Tag Archives: secret admirer

Secret Love

iwontbeephemeral:

iamthefirechild:

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If he didn’t reject her on sight.

She turned the malachite bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The deep green of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker.

She’d already fought down the nerves once, when she went to his house and he wasn’t home. Had she been mistaken, already been rejected, already lost? It had taken a long minute simply to gather herself enough to search in her own unique way.

But no. He was alone, and wandering, and searching. Probably — hopefully — for her. She pushed away from her car, hanging her keys from the tiny shoulder bag, and set off directly for him. Let people think she was meeting someone. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, and squared them.

She was.

She reached out, hand trembling slightly, and touched Scott McCall’s shoulder. “Hi,” she said softly, when he whipped around.

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The clock was ticking and the minutes until midnight were running away faster than Scott could catch them. There were too many people on the streets and even his werewolf senses couldn’t help him much right now, when he had to find someone he didn’t even know. He still didn’t know for sure if he was looking for a man or a woman, but the long red hair he had found made him assume it was a girl. He only knew one person with red hair.. but there was no way in hell that Lydia was the person behind those letters, right? He didn’t know her that well, but romantic letters didn’t really seem to be her style. She was more the take what you want kind of girl.

Not knowing if he feared or wanted Lydia to be the person who had sent those letters, he slowed down his steps and searched the crowd for redheaded people. “Great..” he mumbled when he realized that most people around him were wearing hats – no wonder, it was winter after all. Just as he was starting to lose all hope, he remembered that the last note had told him to look for the stone that would fit the one on the box. Easier said then done. He didn’t even know how big this stone was – and honestly, anyone could be wearing it.

“Damn.. maybe I should have stayed at home and waited..?” Scott wondered, hoping that whoever did this for him wasn’t standing in front of his door right now, waiting for him to open. He stopped in the middle of the street, watching the people surrounding him, but he only saw groups of people who seemed to know each other and weren’t looking for anyone. Still contemplating to run back home, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around.

Before him stood a girl he had never seen before, wearing a beautiful green dress that let her flaming red locks shine bright. Matching the color of the dress was a bracelet around her arm – the counterpart to the box on Scott’s window frame. Scott’s face lit up with a bright smile when he realized that he had found her. Not Lydia after all.

“It’s you!” he said excited, before suddenly remembering that this was a reason to be nervous about. Clearing his throat he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and bit his lower lip. “Uh, hi,” he added a little awkwardly.

“I am.. wow, I don’t know what to say.” He had about a million questions to ask her but all of a sudden none of them were anywhere to be found in his head. “I’m Scott. Uhm, but you know that.. what’s your name?” Great start, Scott, just great.

She couldn’t help laughing a little at the puppy-ish eagerness and excitement. He obviously didn’t know how cute biting his lip was, either. She resisted the fleeting temptation to touch his mouth.

“It /is/ me,” she said, instead of the half a dozen inappropriate things fleeting through her head. “My name is Summer.” She glanced around at the people milling around them, loud and happy, and back to him. “I think we should talk somewhere quieter, don’t you?”

Secret Admirer

thenameislahey:

iamthefirechild:

Oh. He didn’t realise yet … her heart beat hard, and one hand crept up to finger the lapis disc at her throat. This was going to be so much harder than she thought, with his blue eyes actually fixed on her. Actually seeing her, for the first time.

Especially after basically flirting with him for a week through notes. Oh, god, this was a stupid idea. She should’ve just let Jesse have his way; this was going to end so badly, and the forfeit would be worse than simply giving in … ”I, uh, I’m your secret admirer.”

     His eyes stared at her with intrigue as he awaited her response, though when it came he was left at a slight loss for words.

     He hadn’t been given any idea of what she would look like. What she sounded like. How she dressed. How she talked and held herself. It had all been left up to imagination — a very limited imagination in his case.

     He wanted to smile and laugh and invite her inside to learn all about her but he was frozen in place because with this new information, he looked at her in a completely different way.

     This girl that stood on his doorstep liked him. She was secretive and creative and was just as beautiful as her calligraphy. Suddenly he was nervous. What if he wasn’t what she thought he was? What if once she actually talked to him she changed her mind about him?

     ”Hi,” he breathed, before swallowing a small lump in his throat. “What’s your name?”

Summer wanted to cheat. She wanted to cheat so badly. What was he feeling? Was he nervous too? Was that why he held himself so still, why he kept swallowing?

      (don’t watch his throat, don’t watch his neck)

Or was he just giving her time to dig herself in deeper before cutting her to shreds with words?

      (no one can love you, ma chère, no one can ever love you)

How did other girls /do/ this? How did they open themselves up, cracked open like a geode, and deliberately show someone what was inside, knowing how easily you could be shattered? A breeze kicked up, and she shivered. She had to know, couldn’t stand not knowing —

the bitterness of chopped onion (fear) / lemon and sugar (hope)

Summer found herself smiling. Gently, so gently, she said, “You said that already. Isaac. I’m Summer.”

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If he didn’t reject her at the door.

She turned the lapis lazuli bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The blue of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car.

Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the driveway. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to the house where Issac Lahey lived.

“Hi,” she said softly, when he opened the door.

image

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If she didn’t reject her at the door.

She turned the moonstone bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The white of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car.

Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the driveway. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to Allison Argent’s house.

“Hi,” she said softly, when she opened the door.

image

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If he didn’t reject her at the door.

She turned the milky quartz bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The white of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car.

Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the driveway. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to Stiles Stilinski’s house.

“Hi,” she said softly, when he opened the door.

image

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and maybe, just maybe, start to earn the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If he didn’t reject her at the door.

She turned the amethyst bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The pure purple of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car.

Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the sidewalk. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to Derek Hale’s flat.

“Hi,” she said softly, when he opened the door.

image

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If he didn’t reject her on sight.

She turned the malachite bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The deep green of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker.

She’d already fought down the nerves once, when she went to his house and he wasn’t home. Had she been mistaken, already been rejected, already lost? It had taken a long minute simply to gather herself enough to search in her own unique way.

But no. He was alone, and wandering, and searching. Probably — hopefully — for her. She pushed away from her car, hanging her keys from the tiny shoulder bag, and set off directly for him. Let people think she was meeting someone. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, and squared them.

She was.

She reached out, hand trembling slightly, and touched Scott McCall’s shoulder. “Hi,” she said softly, when he whipped around.

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If she didn’t reject her at the door.

She turned the rose quartz bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The shimmering pink of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car. One hand clasped a little book tightly.

Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the driveway. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to Lydia Martin’s house.

“Hi,” she said softly, when she opened the door.

Summer Rainault brushed her hands over her dress again, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric. Tonight was the culmination of months of hope, weeks of planning, and days of daring activity. She’d get her freedom back, and win the heart of someone she cared about very much.

Even if they’d never met yet. If he didn’t reject her at the door.

She turned the hawk’s eye bracelet on her wrist, fingertips sliding over the heart charms dangling from it. The shimmering blue of the stone set off her pale green dress, and she hoped the signal would be clear enough, between bracelet, earrings, and cabochon choker. Taking a deep breath to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, she hung her keys from the strap of her tiny shoulder bag, and pushed away from her car.

Waiting would only make her more nervous. She tossed her red hair over her shoulder, squared them, and marched up the driveway. Another deep breath to steady herself, and she pushed the doorbell to Scott McCall’s house.

“Hi,” she said softly, when he opened the door.