Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be
Dedication: To T-Rex, for providing me with entertainment whilst writing this. Even if they are all dead.
Day Twenty Four
One day until the glorious Christmas Day. Full of opening presents and- oh who the fuck am I kidding? All I want is a dirty blonde boy I know. Preferably wrapped up. With a bow. But nothing else. It's what I want, but is it what I'll get?
It's one more day of anticipation for bright presents and hurried messages from family and friends. It's also the last day that the mistletoe will be up and excuses can be made. Why waste such an opportunity. It's up in the air, but today, I'll grab it.
You know what? I spent my childhood demanding things and getting them. I want this. I'm going to take it, despite his wishes. If it's unrequited, I'll blame the Christmas drinks.
If I stand here, by the portrait door, I'm bound to catch him.
If I just go and find him, snog him, he'll snog back. Right?
I'll just wait, won't take too long.
Where is he anyway? I'll have to go and find him if I want to kiss him.
Just wait. Just wait.
Ah, there he is, by the portrait door. If I go over. If I get the courage first.
Here he comes, down the stairs with all the grace of a mangy dog. Which he is, but you know what I mean. He's hesitating, does he want to talk to me? Does he for some reason hate me?
I'll just move, it's easy, I've walked before.
Shall I go over there? Here I go, walking on my jelly like legs.
He's coming here now. What do I do? What do I do? WhatdoId- He's kissing me. It's sweet and slow, gorgeous with a dash of brutality. Guh.
"Happy Twenty Fourth."
"What'll we do on the Twenty Fifth then?"
Well, thanks for reading that. I know I'm horribly late in posting and writing and all that, but how many people are actually reading this? Two? Ah well, enough of my self-deprecation. Thank you to all the reviewers, reader, people who liked this enough to favourite and alert An Advent Of Fluff. And one more thing. Merry Christmas.