Christmas Eve [for Meredith]

[missingthekeep]

Sean's so nervous, he thinks he might pass out. He was expecting to be nervous, of course, he was anxious as sin the last time he tried something as insane as this with the last woman to cross his path, but this... this really goes above and beyond. Fortunately, in the years since his last proposal of marriage, he's gotten a hell of a lot better at hiding how nervous he is, so the only outward show of it he allows is some fidgeting with the ring in his jacket pocket. It doesn't help much.

It's a good ring, he thinks. Fancy and pretty without overdoing it. He'll want something a little more personal than what he could scrounge from the Pond woman's stash for the final things, but as an engagement ring, it does nicely. Would that he were so confident about the rest of this, especially when he has every reason to be. This isn't about how lousy everything else in his life is right now, this is about him and Meredith, nothing else. And they're good. They're better than good, occasional hiccups aside. He wants this, she wants this, and they're great, they're solid. How could this possibly be the wrong thing to do, the wrong time to do it?

It isn't, he tells himself for the thirtieth time. Besides, it's already been weeks since she told him she was ready, that she was finally and fully ready to marry him. How much longer does he really have?

Right.

Right.

"Nice night, innit?" he asks with a smile, trying to keep up the charade that he dragged her out to the snow-covered beach for nothing more than a walk on Christmas Eve as long as he's able.

Comments

[drownondryland]

"I wouldn't know," she says, though that's self-evident. Meredith doesn't know what he remembers, except that it was probably better than here. It's not even a reflection on her this time, it's just fact to her. Life before he lost her must have been better, happier, easier, the kind of life only other people get. It's hard to imagine him being on the other side of this divide when he's always been like her in her eyes. "Probably not entirely. We never remember anyone entirely right."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"S'pose that's true," Sean admits, but there's no disguising how uncomfortable he is with the idea. All it does is drive home the fact that the woman he knew, the woman he loved, is well and truly gone. "Jus'... doesnae seem right, I guess."

[drownondryland]

"I guess not," Meredith says. She can't disagree, anyway. Forgetting, being forgotten, it isn't right. She knows it's how the mind works, knows she remembers wrong even the people who were alive when she saw them last all those years ago, but that doesn't make it easier to bear. "Maybe the talking about it — about her — will help. When you're ready to."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"Maybe," Sean says, and while he's not entirely convinced of that, he's willing to remain open to the idea. "Hopefully I'll actually know what ta say by the time that happens."

[drownondryland]

"You and me both," Meredith says wryly. Curious or not, whether it's possibly in her best interests or not, she's in no rush for that time to come. She barely knows what to say to him now. Leaning back a bit, she shakes her head. "Hopefully I'll stop being such an idiot about this by then."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

Finally feeling steady enough to draw back a bit himself, Sean doesn't let it last very long before he leans in to rest his forehead against hers. "Ye're nae bein' an' idiot, Meredith," he says, soft but serious. "This has been a lot, I know."

[drownondryland]

"I am," Meredith says, closing her eyes tight against another wave of hurt at the thought of how she's behaved and the things she's let herself believe. "And it is, it's a lot and all at once and... I should know better, though. I do know better. I know you love me. I don't know why I let it get to me so much."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"The heart's a fickle thing, acushla," Sean says, gently brushing a hand through her hair as he shakes his head. "Damn near impossible to control."

[drownondryland]

"I hate the idea of you with someone else," Meredith says, voice falling almost to a whisper. His touch, his words, are so soothing, but that just makes her mean it all the more. The wife always wins in the end and she can't lose this, the one real comfort she has. "But you told me about her before I even thought I could have feelings for you, before I even really knew you. I should have got used to it forever ago."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"I think we've already proved I'm nae so keen on the idea o' yer bein' with others, meself," Sean points out, quiet and almost wry, though he can't entirely ignore the pang in his chest that accompanies her words. "An' it's nae as if I gave ye much opportunity t'get used to't. None of it changes how we feel 'bout each other now."

[drownondryland]

"Not even a little," Meredith says and kisses him, forehead resting against his after. How he can be so good to her when she's made a mess of things or just feels like a mess, she never knows. "I just have to learn to remember that."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"Honestly, darlin', f'r all me fancy talk," Sean says, his eyes closing, "I do, too."

[drownondryland]

"What?" Meredith asks, petulant. It's mostly false, but it's still a damn sight better than sounding genuinely hurt. He doesn't mean anything by that. "You forget you love me?"

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"No," Sean replies, smiling in spite of himself at that. Loving her is about the only thing he's got left. "Jus' how simple this can be when we let it."

[drownondryland]

Meredith smiles a little, too, ducking her head. She needs the reminder; it gets easy to forget at times like these. "It can be," she says. "It is. When we let it. If we'd stop getting in our own way."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

It doesn't make things any easier when they have help in that matter, but for now, it isn't a big deal. He doubts the feeling will last, but for now he remembers that, at the end of the day, mishaps and misery, dead wives and lost rings aside, this right here is all that matters. They still have each other.

"I love ye. An' that's somethin' I'll ne'er be forgettin'."

[drownondryland]

Given that, for all she's been through, Meredith's pretty sure she's never felt worse than she has tonight (although part of her is equally certain that's just because she's too close to it to remember all the other times clearly), it makes sense that there's just about nothing so gratifying as hearing that. Holding on tight, she kisses him, neither soft nor quick now, the best way she knows to convey that. "I won't again," she says, barely pulling away, and it's probably a lie, but for now, she believes it.

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"Mmm, good," Sean breathes, kissing her back just as fervently since that strikes him as a better outlet for all his remaining tension than anything else he can think of. He's not sure how much he actually believes it right now, but he can at least believe that the next time he gives her reason to forget again, he'll also be able to remind her.

[drownondryland]

If she's precise, it wasn't even a question of if he loves her, only if he loves her enough, although both seem painfully absurd now, but Meredith can't bring herself to care about the semantics or correct herself when he's kissing her like that. Though the reminder of how wrong she's been doesn't entirely distract from her guilt or embarrassment, it's not until she's moved herself more fully into his lap that she gets a hold of herself and pulls back. "Good," she echoes. "Good."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"So good," Sean murmurs, wrapping his arms solidly around her and kissing her again, carefully staying mindful in the back of his head that this is probably the absolute worst time to start something serious and that he just can't do it. "Ye're everythin'."

[drownondryland]

There's a moment where Meredith thinks of pulling away again, carefully disentangling herself, remembering that this isn't the time for anything of this sort, his wife too much on their minds. He says that, though, and reason can't keep her from kissing him, still desperate to hear it, whatever she says. "Good," she says, a trace of petulance still in her tone. "I want to be."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

Somehow, that's about as comforting a response as there gets right now, and with a sigh, Sean tips his head to kiss her neck, as much to scale things back a bit as anything else. "How could ye be anythin' but?"

[drownondryland]

Meredith turns her head, eyes closing, caught between enjoying the feel of his lips on her skin and wishing she didn't have a hundred answers to that question, though few of them have anything to do with him. "I think I already covered that tonight," she murmurs. "Sometimes it still doesn't make sense I could be. Not that I'm complaining."

[missingthekeep.livejournal.com]

"Makes all the sense in the world from where I'm sittin'," Sean whispers, dragging his teeth lightly across her skin. "Ye saved me."

[drownondryland]

Meredith bites her lip hard, but it does nothing to stop the soft whimper that comes with that. "Fair enough," she says. God, she shouldn't be flippant now, not when this matters, when it means so much, but she can't help it. "You saved me."