About two weeks went by—and they flew by fast, as if we were traveling through the days in an airplane, making what would normally be a fifteen-hour car ride a three-hour trip.

I have had four appointments so far—two a week—and three of those have involved minor surgeries. They were so minor, though, that you could barely classify them as surgeries. It was just little things here and there, preparing me for the big one that hopefully could happen in a few months time.

Christmas was in a few days—it had really snuck up on us this year. I still needed to figure out what to do for Phoebe, and I was hoping that, now that I had a few friends—specifically Mike who I have actually spent a lot of time with over the course of these few weeks—someone would help me out. I couldn’t exactly go shopping by myself. Previous Christmases, people from work always help me out. I was usually only close with the kids I worked with—forming relationships with the innocent, misplaced children was the most important part of my job—but my co-workers were nice enough to take me shopping with them. Well, usually it involved online shopping, but I needed help nonetheless.

“Hey, how do I look?” Phoebe joked, placing a hand on my elbow. I laughed and shook my head.

“My spidey-senses are tingling, telling me that you’re going to be ruining lives tonight with your stunning appearance,” I responded, grinning. Phoebe laughed and squeezed my arm.

“Shut up,” she sighed.

“What are you wearing?” I asked.

“A black, fitted dress with a red, chunky necklace. The top of the dress scoops down like the letter ‘U’ right at my chest, but it’s not too revealing. And I’m wearing my hair down in curls with black heels,” she explained.

“Classy.”

“Right,” she chuckled.

“Where are you guys going?” I asked. Vic was taking Phoebe out for a Christmas date, which I thought was really sweet. They’ve been hanging out a lot lately—probably to compensate for the future crazy schedules. It seemed like they were getting pretty serious already, but Phoebe was just as careful with guys as I was. As long as she was happy, though. Apparently Vic was very intense—Phoebe’s words, not mine—and was really passionate about things. He told her how if he ever had a vision about something, he’d work hard to make it happen—according to Phoebe, Vic said that she was one of those things, next to his musical ambitions. He had been burned really badly in the past in the girlfriend department, which was why he was really excited about being with Phoebe. The whole thing was incredibly adorable (although I technically wasn’t supposed to know about any of it) and I was really happy that a seemingly decent man was finally paying some attention to Phoebe, who really deserved it.

“I’m not sure. He said it’s a nice restaurant, so,” she said. I nodded approvingly.

“Well have fun,” I smiled, pulling her in for a hug. Just as I did, I heard a car horn beep outside.

“Will do,” she said. “Are you going to be okay here alone?”

“Phoebe,” I groaned.

“Right, right,” she chuckled. “Sorry I asked.”

“Get out of here, woman,” I urged, smiling. “Tell Vic I said hello and be safe, okay?”

“Yes, mom. Don’t wait up for me though, if I don’t come back—”

“Phoebe, I’m telling you straight up if you cut your time with Vic short to be here in time for me to go to sleep, I’ll kill you. Don’t worry about me, have fun with him, and I won’t be concerned if you don’t come home tonight. I understand. Now skedaddle, he’s waiting for you!” I urged again, nudging her back. Phoebe laughed and patted my hand.

“Bye, Faye, love you!” she called.

“Love you too,” I shook my head.

“Oh, Faye, someone’s here for you!” Phoebe chimed. I furrowed my eyebrows but the door slammed shut before I could ask her who she was talking about. I should have known, though, because as I took the appropriate amount of steps in the direction of the door, the all too familiar smell of cigarettes, mint, and cologne filled my nose.

“Hey stranger,” I grinned at Mike.

“What the fuck, how’d you know it was me?” he asked, sounding taken aback. I laughed.

“This sounds creepy to say out loud, but I recognized your smell.”

“That’s really fucking creepy,” he laughed. “But also adorable,” he ruffled my hair.

“I’m not a dog.”

He just simply laughed again. “So what are you doing here, Mike?” I asked, leaning against the wall.

“It sounds like you don’t want me here,” he mocked, and I just rolled my eyes. “I wanted to bring you something,” he added. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Bring me something?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Yes, it’s Christmas, silly. May I come in?” he asked. I raised my eyebrows but nodded, taking his arm. He led me further inside my house until we were both sitting comfortably on the couch. I was sitting on the end of the couch by the armrest, with Mike close next to me. He picked my legs up and tossed them across his lap, turning me so my back was against the armrest and my legs were bent across him. He tapped on my knees, as if he was playing the drums on them. I sat silently, waiting for him to say something. “Here,” he said softly, grabbing my hands and placing something slender between them. “I didn’t wrap it because… well that would be stupid,” he laughed, and I smiled. I felt around the object and noticed he had stuck some sort of bow on top of it—I knew what it was because I’ve felt them before.

“You’re so cute,” I mused, taking off the bow and slapping it on the top of his head.

“So, do you know what it is?” he asked. I shook my head and continued to investigate the small object in between my fingers. It was thin, and it was basically a rectangle. I brushed my thumb across its surface several times, and I traced the edges, feeling a few bumps along the way.

“Oh,” I said when I realized what it was. I didn’t want to say, though, just in case I was wrong. “What is it?”

“I know you know what it is, Faye,” he chuckled. I frowned and toyed it around in my hands again. I definitely knew what it was.

“Is it a… uh,” I bit my lip. I could almost see Mike smirking at me. “Is it an iPod?” I tried.

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” he sang. I blushed and smiled, looking down.

“Aw, Mike, you got me an iPod?” I asked softly.

“Yes, ma’am. It’s just an iPod nano, one of the early generations. But I loaded all of my favorite songs onto it,” he explained. My head shot up and I grinned wildly at where Mike’s head was supposed to be.

“Aw, Mike,” I repeated. “Thank you so much, this is really sweet of you,” I said, leaning into him and giving him a quick hug.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said.

“I really do. This is the best present ever! I’m so excited to listen to it,” I smiled. It was a weird feeling, but I felt, nonetheless, that Mike giving me a playlist of his favorite songs was like him sharing a piece of himself with me. I always believed that the music people held close to them always meant something, like something about the songs were important.

“Yay, ten points for Gryffindor!” Mike cheered. I laughed and poked his side. “Now that I’ve caught you in a good mood…” he began, but he paused as if waiting to hear me chuckle at his words—which I did. “I was wondering, Faye, if maybe you wanted to do something with me tomorrow afternoon?” he asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” he teased. I rolled my eyes and smiled.

“What is this something you speak of?”

“I wanted to take you somewhere. But I can’t tell you now otherwise it would ruin the surprise,” he said.

“Oh, you mean we’re actually going to go and do something for once?” I joked. Every time we spent time together, it was at either his or my house, and it was also usually during a Phoebe-Vic date. This was the first time he was asking me out to go somewhere since that night he requested to “see me again”—this was the first time he was sort of making an advance since he had asked to kiss me.

“Yes, I’ve finally grown the balls to ask you out, Faye,” he grumbled. I raised an eyebrow at him; my heart fluttered in my chest.

“Oh, well I would love to,” I said quickly. Mike chuckled and patted my knee. “Wait,” I groaned. “What time?”

“I was thinking about two o’clock,” he said.

I sighed and sunk back against the couch. “I can’t tomorrow,” I rubbed my face with my hand. “I have a, uh… a doctor’s appointment. But we can go another time, I promise.”

“Oh, for your eye thingy?” Mike asked. I laughed at his choice of words. Eye thingy.

“Yes, my eye thingy,” I sighed. “Sorry I didn’t tell—”

“Hey, none of that. You weren't obligated to tell me anything. It never came up in conversation, anyway,” he reasoned. I nodded. “Unless you were maliciously plotting to use your deepest, darkest secrets to stab me in the back in the end,” he teased. I laughed and punched his arm. Then, though—and I didn’t know why I did this, I just did—I flattened out my hand against his arm and wrapped my fingers around what I assumed was his bicep, holding him.

“Thanks for the iPod and playlist, Mikey, honestly. I love it,” I said softly again. I couldn’t get my mind off of it, and I also wanted to say something else to lighten t he slightly deflated atmosphere—Mike feeling a tad rejected even though I didn’t want to reject him. Even though the gift was so simple, it was also so thoughtful. I couldn’t wait to spend some time listening to it—maybe even listen to it with him.

“You’re welcome,” he said happily, his voice ringing through my ears like—call me corny—Christmas bells. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit waiting to explode from within me, or maybe he really was just that wonderful. Either way, I smiled.

I scratched the back of my neck, though. “I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” I ducked my head, embarrassed for accepting a gift but not having anything else to give him in return. We had become really good friends—how did I not think to get him anything?

Mike chuckled. He placed a hand on the side of my face, forcing me to look up at him even though I couldn’t actually see. “I didn’t expect you to, love,” he said. “Besides, you’ve already given me something a lot better than a cheap playlist.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, asking him what he meant. He was quiet for a few moments, simply sweeping his thumb across my cheekbone. “Perspective,” I heard him mumble, just low enough so I was barely able to hear him. “I want to be honest with you, Faye,” he began. I waited. “I don’t have a good rap sheet.”

“What? You’ve been arrested?” I teased.

“No, I’m serious…” he said. I frowned slightly, waiting again for him to continue. “What I mean is that I haven’t always been an honest guy.”

“You haven’t been honest to me?” I felt my cheeks beginning to burn.

“No, no, no, not you,” he rushed. “In the past. I don’t have a good history with girls and stuff. I used to always fuck around a lot, y’know?” I nodded and took a deep breath, wondering where he was going with this and why he was telling me this now. “But… but you’re so different Faye. You’re not like all the other bimbos I’ve—”

“Mike,” I warned.

“Sorry,” he chuckled. “You’re not like all of the other women I’ve been with. I’ve never really been with someone before that actually meant something to me, and, Hell, I’ve never trusted a girl ever. All the relationships I have ever had lacked trust entirely—she would go off with countless numbers of nameless men, and then bitch to me about going off with other women. It wasn’t a very healthy cycle, and I’m not proud of it. But now that I’ve met you… you’re so honest, Faye. And the way you build trust up with people… well, it just makes me see things differently, y’know?”

I paused, taking in his words. “What are you trying to say, Mike?” I asked, my voice a lot smaller than I intended.

“I like you, Faye. And I told you all of that just so you knew a bit more about me… no, scratch that. About who I used to be. Perspective. That’s what you give me. And I love that. I feel so human around you, Faye… I don’t know…” he rambled. I bit my lip. What he said might have bothered me a little—what if he slipped back into his old ways? Was this a risk I was willing to take? But what he said also, strangely, reassured me. Most men would take advantage of the fact that I couldn’t see and lie about who they were, but I knew Mike was honest—the way his voice wavered ever so slightly, the softness and the way it slightly shook (in contrast to his loud, boastful volume when he was teasing) revealed the rawness of Mike’s words.

Besides, he wouldn’t say these kinds of things for nothing, right? Typical, cheating, assholes wouldn’t go through the effort to make a speech like that. Even though I couldn’t see him, even though he had just voiced his past of dishonesty, I could just feel that his words were laced with truth. It was like the way Phoebe talked, the way I felt when Phoebe talked to me seriously—I just knew. The reason why trust was such a scary and fragile trait was because you could never know for sure. But, for some inexplicable reason, you were willing to devote yourself to it for certain people.

“Well, Mike, I have something else for you for Christmas, if you would like,” I murmured quietly.

He sounded genuinely confused when he asked, “What’s that?” I smiled softly and lifted my arms up, touching Mike’s face. I knew he knew that I wasn’t trying to be creepy. My fingers traced his smooth forehead, I felt his eyelids flutter shut when my thumbs hovered lowly over his eyes, his eyelashes brushing over the pads of my thumbs, I curved my hands around his defined jaw, and, finally, my fingers glided across his mouth. I let out a small ‘huff’ as a light laugh when he instinctively licked over his cracked lips. I silently wondered why they were so dry while I grazed over the tissue of his lips, familiarizing myself with them. I slid my hands off of his face, though, and held his head in between my hands, steadying it so he didn’t move. He got the message and I could tell by the way he was breathing more slowly that he was trying his best to stay as still as possible. I felt his hands gently wrap around my wrists, loosely holding my hands that remained connected to his head.

I leaned forward and found the area that I had memorized only a moment before—his face. I could tell because of his warm breath tickling my own features. “Merry Christmas, Mike,” I breathed, my breath shaky and my nerves tingling until the moment my lips touched his.

Notes

Hi everyone! Sorry it's been so long, ah! As usual, I get inspired for different stories at different times--I can't really control it!

Anyway, I hope you liked the update, hehe! (Although it's kind of short, sowwy). I figured to go ahead with the Christmas chapter (it was going to be later, but I was having writer's block on the chapter that I was starting to write, and I decided to switch their places and do this one first instead) because, well, it's christmas! Yay!!

I probably won't be updating for a while (this goes for my other stories) because I'm out of town for the holidays. I'll definitely be writing in spare time, but no promises on updates, obviously.

I hope everyone has a lovely holiday season… if you celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas! Otherwise, happy holidays :)

Love you guys <3