Blue Sky

[musicalluna]

Title: Blue Sky
Fandom: Psych
Author: MusicalLuna
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Shawn/Juliet
Genre: Romance
Warnings: None
Complete: Yes
Summary: Blue skies remind her of him.
A/N: I dunno where this came from. I wanted to write O'Spencer last night, thought of a blue, blue sky, and this popped out. XDDDDDDD
Disclaimer: I do not own Psych or the characters.

The sky is absurdly blue today, and, irritatingly enough, it reminds her of him.

Clear blue skies, spotted with pure, fluffy white clouds and oozing with blinding golden sunshine make her happy.

He makes her happy.

She wishes he didn’t make her happy, but he does.

So happy she wonders where she went wrong with him.

Somehow, he managed to wiggle, and squiggle, and wriggle, and every other kind of –iggle under her skin, but he hadn’t stopped there, oh no. No, he’d happily picked and poked and rearranged his way all the way into her heart.

Damn him.

She’s been denying it for months now, stubbornly ignoring her feelings and shutting him down with a coldness that really isn’t necessary, because he’s never pushed himself on her too hard.

He always manages to maintain this perfect balance of casual levity and serious emotion that leaves her bewildered every single time. She doesn’t understand how it is that he affects her so precisely.

She knows he’s a playboy, she knows he’s unreliable, she knows he’s incorrigible, but at the same time, she knows he’s serious when he’s asking her out. She knows he’s the kind of foundation she could build a life with. And she knows that she could very easily love him until the day that she dies.

That scares her. And it takes all of the joy out of a blue sky and out of that cheeky grin.

"Hey, Jules."

She stiffens, sitting up straighter and her head turns sharply to see him grinning that heart-melting quirky grin of his and dammit if he hasn’t taken her by surprise again. "Shawn."

"Beautiful day, isn’t it?" he remarks and slides onto the bench beside her. A frown tugs at her mouth because he’s exactly the kind of company she didn’t want, despite a small part of her cheering because he’s showed up.

"Yes, Shawn," she replies curtly. "It is."

He tilts his head, eyes scrutinizing her, making her feel utterly transparent, and he says, "I can go if you don’t want me here, Jules."

It hurts a little to hear him say those words, and she can’t imagine how he must feel, having to say them and knowing that part of her does want him to go. She looks at him and her throat immediately tightens because his hazel eyes are watching her with undisguised concern.

What is she supposed to do with this man? How is she supposed to trust him? Can she trust him? She doesn’t want to have her heart broken by someone she knows has already gotten a firm grip on her heart. If she lets him in, she’s risking everything, risking the ultimate pain. Can she do that? Can she?

His actions and words are constantly veering wildly between yes and no. She can’t trust either of those. But the tone of his voice, and his eyes…

He’s still waiting for an answer.

"No, Shawn," she finally says. "Please, stay."