As promised, this is the first chapter of a special birthday fic for Kayleigh or _IamKayleigh on twitter :D I tried to make it as cute as possible, although this chapter is just setting the story up, so bear with! There's about two more chapters to come, unless people can persuade me otherwise ;) xxx
The fourth beer glass of the hour was mercilessly empty, along with the first, the second, and the third. The primal desire to calm his nerves had taken prime residence throughout his thoughts for the day; each second seemed like an eternity, mocking him until he could master the courage to dial her number.
The television droned on, the sound never quite reaching his consciousness, and his answer machine beeped for the thousandth time. He reached for his phone, his hand miraculously steady; the alcohol seemed to have combated the butterfly sensation in his stomach, or as his consultant would have worded it: the reaction from the release of mood-altering endorphins.
It was petty, really. She was his girlfriend, she had been for over a year, and, yet, he still felt like a love-sick teenager whenever she was around. He blamed her hair. Or her beautiful cheekbones, or the way her eyes glistened whenever she was excited; there were so many reasons for that one, simple fact: he loved her. He always had, he always will. That is why he found himself in this situation, staring uselessly at her number, (the first on speed-dial of course), unable to call.
The truth was, what he intended to do was beyond one hundred on the risk-factor scale, but, if he was to succeed, it would change his life for the better. Or should he say their life?
01276 689378
There. Her number flashed onto the screen, the green phone symbol sitting comfortably under. He placed the phone beside his ear, his fingers playing an unknown tune on the side. Inhaling as it rang, his eyes fluttered shut; the beer glass adjacent to him now looked even more drained than before, if that was even possible.
"Ms Naylor speaking." Her voice hit with an animated harshness. His will was instantly shattered. If it wasn't for the ring box glaring accusingly at him from underneath its wrappings, he would have bottled it then and there. There was a moment of silence. "Hello?" She was becoming agitated now - he could tell it was time to spring into action.
"Jac," even her name sent signals down his vertebrae, "it's Jonny." As he gave the first proof of the free and proper action of his lungs, Jac's mouth upturned into an alluring smile. His tones were flecked with a strong accent.
"Jonny?"
"Yes, you know, that frankly irresistible, Scottish Celt you happen to be shagging in your spare time?" He almost heard a laugh down the end of the line.
"Irresistible? Please. Irritating more like." Jonny shook his head, amused.
"Irritatingly sexy." He smirked although no one could see. Jac scoffed.
"Perhaps you should invest in a better dictionary." He felt his eyes drift solemnly to the bottle of forbidden alcohol, but he recovered.
"Splash out all my hard-earned cash on myself? Who could do that to their girl-friend on their birthday?"
Jac's sigh almost catapulted a pre-warning in front of him.
"I don't do birthdays," she muttered bitterly. At this, Jonny frowned.
"Sure you do, because you'll get to spend the day with your favourite nurse." He muted the television, his ears having to strain with the extra noise.
"And who's that, Florence Nightingale?" Jac's sarcasm did not go unnoticed, but Jonny knew better than to react.
"…Which is why I was thinking…"
"What have I told you about doing that?"
"…And I saw an advertisement for a funfair a few miles off, so…" Jonny could almost hear the inhalation of air from his respected partner. The atmosphere grew thicker, and in the need of a scalpel.
"A funfair?!" He left the momentum revelation to sink in.
Half an hour of tiresome squabbles and calculated insults later, Jonny had managed to convince the consultant to attend the evening after. His ego enlarged, he threw down the phone and leaned back on the sofa, stretching out his arms, smiling proudly to himself.
And then there was a knock at the door.
He stumbled up, fell back, and made his way carefully towards the source of the disturbance. He threw open the door, and was met by two, slight children attaching themselves to his unaided legs. His gaze catapulted upwards and to the smiling, blonde woman standing on his doorstep.
"Rebecca?!" He exclaimed, eyes wide, before the penny dropped with a nasty clatter.
He gaped at his sister from across the boundaries to his house. All he could do was watch as his relations bundled in, the children dragging various pink and blue suitcases behind him.
"I can't stay long, so here's a list of numbers that you might need," his sister handed the bemused nurse a side of paper, "and make sure Ewan goes to bed on time. He's a real nightmare when he's tired, as I'm sure you remember from last time…" Jonny wasn't sure he wanted to recall that unfortunate incident with sleeping patients and super glue.
The younger girl nudged her mother cautiously.
"Oh and Jonny," she whispered carefully, "these will be needed." Rebecca handed him a packet of Pampers, and Jonny could only stare at her.
Smiling at her brood, she planted a kiss on both of their cheeks, which the older sibling promptly wiped off, and headed back to the car, relief setting in.
The situation only just dawning upon him, Jonny stood, transfixed to the floor of his living room, as his nephew and niece turned the place inside out.