Croissant
Oneshot

[ Summary: He was going to leave, and there were only so many things she could give him.]

He was tall, dark, handsome, a tennis player, and French. His name was Omar Desiderio. And, Julia finally realized that he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, either.

“I want to be the child! You two can be my mommies.” He grinned, a hint of his accent still present. He sat back in his desk, running a hand through his bronze hair. Julia watched the movement unconsciously. He gestured between her and the other bleach blonde girl.

This was the boy she was so attracted to? This was the boy that she fawned over behind his back, and codenamed him Croissant? This was the boy she had nearly had a heart attack over when their teacher announced that they were in the same speech group together?

Surely not. Surely not. Julia winced, before pointing out that it couldn’t work—because that would make her and Gillian lesbians.

For a moment, the French boy pondered over this fact. He couldn’t hide behind the fact he had moved here from France, because that had been well over two years ago. He was a senior now, while Julia was a little sophomore. His dark eyes twinkled lightly, and his lips curved into a small pout—one which was adorable.

He had the perfect pout, she realized. And the perfect flyaway bronze hair. His body, long and tall with broad shoulders, but a slim figure, was everything she wanted in a boy. Though, she didn’t believe that she’d ever get him.

“The teacher wouldn’t let us do that anyways,” she added hastily, trying to bring his spirit back up, “because it wouldn’t be ‘school appropriate.’”

Omar sat forward in his chair, smiling. “Indeed, so, I’ll be the Daddy, and you’re the child, then?” He crossed his arms over the desk, and proceeded to rest his chin on his hands. His gaze traveled upwards, until his eyes rested on hers.

Julia flushed, wanting to hide her face again, but he was so close. Gillian and Omar would notice the motion, too.

“Yes, yes. That was the original plan, anyways.” She admonished softly, before picking up her pencil and wondering what had gotten Omar so high today. She didn’t remember him being that…playful.

“Where were you yesterday?”

Julia turned at the sound of the soft baritone, surprised to find Omar looking down at her. She appreciated his height, because it seemed that no boy was anywhere near taller than her. It made her feel better about herself.

Idly, she leaned back in her desk, and pulled her shiny black hair into a ponytail. Omar waited for her answer, standing there before her, of all people. She blushed slightly when she noticed the way his slacks hung off his hips nicely. “I was at State—for band. We didn’t make finals.”

“Is that so? I’m sorry.” He offered her a small smile. “I hear you practice on Tuesdays and Thursdays, during tennis practice. You guys sound very nice.”

“I know,” she said, before she could stop herself. Julia’s mouth dropped, and her face heated up. The notion to cover her face was strong. How much stalker-like could she be? She knew he practiced on Tuesdays and Thur—

Omar didn’t notice. He chuckled softly. “Modesty doesn’t become you, I see, chéri.”

She laughed nervously with him as he took the seat one row up and to the left of her. He offered her another smile as the teacher passed through the doors, announcing that speech class was beginning, and everyone had better pay attention, as if their lives depended on it.

They talked now and then, and she enjoyed it.

Julia thought she had been satisfied, with knowing that he knew her, and even added her on facebook. They were above acquaintances, but not quite friends yet. But that suited her just fine. That was enough.

But there was this other girl in her speech class, who sat behind her, surrounded with her little posse of friends, and talked about Omar, too. She was the blonde bimbo that flung herself at guys, Julia deemed, when her friend told her to go talk to Omar, even though she had a boyfriend.

But Julia couldn’t help but feel resentment toward the other girl, and a flare of possessiveness toward Omar.

But Julia found herself smiling when Omar rose from his seat—graceful as ever—and took the stage in the front of the classroom. He held a piece of paper at arms length, his eyes scanning over the words quickly. It was his ‘Me’ speech.

“I’m Omar,” he began, “and I like to think of myself as…hopeless romantic, it is the French blood in me, I guess.”

If Julia were standing, she would’ve swooned.

He was going to leave for New York, after this semester. She found herself wishing he would just stay. He told her this with a straight face, his eyes excited. “I want to go to a medical school, there. Very famous, I’ve heard.”

She swallowed, looking at everyone but him in the hall. A couple weeks ago, they had taken their speech final exam together, but here he was now, mingling in the hallway with her. He leaned against the lockers, and Julia noticed his broad shoulders for a moment, wishing she could go up on her tip-toes (because he was just that much taller, thankfully) and peck his lips.

But she didn’t. She kept her distance. Omar smiled at her, somewhat blankly, and waited for her answer. Julia didn’t return his gaze, but stared at his demi-godlike torso. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed she approved of his hair today. Yesterday, he had it pushed down more, but curly. Today is was nice and looked blown-away.

“That’s…great. I bet you’ll do great.” Julia smile, hoping her smile looked authentic enough. Though she was sad, she was happy for him, because this was his dream. The one he talked so much about in speech class last semester.

“Mhm, I hope so, chéri.” He told her, just as the bell rang.

There was a moment of awkwardness that passed between them. Julia looked over her shoulder, realizing that the halls were barren, and the principle was stalking toward them, his eyes narrowed behind his bushy brows.

Before she could get in trouble, Julia waved farewell to Omar, and dashed to her next class.

“This school is so cold.” Omar complained upon meeting her at their little meeting place, between third and fourth period. “How can you take it?” He zipped up the white cotton jacket as he spoke.

“I’ve got a scarf on.” Julia replied, pointing toward the cloth twining around her neck. “It keeps me rather warm.”

Omar rolled his eyes, flicking her nose gently. “My ears feel like ice, chéri.” He shivered, and resorted to hugging himself, and pouting. “I hope frostbite won’t overcome them. That would be bad, yeah.”

Julia smiled up at the boy as she ran a hand through her hair. She didn’t what on earth possessed her to do this, but she didn’t stop herself either, when she came to her senses. “I could give you earmuffs,” she offered, pressing her palms to her mouth, breathing on them.

His brow rose, and decided to play along. “Oh, you could? I’d be indebted to you forever, chéri.” From behind, someone shoved pass him, pushing him closer to her. Julia tilted her chin to gaze up into his eyes.

He was going to leave, and it was the only thing she could give him. So, she took the plunge and took the risk.

She cupped her palms against her mouth, breathing gently onto them, warming them up. Omar watched her curiously as she took her hands away, and reached up to him, as if she was going to wrap her hands around his neck.

She pressed her hands to his ears softly, laughing silently at the look on his face. The icy wind had no mercy for his ears, and Julia felt the coldness seeping into her own fingertips. She pulled them back again, and breathed on them.

“What is this?” He asked, confused.

For the second time, she pressed her hands to his ears, letting her fingers brush his curls lightly. “They’re the million-dollar earmuffs,’ she breathed, beaming cutely. “Haven’t you heard of them?”

Omar laughed, leaning in closer, to where their noses almost brushed. “I can’t say that I have, Julia. Though, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” Julia said, pulling her hands away again, but not before Omar captured her wrists with his large hands.

“Is your nose cold?” He questioned innocently. “Because, if so, I have the perfect remedy for it.” His deep, chocolate eyes gleamed with excitement, which made Julia’s stomach churn.

“Um—a tad bit?”

‘Perfect, chéri.” Omar whispered, and even with everyone around—watching—he closed the gap between their faces, and rubbed his nose back and forth against hers. He rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb against the tender skin of her wrists, causing her pulse to jump.

“An Eskimo-kiss?” Julia asked, blushing profusely. She couldn’t look at him, when he was so close. With a grin, he stopped the motion, but didn’t stray back.

“Ah, ah, ah, chéri. You are wrong. It’s the million-dollar kiss.” He grinned.

It seemed that both of them would be blowing their lifesavings, if it weren’t for that bell that seemed to echo all around them.

Omar followed her pacing form with dull, worried eyes. It was graduation day. The day they both dreaded most.

She wouldn’t look at him today, because she knew it would all end here. Even when he would be leaving in two months, he’d still end it there, so he wouldn’t have to prolong the inevitable. So Julia didn’t look at him. Maybe, if she left, he’d chase after her, and it would make him realize that he truly didn’t want to leave.

“Julia,” he tried, but she ignored him. She merely continued to pace around, and rifle through his dresser and wardrobe, trying to find something. When she’d arrived at his house, the first thing that she had stated was “you’re missing something.”

He had given up long ago trying to figure out what she was looking for. “Chéri,” he groaned as he flopped down on his bed, defeated. He scowled at himself, wanting her just to speak. He didn’t like getting the cold shoulder much.

“Shh, Croissant, I’m busy.” She snapped a him, though she still used his pet name; his code name.

He decided to approach this very bluntly. So, he took a deep breath and sat up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked down to the floor, and noticed that his black slacks were rather wrinkled, much like his flannel white shirt. He thought his mother had ironed them not a day ago…

“Chéri,” he said, looking back up, only seeing her back as she threw out various hangers and shirts, “I do not plan on leaving you.”

He saw the way her body stiffened, and all motion ceased. With a heavy, weary sigh, he got to his feet. He tucked his hands in his pockets, and Julia turned around to face him, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked at him with small, doe eyes. Omar wished she would smile.

“How can you be sure about that?” She asked quietly, walking towards him. “New York is far away.”

“Indeed it is,” he paused, watching her face crumple. “But I will come home as much as I can, chéri. Or do you not have any faith in me?”

“Of course I do, Omar, but—there’s going to be miles between us, and new people. Why wouldn’t you want to embrace that? I trust you, but I don’t want you to be…tied down.” Julia said, shaking her head.

“Tied down? Of course not.” He scoffed. “I’m rich when I’m with you, Julia.”

“Money doesn’t make the world go around.” Julia pointed out, but sobbed out a soft laugh.

“Correct, but I’d be willing to go bankrupt, for your kisses, chéri.” He smiled, tilting her head up with a single finger. “I’d be willing to go to jail for fraud, and such.”

“Oh, shut up,” she said, but smiled nonetheless. With her fingers, she smoothed out his shirt, and then revealed what she had been hiding behind her back: a tie. It was shaded darkly against her tanned fingers. She reached up to wrap the cloth around his neck.

He took his chance to lean in to press a tender kiss against her lips. She smiled against his lips, her fingers dragging through his hair. But, she stepped back, determined to finish the job. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tied the tie.

“This is something my mother would normally do for my father,” he murmured, watching her fingers.

Julia nodded, and Omar could see the beading tears on her eye lashes. Worry flowed through his body again as he cradled her cheek in his palm. Her hands began to tremble just as she finished his tie.

“I know,” she told him brokenly.

There was a long paused as he just gather her into his arms, and rubbed her back with long, soothing strokes. She pressed her face against his neck, inhaling his sweet, subtle scent. Sometimes, it was cedar, and sometimes, it was oak.

“I hope you’ll be the one tying my ties, for the years to come.” He told her with a small smile.

“I know,” she repeated, looking up at him. She pulled back and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands. His fingers traced random patterns on her elbows.

She smoothed out his tie with slim, nimble fingers, and leaned up pressed her forehead to his. Omar’s nose brushed back and forth against hers.

His eyes told her that he wouldn’t be ending it for a long, long time.

It was many years later, that he finally pressed a hand to her stomach in a tender fashion. Julia wrapped her smaller hands around his wrists, looking up at him. He didn’t return the stare, but he looked at her stomach, his fingers working over the stretched material.

“I didn’t want to tell you unless I was really sure if you were going to come home.” Julia explained. The little baby bump wasn’t very pronounced yet, but it was getting there. “I wanted you to finish your internship before.”

Omar watched his wife of nearly two years look at his hand, and play with his fingers. “I’m home now, chéri.” He told her softly. “And I’ll stay home.”

Julia’s smile resembled something close to sunshine. She reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, and pressed an imprinting kiss on his lips. He held her in his arms, his hand resting on the small of her back, while his other hand slid up and down her side.

She rested her head against his Adam’s apple, sighing. Easily, he guided them toward the bed, and sprawled out. “You have perfect timing, Julia,” he joked. “Just as I finished my internship…and you finish school. Chéri, we are going to have a million-dollar baby. Just wait and see.”

She sat up; adjusting herself, so that she was pressing her cheek against his heart, and his hand was running over her stomach with long, gentle strokes. “She. She. She is going to be our…trillion-dollar baby, Croissant.”

He chuckled. “Infinity-dollar, yes? Shall we leave it there, chéri?” Omar asked quietly.

They stayed like that for a long time, not feeling the need to move. Even when their life together was just starting, they were just starting a new life. Julia still didn’t know how they made it for those two years she was in high school, and then those lonely years of college.

Suddenly, Omar pouted. “By now, shouldn’t we be billionaires?” He asked, his accent heavier for some reason. Julia tilted her head up to look at him. His eyes had a wet sheen to them. He was crying.

“Ah, je t'aime, chéri. Un bébé ? Parfait,” Omar murmured, and Julia reached up to wipe away his tears. “Parfait, Parfait, Parfait.”

Julia’s eyes watered at her husbands words. Perfect? They were far from that, but oh, they were so close.

Julia Desiderio started outside of her window, cradling the small bundle in her arms. The sun was setting across the horizon. She cooed softly at her baby, Rosalie. Tomorrow, she would be three months old.

“You should sleep, chéri. It’s not good for you.” A voice said from behind her, with a hint of a deep French accent. A pair of hands fell onto her shoulders, and squeezed them.

“Croissant,” she murmured, “I’m merely reminiscing.”

“About what?”

“About the only things I thought I could give you,” she replied, “that would keep you heart in mine.”

Omar, older and wiser now, that time had passed, leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Other than Rosalie, I like the earmuffs the best,” he informed her. He pressed his hands to his mouth, then to her ears.

They had given each other millions and millions of dollars worth of love, and neither of them would trade it for anything else in the world.

a/n: hola, people. this was something i cooked up for one of my really awesome-tastical friends, Julia, because i love her to death and i love looking at croissant in the hallways. she wanted 'million-dollar earmuffs,' which i thought was the cutest thing in the whole wide world, and her tying his tie, because she thought that was something sweet, and then the preggers thing, which was the family aspect she wanted. ;D hope you liked it, Julia!

it's probably riddle with mistakes, but oh well. i'm too lazy to send it to my beta.

now, back to nano-ing.