For Danielle!
WC: 524
Mila had been decorating her apartment for the past hour. She wasn't much for aesthetics, but this time she had been meticulous. Somebody special would be visiting any time now.
The doorbell rang.
"Shit!" Mila scrambled to the mirror and took a glance at her rumpled blouse. She grabbed a comb and probably yanked out half of her hair as she tried to take out the knots. "Coming!"
Hoping she hadn't left her company waiting too long, she slid across her hardware floor and flung open the door.
"Mila!"
Immediately, Mila felt her insides turn to mush. Sara's grin should have been made illegal.
"Are you going to let me in?" Sara teased.
Mila's eyes widened suddenly, and she closed her gaping mouth. "Sorry, got distracted."
She opened the door a little wider and twisted her hands behind her back as Sara took off her snow-covered boots. Sara had come all the way from Italy just to spend Christmas with her. What should Mila say? Thanks for coming? That wouldn't cover it.
"You really went all out with your decorating," Sara said brightly as she looked around.
A montage of frantically applied febreze, vacuuming, and organizing ran through Mila's mind. Yup. "I even cleaned up the place for once," Mila said.
"Your room is down the hall on the right," Mila said and scurried away to the kitchen. She had to get it together and fast. Sara had still been wearing her bulky coat, and Mila's butterflies were already acting up.
What she hadn't mentioned is that she had stuffed mistletoe in every single nook and cranny she could. In the past months, Mila had found herself looking at Sara's lips more than her eyes during their hours-long video chats. She found her fingers tingling as she sent Sara something and waited for that glorious ping of an incoming message. Sometimes Mila would lie in bed and recreate Sara in her mind, from her beautiful long hair to her kind eyes, delicate hands, and...
Even though she scoffed at the myth that mistletoe induced kissing, desperate times called for desperate measures.
A crash and an Italian swear brought Mila out of her thoughts.
She rushed out of the kitchen to find Sara sitting on the ground, next to a fallen CD rack. Mila's heart sank. She had spent hours and hours arranging her CDs by genre.
"I'm-," Sara said helplessly.
"It's okay," Mila said.
She pulled the rack from the floor and crouched near Sara to help. Their fingers brushed, and Mila swore she saw Sara blush. But, then again it could have just been because of the cold air outside.
"What's this?" Sara held up a sprig of mistletoe and cocked an eyebrow playfully, knowing exactly what it was.
Now it was Mila's turn to flush. "Um, nothing. I'll take that."
She made a grab for the mistletoe, but Sara grabbed her hand and pulled her close. Mila's breath caught as she collapsed over Sara's lap and looked up at her half-lidded eyes.
Well, here goes nothing. Mila put an arm around Sara's shoulder and pulled herself up to meet Sara's lips halfway.