brows raise gently as fez feels his chest tighten , heart threatening to leap from his chest as the seconds that pass feel like hours . “ oh . ” it’s a simple response as any , though it makes his chest heavier . “ nah , got some left . was probably gonna go out back and smoke after this cup . ” with a light shrug of his shoulders , fez positions his body in a way that’s more open to lexi . “ you remember new year’s ? i mean , before i . . . ” voice trails off as fez shakes his head . his hand still throbs sometimes when he thinks of that night . “ you’re a good person to be around . i don’t mean that shit like we’re always perfect fuckin’ people , ‘cause i know i’m not . have my fair share of regrets and shit . guess i’m sayin’ that , um , meeting you ? never gonna regret that . ”introspection has never been one of fezco o’neill’s strong suits , but , up until meeting lexi howard , he’s never had to examine his emotions much . sure , he’d had hookups and crushes , but none he’d want to pursue . besides , his life was sometimes a battlefield and he’s got plenty of scars to prove it . did he want to bring lexi into the chaos , risk losing her ? a million times , no . but , what do you do when you can’t get someone off your mind – at what point are you forced to take the risk ?
through the fraying and snapping of some invisible thread, lexi instantly feels she’s erred. the point of tonight, if ever there was one, certainly wasn’t this: to send them skittering away from each other like the opposite poles that they are. she, to refill a drink she’s barely nursed, and he, to disappear into the thick of a crowd far more exciting than his present company. mind already abuzz with the fleeting flickers of rewrites –– better scenes in which she had stopped when she should have, and just him guess no matter her humiliation, her vulnerability –– that shame soon finds itself at war with confusion when he turns to her. god, that’s all it takes. it’s nothing but the right, polite thing to do when speaking to someone over the din of a party –– but to lexi, it’s everything every time.
she sits up straighter, rapt, wordlessly grasping for a chance at that thread again. that understanding. for that there is no judgment in her recall, none that factors in anymore; not even when he alludes to the very thing that most often confounds her. he's just enough shades away from being perfect to render him human again, and even then . . . he offers up exhilarating declarations like those, ones he can almost certainly not guarantee he’ll mean weeks or months or years from now –– or whenever never ends –– and lexi can’t be convinced he’s just a person and not some waking dream. honest and kind, fez believes she too is good; maybe the least she can do is try to be honest, too, in spite of herself. fearless. with each passing day the difficulty lessens with him; sometimes he even makes it safe, like she’s only following him, placing her feet in exactly the prints he’s left for her, guiding her where he goes first –– like he knows she needs the nudge. “ i’ll never regret meeting you either. ” it’s sincere and quiet, soft eyes touched. “ i regret basically ninety - five percent of things in my life, but –– not you. seriously, fez, you’re just . . . one of the best people i’ve ever met. maybe that i’ll ever meet. you know ” –– because she’s being honest –– “ parties aren’t usually my most favorite thing, but i wanted to come tonight in case it meant, well, seeing you. ”
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