


Creddie Movie Drabbles A Z

by wannabe1980



Category: iCarly
Genre: Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-10-26
Packaged: 2013-12-17 09:41:53
Rating: T
Chapters: 14
Words: 5,497
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5877538/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2030258/wannabe1980
Summary: Exactly what the title says. A collection of Creddie drabbles with movie titles. Rating may change. I don't own iCarly or any of the movies mentioned.





	1. Amistad

**AN: I'm trying my hand at drabbles. I've never done one before. This will be a series of drabbles with movie titles from A to Z. Still working on my other projects, too.**

Amistad

_Amistad_. In Spanish, it means "friendship." At least that's what the DVD case said.

But what was happening on that ship was anything but friendly.

Freddie tried his best to pay attention to the movie. He knew his history teacher expected him to come to class prepared to discuss the movie's portrayal of events compared to the historical record—basically, how Hollywood got it wrong.

But Freddie couldn't focus on the movie. He was too distracted by the beautiful brunette beside him. He studied her profile as she gazed at the screen. She turned from the screen and hid her face in his chest when the fighting got too bloody for her. He wrapped an arm around her and sighed.

_Amistad_. Friendship. Devotion. Obsession. Love.

Some words just weren't strong enough to describe what one person can feel for another.


	2. Barefoot in the Park

**Just a short one this time, but I hope you like! Thanks to the reviewers! :)**

_Barefoot in the Park_

They sat in the sun on a grassy slope. Alone. Unnoticed. Practically forgotten. But they were together.

The drone of traffic hummed in the distance. Birds sang from boughs high above them. The scent of hotdogs and relish wafted on the breeze to every corner of the urban oasis.

Two small red ones and two larger black ones. They lay together, piled on top of one another in a tangle of laces. Soles connecting.

And from somewhere nearby floated the laughter of a teenage boy and girl as the grass tickled their bare feet. They stumbled and fell to the ground together, piled on top of each other in a tangle of arms and legs. Souls connecting.


	3. Clueless

**I'm glad you're all enjoying these drabbles. Thanks for the reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy! :) Here's another one for ya...hope you like it. R&R!**

_Clueless_

She watched him fend of the new girl's advances from across the hall. She knew she had nothing to worry about.

The girl was pretty. She was quickly gaining popularity and status, and she was interested in him. _He_ just wasn't interested in _her_. The poor girl was clueless.

His eyes connected with her own as the new girl finally slinked away, forgotten.

Carly realized she had watched this particular scene unfold many times before. The only difference was that Freddie's face was filled with joy instead of sadness as he gazed at her this time.

Carly smiled as she stepped into his waiting arms. It had taken her so long to see what was right in front of her face all along.

She felt sparks fly when their lips met.

She wasn't clueless anymore.


	4. Dirty Dancing

Dirty Dancing

She had danced with him once before, but it was nothing like this. They couldn't have gotten away with _this_ the first time.

The first time they danced, they were in a public place. Granted, the only other person in the building had been the slightly eccentric manager with a penchant for food on sticks, and he had turned his attention to wiping up the counters in the back. But still….

The first time, it was sweet and innocent. She rested her head on his shoulder and enjoyed the feeling of safety as his arms held her snugly against his chest. He breathed in the scent of her hair and shivered as her warm breath tickled his neck.

It would have been scandalous for him to trail his lips from her throat down to her chest as she threw her head back and ran her hands through his hair, pulling him closer to her.

Some would call it lewd if she had turned her back to him and pressed her hips into his as they ground into each other.

They would have been asked to leave if he had picked her up, and she had wrapped her legs around his waist, and he had pinned her against the wall, writhing in time with the music.

But that was _then_. That was _there_.

It was different this time.

This time, they were all alone in the privacy of the studio.

Dirty dancing was okay here.

* * *

**Click the button. You know you want to. :)**


	5. Eraser

_Eraser_

Eraser. That's what her mouth was like. And not just because her lips and tongue were soft, and pink, and pliant. It was an odd comparison, he knew, but he thought it fit perfectly.

He thought she would laugh if he said so out loud. He thought he would be embarrassed and his cheeks would turn red.

He thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world. He thought he could drown in her deep brown eyes. He thought her shiny black hair felt like silk.

He thought his heart would leap out of his chest when she put her arms around him and lifted her face to his. He thought his knees would give out when she ran her fingers through his hair and tugged--not hard enough to hurt, but not exactly gentle either.

He thought he was the luckiest guy in the whole world with her in his arms. He thought it was too good to be true.

He thought he had everything he had ever wanted or ever could want now that she was his.

He thought his heart would shatter if she ever left him.

But then her lips touched his, and her mouth erased all thoughts from his mind.

* * *

**Love it? Hate it? Review it! :)**


	6. French Kiss

**AN: Another installment of Creddie movie drabbles! I apologize for the delay. This project got pushed to the back burner for a while so I could work on iFind My Father and iStop the Wedding. Thank you all for your patience. I hope it won't take me so long to get the next one done.**

**Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this fic. I thrive on feedback!  
**

**Special thanks to the Seddie fans (lovelyMESS, IronishRose, & StylishCandy) who've been reading this fic and showing some love! It really means a lot to hear positive feedback from folks who aren't die hard Creddie fans.  
**

_French Kiss_

Freddie really didn't know why it was called a _French_ kiss. He had heard it was because the French had invented it. He seriously doubted that was true, but he had never bothered to research it.

_(His breath hitched as she stepped into his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck.)_

He certainly couldn't think of anything that was particularly French about it. People all over the world did it, so why would it be called a French kiss unless it was, in fact, invented in France?

_(He felt goosebumps rise all over as she ran her fingers through his hair, and tingles went from his scalp all the way down his spine.)_

He would have to Zaplook it later. He figured he would find out it had absolutely nothing to do with the French.

_(His pulse raced as she lifted her lips to his.)_

But the first time Carly's tongue swept in between his lips to caress his own ever so softly, _"Viva la France!"_ was all he could think.


	7. Gentlemen Prefer Blondes

**AN: So this was the first one of these drabbles that I thought of. It's the one that inspired me to do this whole project. I've had the basic idea written for a while, but I wanted to be sure I had it right before I posted it. Hope you like it. Thanks for all the reviews! I really appreciate your feedback. :)**

_Gentlemen Prefer Blondes_

I held her hand in mine, our fingers interlaced, as we walked slowly down the sidewalk. The heat from her hand warmed me, despite the chill of the early autumn breeze. We shared a companionable silence, and I felt like the luckiest guy in the world to be with her. My mind wandered, savoring memories of the past few months we'd been dating.

"Gentlemen prefer blondes," she said softly, shaking me out of my reverie.

"Huh?" I said, blinking at her in confusion.

"Gentlemen prefer blondes," she said again with a mischievous grin.

"They do?" I asked.

"That's what the sign says," she said, laughing and pointing at something over my shoulder.

I turned to look across the street where she was pointing. There was a rundown old movie theater--the kind with only one screen, probably built in the 20s or 30s--that showed classic films every Sunday. There was a big poster of Marilyn Monroe by the door, the black background setting off her platinum hair and bright pink dress. Underneath the intricate flashing lights of the theater's sign, the marquis proclaimed this week's feature: "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes."

"Hmm, well," I said, turning back to face Carly, feigning thoughtfulness, "I guess that proves me wrong."

"About what?" she asked.

"I always thought _I_ was a gentleman," I said, smiling down at her as I wrapped her in my arms then captured her lips.

Her laughter rang out when our lips parted. Her raven hair gleamed in the sun, and her obsidian eyes sparkled with mirth.

There wasn't a blonde on earth who could hold a candle to her.


	8. Home Alone

**AN: That's right, y'all! I updated two (2) stories in one day! Woohoo!**

**Many thanks to everyone who reads & reviews this story and iFind My Father. I love you all!**

_Home Alone_

Carly sat alone on her couch, bored and lonely with Spencer out of town for the week. She wasn't too fond of being home alone.

Freddie entered his empty apartment. His mother's message had told him she wouldn't be home until late that night. He settled in for a long evening at home alone.

Carly heard Freddie's door slam. She wanted to go over there, but she was in no mood to be harangued about eating vegetables and checking for ticks.

Freddie wondered what Carly was up to. He knew Spencer was out of town. He figured Carly was probably with Sam.

Both of them sighed, wishing for each other's company. Neither of them knew the other wanted the same thing.

They both turned on their televisions and waited for the seconds to tick by.

There just wasn't much to do when you were home alone.

Carly fell asleep on the couch and dreamed of Freddie.

Freddie dreamed of Carly every night.

Neither one would ever admit these facts to the other.

Freddie let himself into the Shays' apartment with the spare key. He set the server he had come to install on the coffee table and knelt beside Carly, watching her sleep for a moment.

Carly sighed Freddie's name in her sleep. Freddie's heart skipped a beat.

Freddie stroked Carly's hair, brushing it away from her face. Carly smiled at him as her eyes fluttered open.

Freddie apologized for waking her. He said he didn't think anyone was here.

Carly told him she had wanted to come see him. She said she thought his mom was probably keeping him busy.

Carly sat up, and Freddie sat down beside her. She scooted closer to him, and he put an arm around her.

They talked for a long time. Then they kissed even longer.

Spencer called, and Carly told him that she was fine, that she had eaten dinner, that he didn't need to worry or send anyone to check on her, and that she was actually enjoying being home alone tonight.

Freddie texted his mother and told her that he was fine, that he had finished his asparagus, that she didn't need to worry or come home early, and that he was really enjoying being home alone tonight.

They found each other's lips again and somehow lost a few pieces of clothing.

Carly forgot about her loneliness, and Freddie forgot about the server.

They were far too busy to think about such things.

There was just too much to do when you were home alone.


	9. I Am Sam

**AN: Thanks to all those who reviewed! Your feedback keeps me going!**

**This one is a bit different, but I'm happy with the way it turned out. It's Sam's POV, but it's still Creddie. I hope you all enjoy it.**

**Please R&R!**

_I Am Sam_

I am Sam. My best friend thinks I'm a trouble maker. She's not wrong about that, but then again…in a way, she is.

Sure, I make—and get into—more than my fair share of trouble. The secret no one knows, though, is that I stop a lot more trouble than I start. I'm the only one the _real_ juvenile delinquents are scared of—the only one who can stop them from doing something crazy like…say…setting fire to the school sign. The downside is that, when I stop them, sometimes I get left holding the bag and get in trouble for supposedly trying to do what I stopped them from doing.

My best friend's other best friend isn't exactly a best friend of mine. He thinks I love seeing him in pain. He's not wrong about that, but then again…in a way, he is.

Sure, I cause—and often inflict—more than his fair share of pain. The secret no one knows, though, is that I spare him a lot more pain than I cause. I'm the only one the _real_ bullies are scared of—the only one who can stop them from doing something vicious like…say…beating him up behind the school gym. The downside is that, sometimes I get hurt or get in trouble for doing to them what they would have done to him.

No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.

My best friend, Carly, and her other best friend, Freddie, are both smart, kind, good students, and good friends.

I am Sam. I'm clever (smart, even), but I don't make very good grades. I'm not always kind, but I'm loyal. I'm not a good student, but I am a good friend. Anyone who hurts my friends will have hell to pay.

Carly wants what every girl wants. Someone who will always love her. Someone who will always think she's beautiful and who won't say a word about the big zit on her chin. Someone who will never cheat on her or lie to her. Someone like Freddie.

Of course, she'd also like someone who fills out a tight white tee shirt nicely. Freddie's not quite there yet, but he's on his way.

Freddie wants Carly. He loves her with all his heart. He thinks she is beautiful inside and out. He doesn't even see that huge zit on her chin. He thinks her flaws just accentuate her perfection.

Of course, he really wants her to love him for who he is. Carly's not quite there yet, but she's on her way.

I won't let Carly settle—not even for Freddie.

I won't let Freddie be used, either—not even by Carly.

She's not in love with him. Not yet.

It's coming, though. She is gradually starting to see him as the kind of guy she could really fall for. One day soon, the time will be right. _They_ will be right.

Until then, I won't let my best friends (yes, I included Freddie that time) get hurt—not even by each other.

Why?

Because…

I am Sam. Trouble maker. Bully. Best friend extraordinaire.


	10. Just Like Heaven

**AN: This chapter is brought to you by the letter "J." I hope you'll enjoy it. Love to all the reviewers! **

**To Carl Rahl: Sorry I couldn't use your suggestion, but the title of that movie just didn't work for what I'm doing with this project. I do plan to write a one-shot using the idea you suggested, though. So thanks for the suggestion!**

**Please R&R!  
**

_Just Like Heaven_

She's an angel. He's sure of it. No ordinary girl could be so beautiful.

Her skin is alabaster. Fair and flawless. Untouched by time.

Her lips are rose petals. Soft as velvet. Red as blood. Glossy with moisture like morning dew.

Her hair is obsidian. Sleek, and smooth. Black, with wild explosions of color playing in the light. Rainbows hidden in its fathomless depths.

Her eyes are the night sky. So dark, but shining with the light of millions of blazing stars. He gazes into them in wonder and sees galaxies glittering there.

Her dark features stand stark against the white cloud that surrounds her. She beckons him, and he joins her. The cloud is soft. Fluffy. Warm and safe. Just like heaven.

She smiles at him, and her smile sparkles like diamonds in sunlight. Blinding yet mesmerizing. Her beauty is almost too much for his mortal eyes to behold, but he can't look away.

He's no longer on earth. He can't feel the ground beneath him. Can't feel gravity holding him down. He's soaring in her arms. He's left the world behind, and he doesn't regret it. He's headed toward something wonderful. Something unimaginable. Something…perfect. Just like heaven.

He touches her, and she radiates the sun's warmth. It penetrates his soul. Sparks fly like summer lightning where his skin meets hers, sending jolts of electric bliss throughout his body. He trembles with anticipation, eagerness, and maybe a tiny hint of fear.

He tastes her like warm honey on his tongue. She whispers to him, her breath a gentle breeze laden with fragrant honeysuckle. Fresh as spring rain.

Her voice is melodic like birdsong. It floods his mind, drowning out every other sound. Three simple words from her sweet mouth bring him more joy than he's ever felt before.

He soars higher and higher with her, forgetting the world and everyone in it. All that matters is her. She is everywhere. Beneath him. Surrounding him. Nothing exists but her. He is losing himself in her, and he doesn't care.

He melds with her, and every heartache he's ever known is forgotten. Every sadness erased from his memory. He knows nothing but happiness. Peace and love and pleasure. Just like heaven.

She takes him to the summit—the highest peak in the universe—and he cries out as he finds the fulfillment he has sought all his life. He hears her musical voice calling his name ("Freddie!") as he hangs suspended at the height of pleasure. And in this moment—this one, infinite moment—he swears he hears the dulcet harmonies of heaven's angelic choir.

He breathes her name ("Carly") as he floats in her star-filled eyes, slowly descending from the mountaintop they shared. He rests his head beside hers on the fluffy white pillow and pulls the soft white sheet over them. He returns those three words she gave him earlier ("I love you") as he slips into the cocoon of her embrace. Satisfaction and contentment fill him as the warmth of her love washes over him.

Just like heaven.


	11. Keeping the Faith

**AN: This is a short one, but I hope you like it! Thanks to everyone who reads/reviews this story! I love feedback! Please R&R!**

Keeping the Faith

He knows he could make her happy, if only she would give him the chance. He loves her more than anyone else ever will.

He believes that they are meant to be. He knows in his heart that one day she will be his. Since the day he met her, he has kept the faith.

She is everything to him. He would give his life for her. He very nearly did once.

And when he did, she almost (_almost!_) opened her eyes, and he almost had her. But everyone will tell you almost doesn't count.

But he wanted her to see him clearly. He knew her sight was clouded with hero worship. So he told her to wait, and she closed her eyes again before the fog lifted.

Now he longs for her to look at him again. He stands before her, waiting and hoping, but her eyes stay closed.

He thinks she knows that he's there waiting. It hurts that she won't look at him. (But really, she's just afraid that if she opens her eyes, he won't be there anymore.)

He tells himself not to give up. She's worth the wait. Worth the pain. He just has to hold on a little longer.

So he stays right where he is. Other girls come and go, but he doesn't move on. He couldn't walk away from her if he tried.

He lives each day like he has lived every day since he met her. Waiting for her. Believing in their love. Keeping the faith.


	12. Liar, Liar

**AN: Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this one. Thank you all SO much for your feedback. I really appreciate your taking time to leave a comment. So...here we go with the letter "L" :)**

_Liar, Liar_

She tells herself she doesn't love him. She insists they are just friends.

_Liar! _The little voice in her head screams the word at her.

She hates that voice. It doesn't sound like anyone she knows, but it's the most familiar sound in her world. She's sure it can't be _her_ voice because it's far too _irritating_ to be any part of herself. It calls her out on all of her crap, and it knows her better than she knows herself. It must be external. Except it's not.

She tells him it's okay if he invites his online girlfriend over. She says she's fine with it.

_Liar! _

She's sure someone else must have heard it that time. It was so loud! No one reacts, though, so she pretends she didn't hear it either.

She pretends she's not overjoyed when the girl from the web turns out to be a giant. She hides her smiles when she sees him shy away from that girl, avoiding her touch, keeping his distance. She tells Sam it's just too bad things didn't work out with Freddie and Sabrina. She says she had hoped they might hit it off.

_LIAR!_

Spencer asks her what's wrong when he sees her covering her ears. She tells him his air conditioner works too well. Her ears are cold. Sabrina leaves, and she tells her it was nice to meet her. She tells her she hopes they will see her again soon.

_LIAR! LIAR! LIAR!_

She turns the stereo on full blast to drown out the voice. She tells herself she's not lying. Her heart hasn't been breaking all day. And even if there is a slight pain in her chest (which there definitely isn't!), it has nothing to do with Freddie.

A new sound mingles with the music. _LIAR! LIIIIAR! LIAR! LII-I-IIIAR!  
_

So the voice can sing, too, huh? Interesting. She switches the stereo off and dashes up the stairs to the studio. She tells herself she's not hiding. She screams at the voice to shut up before it can say what she knows is coming.

She feels a warm hand on her shoulder. She looks up, and there he is. His warm chocolate eyes full of concern. He asks her what's wrong. She tells him it's nothing. He asks her if it has anything to do with Sabrina. She tells him it doesn't.

She pulls away from his touch when he reaches for her cheek. She tells herself the pain in his eyes isn't mirrored in her heart.

She waits for the voice, but it remains silent. It doesn't matter, though. She knows what it would have said anyway.


	13. My Girl

**AN: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait for this chapter. Things have been hectic lately. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed. A special thanks to creddie girl for suggesting "My Girl" as the "M" title. This title works really well for what I'm doing with the project, so I decided to go with it. Most of these drabbles are completely unrelated, but this one is different. :) If you haven't already read "Liar, Liar" please read it before reading this one. **

**And now...**

_My Girl_

My girl is amazing. Incredible. Perfect.

She's smart, and sweet, and funny. She has a heart of gold, and her personality kicks ass. Did I mention beautiful? No, scratch that. Make it GORGEOUS. Top it all off with her self-made celebrity status, and she's like the holy grail of girlfriends.

She's the kind of girl who could have any guy she wanted. Anyone. Anytime. Anywhere.

But she wants me. ME! Freddie Benson, the AV tech geek who sleeps on Galaxy Wars sheets. The fifteen-year-old guy whose mother still feeds him fruit sauce. Yeah, go figure.

I can't imagine why she loves me, but I see it every time I look into her deep brown eyes. Every time I run my fingers through her soft raven hair and kiss her full sweet lips, she looks at me like I'm the center of her world. She whispers in my ear, her angelic voice telling me that she loves me…that she's mine.

But then I wake up.

My girl…that girl I dream about each night…she's real. She lives right across the hall from me. I'm sitting on her couch right now. She's in the kitchen practically worshipping a fan. It's hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell today, and we're all sweaty and miserable. But she still looks unbelievably sexy with her hair blown back by the fan. And that light sheen of sweat glistening on her skin? Yeah, she totally rocks that look.

Her quirky older brother has finally managed to cool this place down, but now it's as crowded as a pastry buffet at a Flab Fighters meeting. And now Sabrina is coming over. Great. Just great.

I didn't even want Carly to know about Sabrina. It's not like I'm actually interested in her—not really. I've only been chatting with her because she's fun to talk to, and it takes my mind off Carly for a little while. Maybe I could like Sabrina that way on down the road—if I ever give up on Carly—but I'm not there yet. Not even close.

So here I am, trying to play it cool. Trying not to offend Sabrina or let Carly see how hard this is for me. Sabrina's nice, but good lord! What did they feed her as a child? I feel like a little kid next to her. Awkward!

I can't help but watch Carly from the corner of my eye. I always keep an eye on my girl. She's been acting weird today, ever since she told me to invite Sabrina. And that line about her ears being cold? Yeah, right. I know my girl better than that.

I know I have to follow her when she runs up to the studio. There she is, sitting on a bean bag, hugging her knees. She looks like she's about to cry. I can't stand to see my girl cry.

She looks up at me when I put my hand on her shoulder, and the look on her face nearly breaks my heart. It's nothing like the look she gives me in my dreams—the look that tells me she's all mine. This look is full of sadness, and I can't figure out why.

She won't tell me what's wrong. I take a chance (hope springs eternal, right?) and ask her if it's because of Sabrina, which she denies. Of course. She wouldn't be jealous of me with another girl. That only happens in my dreams.

Still, her sad face gets to me, and I forget myself. I reach out to touch her cheek, to comfort her, expecting her to lean into my touch and give me _that_ look. But she doesn't melt into me the way my girl should. She pulls away before I even make contact with her creamy skin.

Hello, Reality! So nice to be bitch-slapped by you today!

Yeah, my girl is amazing. Incredible. Perfect. Except for one thing.

She isn't mine at all.


	14. The Notebook

**AN: Hey guys! I know the last couple of drabbles have been kind of sad. This one is a little better, but there's still angst. Sorry! I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. You know how determined a muse can be, right? Anyway, I hope you like it. Please R&R! :)**

_The Notebook_

He watched her longingly from across the room as she brushed her thick raven hair. He sighed, taking a seat on her ice cream sandwich bench to wait for her. He figured he would be waiting a while. She was still wearing her pajamas. He didn't mind, though. He would wait forever for her. After all, he had done nothing but wait for her—figuratively speaking—all his life.

He noticed a thin spiral-bound notebook lying open on the coffee table. Colored pencils lay scattered around it. He figured she must be in the middle of a sketch. He wondered if the notebook had been placed face down to keep her place or to hide the pages. Either way, he would respect her privacy.

He turned his attention back to her when he heard her rise from her seat. He studied her back as she sorted through the clothes in her closet, searching for the perfect ensemble. He knew she wanted to look her best tonight. He wished that it was for him.

She finally pulled a few items from the closet and crossed to the bathroom. He caught her sweet scent as she passed him, and his head swam. It nearly broke him each time he got this close to her, knowing he couldn't have her.

He had always held on to hope that one day she would be his. He kept that tiny flame burning, fueled by each little moment they had ever shared. That time she kissed his nose. Their slow dance in the Groovy Smoothie. All those sweet kisses and caresses when he saved her. But that tiny little flame was fading fast, starving for fuel.

No one had ever told him how much it hurts when hope starts to die. When the fire fights for its life, desperately lapping at anything that might sustain it. He didn't know if the pain would subside when the flame finally flickered out, but he prayed it wouldn't get any worse. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand it.

She closed the bathroom door behind her, leaving him alone in her room. His eyes returned to the bright yellow cover of the notebook, and his curiosity ate at him. He fought the urge to reach for it, but then he caught a hint of a reflection in the water inside the table. He thought his eyes must be playing tricks on him. He finally gave in, gingerly picking up the notebook and turning it over. What he saw on the page shocked him.

He quickly returned the notebook to its prior position when he heard the bathroom door opening, but he mentally tossed it onto his flickering hope. The tiny spark exploded inside him. Carly stepped out, looking beautiful as always, and smiled at him. He beamed back at her as the hope blazed in his heart.

Later that night, Freddie and Carly stood in the hallway between their front doors. Freddie leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Carly's cheek, bidding her goodnight. Carly returned to her room, still feeling the tingle of his lips. Her tiny spark was burning stronger now.

She picked up her notebook, taking a seat on the ice cream bench. She smiled as she studied her drawing, deciding it needed a few more touches. She reached for the pink pencil and began coloring in another heart around the doodle—a series of multi-colored hearts surrounding a name. A name that represented the hope of two burning hearts that night.

"Mrs. Carly Benson."


End file.
