First Ferb/Isabella. I don't own anything. Enjoy.
Her toes dig into the dirt, her nails scrapping on her outer calf.
Her cheek feels cold against her knees and she lets out a sigh, closing her eyes and let the wind of the night sweeps her softly.
Sixteen, she feels so big. Her legs stretch out forever when she's standing and her hands could reach wherever she wants it to. Her raven hair run pass her shoulders until it reach her waist. Her skin is soft to caress, but the tip of her fingertips are rough- years and years of handling stuff she shouldn't.
She looks on one direction- at nothing. Just grass under the night sky.
The moon is high up in the sky, almost a full circle, illuminating the fragile earth. Illuminating her.
She lets out a light whimper and buries her face on her knees, trying her best to breathe slowly.
She hears footsteps, but doesn't look up.
Closer and closer. One by one. Patience, those steps are. Steady, collected and firm.
(phineasphineasphineas)
She looks up.
"Ferb," she says.
He stays silent, doesn't say a word. Doesn't reply in any movement to acknowledge what she just said. But he stares at her- and she feels so naked. Feels like a book, open wide for the world to read. She grips herself tighter, focusing on the pain she's creating on the outside to distract the pain eating inside of her chest.
He's still standing there, and slowly- coolly- he leans against the wall of the small wooden shed.
Minutes passed, but she feels like hour.
She tilts her head behind and gapes at the sky. Her throat feels dry, closing in so she couldn't speak. Her eyes feel as if burning- burning so badly, oh my.
"I didn't intend on you seeing them together," Ferb says finally, his accent is still strong as ever. His voice is deep, almost dark and could have been mistaken for hard- but he's very, very soft. Very, very gentle.
She lets out a scoff type of laugh, but doesn't look at him. "Yeah, well." She replies, the various of emotion bubbles up inside of her.
Krista is the new girl, with curly blond hair and great sense of humor.
She should've see it coming.
(She saw the signs, but she ignored it.)
Finally, she turns to look at him. He's taller; gone the image of once a young eleven year old boy. He's much more mature now, with his hair growing out to cover his forehead and brushes his eyebrows. His hair's the color of faint green- it's been a long time since he last dyed it- and you could see the original brown color underneath it. He looks different; he looks handsome.
He looks like how Ferb should.
She smiles, for the first time in a long time. "You've grown too much, Ferb."
His eyes met hers.
And he nods his head, "You will too."
(you will. you will. you will
'cause she's still a kid inside.)
"I'm sure I will," she mutters in a mocking tone.
His sneakers drag on the grass and she lifts her eyes to observe. He moves, and the front design of his T-shirt reveals more behind that denim jacket of his. She could hear he clears his throat and begins, "Isabella."
The way he says her name- it doesn't feel the same...
(not the way how Phineas would say it.)
And the tears finally runs down her cool cheek.
She doesn't know for how long, but it suddenly dawns to her that she's sobbing,
and so, so tired. So tired of waiting and waiting and planning moves and still fails and trying again...
He's holding her so tightly, but she doesn't seem to care.
He appears to be warmer than she had anticipated and firmer. His calloused hands grip around her and her eyes print on his broad shoulders. His muscles moves while he's rocking her, slowly... so carefully. She couldn't take it- and cries harder.
Her fingers find his clothes and holds it hard within her palms.
They're just the same.
(she remembers the way his eyes looks when it met hers- sorrow dances and swirls inside of it. it chants the same thing over and over again- vanessavanessavanessa.)
"It hurts..," she sobs. "s-so bad, Ferb."
She think he might break down, but he doesn't. "I know," the pain is clear just like the sun in the morning.
And she holds him tighter- because he does know.
Fin.