A/N: Okay. The reason I didn't post this last night was because FP was being silly, and every time I tried to get on, it said that the link was broken. Was anyone else having that problem? If not, then I'm going to be pretty confused.
So this is the last chapter. The epilogue. The end. And I'm SAD! I wish there was a way I could make this longer, but the plot bunnies are telling me no, no I cannot make this longer. I'm going to miss Matt and Seth. Those two...those two just came to me, and so did there story. Like, I made up their names in WAC (1st chapter; they're the ones Jonas is complaining about) and I knew what they looked like, but then POC comes a lot and I just had to incorporate them somehow because they were inside of my head, screaming at me to let them out. But that one chapter wasn't enough, and they demanded to have their story told, which by then I having dreams about. I didn't have to spend hours sitting at my desk, planning out their plot line like I had to with Jonas and Cody, and Mitchell and Taylor. It was just there. I'm really going to miss them.
But thank you all who've read, reviewed, favorited this, and put it on alert. Thanks, too, to my friend Antonio, who let me base Carlos off of him to the point where I typed his name instead of 'Carlos' several times. And because I think people need to hear a bit of story, I'll be writing Josh a one-shot sometime in November.
Oh. And this chapter changes from Seth's POV to Matt's POV at the page break.
Thanks again for reading! Love you guys!
What a Lovely Scarf, Seth
His hand fits perfectly in mine.
I can feel the calluses on his fingers from all the drawing he does, but otherwise his skin is smooth, soft, and warm. The black nail polish stands out on his fingertips and my pale skin. I can't help think it's one of the most wonderful I've seen or felt. His hand in mine; our fingers laced together—it's prefect.
I smile and look up from our hands over to him. He's looking away from me, across the cemetery grounds, holding the flowers he brought with him up to his nose, but his face is still tilted enough towards me that I can see it. The way the sunlight is shining on him, illuminating his features, shadowing some, and filtering through his hair, makes him look angelic. I'm left breathless.
Matthew's the only one who can do that to me.
Without thinking it, I reach up with my free hand and cup his cheek. I turn his face towards me then press my lips gently to his. When I feel him smile into the kiss, I can't help but do the same. He's always been able to do that to me.
After a moment, we pull apart. Matthew rests his forehead against mine, looking deeply into my eyes, and I gaze back at him, stroking his cheek. His eyes are such a beautiful honey color. I love how bright and open they are; it only takes a glance for me to know what's he's feeling since they shine with whatever emotions he's having at the moment. And right now…well, they're shining with so much love that I feel humbled. I smile as I lean forward to kiss him again. He closes his eyes and sighs.
We just stand there like that for a while longer, enjoying each other and the silence around us, before Matthew opens his eyes. With a smile, he pulls away and starts to tug me along the walkway.
"C'mon, love," he says. I laugh as he starts to run, giving me no choice but to do the same if I want to keep a hold of his hand. He sends me a grin from over his shoulder.
As he leads me off the path, onto the still snow-covered ground, he stumbles, almost dropping his flowers. Before he actually falls, though, I steady him. Matthew gives me a large, grateful grin then continues walking. I stay close to his side, partly to share his body heat, but mostly just because I want to.
We walk through rows of headstones for five minutes before we finally stop in front of a purplish granite one. Matthew leans into me, resting his head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around his as we stand there. My eyes skim over the engraving on the stone I'm very familiar with by now.
In loving memory of
Madeline Jane Harper
May 13, 1926 – March 23, 2009
Matthew shivers and I pull him closer to me, rubbing his arm through his coat, but never taking my eyes of the gravestone. Every time I come here with him, I always feel a pang of remorse that I didn't know Madeline that well. In the past year, he's told me so much about her that I wish I did. It would have been lovely to know a woman so wonderful, that Matthew admires so much.
Another minute passes in silence, and then Matthew gives a long and slow sigh. From that sigh I know he's done saying whatever it is he says to her when we come here, and I remove my arm from him so he can walk up to the grave. Carefully, he places the flowers on the headstone then kisses his hand and presses it over her name. He turns back to me with a smile and an odd look in his eyes, one I've noticed he only gets when he's thinking of his Nana. It's like he's sad and happy at the same time.
"You know," he begins as he starts walking over to me again. "One of the last things she said to me was telling me to ask you out before someone else did."
I blink at him and then laugh. "Well, then. Why didn't you?"
"I would've. Eventually," he tells me, stopping right in front of me. Smiling, he takes both of my hands in his. "That is… I would've, if you hadn't kissed me first." And then he leans up and presses his lips to mine.
Oh, I love this. I love him.
I kiss him back, lifting his hands up in mine until they're at my shoulders. Knowing what I want him to do, Matthew unlaces our fingers and wraps his arms around my neck as I wrap mine around his back and waist. I hold him close to me.
It's been a year since he lost his Nana, and I'm not sure he's completely over it yet. He's getting there, though. Now he can talk about her without becoming sad afterwards. Of course, he tells me that if I hadn't been there for him, he wouldn't have been able to deal with it at all. I don't believe it. Matthew's strong, sometimes more so than I'll ever be. But he seems to think that, without me, he'd be lost.
Honestly, I think it's the other way around—I know it is. I love and care for him so much, it's hard imagining myself without him. I can't. I need him by my side.
Matthew breaks our kiss and rests his head on my shoulder, hiding his face in my neck. I feel him smiling against my skin, making me smile too as I tighten my hold around him.
Our one year anniversary is in a few days. I'm taking him out to dinner for it, which he knows, but afterwards I'm surprising him by taking him to a concert of one of his favorite bands. It's going to be amazing.
Like any other time I'm with him.
I kiss the top of his head then ask, "Are you ready to leave, Matthew?"
"Yeah," he sighs, and I let go of him. As we start walking back, our hands seem to find each other on their own.
Halfway back to the car, he starts humming quietly to himself. It only takes me a short moment to realize that it's the melody of the song I compose for him. Feeling happy beyond words, I glance at him and grin. Matthew sees me out of the corner of his eyes, and stops humming, blushing. Under my breath, I chuckle then lean over and kiss his cheek. He sighs contently, which makes me do it again before I rest my cheek against his, my lips right next to his ear.
"I love you," I whisper.
"I love you, too, my darling," he tells me. I smile then press a third kiss to his cheek before we start walking again.
I don't mind that he calls me endearments. In fact, I love it—particularly when he calls me 'love' and 'darling. However, if I'm going to be honest, if it was anyone else besides Matthew, I wouldn't. He's the only one who can do it because…well, just because; he's Matthew. And I'm grateful he's never used a certain one, and he wouldn't since he knows I hate it.
Matthew and I fit together flawlessly, in my opinion. Yes, he might sometimes be extremely hyper and an out of control lunatic at times, but he's my lunatic. I understand him better than I understand anyone else, though there are still occasions when he baffles me. But that's good, since he wouldn't be Matthew if he made perfect sense. And he understands me better than anyone, which is saying something since even Abigail, who I've known since we were children, can't even as well as he can.
Which just proves how well we go together.
We reach the car, and as I unlock it, Matthew turns around to face the cemetery again. He blows a kiss in the direction we just came from.
"See you next month, Nana," he whispers. "Love you."
I give his hand a squeeze and open the car door for him. In return, I get a huge grin that melts my heart and a peck on the nose before he climbs into the passenger's seat. Smiling to myself, I shut the door then head over to the driver's side.
I'm glad he found me.
I love him.
His hair is like silk between my fingers—so soft, shiny, and smooth. And it feels wonderful. But I'm jealous. He's got naturally black hair. If I want my hair to be that color, I have to dye it.
My beautiful jerk.
Grinning, I lean down and kiss his forehead. Seth makes a contented noise in his throat as he tilts his head—which is resting in my lap—back, looking at me in a certain way and pouting his lips just barely. I giggle a little and lean back down to press my lips to his, knowing that's what he wants. He hums again, smiling at me as I pull back, then goes back to reading his book. I continue playing with his hair, watching his face in fascination.
A twitch at the corner of his mouth; the slight narrowing of his eyes; the chewing on the inside of his lower lip—I know what all of it means. I know what every facial expression of his means, down to the tiniest raise of an eyebrow that most wouldn't even see. Even the unreadable looks he sometimes get, I can tell his thinking about something very hard, even though I might not know what that is.
At first, Seth was a bit of a mystery to me; there were times when I just couldn't comprehend how he could be so calm all the time. Not anymore. Of course, there are times when he still baffles me, but he wouldn't be Seth if I could understand him completely. And really—how fun would that be? Part of the reason being with him is so amazing is because he's unpredictable; I never know for certain what he's going to do. The other part of it is just because he's Seth. And Seth is just incredible.
I've been ask how it's possible for me to understand him as well as I do, and honestly, I don't know; I just know Seth. But…I'm pretty sure being in love with him for a year has a lot to do with it.
Sometimes, when Seth and I are out together in public, I notice random people looking at us strangely. When I see that look, I know what they're thinking; it's obvious they're wondering how the hell we're together, because to people who don't know us, Seth and I seem like complete opposites. And yeah, in some ways we are—Seth is Mister Calm, Cool, and Collected; I'm a hyper, chaotic, spazzy mess—but, really, we're more alike than everybody thinks.
We're both artists, though in different ways. Seth has his piano and music, while I have my sketching and painting. But it doesn't matter that it's different; we can still understand how the other feels when he's creating or recreating something in a way no one else can in exactly the same way. We both know how having that ability inside of you, possessing you sometimes like it's alive, can drive you insane, especially if you're somewhere where you can't express it. Seth knows I feel like I would die if I couldn't draw anymore, and I know he can't even fathom not being able to play his piano. Just even thinking that that could on day happen sends both of us into a slight panic.
Then there's the fact that both Seth and I can become attached to something very quickly and deeply. Just look at what happened with us, with each other. And though he doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve, like I do, it doesn't mean he's not affected by something in the same way as me and as intensely. In fact, sometimes he can be even more emotional than me. Though, when that happens, I'm the only one he allows to be near him. I'm pretty sure that I'm one of the very few who've he's opened himself completely to, and has actually seen him cry.
Seth and I aren't exactly the same, but we're not completely different either. We balance each other out perfectly. We're never bored together.
Tilting my head to the side, I trail my fingers across his cheekbone, along his jaw, then down his neck. He doesn't wear scarves everyday anymore, though he stills wears them pretty often. Either way is fine with me; he looks delicious in them, but I also like having kissing-access to his neck.
He sighs happy and closes his eyes as I continue bring my hand lower, until it's resting right over his heart. I smile when I feel it beating, slowly increasing in pace, and when Seth covers mine with his. Carefully, he lets his book drop to the floor then reaches up to caress my face, his eyes still closed. Like him, I cover his hand with mine.
We stay like that for a while, but eventually Seth starts to sit up, opening his eyes. When the light blue meets mine, he smiles a little. "Kiss, Matthew," he tells me.
"Yes, my love," I say, smiling back as I lean the rest of the way down to press my lips to his. Wrapping an arm around my neck, Seth sits up more and kisses me back, the metal of his snakebites cool against my mouth.
Oh, I love this. I love him.
It's our anniversary in a few days, and I'm so excited. He's taking me out to dinner at my favorite restaurant. But other than that, it just makes me feel wonderful to know that we've been together for a year. It doesn't feel like that, though. Not at all. The time went by so fast.
Well, whatever. I plan on keeping him for the rest of my life, so it hardly matters if it goes by fast. But, I would like it if didn't. I want the moments I share with him to last forever.
Like right now.
I laugh as the awkward position we're in on the futon almost causes Seth to fell off. He catches himself at the last second, though, somehow managing to keep kissing me in the even more awkward position. I laugh again and feel him smile against my lips as he begins to stand, taking my hands in his and pulling me to my feet as well. Once I'm standing, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close to him. I sigh because it feels so good and so right, like I belong here in his arms—which I do. And it's such an overwhelming truth that I have to break our kiss to rest my head on his shoulder, hugging him back just as tightly. Seth presses his face in my hair, and from the way his breathing is slow and deep, I know his eyes are closed.
My eyes roam around his room, landing on the large picture frame on his desk. Inside is one of my best sketches of him and me, holding each other and kissing. It's his favorite, which is why I framed it and gave it to him. That still doesn't keep him from stealing my sketchbooks every once and a while, though, so he can look at them. He loves looking at what I draw, even if he's already seen it before.
Seth starts humming the song he wrote for me, like I was doing earlier in the cemetery. I turn my head and bury my face in his neck. When I first heard him play it for me, I cried. Sometimes, I still do when he plays it for me. It's the most beautiful thing ever. I love it so much. The only thing I love more is Seth, of course. I love him more than anything else in the world.
He kisses me on the side of my head then gives me a short squeeze. "Wanna go downstairs and watch a movie with me?" he asks quietly, whispering into my hair. I lift my head and smile at him.
"Of course, dear."
Seth grins back and kisses me on the forehead before he lets go of me. As we walk out of his room to go downstairs, our hands finds each other on their own and our fingers lace together.
I wasn't sure how okay he'd be with me calling him pet names, at first. I mean—I know how much he hated being called 'baby' by Josh. But when I called him 'love' one day on accident, he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he grinned so brightly at me that it left me breathless. So, as long as I don't call him that one pet name, I know it's fine. Besides, I hate the pet name 'baby'; it's so ridiculous. I'd rather call him 'love' and 'darling'.
We reach the living room, and Seth lets go of my hand to set up the DVD player. I watch him, marveling once again at how I ended up with someone so amazing and beautiful, as he puts our favorite movie in. He catches me staring at him when he turns around and gives me a knowing smirk. I blush, which causes him to laugh a little as he makes his way back over to me. Seth kisses my cheek then takes my hand again and pulls me over to the couch, where he sits and tugs me down on his lap. Laughing a bit myself, I arrange myself so both of us will be comfortable. And it is very comfortable in his arms. I smile to myself, snuggling into him as he wraps his arms around me and starts the movie.
I'm glad he found me.
I love him.