An very short array of mistletoe happenings in lieu of Christmas celebrations. Some OOC-ness and all modern day, mundane AUs. Huehuehue.
Pointing up, Park grinned. "Looks like we got stuck under the mistletoe. What a shame I have to kiss you now."
Walking past him, Layla scoffed at his lousy attempt. "One, I'm older than you. Two, you look like a typical thirsty guy. And three-"
"Yeah, what's three?"
"I'm way out of your league..." she called back, "And everyone else's."
"No, you don't have to kiss her," Elijah said in annoyance, gracefully falling back on his bed and letting his hair fall in his eyes. He adjusted the cell phone in his hand. "I don't even know why you're asking me this."
"She's asking me to dance. I hate dancing and there's the mistletoe over where she wants to dance."
Abel's frantic voice traveled through the phone speakers, uncharacteristically flustered. Rolling over onto his stomach, Elijah set the phone in front of him, unsure of how to comfort his brother. He had never been very good at comforting people, even family, and with his little brother talking about things that he himself had never had a problem with, he was unsure of how to respond. So he kept quiet for a long while, listening to his brother's harsh breathing before speaking again.
"Just tell her you don't want to kiss her if she tries," he muttered, fed up with the conversation, "Just push her back or something."
"Elijah...I can't be mean to her," Abel answered again, growing more and more perturbed by the minute, "I'm to be married to her in three years, remember? God, I can't be mean. Not like you would be. If we dance under the mistletoe, you know she's gonna want to kiss me. She's like that."
"You're fifteen, Abel. Most boys your age are dying to kiss a girl."
"You didn't!"
"I'm less than desperate. And you're overreacting"
"God, you're not helping. This is serious stuff, Elija-...Oh, she found me...Wish me luck, brother. Farewell cruel world-"
With a click, the phone hang up and Elijah shook his head. He didn't think he had ever been a child ever with those sort of issues but even his brother, who was still even-tempered on a bad day, reminded him that immaturity was a natural thing. Grumbling in annoyance, he pulled the covers over his head. He was lucky, he supposed, that he was never invited to Christmas functions. He wouldn't have wanted to go anyway.
No matter how hard Evande tried, the only kiss that Church would give him was one of death.
"Mistletoe is toxic, you know," Cole stated, staring up at the plant and reaching up to pluck a bright white berry from it. He studied it for a moment before letting it fall to the ground, watching it roll across the carpeted floor until it halted at the base of the bookshelf. "Surely you don't believe anything of the fairy tale nonsense surrounding it."
"It is kind of a fairy tale thing," Steff responded, looking a bit sheepish, her hand still closed around a book, "And a Christmas thing."
"Did you know," he started lazily, his eyes flickering between her, the plant, and the bookshelf, "That mistletoe is a parasite. It uses other plants as its host and can disfigure it and kill it as it leaches off of it since it's such an infectious plant."
"You're just a joy at parties, aren't you?" she sighed, tucking the book back into the shelf, "Maybe you should have decided to major in biology instead."
He looked back at her with a bit of a scoff.
"You know I despise science, Stephanie."
"I was kidding..." Carefully, Steff turned back to the shelf to run her fingers lightly across the books. She had read almost all of the Christmas classics as a child, but one could never reread things enough. Finding new things to discover in the words on pages was a whole lot easier and less intimidating than trying to find new things in the words people spoke. "Since you seem to know so much about something as simple as mistletoe."
"I thought it was general knowledge." His comment turned into a bit of a smug remark and he pulled a book from the shelf, studying the cover. "Have you read this book? It's a classic."
Shyly, she shook her head.
"I'm surprised you haven't. Well, I'd recommend it," he said, extending it towards her, watching her intently, "Read it over the holidays. Let me know what you think."
Waiting a few moments as if it might have been a prank, Steff stared at the book, knowing it was rude if she didn't take it. For a moment, she felt a flicker of distrust for his intentions, never sure if he might laugh at her or draw it away suddenly as if he were baiting a cat. However, he didn't budge. A book suggestion was hardly something to turn down anyway. Then, slowly, she reached out to get it, nearly flinching when he caught her wrist with his free hand, lowering the book by his side.
"It might not be your type of novel," he stated plainly, his gaze shifting over hers before traveling back up to the mistletoe. Amused, he slid his hand from her wrist and under her hand instead to lift it and brush a kiss lightly onto her knuckles.
"That's alright," she stammered, embarrassed, "I like all books."
"I'm sure you do," he answered, turning her hand over to place the book in her grasp, looking pleased, "Even the ones that aren't fairy tales." Drawing away, his eyes glinted. "Maybe you ought to recommend a book to me sometime."
She agreed silently before taking a step back and saying, "Maybe."
Delighted with her response, he turned away and started down the aisle, his stride slow and confident.
"Merry Christmas, Stephanie," he called back, reaching to put his glasses on before disappearing as he left the library, leaving her with the book dangling from her fingers.
"Cadyn. Give me a kiss."
"Go shove a mistletoe up your-"
"That's so rude. I just want a kiss. Just one."
"Connor, no. I'm not going to give you a kiss."
"Then I'll steal one," Connor said decidedly, reaching across his brother's lap to pull one of the chocolate kisses from the bag, "Personally, though, I prefer caramel."
Pulling a bow from his hair, Blake grimaced a little bit, tossing it aside so it landed on the bedspread near him. Sitting back in the chair he was in, he rested is chin on his hand as Rose hurried about the room, rambling on about something to do with updating an in stuh graham...or was it gram? Either way, he wasn't sure what graham crackers or kilograms or grams in general had to do with anything she was talking about. All he knew is that every time he pulled the green and red bow from his hair, she'd scurry over to put it back on him.
"Keep it on," she said excitedly, locating a matching bow and nesting it above her ear, "It'll be adorable. All my followers will want to see."
"It's a girl accessory," he complained, staring at her as she fixed up her makeup, her eyelids sparkling with some sort of gold powder that complimented her eyes, "And I'm not a girl, if you haven't noticed."
"Effeminate boys are all the rage now," Rose argued, wagging her finger at him with a wrinkle of her nose and a smile, "It's super cute. And I need some bait for my followers and you'll bring in lots of likes."
"This idea of exploitation puzzles me."
"Oh, just trust me." Bouncing over to him, she pulled her phone from a pocket in her dress, scooting him over on the chair to sit next to him.
Cluelessly, he watched as she flipped through her apps. Anything related to technology had him baffled. He had only figured out how to work a blender the week before. Opening some sort of camera app, she held up the phone, her smile contagious to the web as her eyes sparkled on the screen.
"Smile!" she ordered and he stared at the phone blankly with a look of disgust at his reflection that was more apparent than he thought, "Oh, if you're not going to smile, then you at least have to look pretty! Or handsome."
"I don't want to be either of those."
With a giggle, she laid her head on his shoulder, striking another happy expression, the phone clicking as she took photos of the two of them.
"Oh, this is cute! Oh, but my eye is a little bit squinted. I like this one-...What are you doing here? I like this one, but does it make my hair look weird. Here, let me straighten out my dress. Wait, this is a cute pose."
"Rose-"
"Blake, just one more."
"I'm sure-"
"Now smile to my Instagram! Three...two...happy holidays!" She grinned again, nodding at the picture that she had finally managed to capture. "Oh! This is a cute one! How should I caption it? Maybe with a smile and a Christmas tree emoji and a hashtag that says 'happy holidays'. It'll be so cute and mysterious and-...hold on." Looking back down at her phone, she started out of the camera app and into another one that look similar, although the app icon had been yellow.
Holding down on the screen, she raised a hand so both of their faces could be seen in the camera and a graphic appeared on the screen. Suddenly, Blake realized that he had frosted antlers and a smudge of brown on his nose and he jerked back, looking startled.
"It's just a filter," Rose said, looking amused as she watched him, bouncing a bit in excitement, "Which filter? It's for my story for my other app. That way, we can be extra, extra cute." Without waiting for an answer, she swiped to check out the other filters, stopping at one where a sparkling mistletoe hung between them.
"No, definitely not that one," he protested, a heart appearing on the screen every time he spoke.
"Don't open your mouth yet or it'll cover the screen in hearts" she scolded, getting into position, her free hand poking at the bow in his hair, "Make a kiss face on three...two...happy holidays! Oh, Blake, you need to at least smile. And a mistletoe means kissing. You have two options: kissing my cheek or kissing in the direction of the camera. Please? I really, just really want the cutest photo."
"I don't see why you're so obsessed with this," he sighed, watching the filter in displeasure as she took more pictures, blowing kisses at the screen, "A mistletoe? That's tacky."
"Either that, or very festive," Rose answered, jumping to her feet and giving a twirl of her dress, "Oh, the pictures are just...just...adorable. You do promise to take pictures of me for my outfit of the day update today, though, right?"
Rolling his eyes, Blake didn't see any other option but to agree.