uh....:bomb: i was just reading all these and uh....:bomb: such good stories! :dead:

This is the home of good stories. :D

 

 

@Christina: I love the new chapter; I have a particular soft spot for Chris/Will friendship. :heart:

 

@Everyone else: New chapter of Schoolboys is going to take a while. No matter how I write it, something is always wrong with it. *pulls out hair*

^ It's trying to tell you that chapter 15 is not the end muahahaha

 

 

 

Everything under the sun is sooo good Christina! I love how

Will is like, "Yah, uhuh nothing new, we all know" when Chris admits his love for Grace. Will sees all :lol:

 

EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN.

CHAPTER 4

 

 

 

 

TWO MONTHS LATER

 

 

Chris pounded so hard on Will's door that he heard things falling off the walls inside the hotel room. Then a dim light turned on. Shit, he woke up the baby. Some shadows appeared and there was some rustling. Will opened the door slowly. “What?” he rubbed a groggy eye.

“Um. I really don't know why I'm here. Did I wake the baby?”

“I think you woke the bloody Queen.” Will snapped, then felt guilty. He opened the door wider. “Come in.”

He stepped in to Will's home and took a deep breath. Will's wife always kept the place spotless and smelling like melted sugar. It was like Candyland. Chris took a seat on Will's dark brown, leather couch. Will sat opposite him and watched his wife calming the baby down. “Is it about Gwyn?”

Usually questions about Gwyn made Chris really angry and uncomfortable, but, this one was logical. Chris didn't even know what it was about. “No. No I don't think it's Gwyn.” He shifted in Will's direction. “This is going to sound so crazy.”

Will folded his arms, ready for Chris's fire. “Shoot.”

This was it. He had to say it out loud for the first time. Shit. Just say it! “I think I'm in love with Grace.” He spit the words out like they burned his tongue.

At first Will didn't have any expression. When the words soaked into his brain, his big brown eyes bulged and he took a step back. “W...woah. Are you serious?”

Chris didn't take his eyes off the ground the entire time. He just kept nodding. When he finally looked up, he saw the expression on Will's face. “What? Are you not surprised?”

“Not really.”

He tried to look for an answer in Will's face. “Why?”

Will took a seat next to Chris and leaned back. “Well, you guys have been friends for ten years. I think Grace knows more about you than Gwyn does. I think you've seen more of Grace then-”

“I get that part. So, this isn't completely insane?” He played with his clammy fingers nervously.

“No, I don't think it is. She obviously cares about you enough to talk to you for ten years. You're getting a divorce now, which I believe was the completely right thing to do.”

There was a silence in the room while Chris processed all this information. “So, what do I do now?”

“Tell her. When we get back.”

 

 

 

 

sorry it's so short. :)

 

HE LOVES GRACE!

HE LOVES GRACE!

GRACE, HE LOVES YOU!!! :dance: :dance: :dance:

Okay guys...now I didn't want to post this but my sister is forcing me to :uhoh:

 

So you know I've been writing a Jonny fic 'A Warning Sign', well everytime there's the slightest appearance by Will she gets all excited and wants me to add more Will :lol: she even said, "it's fine just cut to a quick scene of Will in a shower, no one will mind!"

 

I decided that even though most of you wouldn't object to randomly reading a scene about Will in a shower it still didn't fit in with the story I had in mind so I created a little 'Shower Scene' standalone fic just for her and she convinced me to post it here.

 

Summary: Will Champion takes a shower.

 

Shower Scene

 

 

 

 

“Oh, this is the place with the really weird showers, man,” Chris says giving me a sideways glance when we arrive at the hotel.

 

If there’s anything strange going on here, the building’s lobby puts on a very convincing façade of normalcy; sharply dressed clerks waiting to answer our every beck and call. Their leather shoes clacking beneath them on the sprawling expanse of black marble floors.

 

It’s much more posh than anything I can remember setting foot into in the past year or so but apparently we had stayed here before.

 

“Are you sure we’ve stayed at this hotel?” I ask him, sliding off my sunglasses to take a better look at the lavish fountain accenting the center of the lobby; a domed skylight allowing the bright morning sun to pour over everything, specks of white light gleaming and glinting off the surface of the water in the fountain’s basin.

 

“Definitely, how can you forget those showers? It took me 20 minutes of trying to figure out how to turn it on before I finally gave up and went to dinner smelling like arse.”

 

“No.” I shake my head, holding back a smirk. I would have remembered that I’m sure.

 

He purses his lips and narrows his eyes in concentration, probably trying to think of another detail from our trip here so that I might remember the visit.

 

“Y’know what, you might not have been with us that week. Yeah, no - it was the week you flew straight to London from the gig and then met up with us in Los Angeles.” He nods his head.

 

Once we’re checked in I decide to give these infamous showers a look for myself. What could possibly be so odd about them?

 

The rest of the guys have dispersed throughout the hotel; Guy deciding he could do with a run in the fitness room, Jonny opting for a bit of sun on the terrace and Chris off to make some poolside phone calls.

 

I’m pleased to find that my room is spacious. The simple and clean lines, minimal furniture, large windows and a soothing color scheme give the room a pleasant atmosphere and the bathroom is pretty much more of the same.

 

I eye the large standing shower and begin taking in every detail; it’s aesthetically pleasing, as far as showers go anyway. Nothing too out of place except for the presence of two main showerheads and a bunch of smaller jets on either side.

 

“Whatever happened to a good old fashioned shower?” I mutter to an empty room.

 

I shrug and decide it’s worth a try as I kick off my trainers and pull off my socks. Loosening my belt buckle I open one of the large, glass, double shower doors and fiddle with the lever for a moment.

 

I realize I’m meant to pull it instead of turn it and instantly the water flows from the showerhead high on the tiled wall. Deciding to turn one of the other dials, the mini jets instantly erupt and I swing the door shut in a hurry to avoid being sprayed while still fully clothed.

 

I walk back into the bedroom and rummage through my bag until I find some clean clothes to lay out for after the shower and am sure to grab the white terry robe the hotel has folded neatly on the edge of the king sized mattress.

 

By the time I return to the bathroom the steam has crept it’s way about the room and has fogged up the enormous mirror and both shower doors. The air feels sticky and hot and I shed the rest of my clothes, pulling my v-neck tee shirt over my head and placing it on the sink when the array of shampoos and bath gels catches my eye.

 

The small bottles are lined up neatly on the counter and once I’ve got my trousers off I grab a few and make my way to the shower.

 

I slip in quickly, the jets on the walls threatening to fling water all around the bathroom when I open the door again. Already I can tell that Chris deciding to skip his shower last time was a devastatingly stupid idea.

 

The pressure of the jets is perfect, working almost instantly to relax the tension in my muscles. I place the bottles of soap on a small ledge and take a few moments to enjoy the feel of the steaming hot water kneading the kinks in my back and shoulders.

 

The night before I had pulled a muscle just below my shoulder blade during Viva and hadn’t had a chance to get it checked out by our medic. The warm water however, was working wonders on its own; each tiny jet seemed massively important in the scheme of things.

 

I notice now a few more knobs on the wall just below the main lever but the lack of labels or symbols leaves no indication as to what they could possibly be for. I decide to test my luck and turn the third knob from the left. As soon as I’m done turning it the once stationary jets begin moving, rotating in circles and I’m practically grinning at my discovery.

 

I close my eyes and position myself so that my back is getting the full working of the jet stream. The combination of the heat of the water, the pressure of the jets and the circular whirling motion, coaxes a contented sigh from my lips.

 

I must be standing there for longer than I realize and only recognize the passing of time by the greatly increased pruneyness of my fingertips. I hadn’t even used any of the soap yet and I run a hand across the top of my head to test the length of my hair. It was a bit longer than I normally like to have it but it would have to wait for another day before I could attempt to shave it.

 

With my eyes still closed I grasp blindly for one of the bottles I had placed on the ledge and flip open the cap. Pouring a sizable amount into my hand I swirl the silky soap between my two palms and immediately I can sense the aromas of lemongrass and ginger.

 

Lathering it thoroughly, I massage the soap across my chest and arms and catch a third scent that must be vanilla because it reminds me of the smell of Marianne and I can’t help but stand grinning like a fool in the empty bathroom.

 

I can feel the water running in streams across my skin, winding it’s way down my chest and across my hips, rushing around my knees and the backs of my calves until it disappears down the drain, carrying the tiny suds that had accumulated on my skin with it.

 

Once I’ve washed and rinsed I take a moment to soak in the undisturbed quiet of the moment. Two days off would be sheer bliss.

 

No plane to catch tonight, no early morning tomorrow, no sound check, no gigs, no interviews and certainly no bickering with band mates. I could enjoy a quiet evening of room service and a good bottle of wine. Perhaps curl up in the white terry robe and watch episodes of The Wire in bed, waiting out the time until I was de-pruned enough to give this shower thing another go.

 

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

 

 

 

 

...I apologize if this is the most ridiculous thing you've all read today, blame cold_love23 :P

:wideeyed:

Heehee. Talk about sensual....

Makes me want to write one.

Listen here Sarah!!!! All fics are good!!! This one left everyone to imagine what we wanted to imagine with Will:wink3:

Listen here Sarah!!!! All fics are good!!! This one left everyone to imagine what we wanted to imagine with Will:wink3:

 

Guy? Chris, maybe? :wink3:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or is that not what you meant? :P

Guy? Chris, maybe? :wink3:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or is that not what you meant? :P

 

 

If I told ya, I'd have to uh... stick Chris on ya:lol::wink3:

Okay guys...now I didn't want to post this but my sister is forcing me to :uhoh:

 

So you know I've been writing a Jonny fic 'A Warning Sign', well everytime there's the slightest appearance by Will she gets all excited and wants me to add more Will :lol: she even said, "it's fine just cut to a quick scene of Will in a shower, no one will mind!"

 

I decided that even though most of you wouldn't object to randomly reading a scene about Will in a shower it still didn't fit in with the story I had in mind so I created a little 'Shower Scene' standalone fic just for her and she convinced me to post it here.

 

Summary: Will Champion takes a shower.

 

Shower Scene

 

 

 

 

“Oh, this is the place with the really weird showers, man,” Chris says giving me a sideways glance when we arrive at the hotel.

 

If there’s anything strange going on here, the building’s lobby puts on a very convincing façade of normalcy; sharply dressed clerks waiting to answer our every beck and call. Their leather shoes clacking beneath them on the sprawling expanse of black marble floors.

 

It’s much more posh than anything I can remember setting foot into in the past year or so but apparently we had stayed here before.

 

“Are you sure we’ve stayed at this hotel?” I ask him, sliding off my sunglasses to take a better look at the lavish fountain accenting the center of the lobby; a domed skylight allowing the bright morning sun to pour over everything, specks of white light gleaming and glinting off the surface of the water in the fountain’s basin.

 

“Definitely, how can you forget those showers? It took me 20 minutes of trying to figure out how to turn it on before I finally gave up and went to dinner smelling like arse.”

 

“No.” I shake my head, holding back a smirk. I would have remembered that I’m sure.

 

He purses his lips and narrows his eyes in concentration, probably trying to think of another detail from our trip here so that I might remember the visit.

 

“Y’know what, you might not have been with us that week. Yeah, no - it was the week you flew straight to London from the gig and then met up with us in Los Angeles.” He nods his head.

 

Once we’re checked in I decide to give these infamous showers a look for myself. What could possibly be so odd about them?

 

The rest of the guys have dispersed throughout the hotel; Guy deciding he could do with a run in the fitness room, Jonny opting for a bit of sun on the terrace and Chris off to make some poolside phone calls.

 

I’m pleased to find that my room is spacious. The simple and clean lines, minimal furniture, large windows and a soothing color scheme give the room a pleasant atmosphere and the bathroom is pretty much more of the same.

 

I eye the large standing shower and begin taking in every detail; it’s aesthetically pleasing, as far as showers go anyway. Nothing too out of place except for the presence of two main showerheads and a bunch of smaller jets on either side.

 

“Whatever happened to a good old fashioned shower?” I mutter to an empty room.

 

I shrug and decide it’s worth a try as I kick off my trainers and pull off my socks. Loosening my belt buckle I open one of the large, glass, double shower doors and fiddle with the lever for a moment.

 

I realize I’m meant to pull it instead of turn it and instantly the water flows from the showerhead high on the tiled wall. Deciding to turn one of the other dials, the mini jets instantly erupt and I swing the door shut in a hurry to avoid being sprayed while still fully clothed.

 

I walk back into the bedroom and rummage through my bag until I find some clean clothes to lay out for after the shower and am sure to grab the white terry robe the hotel has folded neatly on the edge of the king sized mattress.

 

By the time I return to the bathroom the steam has crept it’s way about the room and has fogged up the enormous mirror and both shower doors. The air feels sticky and hot and I shed the rest of my clothes, pulling my v-neck tee shirt over my head and placing it on the sink when the array of shampoos and bath gels catches my eye.

 

The small bottles are lined up neatly on the counter and once I’ve got my trousers off I grab a few and make my way to the shower.

 

I slip in quickly, the jets on the walls threatening to fling water all around the bathroom when I open the door again. Already I can tell that Chris deciding to skip his shower last time was a devastatingly stupid idea.

 

The pressure of the jets is perfect, working almost instantly to relax the tension in my muscles. I place the bottles of soap on a small ledge and take a few moments to enjoy the feel of the steaming hot water kneading the kinks in my back and shoulders.

 

The night before I had pulled a muscle just below my shoulder blade during Viva and hadn’t had a chance to get it checked out by our medic. The warm water however, was working wonders on its own; each tiny jet seemed massively important in the scheme of things.

 

I notice now a few more knobs on the wall just below the main lever but the lack of labels or symbols leaves no indication as to what they could possibly be for. I decide to test my luck and turn the third knob from the left. As soon as I’m done turning it the once stationary jets begin moving, rotating in circles and I’m practically grinning at my discovery.

 

I close my eyes and position myself so that my back is getting the full working of the jet stream. The combination of the heat of the water, the pressure of the jets and the circular whirling motion, coaxes a contented sigh from my lips.

 

I must be standing there for longer than I realize and only recognize the passing of time by the greatly increased pruneyness of my fingertips. I hadn’t even used any of the soap yet and I run a hand across the top of my head to test the length of my hair. It was a bit longer than I normally like to have it but it would have to wait for another day before I could attempt to shave it.

 

With my eyes still closed I grasp blindly for one of the bottles I had placed on the ledge and flip open the cap. Pouring a sizable amount into my hand I swirl the silky soap between my two palms and immediately I can sense the aromas of lemongrass and ginger.

 

Lathering it thoroughly, I massage the soap across my chest and arms and catch a third scent that must be vanilla because it reminds me of the smell of Marianne and I can’t help but stand grinning like a fool in the empty bathroom.

 

I can feel the water running in streams across my skin, winding it’s way down my chest and across my hips, rushing around my knees and the backs of my calves until it disappears down the drain, carrying the tiny suds that had accumulated on my skin with it.

 

Once I’ve washed and rinsed I take a moment to soak in the undisturbed quiet of the moment. Two days off would be sheer bliss.

 

No plane to catch tonight, no early morning tomorrow, no sound check, no gigs, no interviews and certainly no bickering with band mates. I could enjoy a quiet evening of room service and a good bottle of wine. Perhaps curl up in the white terry robe and watch episodes of The Wire in bed, waiting out the time until I was de-pruned enough to give this shower thing another go.

 

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

 

 

 

 

...I apologize if this is the most ridiculous thing you've all read today, blame cold_love23 :P

 

:devil: MWHAHAHAHAH ... WILL IN A SHOWER. :mellow:

I'm a Chrissy Berry girl (for the most part) and even I find that story flippin sexy. :dozey:

 

 

Edit: You gals are sisters? :thinking:

kids!! thanks for all the nice comments!! i really appreciate them!!:heart::heart::heart:!!

 

working on chapter 5. should be up soon. :nice:!!!

yaaaay cant wait !! xx

EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

 

 

Chris chewed his fingernails to bits. He was waiting in an old, worn out café called "Fresnos" on 32nd Street. Should he have brought flowers? It seemed kind've overrated. Chris debated throwing them in the nearest trash can. Nah, it'll be good. He looked at his watch again. She wasn't late. He was just twenty minutes early. For every person who walked in the door, he flattened an invisible fold in his black cargo pants. Finally he heard her voice echoing from down the small alley outside the café. His heart skipped. This was it. He didn’t know how she would react. He didn’t want to know, and smiled at the fact that that was the only thing he didn’t know about Grace. If she was in love with him. Grace walked into the door. She looked beautiful. Her dark brown hair was straight as an arrow, and she was dressed in her usual black t-shirt and jeans. Chris’s face blushed a little as she looked his way. They walked towards each other, and without saying anything, threw their arms around one another. Her hair smelled like strawberries. Chris wanted to bury his head in her neck. But… he had to wait. They pulled away from each other. "It’s so good to see you." He said.

Grace chuckled. "You too. Oh, you too." She hugged him again. "So before you say anything and I mean anything… I have some big news to tell you."

"So do I." Chris mumbled while sitting down again.

Grace glanced at the flowers, looked up at Chris and pouted. "You’re too sweet. Ugh, Tulips, I love Tulips." She pressed her nose against one of the flowers. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

"Grace. I really have to tell you something." Chris said, feeling the sweat mount on his forehead.

She looked up, slightly concerned but smiled. "Can I go first?"

I WANT TO GET IT OVER WITH! "Fine." His voice shook.

Chris jumped slightly as Grace put her hands on his. "Chris. We’ve been friends for ten years. You’re my best friend. Hell, my life practically revolves around when you’re on town."

He leaned in closer. Grace paused for a few seconds.

"Chris I… I’m getting married!" She grinned from ear to ear.

This has got to be a nightmare. Chris pinched his leg just to be sure. "H…huh?"

She laughed. "I’m getting married! I met this guy while you were gone. His name is Michael and he’s so sweet. You’ll love him. Anyways, I got into another car accident. You don’t have to start the lecture. I know I shouldn’t be driving. This guy starts screaming at me I seriously thought he was going to kill me. So here comes Mike, and he punched him right. In. The. Face! He probably saved my life. Anyway, we got talking and he asked me out to dinner, and three months later here we are!"

Chris wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Instead, he was squeezing so hard onto his pant leg he thought he was going to break his own fist. His face was red, his eyes were watery, and his brain cells were popping. This couldn’t be happening.

"Chris?" Grace leaned in to see if anything was wrong. "Chris. Say something."

He looked her in the eye. She was worried. "I’m so happy for you!" He faked, and tried to get up to hug her without completely shattering his insides. Chris was torn. Grace was his best friend, he wanted her to be happy. But. He wanted her to be happy with him. "Sorry it took me so long to answer. Just in a little bit of shock." Chris grabbed his painful chest.

"Oh I thought so! Chris I’m so excited! We’re serving lunch tomorrow to you and all my bridesmaids to talk about the wedding." She stirred her coffee rapidly. "The wedding’s going to be in Cannes, France on Valentine’s Day."

"That’s three weeks." Chris tried not to die on the scene.

"Yeah, I know! It’s all so spontaneous but you know, I think I need more of that in my life. Oh, shit. I’ve been talking so much. What did you want to tell me?" She smiled sweetly.

Chris looked into those big hazel eyes and knew he couldn’t say anything. "Nothing. I’m so happy for you, Grace." He got up again and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling tears well in his eyes.

 

 

 

DUN DUN DUN. :P!!

:devil: MWHAHAHAHAH ... WILL IN A SHOWER. :mellow:

 

 

SSSSQQQQUUUUUEEE

EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

 

 

Chris chewed his fingernails to bits. He was waiting in an old, worn out café called "Fresnos" on 32nd Street. Should he have brought flowers? It seemed kind've overrated. Chris debated throwing them in the nearest trash can. Nah, it'll be good. He looked at his watch again. She wasn't late. He was just twenty minutes early. For every person who walked in the door, he flattened an invisible fold in his black cargo pants. Finally he heard her voice echoing from down the small alley outside the café. His heart skipped. This was it. He didn’t know how she would react. He didn’t want to know, and smiled at the fact that that was the only thing he didn’t know about Grace. If she was in love with him. Grace walked into the door. She looked beautiful. Her dark brown hair was straight as an arrow, and she was dressed in her usual black t-shirt and jeans. Chris’s face blushed a little as she looked his way. They walked towards each other, and without saying anything, threw their arms around one another. Her hair smelled like strawberries. Chris wanted to bury his head in her neck. But… he had to wait. They pulled away from each other. "It’s so good to see you." He said.

Grace chuckled. "You too. Oh, you too." She hugged him again. "So before you say anything and I mean anything… I have some big news to tell you."

"So do I." Chris mumbled while sitting down again.

Grace glanced at the flowers, looked up at Chris and pouted. "You’re too sweet. Ugh, Tulips, I love Tulips." She pressed her nose against one of the flowers. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

"Grace. I really have to tell you something." Chris said, feeling the sweat mount on his forehead.

She looked up, slightly concerned but smiled. "Can I go first?"

I WANT TO GET IT OVER WITH! "Fine." His voice shook.

Chris jumped slightly as Grace put her hands on his. "Chris. We’ve been friends for ten years. You’re my best friend. Hell, my life practically revolves around when you’re on town."

He leaned in closer. Grace paused for a few seconds.

"Chris I… I’m getting married!" She grinned from ear to ear.

This has got to be a nightmare. Chris pinched his leg just to be sure. "H…huh?"

She laughed. "I’m getting married! I met this guy while you were gone. His name is Michael and he’s so sweet. You’ll love him. Anyways, I got into another car accident. You don’t have to start the lecture. I know I shouldn’t be driving. This guy starts screaming at me I seriously thought he was going to kill me. So here comes Mike, and he punched him right. In. The. Face! He probably saved my life. Anyway, we got talking and he asked me out to dinner, and three months later here we are!"

Chris wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Instead, he was squeezing so hard onto his pant leg he thought he was going to break his own fist. His face was red, his eyes were watery, and his brain cells were popping. This couldn’t be happening.

"Chris?" Grace leaned in to see if anything was wrong. "Chris. Say something."

He looked her in the eye. She was worried. "I’m so happy for you!" He faked, and tried to get up to hug her without completely shattering his insides. Chris was torn. Grace was his best friend, he wanted her to be happy. But. He wanted her to be happy with him. "Sorry it took me so long to answer. Just in a little bit of shock." Chris grabbed his painful chest.

"Oh I thought so! Chris I’m so excited! We’re serving lunch tomorrow to you and all my bridesmaids to talk about the wedding." She stirred her coffee rapidly. "The wedding’s going to be in Cannes, France on Valentine’s Day."

"That’s three weeks." Chris tried not to die on the scene.

"Yeah, I know! It’s all so spontaneous but you know, I think I need more of that in my life. Oh, shit. I’ve been talking so much. What did you want to tell me?" She smiled sweetly.

Chris looked into those big hazel eyes and knew he couldn’t say anything. "Nothing. I’m so happy for you, Grace." He got up again and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling tears well in his eyes.

 

 

 

DUN DUN DUN. :P!!

:stunned::bigcry: NOOOOOO!!!

EXCELLENT writing!!!!! :D:D:D:D:D!!

But.....poor chrissy!!! :heart:!! :(

 

 

this kind of reminds me of made of honor :laugh3:

omg thats so sad and epic :(

poor poor chris i hope she stops the plans

awwww i love everything under the sun

i wanna know what happens next :)

great writer !! xx

:stunned::bigcry: NOOOOOO!!!

EXCELLENT writing!!!!! :D:D:D:D:D!!

But.....poor chrissy!!! :heart:!! :(

 

 

this kind of reminds me of made of honor :laugh3:

 

 

hah, my sister said that too. :laugh4:!

 

i've never seen the movie though, so, IT'S NOT PLAGERIZING. :D!!

Mmm...I loved the new chapter of Everything Under the Sun. Very emotional. :lol:

thanks everybody. :nice:!!

EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

 

 

Chris chewed his fingernails to bits. He was waiting in an old, worn out café called "Fresnos" on 32nd Street. Should he have brought flowers? It seemed kind've overrated. Chris debated throwing them in the nearest trash can. Nah, it'll be good. He looked at his watch again. She wasn't late. He was just twenty minutes early. For every person who walked in the door, he flattened an invisible fold in his black cargo pants. Finally he heard her voice echoing from down the small alley outside the café. His heart skipped. This was it. He didn’t know how she would react. He didn’t want to know, and smiled at the fact that that was the only thing he didn’t know about Grace. If she was in love with him. Grace walked into the door. She looked beautiful. Her dark brown hair was straight as an arrow, and she was dressed in her usual black t-shirt and jeans. Chris’s face blushed a little as she looked his way. They walked towards each other, and without saying anything, threw their arms around one another. Her hair smelled like strawberries. Chris wanted to bury his head in her neck. But… he had to wait. They pulled away from each other. "It’s so good to see you." He said.

Grace chuckled. "You too. Oh, you too." She hugged him again. "So before you say anything and I mean anything… I have some big news to tell you."

"So do I." Chris mumbled while sitting down again.

Grace glanced at the flowers, looked up at Chris and pouted. "You’re too sweet. Ugh, Tulips, I love Tulips." She pressed her nose against one of the flowers. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

"Grace. I really have to tell you something." Chris said, feeling the sweat mount on his forehead.

She looked up, slightly concerned but smiled. "Can I go first?"

I WANT TO GET IT OVER WITH! "Fine." His voice shook.

Chris jumped slightly as Grace put her hands on his. "Chris. We’ve been friends for ten years. You’re my best friend. Hell, my life practically revolves around when you’re on town."

He leaned in closer. Grace paused for a few seconds.

"Chris I… I’m getting married!" She grinned from ear to ear.

This has got to be a nightmare. Chris pinched his leg just to be sure. "H…huh?"

She laughed. "I’m getting married! I met this guy while you were gone. His name is Michael and he’s so sweet. You’ll love him. Anyways, I got into another car accident. You don’t have to start the lecture. I know I shouldn’t be driving. This guy starts screaming at me I seriously thought he was going to kill me. So here comes Mike, and he punched him right. In. The. Face! He probably saved my life. Anyway, we got talking and he asked me out to dinner, and three months later here we are!"

Chris wasn’t listening to a word she was saying. Instead, he was squeezing so hard onto his pant leg he thought he was going to break his own fist. His face was red, his eyes were watery, and his brain cells were popping. This couldn’t be happening.

"Chris?" Grace leaned in to see if anything was wrong. "Chris. Say something."

He looked her in the eye. She was worried. "I’m so happy for you!" He faked, and tried to get up to hug her without completely shattering his insides. Chris was torn. Grace was his best friend, he wanted her to be happy. But. He wanted her to be happy with him. "Sorry it took me so long to answer. Just in a little bit of shock." Chris grabbed his painful chest.

"Oh I thought so! Chris I’m so excited! We’re serving lunch tomorrow to you and all my bridesmaids to talk about the wedding." She stirred her coffee rapidly. "The wedding’s going to be in Cannes, France on Valentine’s Day."

"That’s three weeks." Chris tried not to die on the scene.

"Yeah, I know! It’s all so spontaneous but you know, I think I need more of that in my life. Oh, shit. I’ve been talking so much. What did you want to tell me?" She smiled sweetly.

Chris looked into those big hazel eyes and knew he couldn’t say anything. "Nothing. I’m so happy for you, Grace." He got up again and wrapped his arms around her waist, feeling tears well in his eyes.

 

 

 

DUN DUN DUN. :P!!

 

OH NOOOOO! Chris :bigcry: so sad

 

It's really good Christina! but also sad.

EVERYTHING UNDER THE SUN.

 

CHAPTER 5

 

[...] his eyes were watery,

[...] feeling tears well in his eyes.

"Will Chris ever stop crying in fanfics??" :lol::lol::lol:

 

Sorry, I had to do that!

 

 

Another great chapter, thank you, love. :kiss:

So now we have three weeks to get rid of that Michael! :P

I DON'T THINK HE EVER WILL. :laugh4:!!!

 

thank you!! :nice:!!

Poor Chris :( Great read though!!

Oh and another thing, yes, that is kind of similar to "Made of Honour" but that movie was awful!!!

Think of a cliche and it was in that movie.

I was laughing while watching it because it was so ridiculous...

Good that I work in a cinema and don't have to pay for watching movies.

 

Your writing is great so I don't want to compare those two.