A/N: Hey! So here is my story for Addict. So you're leaving. What can I say, excpet that we will all miss you and it will be a big loss for this fandom? I've never spoken to an author so much in my life, I swear. I hope we will still do that, because you're an awesome penpal! I hope you will like our stories, that you will still read our things, (even if it's in the dark), and that you will still write for the fun of it, even if you don't publish anything.

So, here is my story for you, Addict. I really hope it will please you.

And also, to get inspired and write this story, I listened to this song: In the end, by Marcus Warner. I suggest you to listen to it to get all the feels possible ;)

Enjoy!

OF FLOWERS AND FIRES

Why are we here? Are we just on this planet because someone brought us here, without any particular goal? Or are we actually here to accomplish something spectacular, something that will change the world forever?

I think of this question night and day; when I wake up, when I eat, when I shower, even when I sleep. It haunts me. My parents once told me to live normally, without worrying about anything of that sort. They told me it didn't matter. But I don't agree.

In my opinion, we are all here for a reason. Either to accomplish something big, or to be something big.

I don't live in a palace. My family isn't rich, and I don't have everything I want. I don't have any special skills, and I am not perfect.

I am an ordinary girl who lives in a little town, with her parents and her brother.

Yes, I am more than normal.

And that is what made the difference, in the end.

oOo

"Dan!" she screamed, walking down the stairs furiously.

This time, she wouldn't let him. Not again.

"Dan!" she repeated. "Come here this instant! I'm tired of running after you."

She scanned the room for her annoying little brother, but couldn't see him anywhere. She frowned, even more angry.

"I'm going to tell Mom and Dad, I swear!"

"I'm going to tell Mom and Dad, I swear!" a little and high-pitched voice repeated her words mockingly.

She jumped, looking around her. Where was he? She turned on her heels, but this little imp was nowhere to be seen. She clenched her fists, red in the face. Why her parents had to have another child, anyway? Weren't they happy with her, their daughter? No, they just had to make this excuse for a brother, and now she was stuck with him. She had to look after him constantly, making sure he wouldn't hurt himself in their parent's absence. She had to be nice with him, and not make him cry. But that was hard; this kid could tear up just because a fly landed on him.

"Dan!" she yelled, more than furious now.

He didn't answer, and that was too much for her. She ran in her mother's office, where she knew she would be.

"Mom! Mom!" she screamed, in a really childish way.

She knew she was having a fit, that she was 'going bananas', like her father loved to say.

"What is it, darling? Why are you screaming like this?"

Her mother stood up from her desk and bent down to look at her in the eyes. She saw how red her daughter's face was and noted the little tears in her eyes.

"Dan won't let me play with the ball! He keeps running away with it, and won't give it to me!"

She began crying, rubbing her eyes. She felt ashamed to do such a thing in front of her mother. She wished she could be as strong as her, she wished she knew how to keep her emotions under control. After all, it was her who was the big sister. And it was Dan who was supposed to cry like a baby, not her.

"Why don't you play with him, then?" her mother asked.

"He doesn't want to play with me." she answered, her voice weak.

"Oh? Why's that?"

Amy looked down, sadness in her eyes.

"He says I suck."

Her mother chuckled, stroking her daughter's hair.

"Amy, darling. All the little boys think that about their sisters."

"Really?"

"Well, maybe some don't, but there is nothing to be sad about. Your brother loves you and you're a really important person to him."

Amy looked at Hope, a little smile forming at her lips. Her mother grinned. She was beautiful when she acted so shy. But then, Amy pouted and she looked down again.

"But I can't play with the ball."

"I'll take care of it."

She left the room, and Amy watched her go, wondering what she would do to convince him.

A few minutes later, her mother returned in her office and gave a delightful Amy the red ball.

"You can play with it," she said. "Dan and I are going to make cupcakes."

Amy thanked her, kissing her on the cheek, and ran in the garden with her treasure in hand.

She made it bounce a few times, laughing when it got too high for her. She tried catching it, but the sun was blinding her and she missed it. The red ball rolled down the garden, and Amy ran after it. She jumped over a few rocks and avoided the bushes that demarcated the end of their garden. With a look of horror, she saw the ball roll under one of them, disappearing out of her property.

She abruptly stopped in her tracks. What should she do? Her parents both told her not to leave their property without their permission, in any circumstances, but she didn't want to ask her mother for help. She thought she was big enough to go and get it back on herself. Besides, she would come back right after, so it wasn't a big deal. Right?

She slid under the big bushes, wincing when their branches grazed her delicate skin. After a few seconds, she managed to extract herself from this big green mess and saw the light again. She scanned her surroundings, looking for her dear ball. She was in a big field, its gold colour amazing her. She had always loved those kind of landscapes. The wind was blowing softly, making the wheat dance. She giggled. During a second, she imagined the field dancing for her, welcoming her.

The sky was blue, not a cloud running the picture. It was a hot day of summer, and she was glad she put on her shorts today. She heard her parents talk this morning about this day being the hottest one since a long time.

Suddenly, she caught a red glimpse between the wheats, and realised it was her ball. She sighed. Another thing she wasn't allowed to do. There were snakes in there, and if she got stung by one of them, she would have to explain why she adventured herself in there.

Oh, who cares? It's just little snakes; they won't have the time to attack me.

She put a hesitant foot in the field, as if one would suddenly come out from his hiding place and bite her. But nothing happened, and she entered in it further. She quickly grabbed the toy and backed away, not really wanting to stay longer.

Wow, I did something forbidden! she thought, truly excited.

Usually, she wouldn't do such a thing, like disobeying her parents' orders, but today was a special day. She felt big.

She looked at the red ball in her hands and smiled. Once again, she made it bounce on the floor, enjoying the sweet sound it made.

She moved with the ball, not realising she was leaving her house even more. She followed a little path and looked around her. It was so beautiful here! She could see flowers at her feet, in all the colours possible. Red, blue, pink, yellow, purple…

The ball escaped her hands and she quickly ran after it. When she finally arrived where it landed, she found herself in the middle of a park.

She felt panic wash over her. She didn't want to see other kids, let alone be seen by other kids. She looked around her, worried, but didn't see anyone. It was strange, she thought. They were in the middle of July; there should be plenty of children playing here!

She stayed like that for a few seconds, but then shrugged. Good for her. She had the whole park for herself.

She played with her toy for a while, but quickly got bored. She was about to leave when an idea popped in her mind. What if she tried to make it bounce the furthest possible? She examined the place and decided there was enough room for her to try. She positioned herself at the end of the park and made the ball rebound on the floor. She watched it go high in the sky, shielding her eyes with her hand. It was about to land at the other end when it touched a swing. The red toy went flying across the park, and Amy watched it, powerless, leave the place to go on the road. She heard cars stop abruptly, their wheels squeaking on the asphalt, and she winced, putting her head in her hands.

She was about to go and see if she could take it back when someone appeared at the entrance. It was a little boy and Amy saw he had her ball in his hands. She gasped, hesitating. Should she approach him? She didn't want to, but he had what she wanted…

"Is that yours?" the boy asked.

Amy nodded, not saying a word. The boy was really handsome. With his jet black hair and his golden eyes (like the field!), he looked like a prince. A little prince.

"You really should be more careful," he continued, and Amy noticed he had a different accent from hers. "You could kill someone like that."

She nodded once more, not knowing what to say. Instead, she just reached out her hands for him to hand her the ball. During one second, one tiny second, she thought he wouldn't give it to her and keep it for himself.

But finally, he gave it back to her and she thanked him. He had a look of disgust on his face and she wondered what was wrong. Was the ball dirty? She checked it, but didn't see anything. She frowned. Was it her?

"W-What?" she asked, looking at her arms and legs. "Do-Do I have s-something on my n-nose?"

"Huh?" the boy seemed surprised.

"Y-You have t-that weird l-look on your f-face. Am I… disgusting y-you?"

The boy was speechless for a second, and was it her imagination, or did he look even more outraged by her stuttering? She felt her face reddening and the urge to hide was suddenly too strong. She shifted her feet, uncomfortable.

"No, nothing's wrong. Except what you're wearing. My mother told me it was only the… er… bad girls who wear that kind of clothes."

She widened her eyes.

"W-What is wr-wr-wrong with m-my clothes?"

She looked down at herself, really wondering what was bothering him. She looked at him. He was wearing a white shirt with black pants she only saw adults wore, the ones you could see in the movies. He had his hands in his pocket and had an air of superiority. She blushed even more.

"Your shorts are… inappropriate."

"Wh-What? Why?"

"You'll understand when you are older."

She opened her eyes wide and starred at him, truly astonished.

"But… But… We're the same age!" she exclaimed.

He arched an eyebrow, still with this supremacy air.

"How do you know?" he asked her, passing a hand in his hair.

The gesture messed it up a bit, but Amy, angry at herself for thinking that, found him even more beautiful.

"It's obvious. We're both around seven."

He rolled his eyes and turned around. He was about to leave when he told her,

"Mom says girls should only wear dresses. That's what Natalie does."

Suddenly, anger washed over her and she saw red. Who did he think he was, talking to her like that? It wasn't her fault his mother was a snobby witch and he was stuck with her. She liked her shorts, and he wasn't going to insult her like that.

She threw the ball at his head, and it rebounded on it, making a loud 'bwomp!' He sharply turned around, glaring daggers at her, and she smiled triumphantly.

"You're going to regret this!" he yelled.

"O-Oh y-yeah? A-And w-what you're g-going t-to do?"

"I'm-I'm… I am going to tell my mom! That's what I'm going to do, you little peasant!"

Her face dropped but she quickly hid it so he wouldn't notice.

"I am v-very scared right n-now."

He suddenly smirked, putting a hand in his pocket.

"I know that. You're always stuttering."

His tone was mean and her heart hurt a bit.

"It d-doesn't h-have an-anything to d-do with th-that. M-My doctor says it-it's a social di-disease."

He scoffed.

"Sure. You peasants are weird."

His accent was thick, even more than earlier, and she thought it gave him a snobby air.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

He arched his eyebrows, surprised by this sudden change of topic.

"From England," he said. "Did you really think I'd live here, in what you call a country?"

"E-England? Well, I-I hope you'll choke on your pudding, you p-prat!"

And with that she turned around, picking up her ball. She heard him gasp in shock… and grinned.

oOo

Amy sighed, making a strand of her hair fly in front of her eyes. She watched it go high in the air, above her face, and fall.

She would have loved to do that the next two hours, but unfortunately, she had to go to the sport.

She hated her class. The only person she liked was a girl named Cassie, but she wasn't here today. She had called sick this morning, pretexting she had a terrible stomach ache, but Amy suspected her to do that just because of the sport.

It was understandable, after all. Their teacher, a psychopath with white hair, made them do things that kids in the Early Middle Ages did. Amy was sure he chose to be a professor just to torture his students.

"Amy! Watch out!"

She turned around, her ponytail flying around her. She saw the ball, but didn't get to catch it. She was too late. Before she could do anything, she received it right in the face, and almost fell backwards.

A tiny pair of arms caught her right in time, and she thanked the girl who saved her.

"It's ok," Stephanie replied. "But next time, be careful. We're going to lose because of you, Amy!"

She blushed and looked down, nodding at her. With a feeling of shame, she saw that everyone was looking at her, either trying to hide their laughter or sending her daggers.

She pulled at her pair of shorts, feeling uncomfortable. She looked at who sent her the ball, and saw it was him. She glared at him, red in the face because of the anger. He was smiling and laughing with his stupid friends, his black hair shining under the gymnasium's white light.

She stomped over at him, not caring if she looked like an idiot or not. Her head was throbbing because of the pain and she was almost seeing stars dancing in front of her.

"You think it's funny?" she yelled.

He shrugged, still laughing a bit. Tears were falling from his eyes and he looked like he was having the time of his life. She breathed deeply to calm down.

"I don't know," he answered. "Do you?"

"I'll tell you what is funny. That you think you're so cool and popular while you're not! I think you're funny because you look a fool in front of everyone."

His face hardened and he didn't seem amused anymore.

"Well, at least I am not the one who got a bloody ball in the face." he spat at her.

His accent was thick, just like every time he got angry. She remembered that one time when a boy spilled his meal at him, in the middle of the cafeteria and in front of everyone, staining his white shirt with red sauce. He had furiously yelled at him, the poor boy searching for help in the eyes of everyone. Ian had yelled words that even she was shocked of, making clear that he was from England. She remembered that, even in that situation, where she would have loved to punch him in the face, she had felt the urge to grab his face and kiss him.

She blushed at the memory, and she hoped he would think it was because of his hurtful words. Yes, she had dreamt about him at night, doing things she couldn't even word when she was alone. But she couldn't help it.

Her train of thoughts was interrupted when she saw his friends walk away, and him staying there in front of her. He was staring intently at her, his eyes having softened a bit, and she was forced to look away. He was so intimidating. She hated him for that.

The teacher called them back for a second game. She was about to walk away, her head down, when he grabbed her wrist. His grip was firm but soft at the same time, and had something in it different than usual. She held back a shiver.

He stared at her, and bent down to murmur in her ear,

"It's for that ball you threw at me in the park, Cahill."

He walked away, and during the rest of the hour, Amy couldn't help looking at him, her stomach doing pirouettes. And every time she did, he grinned at her.

oOo

That night, Amy couldn't sleep. She was staring at her white roof, turning and returning in her bed. It was late, past midnight actually, and next to her room, she could hear her brother snoring peacefully.

She had tried everything. She had drunk a cup of hot milk, took a bath, read four chapters of a book she hated, but to no avail.

She sighed and looked out the window. The moon was full and the stars shone brightly in the dark sky. She wondered what he was doing right now. Maybe he was with a girl, one of the many that idolized him. She wished she could be like one of them; tall, skinny, with long blonde or brown hair and beautiful eyes.

Instead, she was stuck with her red hair that was always tangled, no matter what or how hard she tried. Her eyes were dark, and had nothing that particular. They were just plain green and didn't shine when she smiled. She was rather small for a girl of her age and she thought her legs were too big. Yes, she didn't stand out from the other girls.

She was always that girl who wouldn't say anything in class. When a teacher asked her what was the answer, she would blush furiously and stutter like a maniac. At the cafeteria, she had nobody to sit with, apart from Cassie. She didn't want to be popular (actually, that was the last thing she wanted), but having a few friends wouldn't hurt her. She wished she could be so out-going like her brother… or him.

He was always surrounded by people she was sure he didn't even talk to. He was always talking to someone, smiling or laughing with them. When she would check his socials medias (by pure curiosity, she swore), she would saw pictures of him with girls at parties, smoking and drinking in the night, his eyes shining because of the flash, smiling more than his mouth.

She passed her hand through her hair and sat up. She was tired, she was depressed, and she couldn't sleep. She looked around her, an idea popping in her mind. She checked her watch again; it was 1.00 a.m. At this hour of the night, her parents should be sound asleep. Would she dare do that? She looked out her window. Yes. She would dare.

She fully got up, pushing her sheets aside. She undressed herself from her pyjamas and put on a simple red tee shirt and a jean. Careful as to not make any sound, she walked down the stairs, wincing when the wooden boards cracked under her weight. Finally, she found herself in front of the door. She put on her sneakers and slowly opened it.

She got out in the night, enjoying the fresh air that blew in her face. She took in the spring scents, smiling. She spread her arms and almost laughed a little. If her parents knew she did that, she would be screwed.

She walked in the streets of Attleboro, not caring to know where she was going. Her feet were literally carrying her, and it felt good. No worries at all. The night was hers.

She walked in front of Cassie's house and saw that there was light in her room. She had to remember to tease her about that tomorrow. She kicked a rock and played football with it for a few seconds, when she saw where she ended. She was in front of a park, the park. She smiled, slightly shaking her head, and entered it. She turned around a bush and stopped dead in her tracks. Her smile dropped and her feeling of happiness quickly vanished, as if the wind took it with him in his wild ride.

Here he was, alone, playing basketball. He was shirtless and, in the moonlight, Amy could see the sweat shining on him. He didn't notice her, and she was glad he wasn't looking at her. She looked at his body, and blushed. He was well defined, and he looked stunning.

"You can take a picture, if you want; it'll last longer."

She startled, surprised by his voice. Was she still staring at him?

"Wh-What a-are y-you d-doing h-here?" she quietly asked.

"I could ask you the same question," he retorted. "Aren't good girls supposed to sleep at such a late hour?"

She frowned.

"So do you."

He laughed, bouncing the ball on the floor.

"I'm not a good boy."

She put her hands on her waist and glared at him.

"S-stop complimenting you like that."

He looked surprised and stared at her.

"I just told you I'm bad, how is it even a compliment?"

"Oh, I know you think it is. You think you're a bad boy, and you're super cool. You're popular and it pleases you."

He frowned at her.

"You're talking nonsense, Amy."

"Isn't it true, Ian?"

"No, it's not!" he growled. "And if you came here to mock me, you can go, I don't need you."

He looked at the big ball in his hand, so different from the one when they were kids, and continued, in a little voice.

"Stop talking about things you don't know, please."

She put her arms around her, feeling cold. His tone surprised her. He seemed… sad.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice suddenly soft.

"Nothing. Go back to bed, it's late."

"No," she insisted, coming closer to him. "What do you mean?"

He looked up at her. He stared at her tee shirt and old jeans, and she suddenly felt uncomfortable, just like every time he would look at her like that, as if he was probing her.

"I… I miss my old life," he answered. "I miss my England and my friends."

"Don't you like America?"

He shrugged, looking down at his feet.

"No, but I hate this school. I hate how people act around me, like I am some kind of god."

She arched an eyebrow at him and smiled a bit.

"You don't do anything to stop that."

He shrugged once again. He sat down on a bench. Amy imitated him.

"I'm not used to that. People in my former school wanted to be with me because they actually liked me. At least, that's what I think. Here… well, it's different, I just feel like they don't really like me. And I don't know how to react."

He finished his sentence in a murmur, and Amy felt a shiver go down her spine. She would never have thought that of him. He always seemed so happy, so content with his life. The idea of him missing is old one never crossed her mind.

"I'm sorry for you, Ian. Why don't you try to make new friends? Friends that will like you for who you are?"

He laughed heartlessly.

"Because you think it's easy? I tried, but they think I'm playing a joke on them or whatever."

"Try being nicer."

"How?"

"First, wipe that smirk off your face. It makes you look like you're planning something evil."

"Really?"

She hummed in agreement, nodding her head.

"Stop making fun of others, too. It's kind of bad for anyone's reputation."

"Still didn't get over that ball I accidentally threw at you this morning?"

She playfully elbowed him and he smirked.

"I know you did it on purpose; and stop smirking like that!"

They laughed together, and Amy wondered how they got so close in one night. Will that stay the same tomorrow in class? She liked that Ian better than the jerk she was used to mix with at school.

There were a few minutes where no one talked; they just stared at the floor of the park, Amy playing with her fingers and Ian with his feet. They heard the cars pass by, making a horribly loud noise in the peaceful quiet of the night. The wind was softly blowing, and she regretted not taking a jacket.

"You realise you don't always do it?" he asked, turning his head aside look at her in the eyes.

"What?" she blinked.

What was he talking about?

"Stuttering. Sometimes you stammer like crazy, and sometimes… well, you don't. It's like you never did it before."

"Oh," she simply answered. "Well, I didn't notice."

He smiled, and she shyly returned the gesture.

"Does that mean you're comfortable enough with me, Amy Cahill?" he suavely whispered, his face incredibly close to her.

She looked at him with big eyes. What was he doing? Why was he this close to her? Her heartbeat fastened and she gulped.

"I-I d-don't know."

He smirked.

"Guess you're not."

He put a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"But I think it's cute," he continued, his mouth grazing her hot ear.

She was trembling from their closeness. She closed her eyes, not knowing what to do. He used to be such a jerk with her, always making witty comments to her and embarrassing her. But now he was so kind and lovely. He just confessed to her his feelings about their school and she didn't even know why he chose her, of all people. She wasn't even a friend of him, for God's sake!

"I-Ian…"

"And I like the idea of you stuttering my name."

That was too much. She quickly backed away, but didn't leave the bench. She was scared that if she did, she would fall and make a fool of herself.

"W-Why d-do y-you do that? W-Why me?"

He frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"Is th-this a j-joke or s-something? Because i-if it is, I d-don't f-f-f-find it f-f-funny."

"Why would I play a joke on you?"

"Why m-me? I'm just Amy C-Cahill, the shy idiot who isn't even able to say her own n-name properly! I'm not li-like all tho-those girls-"

"And that's why I like you," he said, widening his eyes at her.

He took her hand in his.

"I admire you for that, Amy. You're so different from the others. You always stand for your ideas, even though you know you have difficulties to speak. You're not scared to tell the world what you think."

"Don't y-you th-think you're ex-exaggerating a b-bit?"

"No! I love the way you stand out from all these people."

He made a pause and she bit her lower lip.

"You- I think you're amazing." he finally finished.

He let go of her hand. He was about to stand up when she swiftly caught his wrist and made him sit down again.

"Wait!"

She looked at him.

"Wait…"

He moved his head closer to hers and she sighed a shaky breath of anticipation. He put a hand on her thigh, gripping it a bit. With his free hand, he softly brushed her hair away from her face and caressed her cheek. She closed her eyes. His touch was hot on her cold skin, and she enjoyed it even more. She felt shivers of pleasure go down her spine and she smiled.

She felt his mouth brush her lips, softly, slowly, as if he was scared to break her. His hand moved to her neck, stroking the tender flesh. She gripped his hair with both her hands, pulling him closer to her, closer to her heart. He then began kissing her more forcefully, bringing his body closer to hers. His hand on her leg moved to her waist, and she moaned at the feeling of his fingers under her tee shirt.

He tasted like apple and cinnamon. His tongue playfully licked her lower lip, and when she opened her mouth in agreement he teased her by biting her lip. She groaned in pleasure and frustration, and she heard him chuckle a bit. Her whole body was burning with desire. She wanted to touch every part of his body, feel his hands all over her. She wanted to pull him even closer to her, to feel him under her. It was crazy to think that just a few minutes ago, she was kind of disgusted by his acts.

After one last and long kiss, he pulled out, his eyes slowly opening. His hands still remained on her cheek and waist, playfully caressing her skin. She shyly smiled at him, this time not afraid to look at him in the eyes.

"You don't know how lovely you are." he murmured.

She blushed and bit her lips. She looked up at him, kissing him at the corner of his mouth.

A moment of silence passed, where neither of them spoke. It was a comfortable silence, full of promises and eternity.

"Why did you come here?" Ian finally asked her.

She shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep. What about you?"

"My parents were screaming and I got tired of it. They didn't even realise I left."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm used to it."

He got up, and she immediately felt the cold of the night rushing to where his hands were. She shivered.

"Do you mind staying up all night?" he asked, reaching a hand out to her.

She gladly took it and got up.

"No. Why?"

He grinned at her. He threw her the ball, which she didn't even realise was in his hand.

"What about a little game? Just the two of us?"

oOo

"I Ian, freely, with love and sincere desire, take thee, Amy, to become my lawful wedded wife from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow. I love you, Love."

"I Amy, freely, with love and sincere desire, take thee, Ian, to become my lawful wedded husband from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow. I love you, Ian."

They stared at each other and smiled. Ian's eyes were sparkling and Amy's smile was so big he could see all her teeth.

"You may kiss the bride."

Ian bent down and grazed her lips playfully. Chuckling, she put both her arms around his neck and pulled her newly wedded husband close to her, kissing him full on the mouth. People cheered them and clapped their hands, screaming and yelling in joy.

The couple pulled apart and faced them, holding their hands. They walked down the aisle, their family and friends throwing rice at them.

Outside, the sun was shining, and the grass was dancing with the soft wind. Amy giggled. It was as if the blades were dancing just for them, for this particular day. She looked at Ian. He was grinning at their family, shaking hands and laughing with a few. His gaze passed to his stunning sister to her, and his smile got even bigger. He bent down once again, but the flash of a camera startled them both. Dan was holding an old Polaroid, pointing it at them.

"Say cheese for the camera!"

Ian promptly took her in his strong arms, holding her close by the waist and put his head on hers. They smiled, and the loud 'click!' could be heard.

oOo

"Come on, Amy! It's time to throw your bouquet!" Sinead exclaimed.

They were all about to leave; them for their honeymoon, and the guests for their home… or not. Amy's head was throbbing with too much happiness, and maybe too much alcohol, too. She couldn't wipe the grin off her face, and it seemed that her husband had the same problem. He was sitting at a table with her brother, Hamilton Holt, Jonah Wizard and the Starling boys. They were all laughing loudly, exclaiming things she couldn't quite hear.

"Yes, Amy," Natalie nodded. "Let us be happy too."

She smiled at the two girls.

"Alright. Just hold me this for a second."

She handed them her flowers bouquet, a lovely combination of yellow, red, and pink. She lifted her big white dress and took out her heels. She then walked out of the beautiful room.

"What is she doing?" Natalie asked, her eyes wide in confusion.

Sinead shrugged.

"Must be drunk. Ian will have fun tonight." she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

Just a second later, Amy came back with something big and round in her hands. She walked pass them, flashing the two girls a smile. She was about to climb the stage when Natalie screamed.

"Amy! What are you doing? Your bunch is here, for God's sake!"

"I know!"

She took the mic in her hands and called her guests to come.

"First of all, thanks to all of you for coming here today. Ian and I can't be more happy to celebrate our wedding day with you. It's an honor that we will never forget."

Some cheered and whistled, and she continued.

"But now, the party's over, and we have to go. I hope you all had a wonderful day and that the food was good."

"It was!" Dan yelled.

She giggled.

"Now, if the ladies would like to gather around me, I'm about to throw my… er… bouquet. I'm sorry, it's the tradition and my mom will kill me if I don't do it."

She laughed and turned around.

"What the hell does she thinks she's doing?" Natalie put her head in her hands.

"Relax, Nat. My sis knows what she's doing." Dan hit her back.

She glared at him.

"Touch me one more time and you're dead."

He put his hands in surrender.

"Wow, calm down Satan. I'm your brother in law, remember?"

She shook her head and focused on Amy. She was still holding the red ball, and was about to throw it at the guests. Or at their head.

"Ready, girls?" she yelled, and Natalie could hear the smile in her voice.

The women screamed, and Natalie braced herself for what was about to come. This girl was drunk, there was no doubt about it. Why would she throw a ball at her guests? Natalie didn't know, but she knew where the first aid was, just in case.

Amy threw the ball behind her back, and heard the ladies screaming and laughing, trying to catch the red toy. She turned around, her dress in her hands. She looked at them, and saw that Reagan had caught it, and was tightly holding it close to her chest. She was being tickled by her sister and Sinead, trying to get the ball.

Amy's gaze passed to Ian's, and he winked at her. He had a smirk on his lips, and his eyes seemed to say 'Nice idea.'

It was true she didn't tell him. She wanted it to be a secret until the very end, and she had succeeded. Only her mother knew. Amy had asked her if she still had the ball from that day, and luckily for her she did. She had taken it in an old box, covered in dust, long forgotten by his previous owners.

She was so glad that she did. This couldn't have been more perfect.

oOo

Why are we here? Are we just on this planet because someone brought us here, without any particular goal? Or are we actually here to accomplish something spectacular, something that will change the world forever?

I used to think about this question night and day; when I woke up, when I ate, when I showered, even when I slept. It haunted me.

But now I know the answer. We're not here to accomplish big things, no. We're here to be big things. I don't mean to be president, or a big scientist that would know the answer to cancer, but to be someone important to someone else. It means so much more than any particular goal. You get to make someone happy. You get to light up someone's existence, someone that could have felt utterly depressed. You get to make them smile, laugh, cry, scream, yell. You get to love them. And that is the most beautiful thing on Earth, I swear.

I used to be a little girl more than normal. A little girl with big dreams just like everyone. A little girl with no particular skills, with no talents. I used to live in a little house that wasn't a palace, and I wasn't rich.

I was like everyone, but yet so different than them. And, apparently, that's what made the difference.

A/N: Hey! Thanks to everyone who read this! You know what to do: review, follow, favourite, anything, as long as you tell me what you thought of it! Have all a nice day! :) See you soon *evil smirk*

MademoiselleEtincelle