Chapter Text
The Flynn-Fletchers’ backyard was silent.
A calm, slightly cool spring breeze lifted the leaves on the branches of the large oak tree, gently swaying the blades of grass, while the soothing songs of birds floated through the harmony. Inside the house, it was much the same. Absolute silence, broken only by the steady ticking of the hallway clock, the unintelligible murmurs from the TV in the living room, and the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
Practically no one was home except for the two siblings. Linda and Lawrence had left for Boston the previous day for an antiques recruitment event, Ferb had gone on what he claimed was – though it wasn’t true – another “non-date” with Emily, and Perry was spending time with Dr. Doofenshmirtz at their Thursday bowling tradition, which had been going on for about a year during the school year. Only Candace, needing to study for law school as her university slowly entered exam season, and Phineas, sitting idly in his (and Ferb’s) room, were present.
He didn’t want to disturb his sister, and without his brother or friends, he couldn’t build anything. The absence of Buford, Baljeet, Django, Irving, or even the Fireside Girls made it impossible. Though, truthfully, he probably couldn’t focus on anything else anyway, since all morning, only one thought occupied his mind – one thing, or rather, one person.
His best friend lived across the street. He had known her since they were four years old. The person, besides Ferb, who knew him best of all. The girl who had slipped into his heart and had no intention of leaving it for a very, VERY long time. The girl whose feelings he realized he had too late, and who probably didn’t feel the same. Could it get worse? Not really. In principle, no. The idea of having a crush on Isabella, without being best friends, without talking much, seemed far less painful than their current relationship.
He sighed miserably into his pillow before pushing off with his left hand and collapsing onto his back like a pancake. He stared at the ceiling, where tiny stars shimmered, ironically stuck there by Isabella herself during the last sleepover of the Gang at their house. The memory crept into his mind, returning him to the moment when he had given in to her requests and they had stuck the stars together. He smiled warmly at the imagined image before his eyes, depicting them close together, brushing shoulders, or moments like when Phineas helped Isabella reach the ceiling.
“I have to do something about this,” he muttered weakly to himself, covering his face with his hands.
Falling for Isabella Garcia-Shapiro was one of the best feelings he could ever have. Even satisfaction from school achievements or building inventions didn’t make him as happy as this. Yet the best feeling was also the worst. Constantly thinking about her, her personality, imagining how she would act in a situation, how sweet she was, how she dressed. And still, imagining running his fingers through her hair without reason, or simply playing with it. Touching her face…
No, stop, Phin. You’re overthinking again, he shook himself, sitting up. He looked around the bedroom with darting eyes, then jumped off the bed and went into the hallway. He paused briefly at Candace’s door, cracking it open slightly to see his sister amid notes spread across the bed. She was energetically typing, the characteristic clicking of keys echoing in the quiet room. Leaving her to her studies, he continued on.
He passed through the living room, turning off the still-running TV along the way, until he reached the front door. He left the house, and his legs carried him across the street (after checking both ways, of course), finally stopping at the porch. For several tense seconds, he stared at the brown door, then took a deep breath, calming his racing heart, and entered without knocking.
For about four years, there had been an unspoken rule between the two families: no need to knock; one could enter as if it were their own home. The Flynn-Fletchers and the Garcia-Shapiro trusted each other deeply, and thanks to Isabella’s friendship with the boys – and sometimes with Candace – their bond had grown strong enough to treat each other like one family. Plus, Linda, Lawrence, and Vivian believed that one day Isabella would confess her feelings to Phineas, or Phineas would “realize” his feelings for Isabella and confess.
Passing the kitchen and living room, Phineas entered a small hallway with three doors: one to Vivian’s bedroom, one to the bathroom, and the third to…
“Okay… I can do this,” he whispered, standing in front of the light pink door adorned with three purple hearts and the name “Isabella.” Wiping his sweaty hands on his hoodie, he knocked gently with his knuckles, then slightly opened the door. “Whatcha doin'?” he hummed nervously.
The girl with raven-black hair streaked with navy highlights lifted her head from the purple notebook. Realizing who had arrived, she hurriedly hid the notebook under her pillow. She gave him a crooked smile, nervously adjusting her tilted bow.
“Spring cleaning,” she replied curtly, sliding off the edge of her bed. Folding her arms behind her back, she approached her best friend and raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?” she asked sweetly, almost melting Phineas’s heart. He nearly swooned.
He shrugged casually. “I had nothing to do at home… Candace is studying because her university is in exam season, Ferb went on a non-date with Ems, Buford and Baljeet… I don’t know. Perry is bowling with Dr. Doof,” he explained, feeling the need to justify himself.
“So… you came to me…” she said uncertainly, hesitating. And she had reason to. What Phineas said suggested he was simply bored, and she was the only option left. “Oh… Okay, sure.”
Phineas frowned; the tone Isabella used hit him sharply, making his chest tighten. “Hey, hey. Don’t make up absurd scenarios, Bells.”
“What kind of ‘absurd scenarios’?” she laughed melodically, raising both brows in surprise. He smiled fondly and approached her bed, perching on it with his elbows on his knees. He chuckled.
“The ones where you imagine things I didn’t say,” he said, scanning her from head to toe, biting his cheek lightly. Since they were thirteen, Isabella had started wearing crop tops more often. Ironically, she wore a short-sleeved white top that revealed a hint of her stomach. Combined with gray sweatpants...
Yeah, he was doomed.
“Do you want something to drink?” Her quiet voice snapped him out of his strange trance. He lifted his gaze to her face, now flushed purple.
He chuckled softly. “Orange juice? Freshly squeezed?”
She licked the inside of her cheek, glancing at the floor. “I don’t have any, but I can make some. Oh! Mom left some cookies – I’ll bring them!” Before he could say anything, she ran out of the room.
Silence returned. Playing with his fingers, his eyes drifted involuntarily toward the decorative pillow hiding the mysterious notebook. Biting his lip almost to the point of bleeding, he summoned the last of his willpower…
Before he knew it, his hands had lifted the pillow and retrieved the purple notebook. Slowly, he opened it, revealing a full page. The handwriting of eleven-year-old Isabella made him smile, and the tiny hearts melted him.
Ignoring all doubts or thoughts of “Don’t do this, Flynn!” – he settled comfortably, crossed his legs, and began reading:
hand touch:
smiling???
first bump:
zero affection?
OR
deviation from the norm?
Frowning in confusion, he brought the notebook closer, absorbing every word. A strange tightness in his stomach appeared at the faint memory from four years ago, during the vendpocalypse, when he probably first and last saw this notebook. He swallowed hard, tasting bitterness. He absently ran his tongue over his upper teeth, then licked his chapped lips, craving juice.
As if on cue, Isabella returned, concentrating on carrying a full glass of juice in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other. Phineas froze, watching her place the items on the nightstand, then look at him with a gentle smile. They stared at each other for several long seconds – Isabella with joy, Phineas with fear – until her eyes dropped.
“Phineas…” Her voice caught, and her body wouldn’t move. She steadied herself on the edge of the desk, swaying slightly, holding her breath, face pale as a wall, pupils dilated, temples throbbing, cold sweat running down her neck. “G- give me that,” she stammered, frightened.
Phineas glanced at what he had thought was an innocent, meaningless object. He clasped it with both hands, lifted his head, slowly moved to the other half of the bed, hiding the notebook behind his back, and moved his lips silently.
“Bells…” The way he said her nickname almost made her faint. She hated herself for being softened so easily. She wasn’t sure whether falling for Phineas Flynn was a blessing or a curse. “I…”
“Give it back, Phineas,” Isabella interrupted, leaping at him. She landed on her knees, trying to reach her property. When his arm holding the notebook recoiled, she lunged at him without hesitation. The mattress creaked under the weight of two fifteen-year-olds, one on top of the other. Phineas’s arm automatically wrapped around Isabella’s waist, feeling pleasant shivers down his spine, touching exposed skin at her lower back. Without ceremony, he nudged her slightly off, tossing the notebook aside. “Damn…” she gasped, flustered, brushing hair from her face.
The whole situation shook her so much that she barely noticed the position they were in. It only registered when the cool tips of his fingers brushed lightly against her exposed skin beneath her top. She froze, propping herself on her elbow, looking down at him lying on his back with that sly grin.
Wait… what? Phineas Flynn just… No. Impossible. Thousands of thoughts raced through her mind, but she pushed them all away as if they were forbidden. He never smiled like that – she finished the thought. She swallowed the lump in her throat with difficulty, trying to do it discreetly. It didn’t work.
“You nervous?” Flynn’s grin widened as he propped himself up on his right elbow. With no choice, she also rose, lowering her gaze, too shy to meet his eyes, and began digging her nails into her palm. “First: don’t do that,” he gently chided, placing his hand over hers. “Second: answer me, Bells, please.”
“You… you know… those notes…?” she stammered, struggling to hold back the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. With a soft smile, Phineas brushed them away with his thumb.
“That you analyzed every gesture I made toward you? Turtle, hand-holding, and how strong the grip was…” he listed teasingly, eliciting a pitiful whine from the raven-haired girl. She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head.
“That sounds awful coming from you!” she sniffled, wiping her nose.
“Well, it helped me understand that we’re both completely clueless,” he shrugged carefreely, reaching for the forgotten notebook. He flipped through the pages before opening the first one. “‘Touch of hands: smile, first touch: no affection…’” he read, pausing as he heard her sob quietly.
“This is humiliating,” she muttered softly, lifting her glassy eyes to him. She exhaled sharply. “I’m pathetic…”
“Bells…” he replied gently, tilting his head adorably. “What did I say first?” he raised an eyebrow.
“What…?” she closed her mouth, wide-eyed. “What do you mean by ‘we’re both clueless’?” she asked softly. A mysterious gleam appeared in Phineas’s eyes – one Isabella had never noticed before.
“For all our friends, I built inventions whenever they had any problem, even small ones. That’s a fact,” he took a deep breath, smiling shyly. “But… did you realize how many I built for you?”
She blinked, stunned. “I- I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“I’ve always loved inventions. All our friends laughed about it, calling it my ‘first love,’” he rolled his eyes playfully. “Not entirely. Of course, I loved building and didn’t know what else to do… You saw how I was when we climbed Danville Mountain without any invention, just because Baljeet asked,” he laughed.
“You were crazy,” she shook her head.
“Mhm, yeah… Remember when we went around the world in a single day?” He drew a circle in the air with his hand. Isabella held her breath, memories flooding her mind. She almost cried again remembering how Phineas had ignored her in Paris… “When we were stuck on that deserted island, I lost all hope… You brought it back, Bells,” he said, looking straight into her eyes.
Warmth spread through young Garcia-Shapiro’s chest, and a smile naturally formed on her lips. “Trivial,” she dismissed him.
He shook his head. “You were always there for me, no matter what. Then… I realized something really important.” He took both her hands in his, inhaled deeply, and spoke again without breaking eye contact. “I like you, like you. Not platonically.”
“Phineas…” she whispered, shaking her head. “I like-you-like-you. Not platonically, like… Jeremy's Candace!” she exclaimed suddenly, standing up sharply. The frustration at his cluelessness swirled in her chest, making it hard to process the new information.
“I know, me too,” he muttered, standing as well. He faced her, forcing her to lift her head to meet his gaze, their bodies almost touching.
“You don’t understand” she exclaimed, tilting her head back with a groan. Slight irritation flitted across Phineas as he pressed his lips together. “I…” she faltered, glancing around her room. Returning her gaze to his face, their eyes met once more. “I love you.”
“Isabella.” he said firmly, closing the distance between them. He held her shoulders, keeping her from pulling away. “I love you too, purely non-platonically.” The words escaped his mouth effortlessly, despite all previous fears. He wasn’t afraid of how his best friend would react since she had just admitted the same.
Seeing her start to open her mouth while shaking her head side to side, he rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed. Without hesitation, he cupped her chin with both hands and kissed her quickly before she could respond. He pulled back just a millimeter, observing the confused look on his “best friend’s” face with satisfaction. He laughed softly, then kissed her again, wiping off the remnants of strawberry gloss. She felt as if her air supply had been cut off. Or worse – she was drifting again into Phineas-Land.
“Phin…” she couldn’t finish as she felt his lips on hers again.
She stifled a moan, feeling the warmth of his lips against hers. She returned the kiss, hands hesitatingly resting on his forearms. Fear and uncertainty melted away, replaced by desire and longing. His tongue entered her mouth, touching her palate, and her knees weakened. He let go of her jaw more confidently, moving his hands down to hold her under the thighs. Isabella let out a muffled squeak as he lifted her. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist and arms around his neck, letting him take her wherever. Placing her on the desk, he stood between her legs, slightly bewildered by his own actions.
All this chaos was interrupted by the rumble of an engine. They broke apart, breathing heavily, glancing through the window at the driveway. Vivian’s blue car parked right in front of the house, and the woman stepping out had no idea what her daughter had just experienced. Flustered, Isabella cleared her throat awkwardly, turning toward Phineas, who was smiling blissfully.
“You’re looking a little dreamy,” she teased, tilting her head with a meaningful smile. He grinned like an idiot, running his tongue over his teeth.
“Maybe because I just kissed my best friend, the one I’ve secretly loved for years?” he said provocatively, raising an eyebrow as he leaned closer. Completely forgetting about Vivian’s return, they prepared for another round of kisses – if not for the creak of the front door.
“Isa, I’m back!” the teen’s mother announced, with bags rustling in the background. The embarrassed couple pulled apart, and Isabella slowly stepped down from the desk, leaning against the furniture, trying to return to reality. She stared blankly at the door as Vivian opened it. “Oh, hello, Phineas. How’s it going?”
“Good morning, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro. Everything’s perfectly fine,” he gave her a sincere smile, glancing significantly at Isabella, whose cheeks were deeply flushed.
“Phineas, I told you to call me by my first name,” she scolded lightly, making him shrug. “Alright, I’m going to make a tortilla. I won’t disturb you kids,” she winked and left, closing the door behind her. The couple exchanged a knowing glance before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.