're back home in San Francisco, and she forgets where her songbook is.

She comes running downstairs in a panic where he's absentmindedly strumming a guitar. It's around 7pm and he's waiting for her to change before their date.

Date.

Because oh yeah, they're together now. He had kissed her on the last night of tour because she was so pretty, smiling at him after he got off stage after his last show of his first international tour (because Canada counts), and he just couldn't wait anymore. Because he had suddenly realized, in front of two thousand two hundred and thirty nine screaming fans, that it has always been Mia and that it will always be Mia.

And when he had kissed her for the second time in his life, it wasn't the most romantic moment, especially because the bus had gone over a pothole right as he leaned in to press his lips to hers.

But the resulting bump on the head didn't stop her from cupping his cheeks and bringing his face down to hers. "I was hoping you'd do that," she had said when they parted, looking up at him through her eyelashes. And he had understood, at that moment, that there would be nothing in his entire life more right than her.

But the status of their relationship doesn't really pertain to the issue at hand.

"James!" she says anxiously. "Where's my book? Did you take it? It had all the verses to your new song in it and—"

He quickly puts the guitar down and stands up. "Calm down, Mia, I didn't do anything with it. Did you look where you usually put it?"

Because he saw her writing in her songbook two hours ago, saw her put it on top of the piano in her family's music room like always.

"Where...I usually put it?" she asks, and suddenly, she looks very tired and very confused.

He frowns. "On top of the piano, Mia, you always keep it there."

She blinks.

He doesn't notice her strange expression because he's halfway up the stairs already. "Come on, let's go look," he calls, and she shakes her head at the sound of his voice.

"Coming," she answers, and he waits for her at the top of the stairs.

Sure enough, it's in the exact same place as where she always keeps it, on top of the piano, and she blushes in embarrassment. "I have no idea what happened; I just totally forgot where I put it."

He grins at her. "I guess you really are the blonde one."

She laughs.

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