Hello everyone! While this is my first Degrassi fanfic, it's not my first ever. I absolutely love Clare and Eli, and so I had to write this oneshot. Shoot me a review to let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: If I owned Degrassi, I would not be writing fanfictions, I'd be busy making sure the writers of the show put in more Clare/Eli action

He had to wrestle her for her paper this time. Their wonderful English teacher (now why would that sound even remotely sarcastic?) had assigned them to write a short letter to someone, explaining in depth a personal memory that was vivid in their minds, something they would never forget.

For some reason, Clare was reluctant to show hers to her lovely (again, no sarcasm) partner, Eli. He wondered why she would try to refuse him, even as he hovered above her on her bed, gazing down into her eyes, his hand reaching out above her head to try to grasp the letter from her outstretched fingers. That beautiful pink graced her cheeks again as she blushed from his close proximity, and he, though reluctant to take advantage of her, leaned down and pressed his lips tightly to hers, his fingers finally grasping the letter from Clare's suddenly slack fingers.

He pulled back and ran for the bathroom, locking the door so she couldn't get the letter back. "Come on! No fair, Eli!" her voice shouted through the door.

"Sorry, Clare, but I simply must complete my duties as your English partner. Ergo, I need to read your letter, if only to make sure it's not something cheesy like, 'I remember going to the zoo with my grandmother,'" Eli mocked a high-pitched toddler girl's voice as he sat down on the cool tile floor, laughing at his own joke.

"This is personal, Eli."

"Good. Maybe it'll be better than some of your other "technical" papers."

He heard her huff and slide down the wall next to the door and he smirked. She was always trying to delay the inevitable.

He stared down at the paper in his hands and began to read.

Eil,

My world is full of Rainbows and Butterflies. Unfortunately, the rainbows have declared war on the unicorns and the butterflies have developed a hankering for blood. Maybe it has to do with the total eclipse of my sun by the beautiful black moon. I've named it Eli…it seemed fitting for some reason.

Though my world is crumbling around me, I can't seem to focus on that for long, because all I see when I look around is a pair of green eyes, promising mystery and adventure and romance. I'm a bit embarrassed to say all of this, but you were the one that told me writing is personal. Maybe I'm grasping that a bit more.

When I think back to the Romeo and Juliet project we had to do I blush every time. But no matter how much I try, I can't help pausing in whatever I'm doing to touch my fingers lightly to my lips…the same lips that caressed yours. Then my smile widens and the blush rushes to my cheeks and I have to physically calm myself down.

The way your lips pressed against mine—demanding, needy, yet soft and hesitant—has given me beautiful dreams ever since then. They're graced by the presence of a mysterious black-clad junior with green eyes and an uncanny ability to write.

I must admit, when I first saw the hearse I cheered loudly in my head. It was if the voice in my mind, the one that had been shouting, "Screw KC!" picked up a new mantra, "He drives a hearse. YES! APPROVED!"

I suppose I want to know you more, know you intimately, know you like no woman has really known you before. But questions float around my head like bees, buzzing in my ear, not letting me be fully happy and confident.

Am I ready?

What if I can't be the best girlfriend for him?

Will he see that I'm insecure sometimes?

Can I be there for him like I want to be?

But the most important question that simply will not let me alone scares me the most. If I want to, will I be able to give myself completely to him?

I suppose it scares me because I've never had thoughts like those before. I've always been little miss perfect child, never staying out too late, never hooking up with boys, never really showing a desire to be with someone. But with you. Oh! I feel excited when I'm around you, like I don't know what you'll do next, and it's incredible. I want to feel that excitement and anticipation every day, feel the wonder, feel the joy…feel the heat…

I feel like I don't have to try to be anything I'm not when I'm with you. I don't have to be the perfect daughter for my parents, or the supportive best friend for Alli, or the wonderful student for all of my teachers. There are no expectations with you except for me to be myself, and that is wonderful. I feel free when I'm with you, and I love you for that.

I don't think I truly love you, though. Not yet at least. But I think I could love you some day, with all of my heart and every fiber of my being. And I suppose that's what I like about you most, what I'll remember most, out of all the time I've spent with you.

Clare

Eli slowly stood up and opened the door, watching as Clare hastily stood up and turned to him in expectation. "Well?" she asked tentatively.

"You completely missed the point of the assignment. You'll have to do a re-write."

Clare gasped at him and punched his arm when that trademark smirk turned up the corners of his lips. He grabbed her arm loosely, forgetting the paper as is floated slowly to the floor, and by the time it had landed, his lips were on hers, soft and gentle, like a man would kiss the woman he loves.

For some reason that kiss did more to Clare than anything else she'd ever felt before, and she barely registered her legs buckling under her. Eli caught her easily and held her to his body, gazing into her eyes when he pulled back from the kiss.

"All this time, and you never told me," he whispered.

Clare, at a loss for words, smiled weakly and shrugged her shoulders-half heartedly. Eli smiled and pressed his lips to hers again. He pulled back and pressed a short kiss to the side of her neck before helping her to her bed and setting her down on it.

He looked expectantly at her, waiting for her to say something. When she did it made him laugh out loud. "Do I really have to re-write that letter?"

He kissed the pout off of her lips and nodded his head.

In the end Clare wrote about the first time she met Eli, when he ran over her glasses, surprisingly detailed about the way his eyes smiled at her when he handed her the crushed glass and plastic.

Well...how was it?

Let me know!
Em =]