𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯... (𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘨𝘩)

strawberry watermelon ☆

(A/N: This is the beginning of a journey I am proud to take alongside all of you. If you have any requests, I will be sure to make room for any and all ideas.)

POV: You and Florence Pugh are not official, but the love still lingers over the underlying truth that she is engaged to whom Hollywood has chosen her to be. Enjoy.

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The sun is setting over the horizon, peaking through the windowpanes as a reminder of the heavy day that's now behind us. It was a quiet evening, a perfect tribute to the alluding darkness that casted over the ominous Los Angeles. 

I feel a hand graze against my stomach, holding me from behind as I gaze out over the city lights. It was a sight that never failed to amaze me, even in a land of so much despair. She rests her head against my back, her arms gently wrapped around my torso, saving me from the mess that was my intrusive brain. It was her intuition, something that time and time again would spare me another night of madness, a break from all the stressors that had followed me from my small town of Gorham. The last trial that accompanies me in the quest of making her mine for good.

"You're awfully tense, sweetheart." She whispers in her raspy accent. "It's that head of yours again, isn't it?"

She releases her embrace, turning me towards her. The glow from the streetlight illuminates her fragile skin, as she gazes into my eyes for a response. I bite my lip, trying to hold back tears, those that I knew would break her heart if seen rolling down my pale cheeks.

I feel her hand fall against my cheek, as she steps closer than before. It feels like forever since I've held her in my arms, let alone taste the vanilla lip balm she's always equipped with.

"Florence," I mutter softly, pressing her hand into my face in hopes she'd never let go. "It kills me inside seeing you with him."

I feel her hand go cold, as she remembers the man she has to return to at the end of the night. It was for the good of the old-time tale, or at least that's how Hollywood has played it out to be. Part of me always knew that she was never satisfied with a man of his type, yet she would do anything to ensure the success of her career, however that may affect us.

She lets out a sorrowful breath, holding both of my hands in hers. The lights twinkle brighter against her glossy eyes.

"Y/n," she says, "Who would I be in this cruel world, if I wasn't here loving you?" 

I see her lip curl; it flips my stomach in a knot to see her like this. My thumb rubs against the back of her hand, trying desperately to spare her from the tears of knowing she cannot have me in this life.

"Say something, please." Her voice breaks, sending a tear rolling off her cheek. I lift my thumb to catch it, sliding it off her skin. The world seems to stand still for a few moments, the seconds I spent holding her fragile hands as she cried for our future. In an instant, she breaks down in my arms.

"I will find a way to get you out of here, I promise you." My words muffle against her hair, as I dig my lips into our embrace, kissing her forehead. "Even if it means losing the world."

It was something that simply couldn't be, for as long as we desperately tried to pretend. She was a star in a grand scheme of events that were now no longer in control of her, but a publisher of a magazine. For as long as time could tell, Florence Pugh belonged to him, and never in public eye could she object to her script. This is no longer a character on the television, this is our life.

I feel her small hands gripping against my shirt as she sobs into my chest. My heart beats against her ear, pounding out of my chest in agony.

"Y/n," she catches her breath. "I will forever and always be yours."

She looks up into my eyes, the tears dampening her beauty. I see her take another hiccupped breath, as I lean my forehead against hers. She closes her eyes; I feel the warm air radiating from her against my lips. She nudges her nose against mine, as our two bodies stand collectively, hovering over the miles of towers, and the traffic that ensued. 

In that moment, with all of our cards on the table, our lips meet in the kiss that felt like could last an eternity.

Florence Rose Pugh, however locked away her heart may be, is safe at last in the hands of fate.

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