One Last Sleepover
Set the night of the Frostival. Fiona has gone home with Holly J to finish packing up her loft. In the morning she flies out to New York. Can she really not see Imogen until after the holidays?
Several chapters, pure Fimogen. Love your feedback/reviews pals.
Midnight. No, one minute past. It was now officially tomorrow. Moving day. Fiona stood silently in her dark lounge room and stared down the big wall clock, willing it somehow to go backwards. She narrowed her eyes, focusing all of her energy into the clock.
"Go on," she urged it. "Back to yesterday. Back to Frostival."
She closed her eyes. Visualised the clock slowing, then spinning backwards, taking her back to the carnival, pulling her onto the ferris wheel and into Imogen's waiting arms.
Fiona snapped her eyes open.
The clock stubbornly ticked on into the future, echoing softly in the packed up loft.
"Fine. Go ahead and obey the stupid laws of time and space," she frowned.
Cold and defeated, Fiona returned to her bedroom, quietly shutting the door behind her. She turned and took the room in. Everything apart from her bed and a small bedside lamp had been either packed up or sold. The room seemed so impossibly big and empty now. The dark corners of the room seemed to swallow up the dim light of the little lamp and Fiona instinctively held herself tightly as her old enemy loneliness pressed in on her. She frowned deeply at her bed. How was she expected to sleep when every moment she slept was a moment closer to her leaving Toronto – and a particular someone – behind?
She pulled a blanket off the bed and, wrapping it around her shoulders, snuggled onto the windowsill. The moon had risen high and the city seemed to twinkle in the night. A smile crept over Fiona's lips as she replayed the moments on the ferris wheel over again for the millionth time: finally finding the courage and swooping in for a kiss. Imogen's eyes perfectly round with shock, blinking rapidly as Fiona began to panic and babble, sure she had ruined everything. And then. Imogen calling out her name – urgent, immediate, "Fiona!" – before pulling her in for the softest, sweetest two kisses she ever could have imagined.
"I've been wanting to do that for so long."
Fiona's stomach flipped and a cascade of butterflies filled her. Her soft smile burst into a delirious grin. The impossible had actually happened. It was real life. Imogen liked her. Really liked her. Liked liked her.
Flicking the blanket over her head Fiona squealed as quietly as she could. If only Holly J weren't sleeping upstairs in her mother's room – Fiona would be running around the house with her pants on her head squealing like a ridiculous fangirl!
Fiona pulled her cellphone from her pyjama pocket and stared at it. It was far too late to call… right? Surely it was far too late to call. Well, what about a text? She bit her lip.