Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs Guilty Conscience

(A/N: Hey, howdy, hey, mon ami! Per request, I've decided to try to write another CWACOM fic. This one will have multiple chapters and will continue for as long as I can keep it going. I'm pretty new to fic writing so bear with me. If this is successful I may do more. We'll see! I hope you all enjoy it!)

Flint Lockwood sat atop of Sparkswood Lab, staring out over the island he called home. It was strange how something could seem so familiar yet completely foreign at the same time. Swallow Falls now truly resembled what one might imagine when hearing the word "island". Thick layers of vegetation blanketed much of the island varying in color and size. Bright greens, blues, and purples which had an almost neon quality predominated most of the landscape. Part of him wondered how his machine could have compensated to make what was, as far as he could tell, non-food-related vegetation. He hadn't a clue how any of it was even possible but, again, he thought it best to just not think about it.

Taking his attention away from the scenery, Flint moved his gaze to the spot beside him which was occupied by a certain brilliant weather girl. They had made a sort of tradition of watching the sunset together at the highest vantage point their laboratory had to offer. They would sit side by side, each clasping the others hand, as they watched the fiery sphere make its daily decent.

Sam's head rested on Flint's shoulder, the scent of her strawberry blonde hair and their general close proximity making his head swim a little. After well over half a year her mere presence still managed to befuddle the young inventor and he found that he was completely okay with that. He could overlook his nervousness, the minute tremble of his hand clasping hers, to bask in the warm glow of their silent companionship. He paused at that last thought. Silent? Suddenly, he realized Sam had not spoken in a good ten minutes.

A tiny jolt of panic sparked in the back of his mind as he craned his head trying fruitlessly to look at her face without disturbing her from her spot on his shoulder.

"Sam...?" he called out, just above a whisper.

No response. Flint's brows furrowed in worry. Had he done something to offend her? Was she feeling ill? A thousand scenarios ran through his head, each one more dire than the last.

"Sam?" This time a bit more persistent. "Sam?! Are you ok-.."

His only response was a deep, tired sigh as the weather girl stretched slightly and moved her face down a bit to nuzzle against his chest affectionately, looping her free arm around his waist firmly. The look on Flint's face was priceless.

He sat there rigidly, wound as tightly as a spring, his face burning such a violent crimson he vaguely resembled their Strawberry friend Berry. He had all the cool demeanor of a startled rabbit with eyes the size of dinner plates and his free hand suspended in the air, afraid to move or touch anything. The hand that remained clasped in hers began to sweat. _**REAL**__ attractive, Lockwood_, he mentally berated himself. He couldn't really blame himself though, this was all still very new to him and they had not really gone past chaste kisses and gentle hugs. Cuddling was a sudden step he hadn't quite been prepared for. Though it may have seemed like a simple gesture to most people to the inexperienced young man at this moment it felt like the most intimate, personal thing in the world.

"Um…. Sam….?" He virtually squeaked, clearing his throat before continuing. "I uh… What are you-.. um…I-.." He spouted out, hopelessly grasping for enough words to form a cohesive sentence before he noticed a small noise. It sounded sort of like…. Snoring? He mentally slapped himself. She was asleep!

Flint relaxed visibly at this realization, slowly becoming accustomed to the feeling of her body pressing against him though the redness in his cheeks persisted. He had to admit, this was… nice. Really nice. She was so close to him he could feel her heart beating against him in a soft, steady rhythm. Laying against his chest as she was, he wonder how she had slept through the sudden thundering of his own heart which was only now just starting to slow to a more normal pace. Feeling her heart beating against him seemed to help in an odd way, almost as if her heart beat was helping to guide and regulate his own. Flint smile down at her, endearingly. She truly did have total control of his heart.

He felt sort of guilty allowing her to unknowingly lie against him like that but he couldn't find it in him to disturb her. She seemed so peaceful and relaxed. He could just see her glasses resting precariously on the end of her nose and for a brief moment he wondered if he should remove them before they fell completely off. He wished he could see her entire face at this moment but he was afraid that if he moved to do so it would wake her. He imagined what she might look like right now, her face totally relaxed, perhaps with a small smile, silhouetted in the soft pink and orange hue that was just beginning to fade from the sky. Flint sighed dreamily; closing his eyes so as to better focus on the mental image of her his mind had created. In that moment, everything seemed so completely perfect.

"How _sweet_." A familiar nasally voice called out, dripping with sarcasm and contempt.

Flint's blood felt as though it had suddenly frozen solid within his veins as he instantly recognized that taunting voice. He snapped his eyes open and stared disbelievingly at the lanky figure leering down at him.

It was Chester V.

(A/N: Ermahgerd, **DRAMA BOMB**. I hope you guys like where I'm going with this so far! Feel free to say whether you did or not and if you think I should keep going. Thanks for reading!)


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Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs, Drama, Suspense