#veronica's poem was found on pinterest
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marshmallowatheart · 6 years ago
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To All The Boys I've Loved Before (Part 30)
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Dear Veronica,
Kissing you feels like the start of a new season, the sun in the early morning, and moonlight reflecting on the ocean. There is never a moment that I don’t think about your lips and how they make me feel when they are on mine.
I wish I were kissing you instead of just writing about it.
- L
P.S. You look beautiful today. You always do.
Veronica’s grin breaks through her face as she reads the note again and again. She bites her lip, grinning and embraces the feeling of being the absolute giddy teenage girl that she's come to be.
She’d fallen asleep with a smile the night they'd admitted to wanting them to be real and she'd been falling asleep smiling ever since with memories of his lips on hers and his confession of love playing in her mind. Logan Echolls really should come with a warning label and a list of side-effects; it's barely been a week and she feels addicted.
They’re in Journalism class when he slips her his note, he’s talking to Dick – hands wild and grin blazing as he talks about the upcoming surf competition they’re both sure to participate in when she reads the little poem he’s found for her. She softly smiles as he chatters on and she decidingly puts pen to paper.
Dear Logan,
things that fall
petals
tear drops
snowflakes
rain
stars
tides
eyelids
time
shadows
leaves
the sun
and I,
for you.
She’d seen this little snippet at a time when she'd thought her love unrequited. Ever since Logan had come back into her life and re-familiarised himself with her heart every little love poem, sappy quote, meaningful lyric became about him.
She’d never thought she’d actually share them with him but she hasn't responded to his notes before and she finds herself wanting to know if he'll smile at her note like she does at his.
She glances at his note, biting down on her lip and continues to write.
I love the way I feel when your lips are on mine.
- V
P.S. I wish you were kissing me too.
She folds it up, inks his name on the outside like he does with hers and lets it sit beneath her book as she waits for him to return to his seat beside her.
She hasn't actually given anyone a love note before. She's written her letters but those were just for her and she hadn't been the one to send them out - she didn't get the chance to feel the anticipation brim up inside her as the letters ventured out into the hands of the objects of her once affections.
She thinks that she could slip the note into his book and wait for him to open it but he's Logan and chances are he'll snark his way through class until the bell rings without opening his book. She could slip it into his pocket like he's done before but she doesn't think she can pull it off in the sauve way that he can. She could let it sit in his locker but she wants him to see it as soon as possible because her nerves are building as the note sleeps under her hardcover book.
He spins himself into his seat as Ms Dent begins to talk about layouts and interviews and things that Veronica should be listening to but can't seem to care about; she's got her on-going assignment and she knows she's not going to be asked to submit anything else along with it.
Her eyes find his brown ones between the chaos of their classmates negotiating on their assigned pieces. They're next to each other but not close enough to be touching
It's become devastatingly difficult to not touch him because she wants to feel his skin under the tips of her fingers and she wants to let herself fall in a spell of his fingers against her skin. Her body aches with the memory of his fingers on her neck and his lips on her jaw and it wants more.
She bites on her bottom lip and his eyes are immediately drawn south to her coloured lips that's peach, glossy and sweet - she thinks of his note and how he wishes he were kissing her - she finds herself looking at his lips too.
He looks like he wants to say something, whisper something to her, let his fingers touch her skin but he stays silent and tries to refocus, taking deep breaths and she knows that he's thinking about the four minute heated make out session they had in his car before they had to enter school this morning.
She sucks in a breath and leans closer to him. He moves forward, meeting her half way and she holds out her note for him between two fingers like it's something she's casually doing and she hopes it hides how much thought she's put into the simple act of passing him a little note - an act he's able to do everyday without a second thought.
She doesn't feel too confident about how she gave him the note, her body is jittery and she needs to turn away because his eyes are smouldery and his lips are looking as kissable as ever.
He looks surprised and soft and gentle and happy and she doesn't understand how his name sprawled on a folded side of the piece of paper incites so much of feeling into his brown eyes.
She looks away as he opens her note because as much as she wants to see his reaction to her words, her heart is beating a bit too fast and she's not sure if she can handle seeing his smouldering eyes without kissing him right here in the middle of class.
The minutes drag on to what seems like forever and the moment class is over he pulls her into the girls bathroom, slapping her out of order sign on the door - once again making use of the little red warning sign she initially only used for investigative purposes.
She's propped up on the bathroom counter, legs wrapped around his waist and his mouth on hers - hard, long, needy kisses.
Their hands are tangled around one another, grasping for closeness as they squeeze in their need for each other in the five very short minutes they have until their next class.
They haven't had time to be alone since their confession of wanting their relationship to be real. She's had soccer practice and Heather shaped obligations she's taken on while he's getting ready for surf competitions and accompanying his mother to formal events she'd rather not be alone at. The only time she's gotten to see him when he picks her and Heather up for school, at school and when he drops them home.
All they've had this week were stolen kisses between hours, brushing of hands as they go their separate ways coupled with heated glances from across the hallway. And Logan's little notes. Notes that flame the fires within her and make her feel the ache of not having him to herself now when he's finally hers to have.
They're late to their next class and Veronica's grateful for the tardy slips she's kept from months ago.
--vm--
It's Friday night and there's parties being thrown and appearances needed to be made but Veronica's home baking last minute cookies for Heather and her friends because she's written sleepover on Meg's to-do board that's hung on the side of the fridge and her dad is still working the night shift so she's got supervision duties.
She's working fast, shaping up cookies and baking them as quick as she possibly can. Her hair is a mess, the kitchen is a mess and the once neatly organised planner board is a mess. She remembers Heather swooning about Nutella filled crepes and fruit filled crepes and dozens of other homemade options that she'd had at her last slumber party because Lauren's mother is a perfectionist. Meg's never let them feel disappointment over not having something other kids had, she worked hard at cultivating fancy dishes and napkins and organising entertainment. Veronica wasn't about to be the one that damaged her sister's childhood.
"Ronica? Are you done yet?" Heather asks, tilting her head as she throws her bag on the side of the couch. "I need to be at Ophelia's in like thirty minutes so we have a bit of time before the sleepover."
Veronica's brows furrow, still working on the cookies, trying to be fast and diligent at the same time. "Why doesn't she come over here? I mean wouldn't that be easier?"
Her sister shoots her a quizzical look, plopping on a bar stole and stealing a bit of cookie dough. "Uhm no, we're staying over at her place, I told you this last week."
"Wait," Veronica stops, hands resting on the counter top as she looks at her sister in her eyes. "The sleepover isn't here?"
"No," Heather shakes her head, oblivious to her sister's incredulous expression as she licks her fingers. "Why would you think that?"
"Because," the older Mars blows out. "The board. Sleepover," she says and wants to hit her head for not being specific enough. She sighs. "Let's wait for this batch to be done, it'll take ten minutes more to bake and you can take it with you to Ophelia's."
Heather beams, bright eyes and toothy grin. "Thanks, Ronica."
She gives her sister a soft smile before she asks, "So are you and Ophelia good? I mean, did you talk to her?"
"I didn't have to," the little girl starts her story. "I saw Ophelia give Ryan her red balloon. She loves balloons. She wouldn't even let me have a balloon and I'm her best friend."
Veronica's brows furrow as she continues to stare at her little sister. "Because you always pop your balloons. It's like you're a human cactus."
Heather shoots her a glare. "Whatever. You don't understand how it looked under the sunset sky and the two of them smiling at each other. And she told him that she likes him."
"Were you spying on them?" Veronica asks, brow arched and tries to put on a disapproving face - she either fails or Heather doesn't take notice.
"I was observing my friends from a distance," the little blonde reasons.
"Uh-huh. Heather -"
Her sister doesn't let her finish as she continues with her story, "It's only after we went on the Ferris Wheel and Ryan gave me the red balloon that I realized that Ophelia was only trying to help him because she liked him as a friend."
"He gave it to you? I didn't see you with a balloon."
"Because it got popped," Heather tells her, sighing loudly like she misses the balloon. "Ophelia knew it would too. She thought it might break the ice between us, give us something to laugh at because I get nervous around him," she explains everything so quickly that Veronica almost doesn't catch the end bit but thankfully she's trained herself to be an attentive listener.
"Heather Mars, nervous?" Veronica clunks her tongue with the roof of her mouth. She looks at her sister nostalgically and says, "You're growing up way too fast."
--vm--
She texts Logan about her change of plans when she gets home from dropping Heather off. He doesn't ask her to come to the party with him, she doesn't really want to go but she feels disappointed that he doesn't offer because she does want to spend time with him even if it means sharing him with his friends.
She turns on her music, puts her apron back on, starts to finish off making the cookies and tries to let go of her woes for the night.
It's when she's cleaning up the mess she's made in the kitchen that she hears the unexpected chime of the door bell. Grinning before her, clad in a green shirt and blue jeans is her brown eyed, snarky and hot mouthed boyfriend.
"Hey," he lets out, soft and needy and she honestly wasn't expecting him to be here at her doorstep tonight.
"Hey," she breaths out, head tilted slightly, curious eyes and appreciative smile because she's happy that he's here. She missed him.
"Kiss the Baker," he reads, trademark smirk on his lips, looking at her with twinkling eyes as he comes in.
She closes the door behind him and gives him a curious look, he pointedly gestures to her apron with his brows and she chuckles, rolling her eyes.
He moves in closer to her, eyes set on hers as his arms come to wrap around her waist. "Who am I to deny the embedded command of the apron makers?"
She chuckles, teasing grin falling on her lips as she stares up at him with equal playfulness. Her arms snake up his sides and she adds, "You wouldn't want to upset them."
"Mm," he bops her nose with his before leaning in and whispering, "I wouldn't want that."
She sucks in slightly when his warm breath lingers on her lips before he closes the gap between them, capturing her lips with his in a sweet, sensual kiss.
He smiles, breaking from her before it got too deep. "Is that cookies I smell?"
She doesn't answer him, instead she moves her hands to his neck and pulls him back down to her, kissing him deeper and longer than their initial kiss. He has no qualms taking her into his arms and falling into the their kiss or the kisses that follow.
It feels good to not be in a race against time, they're on her couch when Veronica finds herself glancing at the clock. She knows that Casey Gant's party has already started so she asks Logan about it and all he does is inaudibly mumble against her skin and she can't help but chuckle in response. "I thought you wanted to go to the party?"
He nuzzles his nose into her hair and murmurs into her skin, "Not tonight. It's been too long since I've hand my Veronica full. I want to be selfish with you for a little bit longer."
He kisses her neck, lightly sucking careful to not leave a mark - not that he doesn't want to but he knows it'll be awkward for her and he doesn't want to put her in that position.
She aches into him at his words, lightly nods, his lips now pepping shoulder kisses as she airs out, "I didn't want to go to the party anyway."
He smiles against her neck, his nose pressing hard against her and she doesn't know why his nose of all parts of his body but it does.
She pulls back slightly, nudging his head up with her hands and kissing him senselessly. She's so filled with want and need and uncharted desire that she doesn't really know what to do with it. She just knows that she wants to kiss him until their lips are swollen and numb to the point where they can't kiss anymore.
Her lips find his neck, she peps kisses like he had done for her and he moves his neck easily to accommodate her. Her kisses line up to his jaw before she finds her way back to the crook of his neck and lightly sucks and bites. He groans, his neck leaning into her with force she hasn't felt before and she likes it. She wants him to do that more, make noises and press his body tighter against her.
He pulls away, capturing her face with his hands, he brings her mouth to his, kissing her fully and pouring his need into her. Their eyes are closed as they lean into each other, gasping silently for air between their long drawn kisses.
Her throat feels dry and the house is quiet reminding her of how alone they are. "Do you wanna go upstairs?" She means to be suggestive but she doesn't really know how to be especially not when he's pressed against her like this and she's melting into his touch. She thinks that the suggestion is obvious enough given the context of their position.
He leans in harder into her before bowing out. "I don't think that's a good idea," he breaths out.
"Oh," she lets out, disappointing breaking through the silence.
He tightens his hold on her, silently begging for her to not misunderstand him. "I don't want us to move too fast," he tries to explain, he's never had to have this particular conversation before but he often finds himself getting lost in the taste of Veronica and it takes everything in him to break away. They're alone in this house but he knows the sanctity of the couch will preserve him some limitations that her bedroom doesn't offer. He doesn't want her to regret him.
She nods her head against him, insecurity rattling it's way up her spine and he wants to assure her but his methods come in ways that he doesn't think she's ready for so he takes a minute and tries to gather his words. He holds onto her, letting his touch assure her until his words can. "I want you so much, Veronica," he finally whispers against the silence. "I don't want to ruin us by being too selfish."
"How is it selfish if I want you too?" She whimpers out against him. She doesn't know what she's promising. She wants his skin against hers. She wants him in her arms and she wants his mouth on her lips, her neck and everywhere his hands touch. He makes her want more but she's not sure what exactly more is yet.
He whispers his love against her skin and she revels in the glory that it brings. He doesn't move them to her room and she's silently relieved because she finds herself wanting more than she's ready for and she's not sure how he knows but she's thankful that he does.
They switch on a movie, wrapped in each other, fingers caressing skin and kisses in between snarky remarks. It's calmer than before and it feels good to just be in his arms.
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