puckandpie | a christmas dinner [dated 12/23/2015]

I'm not sure whether or not this really counts as a romantic dinner. Considering the fact that my stomach is all tied up in knots for entirely the wrong reasons, I'd say it isn't, but it's still a dinner for two and I even made a centerpiece out of a little mini-wreath and a big red candle. Dinner itself is a simple fettuccine alfredo with garlic bread, a ceasar salad, and some homemade eggnog. And pie, of course. Sour cherry. I can only hope it goes over as well as the scones.

His presents -- a jar of sour cherry jam, an electric fan for his bedroom, a four-month skating pass to DIA, and a cookbook of easy recipes -- are all individually wrapped and sitting on the counter. The wrapping paper for the fan is a little scratched up thanks to Elvis deciding the ribbon was a toy, but I'm hoping he either won't notice or mind too much.

I'm just putting Elvis into his little playpen (I've discovered it is absolutely impossible to eat while he's out and shutting him away in my bedroom just breaks my heart so playpen it is) when the doorbell rings.

"Okay," I tell Elvis as he meows up at me. "You be a good boy, y'hear?"

Pulling in a breath and smoothing out the front of my button-up, I open the door, smiling immediately when I see Simon. And ignoring the sharp pang in my chest that knows this smile isn't going to last.

I'm not doing anything today though. Not right before Christmas.

"Hi!" I say instead, holding open the door for him. "You're right on time!"

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It's the choice I should make. I've been worried about putting him in danger, and I have, over mistletoe. I shouldn't be with anyone, not until I manage to get this chosen one's mantle off my chest. It's just...a lot nicer, knowing there's someone who cares about you. Especially when you're never sure how much time you have.

The way he talks, it seems Bitty will still care, even if he won't want to kiss me anymore. "'Course," I say, squeezing his hand. I hate that he feels messed up. I hate that he seems so unhappy. "Is it the things you went through before me?" I ask, knowing that he still searches the shadows for things that aren't there. "With those things attacking you and Derek?"

My eyes widen, and I remember how much he used to speak of him. "Or is it Derek?"

Goodness, he's being so nice, even after all this. I feel stupid suddenly for worrying so much; I should've known he'd be understanding. It's not like I'm breaking his heart or anything.

And then he says Derek's name and I can actually feel the blood drain from my face. God, I'm so obvious.

I let go of him to hide my face in my hands, my elbows resting on the table as I crumple forward. I want to cry. But I won't. Not here. Not right now. Instead I scrub my hands against my cheeks before meeting Simon's eyes again. "I'm so sorry. I thought... It's not. He doesn't see me that way, he probably won't ever see me that way even if sometimes I get these foolish notions that he just might and I swear I didn't think I was seeing you just get over him, but I think... I think maybe I did and didn't realize it. And you don't deserve that, Simon. You don't deserve anything but the very best. I mean, look at you! Look how nice you're being!"

"You're easy to be nice to, Bitty," I tell him, and there's a lump in my throat as I realise that it's really over, but my lonely heart hurts for more than me. His cheeks are so pink, and I give in to the urge to give him a hug, though it's a careful one due to the stitches in my side.

"I know you wouldn't do anything cruel on purpose," I say when I pull back. "That's why I've always liked you so much." I smile at him, and I'm sad, but I mean it when I say, "Really kind people like you don't come along that often."

Simon wraps his arms around me in a warm hug and I suddenly don't know if I'm doing the right thing after all. How is it he's the one comforting me right now? Why can't my stupid heart be so tied up over someone I won't ever have when there's this perfectly kind, wonderful, amazing, and cute boy right here?

He looks so sad when he pulls back and, again, I know I shouldn't, but I reach up to cup his face, brushing my thumb across his cheek. "You're the kind one," I tell him. My lips tug into a smile then despite the continual ache in my chest. "I'm pretty happy that you were my first real kiss."

I laugh, and it loosens my chest enough that I can nod and meet his eyes. "Me, too," I say, because it's rather nice to be his first if I can't be more. "And I'm glad you taught me to skate. I'm glad you wanted to go out at all."

Agatha had been a blessing, but I'm starting to realise just how much she was a shield, too. The way the other students at Watford had looked at me as the years went on, if she hadn't had me, it's possible no one would have. "It's been really nice just to be a boy, and not the Chosen One."

Something in his laugh helps me breathe again and my smile immediately feels more genuine as I drop my hand to rest it over his again, squeezing lightly.

"Well, if it helps, even if we aren't dating anymore or only sort of dating, you're always gonna be Simon Snow, the cute boy who liked me enough to kiss me once. And hopefully... hopefully the cute boy who kissed me once and still wants to be my friend."

"Of course I do," I tell him, finding humor from somewhere, "Where else am I going to find sour cherry jam in Darrow?" I let myself reach up and brush my fingers through his hair, arranging it rather pointlessly, but I want a last proper touch. "I can't believe I only kissed you once. It's no wonder you're ending things," I say with a faint grin.

He reaches up to touch my hair and it's such a simple gesture, but it makes my chest clench all over again. This boy, this sweet, kind, cute boy is touching me so casually and I'm dumb enough to let him go.

"It's really not you," I tell him even though I know he's teasing and even though I know it's the most cliched line in the world. But it's true and he needs to know. Slowly, I lean in toward him, my gaze dropping to his lips briefly as I smile. "But I really wouldn't mind one less kiss. If that's okay?"

a christmas dinner [dated 12/23/2015]

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