Mortiz's POV
As Mimi steps back to Roger, as I whisper words I only wish I could say to her face, as Mark shoots me an all too knowing look, I turn my focus back to the room in its entirety. Maureen is sprawled across the couch, her head in Joanne's lap. Roger and Mimi occupy another sofa, and Angel and Collins are tangled together in the cushions of a chair. Mark and I sit side by side on wooden chairs, brought up from downstairs for the evening's festivities.
Collins pulls out a bottle, which makes its way around the circle. I almost pass it on without taking a sip, but Mimi had already taken a sip. With a quick glance in Mark's direction, I take a gulp, wincing at the burning in my throat I wasn't quite used to yet, and look at the bottle. Stains of lipstick circle the rim, and I can't help but imagine touching a certain pair of lips with my own. But the liquor had also gone through Angel, Maureen and Joanne, and Mimi is nestled close to Roger as if he holds the world.
Soon, people begin to stand, shake out their legs, leaving with a 'Merry Christmas'. Eventually, only Roger and Mimi are left, and as they too stand to go, I walk with Mimi towards the door.
"Thank you, Mortiz, for planning this. I haven't had a Christmas like this since I was a little girl. And this…" she fingers the pendent I had chosen for her, and suddenly a heat is beginning inside me. I look up, bringing her attention to the bundle of leaves above our heads.
"Mistletoe?" she whispers, a question but not.
I nod, blood pooling in my cheeks.
She smiles, stands on her toes and reaches up to kiss my cheek softly.
Electricity sparks at her touch, sending the nerves in my face pricking through the rest of my body. I feel my cheeks on fire. I feel my body on fire, all from one small touch of her lips.
I smile at her as Roger comes up from behind, slinging his arm around Mimi and leading her out the door.
"Happy Holidays!" he calls, and I wave half heartedly, not caring that she's with him, that she will always be with him, because right now I'm over the moon.
I'm warm, from the drink, from Benny's gift of heat, from the sparks still running through me. I collapse onto the couch that was until recently occupied by the most beautiful woman in my world.
I pick up the tape Mark had handed to me that evening. He told me mine wasn't like the ones he gave the others because my time here has been so short, but that I might find the content helpful in New York City.
Mark moves into his bedroom, and with one final 'Ho Ho Ho', shuts his door for the night.
I slid my tape into the player's slot and hit a button.
The film begins with her face, smiling at me with chocolate eyes. I watch in silence.