DISCLAIMER: Not mine. If it was, the show would still be on the air.
AN: So, I realized that I had never actually finished this story. Then I decided that it deserved something reminiscent of an ending, if only for the sake of anyone who ever bothered to read it. I won't be surprised if it doesn't get any reviews, this is just as much for me as it is for you. I'm sorry if it seems rushed or awkward, just remember that it's been a very long time since I've updated this story. I hope you enjoy the effort, sorry if it isn't up to par.
They were soaked. He was shivering as she led him up the stairs and into her bedroom, it was a place where he had been hundreds of times before, but now it felt like an entirely different experience. He watched as she moved silently over to her dresser, pulling open drawers and searching for something that either of them would be capable of wearing. Eventually she found what she'd apparently been looking for, and turned back around to face him. In her hands she held one of his old shirts, it bore the insignia of their High School and would probably fit him a little awkwardly, but it was better than nothing. "This is the best I can do." She explained apologetically, setting the shirt down on the edge of the bed for him to retrieve. There was not a man in the house, Phil hadn't expected her to come up with something that'd be a perfect fit. "I don't really have pants, well, not unless you want to wear my sweats." Grinning at the idea, she turned to start shuffing through her drawers again.
"I think I'll pass." He pulled his sweater and shirt off over his head, hanging the drenched articles over the bedpost. The rustle of clothing on skin seemed to perk her interest, she glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes trailing quickly over him before she returned to the task at hand. "I've got boxers." This added piece of information was only there so that words were in the air, so that the silence between them wasn't deafening. Sure, he was wearing boxers. It was nothing that she hadn't seen before, and it was probably something that she was perfectly aware of without him reminding her. Which was most likely the reason behind her only response, a curt nod of her head as she grabbed a set of pajamas from the top drawer. "Keely, what's going on in your head?" She hadn't said a single serious word to him since they'd stepped inside her house, somehow losing all of her sensibility between the kiss at the door, and the entrance into her bedroom.
"I don't know. I was just thinking-" She started, realizing mid sentence that Phil still hadn't put on the shirt she'd offered him. Teeth closed roughly down on her lower lip, biting hard into the flesh as she tried to avoid looking too completely at him. He was something to look at, there was no doubt about that. Sure, he'd been a weasly guy in middle school, skinny and kind of wimpy. Now that wasn't completely the case. He was still a little wirey, but now it was clear that there was a good coating of lean muscle over his body. She had a difficult time ignoring the sudden exposure, even more difficult since she was now looking directly at him. He stepped forward to place his hands on her waist, fingers grasping onto the clingy fabric of her tank top. Obviously he hadn't failed to notice the attention she was paying him, there were a lot of things that she could hide from Phil, but that hunger...it'd never been one of them.
"Thinking about what?" He wondered, pushing gently upward on her tank top, relishing the feeling of his fingertips brushing over inches of slowly exposed skin. He refused to look down at what he was doing though, demanded that his eyes remained connected firmly to hers even if he could feel her shaking underneath of his hands. Shivering either from the cold, the water still dripping down her back, or from other outside forces. "What's there to think about?" He observed the careful flicker in her eyes, didn't allow himself a smirk of happiness when she lifted her arms so that he could remove the pajama top from her body entirely. She didn't answer his question immediately, instead reaching out to pull him into her. Her body pressed against his, his eyes never leaving hers even when he felt the cold of her body, the damp reminder of water on her bare skin. He dropped his hands to her legs, lifting her gently up into his arms so he could take her with him to her bed. "Thinking about what, Keely?" He repeated, as he placed her on top of the comforter, moving immediately to rest above her.
She looked up at him, eyes dark with a force that he couldn't easily identify. "How much I really do love you, how I don't think I could do this again. I can't lose you, not when I've already lost you twice before." It was at this precise moment that he pulled away from her, sat up on the edge of the bed and dug into the pockets of his jeans. She remained unmoving on the bed, her head resting on the pillowcase, eyes slid closed in silent exhaustion. Assumptions led her to believe that Phil was looking for the keys to his car, that he had already changed his mind, maybe he'd realized that she was too much to handle. Maybe she was questioning him a little too much, and he'd accepted that it was nothing short of completely, and totally over. Then he removed the case from his pocket, that same tiny black box that his mother had given to him. Keely missed this movement, her eyes were still squeezed tightly shut. She didn't open them again until she felt his hand move to rest on top of hers.
"Keely, I need you to look at me." Reluctantly, she obeyed this command. Turquoise eyes opened forcefully, shooting immediately to his face. She didn't notice the box in his hands, he was cradling it safely between his palms, hiding it carefully from her view. "This isn't like before. I couldn't do that to you again, I didn't want to do it the first time." Eyes knitted together in frustration, head shaking in anger at the words that were so knotted up inside of his head. "Leaving you...was the biggest mistake that I've ever made." The laugh that passed from his lips in that moment was a humorless one, a flat nose that only existed to emphasize the point. "You're everything that was ever anything to me, always have been. Always will be." The words came out so matter-of-factly that she couldn't even begin to doubt their validity. She could only watch him curiously, unsure as to whether or not he was done, or if she should offer him some kind of reassurance. The look in his eyes ended any idea at replying that might've been surfacing on the tip of her tongue. The determination on his face, like this was something that he needed to get out completely, and needed to get out right now.
He pushed himself off the mattress and she started to move so that she could grab onto him, stop him from abandoning her just when things were looking up. She halted as soon as she realized that he wasn't going anywhere, that he was only kneeling at the edge of the bed. Then he opened his hands and she saw the box that he was holding onto so protectively. "I love you, Keely Teslow." These were words that he had said so many times before that by now, he had completely last track of the number. He knew only that it was a large one, just in the sum of one day he had found himself uttering them several times. So frequently that he suspected that they might've lost their power. Drawing his eyes away from hers in embarassment, he popped open the velvet container, holding it out in the palm of his hands, so she could clearly see what he was offering her. "Will you marry me?"
The realization dawned immediately in her expression, it took her no more than a couple seconds to identify the ring that she was looking at as the same one that she'd seen future Keely wearing. She had hoped years ago that it'd be Phil that gave it to her, known even at that long gone moment in time that he was the only person she could ever see herself spending eternity with. Which only made the fear in his eyes more amusing to her, so amusing that she couldn't keep herself from grinning before she had even though to reply. "Yes, yes of course I will." Her hands closed quickly onto his face, pulling him to her in a sweeping kiss that eventually forced her off her bed, and awkwardly into his lap on the floor. Arms wrapped tightly around his neck, embrace tightening even though she feared that she would end up strangling him with her love. That it would be too great for either of them to contain, and that it might swallow them whole before they'd had time to properly celebrate this development. As she pulled back, he removed the ring from the box, took her hand in his and slid it tenderly onto her finger. "I love you. I love you so much, Phil Diffy." The tears swam in her eyes, but these were the good kind. The sort that made him grin so broadly that it actually made his cheeks ache, and yes, it was scary. Yes, it was a very big step. No, he didn't particularly care. That look, it was enough to wipe away all of the worry in the world, enough to make him vividly sure of the fact that they were going to be perfectly fine. He loved her. Nothing else mattered.
"I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images,
And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned.
And I have to speculate, that God himself did make
Us into corresponding shapes,
Like puzzle pieces from the clay."