Chapter Text
The only thing Julie could think of when she first walked into the studio was, “How could he possibly have lit the candles?”
The other boys could have helped, she supposed, but there were so many, all over the place. It was… well, perfect. Candlelight danced off flower petals, illuminating a picnic on cozy blankets in the middle of the floor. Part of her was absolutely delighted; this is the sort of thing most girls dream about, being surprised with a grand romantic gesture like this. Other girls make whole Pinterest boards of scenes like this, plan scene after scene over in their head until it’s absolutely perfect. They would never get something as perfect as this.
“Do you like it?” Luke looks so nervous, so eager, hovering just over her shoulder. He’s wearing something nicer than usual, but he’s still his grunge self. He’s got his hair slicked back though, something with definite Reggie vibes. The boys had to have helped him.
“Yeah, it’s great,” she manages, because to some extent it is. “How did you…?”
“Flynn helped. We wrote stuff down- Well, I wrote stuff down.”
So the others didn’t help. Or, they didn’t help much. Honestly, she’s surprised Flynn helped, after all she said about how hopeless this all was. How badly her feelings were going to get her hurt.
His hand feels so solid in hers as he leads her over, helps her sit down, and she can’t tell if it’s actually warm or if her stupid heart is just tricking her into thinking it is. Part of her doesn’t care, just wants to enjoy the moment, soak up the perfect scene with this wonderful boy.
He’s so full of life, and he looks at her with such wonder. She lets herself forget, just for a second, lets herself believe that he’s just a normal boy. A boy who really likes her, a boy she really likes. Someone she can go on dates with and introduce to her dad, someone she could grow up with…
“What’s wrong?” he says gently.
“What? Nothing, why do you think something’s wrong?”
“You’ve just got that thinking face on.”
“What?! No I don’t, this is just my face!” she protests. He just laughs and dodges the pillow she throws at him.
They’re too close. She can feel the charge between them, so strong it’s almost tangible, like something she can hold and hide away. If she could, she’d stay in this moment forever, this one, perfect moment.
He reaches up to brush a curl out of her face. “You’ve got that face again.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What? No, don’t be sorry, it’s cute-”
“ Don’t -” She bites down her protest; she didn’t mean for it to come out that strong. “Don’t do that.”
“What, say you’re cute? Okay, how about… Beautiful?”
“ Luke -”
“Gorgeous?”
“Luke, stop it !” Her voice cracks, and the teasing smile on his face disappears, replaced with something like concern, but also… knowing. He knows.
There’s a tense silence for a moment. “You can’t do this to me,” she finally says. There’s a burning in her throat, a threat of tears, which isn’t fair. This shouldn’t be so hard. This should be obvious . They can’t do this.
“Julie…”
“I mean it, it’s not… It’s not okay.”
“Yeah I tried telling Flynn it was tacky, but wow is that girl stubborn.”
“ Luke .”
He’s trying to play it off, trying to avoid what she’s saying, but he won’t even look at her. “Is it really that bad, though?” he says after a moment. “I mean, would it really be that different?”
“Do you hear yourself?” She can’t believe that he’s actually trying to say this. “Of course it’s different.”
“Well, yeah, but how different can it be? I mean, I’m always gonna look this good-”
“You’re dead !”
It’s like she slapped him in the face. The whole aloof, bad boy thing drops immediately, replaced with something she’s only seen at his parents’ house. It’s a broken, sad thing that seeps into her bones, dims the whole room. What was romantic and beautiful a moment ago feels cold and staged now.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t mean to…” She’s not sure how to finish that thought.
“I know.”
“It’s just… Well it’s like the definition of wanting what you can’t have, and…”
“You don’t want to get hurt.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt either! Where would this go, Luke?”
“Maybe somewhere good!”
“How is this supposed to end well?” she pushes. “You can’t age, no one but me can see you. We can’t go out on dates, or to dances. I can’t really talk to you unless we’re totally alone. I can barely touch you unless you’re focusing really hard. I can’t introduce you to my friends, my family-”
“Okay, I get it!” he says. “I’m dead and you’re not and that makes everything impossible.”
“I’m sorry-”
“Stop saying that, it’s not your fault! It’s not anyone’s fault! It just… sucks .” He huffs and runs his hands through his hair. “God, Julie, you have no idea how much this sucks. I look at you, and… I feel more alive than I ever did, more than I did when I was actually alive.”
The confession takes her breath away, shakens her resolve. “Luke…”
“You know, the stupid thing is, Reggie and Alex told me how terrible this idea was; they’d barely help me. Even Flynn told me this wasn’t going to work, b ut I thought… I don’t even know what I thought.”
The silence hangs, but finally Julie finds the words. Luke still won’t really look at her, so she scootches closer and puts her head on his shoulder.
“Sometimes… I forget. I forget that you’re gone, that you weren’t always a part of my life. You, all of you, you made everything in my life better. And, when you look at me… I feel like I could stay in that moment forever and be perfectly happy.”
He tilts her chin up, making her look at him. He looks like he’s about to cry, but she blames it on the low light. His fingers trail down her jaw, resting on her carotid, feeling her pulse just under the skin. They’re so close now, she swears she can feel his heart beating.
“You’re so warm…” she says under her breath, more thinking out loud than anything. Really, it’s not that hard to forget that he’s dead.
When he finally kisses her, she swears nothing else in her life will ever feel as amazing as this. Her stomach flutters, a thousand butterflies working through her veins, taking her breath away. It’s so stupidly cliché; she always hated those songs that boiled kisses down to sparks flying and electricity, but it really was like that. It felt like fireworks going off around them, like hearing music for the very first time, like a dance you know every step to, like every other dumb cliché out there. It felt like love. It felt like home.
He doesn’t say or do anything to break the kiss, just vanishes away without another word, tears left on her cheeks. All the candles blow out at once, leaving her alone in the dark. It’s some sort of silent agreement, that they’d have that one moment and that was it, because really that’s all they could have. She stays, catches her breath, tries to lock away all the hurt and fear someplace where it won’t overcome her.
It’s not until she’s back inside the house that she realizes she hadn’t been the one crying.