A/N: Last one... even I miss them already. Thank you, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this story! As you probably saw it's the first story I thought would be worth posting on FP. When I found it in an old notebook all I had was chapter one, a very different chapter two, and their names. I got excited and ran with it. Thank you so much for all of the feedback and kind words. It makes me really happy to know other people have enjoyed it. I hope you feel it goes out well.
Warning: sexual content? Tiny bit.
I woke up on Sunday morning with Bailey lying naked in my bed.
At least I thought it was Sunday.
Everything that had happened since Friday afternoon ran together in a fuzzy blur. Bailey jumping up and down over her first fully successful drawing of the human body. Telling Bailey I loved her; Bailey telling me she loved me back. Having sex with Bailey in my bed, and against the wall, and on my desk, and... well, those events were a little clearer in the blurry timeline. We had stayed naked until late afternoon when we both became hungry and Bailey wanted to check on Rowlf.
The plan had been to go to her apartment to get Rowlf and some of her things and then go eat but Bailey got sidetracked and insisted we have sex when she heard Lory come home. I knew it was petty and vindictive but I would never consider telling her 'no,' especially since her hand was already down my pants and wrapped around my dick. We were starving by the time Bailey was satisfied that we'd made enough noise so we skipped the restaurant, bought some take out, and rented a handful of movies before coming back to my room.
We stayed within the comforting privacy of my room for the next thirty-six hours, just Bailey, Rowlf, and I. We weren't hiding, we just didn't need anyone else; it was like our love was still so new that we didn't want to share it with the world yet. Sometimes we talked and sometimes we just had sex. We got through a few of the movies and I even finished my reading and wrote a lab report because Bailey knew it was impossible for me to have no work that had to be done. The lab report wasn't done well though; it had been really hard to concentrate with Bailey sitting on my bed and stripping off a piece of her clothing with every page I finished.
I could only recall falling asleep twice so I assumed it was Sunday.
Bailey lay across the bed, lying on a pillow and propped up on my chest. She had her sketchbook in her hands and was drawing, her face still with concentration. I yawned and she looked up at me, perhaps just noticing that I was awake. She leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss.
"What?" I asked, yawning again.
Bailey smiled and put her sketchbook down on my chest, tucking the pencil behind her ear. She leaned forward again, running a hand through my hair and pulling me towards her kiss.
"Good morning Ason," she said, her tongue sliding into my mouth before she was even done saying my name.
"Good morning Bailey."
"I love you," she whispered into my ear. One of her hands trailed down my chest, not stopping to grab her sketchbook but continuing over my stomach.
"I love you too."
She planted a kiss on my cheek and I could feel her lips spread into that smile that meant trouble as her hand closed around my dick and she stroked slowly and gently a few times. I reached out my hand to grab her arm, to try to pull her closer, but she playfully batted away my hand. Bailey retreated on all fronts; she pulled back, her hand left my dick, and she picked up her sketchbook, resuming her previous position.
"I know," she said with a smile, retrieving the pencil from behind her ear. "Now stay still," she ordered.
"Why?" I asked, much more awake this time.
"Because," she said, putting the pencil into her mouth. She reached out her hand and turned my head to where it had been when I was sleeping. She took up the pencil again before continuing. "I'm not done yet. Just stay still for a little longer. It'll be worth it, you'll see."
I laughed a little and she reminded me again to stay still. From my position I could only watch her out of the corner of my eye. I lay my arm lazily over her naked back and closed my eyes, sighing with contentment. The only thing better than waking up to Bailey in my bed was knowing that Bailey loved me. This beautiful, vibrant woman laying naked next to me loved me and I loved her. It was impossible not to love her. I felt like Bailey breathed life into me. I had been rejected too many times and I had resigned myself to a life of solitude. And then Bailey came along, demanding my heart and offering hers in return, and she brought me back to life.
Bailey had saved me from myself and I loved her for that. My heart was so light, finally free from all those years of doubt, that when she told me needed me I couldn't hold it in any more. Bailey, the woman who saved me, insisted that she needed me and I was so overwhelmed with love that I couldn't let another second pass without her knowing that I loved her. I just wanted her to know. When she started to cry I was worried that I'd made the wrong decision but the look in her eyes and her request to hear it again let me know that those weren't tears of pain or sadness. And then Bailey told me she loved me and I knew that was all I would ever need. I loved Bailey with all my heart and something inside of me told me that I would never stop loving her. Not that it mattered; I never wanted to stop loving Bailey.
I heard the sound of her sketchbook hitting the ground before I felt her hands on my face. She turned me towards her and I opened my eyes just in time to see her smile before she threatened to consume me with her kiss.
"Are you done?" I asked, against the insistent press of her lips.
"Doesn't matter," she said. She threw one of her legs over me and straddled my lap. My body reacted quickly to the sudden change in position and the warmth of her body pressed against mine while she continued to devour my lips with hers. "I can't sit next to you any longer without fucking you."
"Can I at least see it?" I asked. I reached my arm down and blindly felt around for the sketchbook. "You said it would be worth it."
"Oh, it will be," she purred. Bailey arched her back, teasingly rubbing her warm, wet pussy over my dick making me moan softly into her mouth.
My hand hit the sketchbook on the floor and I picked it up, planning to take a quick look before focusing all of my attention on Bailey and the things she was doing to my body. Surprisingly, instead of a drawing of what I assumed would be my face, the page was covered in a streak of blue with my name written in Bailey's free flowing script below it.
"What's this?" I asked.
Bailey pulled back just far enough to let me breathe, turning her head to look at what I was holding. She took the sketchbook out of my hand. She sat up a little, propping herself up on her elbows and putting the sketchbook down between us on my chest. A wide but soft smile spread over her face as she traced a finger over my name written on the page.
"This is the color of your eyes," she said softly, still looking down at the blue streak. "Or at least the best representation of it I could produce with something as simple as colored pencils. This is from the day we met."
Bailey smiled her beautiful smile at me. I didn't say anything; I had a feeling she had more to say and I would never consider interrupting her.
"I was so angry because it was life drawing and your body was so fucking delicious but I couldn't draw it for shit," she went on. "I was this close to losing it and storming out when you looked at me, at least it seemed like you did, and I saw your beautiful blue eyes for the first time. Just looking into them calmed me down. It was so powerful and I needed to have it. I needed to have that color, to be able to remember what it felt like to look into your beautiful blue eyes, in case I never saw you again."
Bailey dropped the sketchbook onto the floor again. She ran one of her hands through my hair, letting it rest on the nape of my neck. Her brown eyes met mine and all I saw was love.
"Ason, I have been captivated by you since that moment you first looked in my direction."
I sat up quickly, an arm around her waist and a hand on the back of her head, kissing Bailey with a hunger that had nothing to do with my physical desire for her body. I loved this woman and I had no idea what I did to deserve her but I would do anything I had to to be deserving of her love.
"I did look at you," I told her.
Bailey pulled back and placed a hand on my cheek. "You did?"
"Yes, I did," I said, smiling and kissing her again. I wanted Bailey to know how long I've wanted nothing more than to just be near her. "I saw you sitting there and I thought that you looked just as beautiful then as you did on the very first day I saw you."
"The first day?" she asked, confusion showing on her face.
"The very first day I saw you," I said, tucking a stray lock of Bailey's long, black hair behind her ear, "you were sitting under your tree near the library." I kissed her again, taking a moment to recall the details of the very first time I saw Bailey. "You were drawing in your sketchbook. Your hair was down and you were wearing a light blue shirt with a patch on the sleeve. You were absolutely beautiful."
"My art scout shirt?" Bailey asked, her brow wrinkled in thought. I shrugged, not knowing what the answer was. "That's the only one that has a patch on it... but I haven't seen that in months, not since Lory stole it from me at the beginning of the semester. Are you sure it was that one?"
"I'm sure." I may have seen a lot more of Bailey in the last thirty-six hours than I had all semester but that very first image of her was as clear in my mind as the endearing look of confusion on her face right now.
Bailey was quiet for a little bit before her thoughtful expression faded. She looked right at me, her brown eyes trying to ask me a question. I simply nodded; I knew what she was trying to ask and I recognized that this was one of those rare moments when it was Bailey who had trouble finding words. I couldn't stop smiling as realization dawned on her and her soft smile returned.
"Really?" she asked, touching a hand to her heart. I took her other hand and placed it over my own heart.
"Bailey, I have been captivated by you since the moment I first saw you."
Bailey took a deep breath and, for a moment, I saw tears gathering in her eyes. That moment didn't last long. A bright smile broke out over her face and she threw her arms around me, pulling me back down to the bed with her, kissing me with the same fire that I'd felt the very first time our lips touched. Nothing more had to be said; our plans were made for the rest of the day.
"Thank you for coming Mr. Nolan. Please have a seat."
I took a deep breath before following him into the conference room.
Dr. William Rush, the dean of medicine, offered me a seat, motioning towards the single chair on one side of the long table. I sat down at the table and folded my hands in my lap. Dr. Rush took his seat, directly across of me, and flattened his hand over the neatly bound and covered set of papers that I recognized as my medical school application. I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. Dr. Rush could change the next four years of my life with a single word and that made him an intimidating man. Just as intimidating were the two unnamed colleagues sitting on either side of him.
"Thank you for seeing me," I said, trying keep my voice steady.
"This is Dr. Marshall Ashmore, head of residency," Dr. Rush said, gesturing to the man on his right. "And this is Dr. Eleanor Lundstrom, head of academic affairs," he said, gesturing to the woman on his left. "We are all members of the admissions board and we will be conducting you interview this afternoon. We would just like to ask you some questions about your application." Dr. Rush smiled but it did nothing to ease my nerves.
I nodded politely, noticing that each of them had their own copy of my application in front of them. I balled my hands into fists under the table; I wanted them to stop shaking and I was trying to resist the urge to loosen my tie. Bailey had bought it for me and insisted I wear it to the interview. She said it made me look professional, and in her opinion incredibly sexy, because it was the perfect shade of blue to match my eyes.
All three doctors opened their copy of my application. Dr. Rush turned a few of the pages. Even from across the table I could tell that the page he stopped on was the first page of my transcripts.
"This is where you currently go to school?" he asked, looking up at me.
"And you plan to graduate...?" he prompted me.
"At the end of the semester with a double major in anatomy and biology," I answered.
"Impressive," he said. Dr. Rush turned to Dr. Lundstrom.
"Mr. Nolan," she addressed me, "as a whole your application is very impressive." She quickly turned through the pages as she mentioned each section. "Your grades are excellent, your test scores are high, your essay was well written, and the letters of recommendation from your academic advisor and the director of your internship were positively glowing. We would like to discuss your extracurricular activities."
All three doctors turned through the pages of my application until they were all on the same page.
"We were pleased to see Mr. Nolan," Dr. Ashmore said, continuing the conversation, "that you are an active member of two well-respected academic fraternities." He held a pen in his hand and he checked things off as he went over them. "And that you have put in far more than the expected number of hours volunteering in many different areas of patient care." Dr. Ashmore's hand paused over the next item before circling it. "It is what you've listed under 'Other' that we would like to discuss with you. What are the Alternatives?"
"The Alternatives is the band that I play in," I answered.
Dr. Ashmore made a note below the circle in stereotypical doctor chicken scratch. "What kind of band?" he asked.
"I guess I would call it a rock band," I said honestly. "We write and perform original songs that are influenced by many different genres of rock and roll."
Dr. Ashmore turned to look down the table at Dr. Lundstrom, who then turned to look at Dr. Rush. Dr. Rush addressed me again.
"That was what one of my graduate assistants suggested," he said, smiling again. His expression was more casual this time and I felt some of the tension leave my shoulders. "I have a niece who goes to the same school as you. I asked her if she'd ever heard of your band before; she said you were quite good."
"Thank you sir," I said, with a little disbelief. "Please thank your niece for me too."
Dr. Rush nodded. The hint of casualness remained on his face but he spoke with his previous formality.
"Mr. Nolan, we don't receive many applications where the applicant lists their rock band under their extracurricular activities. We've seen Greek organizations, sports teams, classical music training, armed forces service, and the occasional personal hobby but not many rock bands. I assume you included it because you feel it is a significant part of your life?"
"Yes sir, I do."
"Can you share with us what exactly you feel is its significance?"
I turned my head to look out the glass walls of the conference room we were sitting in. I could clearly see Bailey sitting in the hallway, drawing, her sketchbook in her lap. She was beautiful as always, perhaps even more beautiful than she was that very first day I saw her more than a year ago. She was wearing a light green dress with a white sweater over her shoulders, her hair tied up in a conservative bun; Bailey had stated that her appearance was just as important as mine. When the letter came, requesting my presence at the admissions interview, Bailey insisted on flying out to come with me. Yesterday, while we were walking around the campus, she proclaimed that she would be moving out here with me if I got accepted. Actually Bailey said when I got accepted but either way I would never consider telling her 'no.'
Bailey looked up from her sketchbook and her brown eyes met mine. She smiled brightly, tucking the pencil behind her ear, and quickly flipping to another page. She turned the sketchbook so that the open page was facing me and held it out in front of her. It read 'I love you Ason' in large, hand drawn lettering with the word 'love' underlined more times than I could count.
I was hoping to get two 'yes's today but I really only cared about one of them. There were other medical schools in the country; they may not have been as prestigious and as expensive but there were many others. There was only one Bailey in the whole universe and I did not want to imagine my life without her. Bailey was life; she was as vital to me as the blood that pumped through my veins and the oxygen that filled my lungs.
When I was mailing out my applications, Bailey had ranked the schools based on her preference regarding their physical location. When she asked me which school was the best and discovered that that school was low on her list, she threw the list out and told me that she was willing to build her life around whichever one I chose because she wanted me to succeed. I had taken her in my arms and told her that I was willing to build our lives around whichever one was best for both of us because I needed her to succeed. I may not have known it when I first saw her or even when we met but I knew it now and I had no trouble admitting it; I needed Bailey's love. I would not have been sitting in front of these doctors today without her.
I turned back to face Drs. Rush, Ashmore, and Lundstrom, not bothering to restrain the smile on my face.
"It all started with this girl."