Claire's Desperate Idea Pt. 02

Back by somewhat popular demand...Part 2! Remember, this story is a slow burner so hold your horses. As promised, this gives you a lot more about Fred and the past between Fred and Claire. Please note: there are both rather reserved people, so it will take some time for them to come together...no, that was not intentional.

As always, for adults only, be polite and constructive, and I will run you through with a fountain pen if you steal my work - or poke you a little at least :).

Enjoy!

Beatrice

***

Fred stared at his phone, trying to avoid the inevitable. Kat was coming back from visiting family, and he would do her the courtesy of breaking up in person.

He wondered what Claire was doing right now. Most likely frantically hammering out that lab paper and looking adorable. She was and always had been brilliant and studious, while he...was Fred. Nothing spectacular.

His mind drifted back to the first time they met, way back in second grade. He had been attempting to not cry over his inability to comprehend long division when a vision in plaid and striped socks had stopped by and cleared up the mystery in a heartbeat. He now saw he'd loved her from that moment, loved her for 15 years.

He had protected her, much to her chagrin, for a long time. In return, she'd healed him up and rescued him from himself more times than he could count.

The memory drifted to seven months ago. There was a Halloween party in the Great Hall, and he had a plan. He had blown his small fun fund on a diamond bracelet and two tickets to a musical (she loved musicals). He would sweep her off her feet and reveal his love to her, and then...he would take her to a room in a charming inn across town, kiss her all over, and then rip off her dress and claim her.

But when he walked into the room, Claire had her lips planted on that weasel face Jake. Acting like nothing happened would have been better; marching up to that asshole and telling him to stay away from would have been better; going home would have been better. Instead, he hooked up with Kat out of heartbroken spite, despite the fact that it was glaringly obvious that they were completely wrong for each other.

When Claire, two weeks later, asked for an explanation about this choice, he had snapped at her defensively and told her to mind her own business. Since that day, they had grown apart.

He was a cowardly idiot. Tossing his indecipherable calculus homework aside he walked to the front desk to get his mail. Ms. Tarkin, who ran the switchboard, gave him a stranger look than usual as he got his mail.

First, a notice of a school wide meeting about an upcoming construction project. That would be extremely snore inducing.

Second, a letter from his mother. He teared up a little, thinking about home.

What was that? A bluish envelope lay on the bottom with no mark on it except a tiny 'Yours' scribbled in pencil. Bizarre, to say the least...

He looked up to see a blushing and frightened looking Claire.

***

Claire had thought that she was prepared for anything. She hadn't been prepared to run into Fred as he was about to open her fantasy slash confession of love. And how convenient that she was now shaking and the color of a tomato. So much for anonymity.

She watched as his expression became concerned, tender, protective. Just like it had ever since they had met when he sensed she was in trouble. It didn't help that he looked gorgeous today for some reason, with his jeans and button down shirt and eyes as deep and dark and mysterious as the Mariana Trench. His dark thick hair was all mussed, as if he'd been running his fingers through it for hours. Had he been working out too? He looked stronger and a tad intimidating, which only...

"Claire? Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." The words sounded bitter and cold. She felt a stabbing pain in her heart as she said an outright lie to Fred for the first time.

"You look in shock. Do you need to talk? Are you feeling well?" No. No. She needed to get away from his stare and too kind voice. It would only make things worse.

"Why should I answer? You didn't the last time I asked that question." The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

She instantly regretted it. The pain and guilty on his face knocked her flat. In spite of her hurt about that night, the night where she'd confronted him about his out of character actions that Halloween and his shaking up with Kat soon after.

He had told her to leave him alone and that it wasn't her business. It was the first time he'd ever acted angry towards her. Why?

"Cleo..." he cooed his pet name for her and pulled her close. "I'm so sorry. I acted horribly that night."

She should not ruin this. This plan was idiotic; she should pull away before he hurt her. So why was she burying her face in his chest and crying?

"Cleo? Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You really hurt me, you know," she said between sniffles. "It felt like you were rejecting me, like our past didn't matter...like I didn't matter." There. She'd said it.

"Claire. Look at me." The hell? Her brow wrinkled in confusion. He never used that tone with her. That sounded like an order.

The fantasy she'd written came back to her. He'd say those exact words in a very different context. Reluctantly, she raised her eyes to his and tried to turn off the inappropriate thoughts.

"I acted terribly that night. You were totally right to grill me on my actions, and I became defensive and fearful instead. You deserve much better than that from anyone. If you don't want to talk to me, I understand, but I need to tell you something-"

"What's up, babe?" It was Jake, looking slimy and smug as usual. She had hooked up with him once, and decided on the spot that he was a bad idea. He on the other hand had hounded her ever since, creeping her out severely.

"Nothing to concern you," she snapped.

"My, my, you are feisty this morning. How cute. I'll see you after class!" He sauntered off with a laugh.

Claire turned around to find Fred was gone.

***

Fred had slipped back to his room. Why was he deluding himself? She was in pain because he wasn't man enough to speak the truth. Probably the only thing he would get after confessing his feelings would be a completely deserved slap.

He shuddered as he remembered the way she felt in his arms, her small form tight against him. His little Cleo would most likely have run away if she had any idea how much he'd want to take her right there and then, to show her what he couldn't say out loud.

She was so beautiful and smart, and an odd mixture of strong and fragile that stole his heart. The way she'd gazed up at him when he told her to with her eyes full of emotion stuck in his memory.

He needed a distraction. Huffing, he snatched up the anonymous letter and started to read.