A/N: Is anybody out there? Can anybody hear me? Is anyone still even reading roxiri?
Chapter 1: a leap of faith.
x.x.x
I was panicking.
Correction: I had been panicking, for all of yesterday afternoon, until it bled through the prospect of the new morning like a soaked band-aid over a healing cut.
I'd been cornered. Entirely burdened by an unexpected shock that twisted in my gut, the more I thought about it. And god, it hadn't stopped.
I carried the same weight with me, deep in my back pocket, as I tucked my uniform shirt in my jeans, and hurried to clock in for my shift.
I greeted the security guard, as I flashed my ID. An embarrassing photo that was taken nearly a year ago flashed up on his monitor as he verified my identification. I tapped my foot impatiently, and snatched my card back, before continuing my trek through the back lot of Destiny Islands Theme Park.
It was then that I saw the back of a familiar head.
"Xion!" I called out to my friend, breaking into a clumsy run, and nearly crashing into her when I caught up.
"Whoa, what's up? Did you get that extra shot in your coffee? I thought we said no to Starbucks runs during the week," Xion reprimanded.
I bent over panting, trying to catch my breath, before turning to look up at her. She had her hands on her hips and was staring down at me with a raised brow. I had never in my life been more relieved to see that expression on my best friend's face, even in the stupid, gaudy striped CornDog Hut uniform.
"There's something I need to tell you," I said urgently.
"Oh my god, are you pregnant?"
"What? No!"
"Hm, that's right, you haven't gotten laid in over a year."
"Xion!"
"Alright, alright I'm listening," she laughed.
I opened my mouth but the words were failing me. Xion turned to look at me, and suddenly the humor in her eyes was gone.
"Okay, you're freaking me out. Hold on." She dug through her pocket, pulling out a pair of keys. She then gestured for me to follow. I did, a bundle of stress and nerves and probably gas. We reached our CornDog Hut, and she quickly unlocked the back door, letting me slip in first.
I headed for the light switch, knowing the floor plan of the hut like the back of my hand. And immediately, as the light began to flood the building, I was bombarded with the events that had happened yesterday.
He had been standing right there, next to the corn dog size display, as he handed the paper that was currently sitting snugly in my back pocket. Solemn faced, but hand firmly outstretched.
Why did I take it? Why didn't I just run like I wanted to? Why am I such a fucking idio –
"What is it, Kairi?" Xion asked seriously.
I held my breath, pulling out the small square from my pocket, and shakily handing it to her. Xion's dark eyebrows pulled together, as her eyes flickered from the paper to me uncertainly. She took it.
"Roxas gave it to me."
I watched as she unfolded, eyes scouring the page. She sighed.
"I should've known better with your dramatic ass, dragging me in here and acting as if you've contracted some incurable disease."
"What do you think?" I asked, despite her scoff.
She scrutinized the paper once more, before handing it back to me.
"I'm pretty sure this means a date, Kairi."
I let out a loud, strangled groan.
"Wow, a guy wants to go on a date with you, it's not the end of the world, K," Xion muttered flatly. I tried to follow the folds of the square, but gave up and simply stuffed it in the back pocket of my jeans. "Meanwhile I can't even get a guy to look twice my way in this stupid uniform."
"You don't get it. It's Roxas."
"So? He's cute."
She was being generous with that adjective. Very generous. I would've leaned more towards awkward and scruffy and gangly, like a Twizzler. But blonde, and not as sweet.
"To you," I snapped severely. "Do you remember the first thing he said to us when we met him?"
Xion seemed to think about this for a moment before bursting out into laughter. "He asked if we were from India."
"I'm pretty sure that's crazy offensive. No I'm positive it is," I fumed.
And it was just the tip of the iceberg to describe Roxas. How could one even begin to describe Roxas?
He was – well – unconventional to put it mildly. Meeting him was an encounter I knew I would never forget. He had just moved from the overnight shift, invading our little crew in the morning. When his official start date began, a part of me knew things were desperately about to change.
I was already recovering from the absence of one of my favorite coworkers, Selphie, leaving and now, Xion, on her way. The workload was suddenly about to be incredibly lopsided. And now with the end of the year holidays looming several weeks away, I had anticipated a spike in daily duties.
Roxas just seemed like an unfortunate detriment. His very first day on our shift, he neglected his uniform, instead opting for a shirt with the mouth gaping open Patrick Star meme screen printed across his chest. I would have found the damn thing funny had it suddenly been the year 2013 again…and had I been a fucking idiot.
His language was foul, something that normally wouldn't bother me, considering I could occasionally let a few profanities slip through. But he had absolutely no qualms directing them at customers or our Lead Manager, Pence. He consistently refused to wear his name tag, much to our Lead's annoyance. He claimed that he didn't want people to know his identity, because the government was out to get him…or something.
To be honest, I wasn't sure how he still had a job here. Probably grandfathered into the system from so many years being at this dump. I didn't dare ask. I hardly ever spoke to him, which made this whole thing even more confusing.
I brought a hand to rub my forehead. A headache was beginning to form from this conversation.
"Did you text him?" Xion asked.
"What? Of course not," I exclaimed. "That's a door I definitely don't want to open."
"Hmm, because it's Roxas or…." Xion trailed off pointedly.
"Or what?" I asked sharply.
Xion watched me carefully, like I was this dainty, fragile little animal that needed to be spoken to with a your inside voice lest you scare it away. I wanted to be angry for being treated this way, but I knew that was irrational. She knew the ins and outs of my thoughts and feelings. She knew me when I used to feel like myself. She was with me through college, living in that insufferably cramped dorm room, as we survived off of microwavable ramen.
Even after school, she had reluctantly followed me as I stumbled through my post grad depression in search for a summer job, just for us both to wind up at the local amusement park. An English Lit degree and four years later, just to serve up corn dogs for incredibly rude and overindulgent park guests.
I felt I owed it to her to not be such a bitch sometimes.
"I saw that they made it official," she said quietly.
But it was harder to resist the urge to make a snarky comment, the more she spoke. A large lump formed in my throat at the implication of her statement.
"So?"
"Kairi," Xion said. The tone was back. She sounded like my mother. An annoying trait that they both shared was their unfailing ability to force me into things that were good for me. Or so they thought. It didn't really matter in the end; I trusted their sense of judgment, considering they were my best friends.
My only friends. Two whole friends, one of which was my own mother. My twenty's had never looked so pathetically lonely.
It wasn't always like this. My group of friends used to bigger. But things slowly started to fall apart. The thought was making me incredibly sad.
"You should text him back. Who knows? It could be fun. It doesn't have to mean anything. It could just be a casual thing."
And I was back to being offended.
Could be fun? Doesn't have to mean anything? Who did she think I was? Someone capable of just a simple hookup? Didn't she know me? I was the girl who would hopelessly pine after a stranger she barely made eye contact with in the produce section at the supermarket, and flushed at the feeblest accidental hand contact. Made playlists and imagined living in a goddamn music video. Gushed about the newest crushes in their diaries. That girl.
Or, at least I used to be.
Still…not much has changed.
But before I could say anything, the door opened. For one horrifying second I thought it would be the damn devil himself to come bursting through the door. A small relieved sigh escaped my lips when I noticed that it was just Hayner, another coworker in the crew.
He grinned brightly when he saw us. Closing the door behind him, he joined us and I could smell the hair product coming closer. I glanced up, and sure enough, it was overly gelled and stiff. It was his trademark look. A look that hadn't been popular since Sugar Ray was a thing.
"Are we talking about Roxas asking you out?" He probed.
I choked as Xion giggled.
"How did you…?"
"I saw him give you something yesterday before clocking out. And, well, Roxas never gives anyone anything, so I just assumed," Hayner said with a shrug.
I felt for the note in my back pocket again.
The paper was an immeasurable load in my hands as I glanced down at it. I scanned it once more, and still, the heavy weight in the pit of my stomach was unrelenting.
'I wanna ask you something (605) 475-6968'
x.x.x
I wouldn't have agreed. I convinced myself I was ready to text him just to tell him I wasn't interested. I had even begun composing a really heartfelt text to soften the blow for the rejection. But then I found out it was his fucking birthday, and, well, of course I couldn't say no.
How could you say no to someone on their damn birthday?
And that was how I found myself sitting in the middle of traffic on the main interstate on a Monday night, in the pouring rain.
This was a bad idea. A bad, bad, bad idea.
I could practically hear a mixture of Xion and my mom's voices in my head opposing these pessimistic thoughts.
Well, what did they know, really?
I could already feel the stress sweat building beneath the chunky knit pullover I decided to wear. It exacerbated the perfume, filling up the confines of the car until a headache was beginning to form. My eyes kept glancing towards the clock on the center console screen.
7:45 pm.
I wasn't even close to the chosen meet up place. A movie theater. We were going to watch a movie. I was eternally grateful he hadn't expected me to go out to dinner with him.
A movie was fine, it was safe. A movie could totally be platonic.
A date could just be platonic, right?
My stomach clenched uncertainly at that thought.
It wouldn't really be called a date then, dumb ass.
I was wrapped up in doubt with my decision. Perhaps if I had made it clear the moment we met up what my intentions were, things wouldn't feel so – shitty? I had no interest in dating him. I had no interest in dating anyone. The idea of relationships and love was all good and dandy until one was abandoned to experience it firsthand – the cruel consequences it left behind in its ruthless wake.
Something I wasn't ready to explore. No. Not again.
I was a single pringle ready to not mingle. And I was perfectly content.
Now, how to articulate that without sounding like a pretentious asshole?
How did I possibly begin to explain to Roxas that the reason I decided to go on this date was because I felt bad for saying no? That it was his birthday and I didn't want his 24th to be tarnished by my awful rejection? That it was a date spawned from my overly sympathetic nature? Basically a pity date?
Still sounding like a pretentious asshole.
I let out a whiny groan, two seconds away from banging my head against the steering wheel.
The traffic was crawling at a snail's pace. I knew I would be losing time the moment I left the house a half hour later than what I intended. I cursed my lack of punctuality. An unfortunate trait I picked up from my father.
I sighed loudly through my nose, drumming my fingers against the steering wheel. My eyes kept going in and out of focus on the car's brake lights ahead of me the more it stopped. The traffic wasn't letting up. To make matters worse it had started to rain even harder.
I heard my phone vibrate on the seat beside me. And with clumsy multitasking, I pawed for it trying to keep my eyes on the motionless traffic.
I glanced hurriedly down at the text, feeling my chest thump at the name. It was him.
Roxas: still coming?
And in the midst of my internal debate, I felt a twinge of sadness as I read the text. So he doubted me too?
It really wasn't that much of a secret that Roxas wasn't well liked at the CornDog Hut amongst the other employees, especially management. I was sure there was a deeper reason behind his sudden move from night to day shift. People gave him a wide berth, as if his stupidity was contagious. No, no he wasn't stupid. It was just a small case of asshole. And I could understand that. There was a kind of insolence that he clung to that I almost admired.
You know, if I wasn't such a good-doer.
But regardless, being the ousted employee must be lonely.
I struggled to type out my response.
So much traffic.
Roxas: Ha bet.
He sent a gif of a laughing Pikachu. Another thing I could respect about him. His gif game was strong.
It didn't take very long until I was taking the next exit towards my destination. A galleria. Great. I had nothing against these kinds of shopping centers, but the moment they require paid parking is when I already think it becomes too – well –fancy.
I looked down inside my pathetic wallet with a sigh, before taking the fresh twenty I had just pulled out of the ATM earlier. Originally intended for gas this week, but I reluctantly accepted the loss with the parking lot ticket stub.
I sent a quick text letting him know I was here. The nerves hit me as I briskly walked through the parking lot. I picked up immediately on the fact that there were several couples. Not that that should have been so out of the ordinary.
Maybe I was just hyperaware of it now that I was on a date.
God even saying that in my head was too much.
I felt the heat on my cheeks. I hoped the people around me couldn't see how red I was probably getting. Thank god it was cold, I thought, as I stepped out of the parking lot entryway and into the main courtyard.
I stopped in my tracks the moment I glanced up. It was like some sort of Winter Wonderland.
(Which, I mean, like duh, considering it was just a few weeks away from Christmas).
The storefronts that enclosed the courtyard were bordered with garland and dangling snowflakes. String lights hung across the circular field, creating a soft halo across the numerous people beneath them. A large artificial Douglass Fir was placed in the middle, decorated in tinsel and large golden ornaments. Lights also shimmered down along the green body, giving the overall fake tree an incandescent sparkle that could probably be seen from miles away.
Although the weather could probably leave much to be desired, the unexpected rain only seemed to complement the winter vibes. I mean, I almost quite literally slipped on the wet cobbled pavement in the middle of my glazed wonder, but it didn't lessen my appreciation for the aesthetic.
Okay fine, maybe I was a little impressed with the chosen venue. And maybe I was beginning to forget about the absence of my twenty and the rain that had shifted into a light drizzle. And maybe, just maybe, the nerves about arriving late for my date were starting to fade.
My date.
Ugh, there it was again.
It was as if I had put that thought away, and finally began to associate the words Roxas and date together again in the same sentence.
I felt something sour in my stomach.
I saw him then. I was grateful I spotted him first, because it gave me a chance to flatten my hair a bit from the frizziness. He looked nice. I mean, not that he ever really looked bad. Because he didn't. It was just a different experience seeing someone outside of the monotonous confines of work. Plus, the uniform wasn't really flattering on anyone, if I was being honest.
(Neither was the Patrick Star t-shirt).
He was in a pair of dark wash jeans, and a black sweater that made his shoulders look sharp. His honey blonde hair poked out from under the hood, catching the light drizzle that fell down on all of us. He adjusted the hood, before moving to bring his gloved hands to his mouth to keep warm. Fingerless gloves, huh. That was an interesting fashion choice.
The more I stared at him, the more I felt like he really did belong in this scene, blending in absurdly well. This Winter Wonderland I had painted in my head.
He looked like the hopeless romantic that spent the entire day on the icy streets of a big city searching for his long lost love. Probably some kind of tortured artist that fell in love with his muse. I could see it in the way that he moved, with large strides. In the way he carried himself, with a slight hunch that didn't show off the extension of his true height. Like he was trying to shrink away from all of the lovely couples around him.
I didn't want to interrupt it. I wanted to keep it, frozen in time. I was more than happy just looking in on the scene, several feet away… that is until he finally spotted me.
He didn't break out into a wide grin. Not that I expected it. I didn't think that was really his style. He simply waved, before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking towards me.
"I made it," I said. "Sorry for being so late. Did we miss the movie?"
God, even up close he gave off more of that winter aesthetic. Pale skin. Electric blue eyes, gleaming with a soft glow from the Christmas lights.
Said eyes had given me a once over through the wet blond fringe. I tried not to flush under the attention. I hadn't felt this unwavering gaze since the moment he handed me his number.
And then I realized quite suddenly the more the silence went on, I had to spend time with Roxas – alone. What would we even talk about?
"Nah, we're good," he finally said.
I felt a small wave of disappointment when he looked way. What was I expecting? A compliment?
It wasn't like I spent three and a half hours fretting over my hair and make-up.
We stood there awkwardly, until he turned on his heel. Okay, was I just expected to follow him? He looked back expectantly. Oh, apparently I was.
I glanced down at the hand that was stuffed in his pocket. Did I want him to hold my hand? Or was this pressure in my chest just relief that I wasn't expected to hold his?
I was mystified by own thoughts the more we walked around the courtyard.
"My dad has this car." His voice broke through my reverie.
"Hm?"
"That one," he said, nodding towards the window before us. I looked up and saw a shiny bright red car displayed under bright obnoxious LED lights. It sparkled at us through the window, almost teasingly.
"A Tesla?" I questioned, annoyance dripping from my voice the moment I caught sight of the brand name. Now I really knew I was in some upscale neighborhood.
"Same color and everything."
Gross, I wanted to say. But the idea of insulting his father on our first date seemed like a terrible idea.
Our first date. More like the only date.
"An ostentatious bastard," Roxas muttered.
"You don't get along with him?" I asked tentatively.
"He's literal cancer," he stated plainly.
I flinched. There it was again. That offensive, offbeat humor that I wasn't sure whether to laugh at or offer an educational reprimand. I had just expected people to know better. Act accordingly, especially with people you hardly knew. But he didn't seem to care.
I could almost admire that individualism.
I swallowed thickly, trying not to show how perturbed I was.
"So is he also a cancer, too?"
"What?"
"Astrology."
"Oh, well I don't remember when his birthday is."
Okay, so it clearly was a really bad relationship.
I was hoping for a subject change. Anything to lighten the mood that was seemingly heading off towards the deep end. But he had other ideas.
"What about you? Do you like your parents?"
Our walk had come to a close near the tree. I glanced up at the nearest ornament, catching my reflection against the golden, glass body. I was prettier than what I normally looked like, due to all of the makeup I'd applied. My hair was losing its sleek texture from the hour I spent flat ironing it. But it still cradled my face in a way that was flattering.
Roxas was hovering behind me. He was way taller, so his head was distorted on the curve of the ball. But I tried to picture it. It was kind of surreal. It was actually happening. I was in the middle of a date.
"Yeah," I finally said. "My mom is my best friend."
He let out a low, airy whistle. I turned to him in surprise.
"Is that weird?"
He shakes his head. "Nah."
But his silence was deafening. I felt like I was obligated to explain my apparent mediocre answer. Compelled, even more so, by his tight lipped smirk. I wasn't expecting this kind of reaction. Sora hadn't reacted this way when I explained the relationship I had with my mom. In fact, he found it endearing.
But Sora isn't here, you moron.
"I tell my mom everything," I continued hotly, and I almost cringed at how childish it sounded the moment it came out. "We tell each other everything."
"Surely not everything?"
"Everything," I snapped.
He seemed to mull this answer over for a moment. "I wish I had that kind of relationship with my parents."
I didn't know what to say. Again, I didn't expect him to react that way. The more he kept reacting the more lost I felt trying to keep up with this conversation. As we stood in silence, watching the tree before us, I realized this was about the longest conversation we'd ever had. Not that we ever really had the chance to talk during work, but I knew for a fact that I had spoken to nearly all of my other coworkers more than I'd talked to him.
We made our way back around the courtyard. He was walking faster, a few paces ahead of me, which kind of annoyed me. Weren't we on a date? Weren't dates supposed to walk together? I mean I knew he probably had two feet ahead of me in terms of height so his strides were naturally larger, but come on. The slick pavement and the heeled boots I decided to wear made me even slower.
When I realized we were walking in the direction of the movie theater, my irritation began to melt. Maybe the sudden urgency was making the show time? I didn't know. But he surprisingly held the door open for me.
He ordered the tickets, and before he could pull out his wallet, I offered the cashier my card. It was another bite to my already low funds, but I had already come into this knowing I would probably spend a lot of money. Simply because of –
"It's a birthday present," I said quickly. His eyes widened and mouth fell open in a small 'o'. Wasn't expecting that, huh asshole? But what I wasn't expecting was the small flush that graced his pale cheeks.
Oh. Oh no.
I nearly ripped the card out of the cashier's hand when she gave it back with our tickets.
"How did you know?"
I felt unbearably hot beneath the bright theater lights and his blue gaze. I tried to reflect the easy nonchalance he frequently adopted, but it was becoming increasingly difficult the more he stared at me.
"They mentioned it at work," I said with a shrug.
His face grew solemn.
"You didn't have to do that."
I knew I didn't. But I wanted to. And I didn't know how to articulate that without it coming off as romantic. It wasn't like that. I would have done it for anybody. I wasn't some heartless person that denied people common courtesy, even if it was fleeting. Even if I felt they didn't deserve it.
But I was on a date. And I knew whatever platonic and/or romantic boundaries I wanted to set were already beginning to blur.
This is your own damn fault Kairi.
"It's whatever." I waved him off dismissively.
He seemed to have accepted that answer.
We waited on the benches outside the theater room until it started. I was so wrapped up in my own head I wasn't paying attention to what we were even going to watch. An animated film. Something based off a comic book hero.
It irritated me how much I looked forward to watching the movie.
It was almost as if he had strategically crafted this entire thing. Like it was his evil plan to seduce me with the prospect of my niche interests, coaxing a yes out of me with his birthday lingering over our heads. How he knew I had an affinity for animation was beyond me? I wasn't sure I ever gave any kind of inclination at work?
I wracked through my brain trying to think of something I had said out loud this week. To be honest, I wouldn't have put it past me to make some kind of personal remark in the midst of my boredom.
Okay, so maybe this one was my fault.
I huffed in my seat, stuffing my ticket stub in my pocket. He slouched in his seat, slinking further down the cushion of the bench. I watched as the back of his blonde hair got rumpled from leaning against the wall. It was minuscule – this urge to flatten it down the back of his head. I curled my hand into a fist in my pocket.
People walked by us, families, singles, even other fellow couples. Some regarded us with a friendly smile when our eyes met. I couldn't help but feel incredibly vulnerable beneath their occasional gazes. I couldn't help but feel Roxas and I looked so entirely unconventional and out of place sitting beside each other.
I tried to picture it from the outside. I was sitting primly, one leg folded over the other, while Roxas was slumped beside me. It filled me with a sense of dread at the stark contrast.
But perhaps my anxiety was really rooted in the possibility that there wasn't anything unconventional about the sight at all.
I glanced over at him, to find him looking straight ahead. In other words, away from me. Irritation flickered in my chest.
If you plan to take a girl out the least you can do is look at her.
I shifted in my seat, hoping he'd get the hint that I was riddled with obvious discomfort, but when he made no acknowledgment, I felt something inside me wilt. I tried to spend the next few minutes on my phone, but it didn't help. This was so stupid.
I wasn't sure why I was so hell bent on trying to get his attention. I should've savored this alone time with my thoughts and not be forced to converse with someone I didn't even really want to be with.
But the more I stared, the more I wanted it. I chalked it up as my nerves. My annoying habit of trying fill up the conversation with mindless babble to cover for the fact that I was uncomfortable.
I cleared my throat, before letting out a short fake laugh. It caught his attention.
"I think the Jersey Shore is making a comeback…for the millionth time," I said, holding up my phone and showing him the post I had been looking at. His eyes scanned the screen, before he chuckled. It was like my heart let out a huge relieved sigh at the sound.
"Like we need any more trash TV."
"Hey! I loved that show."
"No you didn't," he said in disbelief.
"Yeah! It was a classic," I argued.
He shook his head, an incredulous smile painted across his lips. A wave of satisfaction hit me. I recognized this kind of interaction like the back of my hand. I knew this playful banter. I could work with this.
I would say something in defiance, and he'd quip back with something that would ultimately not be that funny. But I would laugh anyway. Because boys loved when you laughed at their lame jokes. I would laugh at whatever Sora used to say. I mean, he was funny, in his own way. The majority of the time I think I would laugh at him, rather than with him. But it was one thing I had missed the most.
I felt my own smile falter at the thought.
"You know," Roxas' voice reeled me back in. "I think Hayner looks like Pauly D."
"What?"
"Think about," he said, smirking. He brought a hand up to his head, gently pulling at one of the stray locks of blonde. "The hair is as stiff as board."
I blinked. And suddenly I was bombarded with images of Hayner with a horrible fake tan, chapstick, and a deep Jersey accent yelling about cabs and grenades. I burst out in a round of loud, obnoxious laughter, alerting several people around us. I brought a hand to my mouth, to stifle the second round of giggles that were threatening to escape. But it was almost unrelenting.
I felt myself grow warm – and Jesus – this was beginning to get embarrassing. Roxas looked on with mirth, categorizing the different shades my face could turn, I was sure.
I wiped at my eyes, finally feeling the laughter taper off.
I was out of my element here.
"You good?" He teased.
"Shut up."
We sat in silence again, a comfortable one that surprised myself. I was usually the one preening in my seat to continue the conversation, despite how meaningless. But he was the one to continue.
"You like cartoons right?"
I pursed my lips, trying to fight the smile.
"You sound like a divorced husband trying to relate to his estranged twelve year old daughter," I responded sardonically.
He did a double take, before laughing. It was more like a hushed snicker. Like he was trying to hold back what I had unsuccessfully done. I felt myself swell with pride.
"That was weirdly specific."
My smile slowly faded. I leaned back in my seat, and uncrossed my legs.
"My mom is my best friend," I reminded.
His nodded gravely. He didn't offer anything else in response, but it wasn't necessary. The understanding that flashed through his blue eyes was enough of a sympathetic gesture, I almost cried. I, Kairi Lockhart, almost cried in my goddamn movie theater. And not from watching the 50th anniversary of Titanic.
As if noticing my sinking mood, Roxas quickly changed the subject.
"I used to draw," he said, holding up his hand. "I mean I still do, but I developed carpal tunnel so… kind of sucks."
I stared as he held it before me. They were large hands. I hadn't noticed when he was wearing the gloves earlier. He had long, pale fingers that seemed to stretch on. I was transfixed watching as he flexed them. They had looked soft, as if he moisturized. I didn't know why I was so hung up on that idea.
Maybe the thought of a guy moisturizing was attractive to me. God knows the gender was certainly lacking with certain grooming habits.
I glanced down at my own hands. They were small and stubby, looking more like hands that belonged on a newborn baby. Even curled up in fists, the knuckles barely popped out from beneath the skin. But his were defined, sharp, as if freshly sketched out on a blank sheet of paper. Proper adult hands.
And there it was again. Another urge. Another pull to reach out.
But I kept my hands to myself.
"So is that why we're watching a cartoon?" I asked.
"Yeah." He smiled sheepishly. Against my better judgment, I found it endearing.
The movie was about to begin, so we moved to our seats.
I tried to pay attention to what I was watching. But I was distracted. My head was running about a mile a minute.
What am I doing here? Is he going to try to pull something during the movie? What about after?
The very firm boundaries that I had vowed to myself were slowly starting to disintegrate the more I sat beside him. I was actually beginning to toy with the idea of this date. To entertain these illusions as if – as if I wanted something to happen.
The movie was over before I could comprehend past the opening credits. He hadn't tried to do anything during, probably too focused on the film. Something I probably should have been doing, considering I would be into this sort of thing. Now I was assed out of a movie and forced to deal with the residual effects of an unwanted date as we walked back towards the parking lot.
"Oh, um, I'm on the 5th floor," I muttered, gesturing towards the escalators.
"I'll walk you."
He was walking beside me now, matching my slow pace. Anxiety flooded my system at the implication of his words. Something was going to go down. Something I wasn't sure I was fully committed on. Thoughts overwhelmed me. Thoughts of him and… me. One thought in particular.
One that, quite frankly, hadn't really passed my mind since –
It was too much, too soon.
I felt sick.
I couldn't go through with this. My legs felt like lead as we walked on. What was I doing? Delaying the inevitable? If worst came to worst I could just say no.
But the little voice inside me said that my 'no's' were pretty much broken. It was virtually impossible for me to use the word no. I mean, look at the direct consequence of my incompetence earlier!
When I saw my car in the distance, my nerves spiked.
"Okay, I'm over there," I exclaimed a little too enthusiastically. I sped forward, hoping this would be it. This would be the moment I would return to the safe confines of my tiny Toyota, and drown out my sorrows with a sugary Ariana Grande song.
But he followed closely behind.
I clicked the car open with the key, offering him a hasty goodbye from over my shoulder. I almost said I'd see him at work, but was cut off when I felt a hand grasp mine.
Christ, it was as soft as I thought it would be. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling his hand slide down the short length of my palm, before coming to enclose the entirety of it.
"Wait," he murmured.
"What?"
I felt a soft tug, and I was stumbling backward, until he gently spun me back around to face him. And then I was overwhelmed by him. His arms, his towering body, his scent, the very clothes I had quietly judged earlier. It was everywhere, overpowering every sense in my body. Every sense of panic that had set off alarms in every nerve endings were slowed, as if being suppressed by some large electric surge. I was gridlocked by this sudden power outage, and I… I was savoring the short-lived darkness.
I inhaled sharply, trying to breathe back common rationality back into this sluggish perception of my current reality. But then –
"I just wanna hold you." It was the velvety words that were uttered near my ear that had been my ultimate downfall. That made the cold shiver slither down my body and made my hands shake against his warm sweater.
And I felt something flutter deep within my chest. It floated in soft waves down to the pit of my stomach, pooling there as if reclaiming its empty place. It was something I hadn't felt in such a long time. Something I thought had died last year, along with all of my youthful idealism and doomed relationships. But I recognized it. This feeling, threatening to push through all of my self-discipline. And with the recognition and fluttering, came the slow building dread as a result.
No.
This was the last place I wanted to be. I didn't want this. Not again.
Please not this again.
A/N: I guess I'm back again...but for real this time? Still not entirely sure. But I've been toying with writing for Roxiri again. You know, getting back to my roots. I was rereading some of my old cringe fest writings and I guess I got inspired. I have to admit I'm still so rusty with this platform, so bear with me. I might just start uploading on AO3 as well. We'll see. As for my other fics, well, I'm working on it. So if you're interested in the old stuff, you may see some new chapter soon. Anyway, as always, reviews are more than welcome.
Also thanks for reading!