Dear You

Aubrey pulls away from Pete and cups his face in her hand. Her eyes are closed and Pete's heart is beating so hard he thinks it'll bust straight out of his chest. "You're not my boyfriend now or anything," she murmurs. "I love you, and I kissed you, but you're not my boyfriend. Okay?"

Pete wants to be confused, but understands at the same time. It's a weird feeling, but he gets it. He loves her, he wants to kiss her, but Aubrey isn't his girlfriend. Not yet. Pete leans forward and kisses her again. He smiles against her lips. "Okay."

She flops back onto the bed, resting her head against the pillow, beckoning Pete to follow her lead. He lies across from her on his side, studying her face. She reaches out to hold his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles. "You're so handsome," she whispers.

"Nah," Pete shakes his head bashfully. "I'm funny looking."

"You're beautiful, Peter," she grins at him, running her fingers through his hair. Unlike the first time she'd met him it now has red streaks going through his bangs. "Especially this new hair-do," she jokes.

"Aubrey, like I said before, most people hated me before they loved me," he warns her, his tone serious.

"I don't think I could ever hate you, Pete." Her voice is soft and her eyes are half-lidded to match her smirk. "Not even for a second."

Pete leans into her closer so his lips are just barely touching hers as he tells her "All I want to do is kiss you forever." He feels Aubrey's hand travel to the back of his neck, pushing his head toward her so she can kiss him.

She doesn't remember the rest of the night, a mix of kisses and secrets. Pete confides in her all of his fears about the band, about the new album, about all these feelings he's showing to the public. "It's not fair," Pete whispers in the darkness. His hand is resting against Aubrey's hip, her head tucked under his chin as they lie under the blanket. "That I spill my guts in these songs and they just get picked apart. I mean, I signed myself up for this. It's like therapy but cheaper." He lets out a bitter laugh. "I just get scared, you know?"

"Yeah, Pete, I know." Aubrey nods her head, getting a look at the time, shocked to find it's almost 3 in the morning. "Go to sleep, okay?" She leans up and kisses him slowly, parting her lips against his. He tilts his head to kiss her deeper, and fuck does he love her. She pulls away, tucking her head under his chin again. "Night."

"Night, Aubs," Pete sighs, running his fingers through her hair.

He doesn't fall asleep until the sun starts to come up, captivated by Aubrey beside him. He can't get over her little sighs as she sleeps, cuddling closer into his side, or her long eyelashes, or her little legs intertwined with his. When Aubrey wakes up, around half past nine, Pete's still asleep, his arms above his head, his hair tousled messily. She lies on her side, watching him sleep. She can see the bags under his eyes and she knows he needs the rest, so she doesn't want to wake him just yet. She can't believe she's in love with this boy in her bed. And this was only their second time being together. She and Pete had connected over the months, in ways no one else ever could. Pete understands everything about her, and she does her best to understand him, but somehow she feels like she's lacking.

Pete is just so brilliant it almost scares Aubrey. She's certainly nervous, because there's no way she could ever compare to him. But Pete insists that she's amazing. Which she is, in more ways than one. When Pete had first started talking to Aubrey he didn't know what he was getting himself into. She was the most talented person he'd ever met--in multiple ways. She's a brilliant writer, a painter, a photographer. She's almost finished with school, at the top of her class, naturally. There's just something about her that Pete can't describe or quantify, but it's magical. On the other end of things, Aubrey is completely captivated by her Peter Lewis, his words are powerful, not to mention his looks are an added bonus.

She just can't believe he wouldn't tell her about his band. His famous band. Granted, that's not typically something you bring up the first time you meet someone. Aubrey knows that this is Pete's dream, but she's scared for him. She wants him to be happy more than anything, but she knows how unstable he was, and still is. Pete is a beautiful disaster, and all Aubrey wants is to preserve that beauty.

She's never met someone who has been able to challenge her in the ways that Pete can, and Pete's gotten her to think a lot about what she wants to do with herself. She's gone through a whole new journey of self discovery thanks to him. She has a new-found self awareness. She just wishes sometimes he could take his own advice and see how great he actually is.

Pete yawns, rubs his eyes, and rolls over to face Aubrey. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," she smiles, ruffling his hair. "How'd you sleep?"

"Oh, just lovely. How about you? How long you been up?" Pete's sleepy expression is adorable, to say the least. His eyes are all squinty and his hair is sticking up all over the place. He buries his face in his pillow, reaching out of her hand.

"Just a few minutes. I slept great." She takes his hand in hers.

"I'm still tired. I feel undead."

"Yeah?" She laughs, shifting to lie closer beside him. Pete picks up his head and nods.

"Yeah."

Aubrey gives him a kiss, and even though she should be worried about morning breath and how gross she looks, somehow she forgets about all of that stuff with Pete. She hears Pete inhale a deep breath, and one of his hands rests against the small of her back. "You're my best friend, honeycomb head," she mumbles against his lips. Pete catalogs this phrase as a future song lyric.

"I'm gonna be honest here," he says, pulling away. "First of all, I love that little phrase. I'm keeping it forever. Second, you're not helping my, uh, morning wood."

Aubrey rolls her eyes. "Here, I know something that'll help." She gives him a seductive smirk before rolling off the bed. She crosses the room and exits without another glance. "I'm getting breakfast," she calls, and all she hears from Pete is an Oh, fuck you. She trots downstairs, Pete following close behind. And for the first time in a long time, she can't stop laughing.