She needed to leave. She needed to get out, needed to get away. In a numb haze, she fumbled to pull her jacket over each arm, and then dashed out the door, slamming it behind her. She ignored the calls that followed her as she sank deeper and deeper into herself. With a gasp, she threw herself at the trunk of a tree, just as a sob escaped her throat.
In the beginning, she hadn’t expected him to stay. It was his nature to leave, as he had explained so many times. It took so much to get close to him, and slowly, his guard fell. Every piece of himself that he gave to her was accompanied by a warning. And yet, somehow, she had managed to convince herself that, for her, he would wait.
She remembered hearing the stories about him, how he played with girls’ hearts and then shattered them into pieces. Granted, most of these tales had come from the redheaded chicken farmer, who was known to hold grudges. The first time she saw that purple bandana, the stories reemerged in her head, only to evaporate as she found herself falling in love.
They were so different. While she was trusting and gullible, he was cunning and more reserved. She was easily angered, but he took it in stride. He yelled when he was upset; she cried.
They were alike in ways, too. The most important was that they loved each other.
But not enough for him to stay.
Her blonde hair caught on the jagged bark of the tree trunk, and she yanked it out haphazardly. Pain made sense to her. Pain was familiar. Pain, she could deal with. Heartbreak was a different story entirely.
She didn’t want a summer fling. She didn’t want to be that girl who could be thrown away like a used tissue. She didn’t want to be lonely. And she knew him well enough to know that he didn’t, either.
As corny and clichéd as it seemed to her, images of the tanned boy played in her head. He was laughing, he was sleeping, he was grinning in that innocent, charming manner that he had mastered. He was holding her hand; he was on the beach with her, watching the fireworks. He was looking at her like she was a national treasure. He was holding her. He was kissing her.
And even though she had no way to know if she was his first love or his 30th, she knew that it was real.
He approached the tree with his hands behind his back and an expression that was hard to read. She wanted to ignore him, but he was magnetic, as always. He smiled quickly, and then sighed.
"I love you," he said. His voice was quiet, but sincere. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt and nodded.
"I know."
She took a deep breath, and, staring straight ahead, whispered, "Stay."
He took a deep breath, and, bending down on one knee, said, "Marry me."
A/N: WHOOOO, Claire/Kai uber-fluff! 8D