I pulled away slowly, the tingly feeling of Mike’s lips on mine lingering. I wished more than anything in the world that I could just look him in his eyes so I could see what he was thinking, how he was reacting.

Mike tucked some of my hair behind my right ear, brushing his thumb across my cheek in the process. “Your eyes are starry,” he murmured. “What are you thinking?”

I smiled softly and ducked my head a little. “I’m thinking… I’d like to kiss you again,” I whispered honestly, giving in to the desires that were swarming through my body; I was already feeling addicted to how gentle his lips were. Mike chuckled softly. “But I wish I could see what you were thinking,” I added lowly. Mike didn’t say anything; instead, he cupped my cheek again and I felt his breath inch closer to my face. I gulped but leaned forward again, our mouths barely together. I blinked a few times, still unsure but the anticipation was killing me, his lips were so close but not close enough.

Mike let out a shaky breath, though, as if he was unsure and nervous, too. “It’s okay,” I murmured, giving him permission, as if my previous thoughts of wanting to kiss him again were not enough. With that, he pressed his lips firmly on mine. His left hand still resting on my face, he squeezed my right hand with his—I didn’t even realize our fingers were intertwined, resting between us on my lap, until he did so.

All too soon, Mike pulled away. I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted or what I was supposed to do next. I bit my lip and sighed, my breath shaky. Mike ran his fingers through my hair. “Are you okay?” he asked gently. I nodded.

“I just really wish I could look at you right now,” I whispered. The desire to really see him was almost painful.

“I know,” he whispered sympathetically. “I’m so sorry.” I nodded, knowing it was no use to complain because there was nothing I could do about it right now. I was used to living in the dark, but I wasn’t used to having to let someone else in, knowing that they had light that I just couldn’t see.

“C’mere,” he whispered. He wrapped his arms around me and I allowed him to pull me closer to him. I rested my head on his shoulder and my legs were bent across his lap. He held one hand firmly on my back while the other I could feel playing with my hair. His breath was on my cheek.

“I’m really happy I met you,” Mike said, his lips moving on my cheek as he spoke. I smiled softly.

“I’m really happy I met you, too,” I reciprocated. “Except you make things complicated as fuck,” I added. Mike squeezed my side and laughed.

“Complicated in a good way,” he said hopefully. I shook my head and smiled, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

“Definitely bad,” I said seriously. I could almost sense Mike rolling his eyes.

“Alright, well see ya later,” he said, standing up suddenly. I shrieked and clung to him as he lifted me up with him. Mike laughed his booming laugh.

“Mike, nooo,” I clenched my eyes shut and buried my face into his shoulder, him holding me bridal style. He spun me around a few times and I gripped on to him tightly. “Mike!” I laughed. “Put me down right now!” I ordered. Mike chuckled and fell back onto the couch, bouncing a little with the impact. I tightened my hold on him and buried my head into his neck.

“You’re such a spaz,” I slapped his chest. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I can’t really sit still for a long period of time.”

“I don’t believe it,” I said sarcastically.

“Shush,” he quieted, tickling my sides. I squirmed a little in surprise but relaxed, even as he continued to poke my rib cage. “Are you not ticklish there?”

“Nope,” I said.

“That’s fucking weird.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” I snickered. Mike didn't say anything else; instead, he wrapped his arms around me and sighed dramatically, falling to the side and taking me down with him.

I smiled softly and nuzzled my head against his lower shoulder, my right bent and resting by his chest, and my left arm draped over his waist. “Care to cuddle?” he asked quietly, the scruff on his chin tickling the side of my face.

“You’re so awkward,” I whispered.

“Really? I always thought I was pretty smooth.”

“Shut up,” I rolled my eyes and punched his chest, weakly because my arm was mostly immobile between us. Mike moved a little, and soon I felt his hand touch my right one, our fingers tangling together.

“You’re blushing,” he whispered.

“You’re cocky,” I whispered back. He chuckled and brushed the left side of my hair—I was lying on my right side, facing him.

“You’re adorable.”

“You’re annoying.”

“Hey! I was being nice!” he objected, and I giggled.

“I’m sure you’re adorable, too, calm down,” I teased.

“No need to speculate. I am adorable,” he insisted.

“Whatever you say,” I laughed, playfully rolling my eyes.

“So,” he started with a sigh. “Christmas is in a few days! Are you excited?” he sang happily.

I giggled. “Yes! Hey, did Phoebe decorate?” I looked around jokingly.

“She did, actually. There’s garland and lights and mistletoes everywhere!” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think I believe you.”

“I only kissed you because we were sitting right underneath one,” he snickered. I dropped my jaw and punched his chest, also blushing because I knew he was messing with me, but I still felt awkward. “I’m kidding,” he breathed with a light laugh, and I imagined that his eyes sparkled happily. I wished I could see them, but for now I would have to settle with my imagination.

“Moving on…” I narrowed my eyes at him but I couldn’t maintain a serious face, I smiled and he gave me a squeeze. “What are you doing for Christmas? Do you and your band spend it together?”

“Nah, actually. Well, we will see each other one of the days around Christmas, but we try to avoid each other at all costs after touring.” I laughed. “But it’s usually just me, my brother, and my parents for Christmas Eve… And then Christmas day we have an infinite amount of extended family that we party with. We’re Mexican. I don’t know half of my relatives,” he said.

“Oh, wow,” I laughed. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it’s cool to spend time with them, y’know? After touring so much, it’s nice to really be home.” I smiled thoughtfully. “So, what about you? Are you guys going back to—where did you come from? North Carolina?" I nodded. "Are you guys going back home for the holidays?" He asked.

I shook my head but didn't say anything.

"So it's just you and Phoebe here?" He asked. I nodded, silent. "Are you okay?" He asked slowly, sensing my apprehension. I shook my head and closed my eyes—surprised at myself for even revealing that.

"I’m normally fine, but when I start thinking about it…” my mind drifted to my family—my lack of family. I wished more than anything that I could spend the holidays with a big group of family who loved me even if they barely knew me. I would choose to stay blind forever if it meant to have my family back. “It gets hard. Sorry," I whispered, ducking my head. I've never actually said that out loud before. It was always just implied with Phoebe—she knew, she knew everything. We both just mutually went through the holidays together, normally happily because we had each other but the longing for some other family remaining somewhere inside.

"Will you tell me why?" He asked gently, brushing back my hair.

"Uh, yeah," I breathed, sort of surprised that I said that but sort of glad I did.

"That's okay, I'm sorry I asked," he rushed. I shook my head and went to sit up. Mike rose with me, so I was sitting close next to his left side. I turned my body so I was facing him, my right leg bent under my left and my right side leaning on the back of the couch. I felt the couch shift beneath me—Mike probably turning himself to face me, too. He reached forward and grabbed my hands. I smiled softly and sighed.

"I'm an only child. My parents died in a plane crash and my only other relative—my Aunt—apparently cared more about the money she got from her brother's death than his daugther--me, obviously. Not to mention she probably didn't want to deal with the struggles of a newly blinded niece," I said quickly and dryly, like it wasn't even my story.

Mike didn't say anything for a few moments. "A plane crash did this?" He asked quietly. His hands dropped mine and I almost frowned at the absence of his touch until I felt his fingers trace over my eyes. My lids fluttered shut when he tenderly brushed his fingers across. I nodded. "That's..." He stopped, as if he wasn't sure what to say. I didn't blame him.

"I don't remember much. Just little things here and there. I was so small, I guess that's why I didn't die like the two-hundred-and-seven others," I said in a tiny voice, reliving the bit of survivor’s guilt that lingered deep within me. I looked up at Mike, even though I couldn't see him I wanted to make eye contact—I hoped that I was. "Sometimes I wish I did."

At this, Mike lurched forward and pulled me into him, holding me tightly. "You're still here. Against all odds and with so much shit you've dealt with, you're still here. I'm so glad you are," he whispered into my ear. I clutched onto him, burying my face into his neck and crying softly. I haven't cried over this in so long, but ever since arriving in San Diego the emotions have slowly but surely slithered from my heart and out into the open. It was half-painful and half-relieving.

"Sorry, Mike," I sniffled, pulling away.

"No," he said quickly, tightening his hold. It was so comforting, the way he held me and wouldn't let me go; it was as if he never was going to leave.

"Thank you," I whispered. He rubbed my back soothingly and I sighed into his shoulder.

“But it’s okay,” I said quickly. He hummed. “I can’t complain because I have Phoebe. I was really lucky, instead of being shipped off somewhere, her f-family took me in. I had a really great social worker.” I smiled. “That’s why I became one. So I can help other kids find a happy place,” I murmured gently. I could sense that I was about to drift into my thoughts about my job that I missed. I stopped myself before I got carried away, though. “I don’t know why I just spilled all of that,” I furrowed my eyebrows and laughed nervously.

“That’s okay, Faye. I like hearing these things,” he said, rubbing my shoulder. “Spill all you need,” he said warmly. I smiled softly and shook my head.

“I’m good now.”

“You sure?” I nodded and bit my lip, my mind prancing over to Phoebe’s family and I wondered if she wanted to see them this Christmas—I doubted it, but the thought, along with a slight twinge of guilt, remained.

"Hey Mike?" I asked softly to force myself to stop thinking.

"Hm?" He buzzed, like he had been thinking of something else and was coming back from the world of his thoughts, too.

"Wanna listen to music, maybe?" I suggested shyly.

Mike squeezed me gently and I could almost feel him smile. "Yes, of course," he said.

"Okay," I smiled, standing up. I loosely held Mike's hand, leading him out of the living room and into mine.

"I'm impressed," he laughed.

"Why?" I asked as I made my way over to my stereo. I plugged in the new iPod Mike had given me.

"You just navigated through your house by yourself," he said.

"I'm a big girl." I folded my arms across my chest.

Mike chuckled. "Yes you are. I keep forgetting."

"Forgetting!" I exclaimed. He chuckled again.

"I mean that I keep forgetting you're so independent. It's amazing."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "Eh."

"No, really," he murmured, his voice louder because he was getting closer to me. But then it was lower and his breath tickled my ear. His left hand protectively rested on my waist, and I felt him reach around me with his right arm and start the music. His chin rested on my shoulder. "Hi," he whispered, his long arms sneakily wrapping around my waist from behind. I smiled because the first song to come on his playlist was "My Understandings", my favorite song that I suppose, because it was on his playlist, became one of his favorite songs, too.

"Hi Mike," I rolled my eyes and placed my hands on top of his, pulling them apart. He "hmphed", and I rolled my eyes.

I turned around and wrapped my arms around Mike, burying my face into the center of his chest for a moment, taking in his sweet scent. Then I pulled away and pouted—"We never really got to cuddle because you had to be all personal," I poked his chest.

"Aw, Faye," he sighed. "I'm sorry about upsetting you," he said.

"No, no, silly, I'm just teasing you, it wasn't your fault," I rushed. He chuckled a little and I felt his head nod against the top of mine.

He pulled me back with him, falling back onto my bed. I snuggled up to him easily—I didn't know where this confidence was coming from, but I guessed it was just because I already felt so comfortable with him. I desired to be as close to him as possible; he was just so... cuddly.

He played with my hair and I closed my eyes in content.

"It seems like you haven't cuddled in a while," he suggested. I shook my head.

"I cuddle all the time with Phoebe. But you're different."

"Girls cuddle each other?" He sounded dumbfounded.

"Are you kidding? Of course we cuddle!"

"That's cute," he laughed.

"You're better," I whispered with a grin. "Don't tell her I said that."

He laughed and squeezed me—I was beginning to notice that this was a habit of his. After every laugh and every pause in conversation, he squeezed me, as if to fill the silence with something else. Although I wasn't quite sure what that something else was. I liked it, though.

"Are you tired?" He asked after a few minutes, brushing back my hair.

"Only because you're doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Playing with my hair. It makes me so relaxed and sleepy," I smiled.

I propped my elbow on his chest and leaned over, resting my head on my hand and "looking" at him. I didn't know why I did that—I couldn't see anything anyway, I could just simply stare at a wall and talk like a statue and it wouldn't make a difference to me—but I did it anyway. It was more interactive, and I knew it made a difference to the person I talked to. Maybe I did it specifically to make Mike feel like he was hanging out with a normal girl.

"Are you bored?" I asked.

"Not at all."

"Are you sure? Because we're just sort of laying around, not doing anything."

"I'm playing with your hair," he offered. "And we're talking and listening to music."

"True." I flattened my arm against him and lowered my head; my cheeks heated a little when I realized I was almost lying completely on top of him—I'm sure he didn't mind, though.

"Plus I'm always going going going, it's nice laying low for a change," he continued. "Especially when it's getting to know a beautiful girl," he whispered.

"Now you're just being sappy," I lightly hit his chest, rolling my eyes because of course I wasn't beautiful. I didn't know what I looked like, but I knew I couldn't be beautiful. Not when I was blind. I frowned, the only thing in my head in this moment being how wild my eyes probably looked—wild, red, and scary. Not beautiful.

"Starry eyes," he sang lightly, tickling my cheek. I slid off of Mike as he turned to lay on his side. I was forever conscious of his warm breath brushing across my face, even better than a breeze of fresh air. He snuck his arms around me and pulled me closer, proper cuddling. I closed my eyes.

"So," I murmured. "How are Vic and Phoebes, you think?"

"They're good," he replied just as lowly. "Vic's so funny when he gets crazy about a girl," he chuckled.

"He's crazy about her?"

"Of course. Vic is so sweet to girls. Phoebe's a lucky girl," he said.

"You sound jealous," I snickered.

"That's disgusting," he laughed, and I scrunched my nose up in agreement.

"I apologize for insulating that," I grimaced. He laughed and I felt his lips brush over my forehead—not in a kiss, but just being close. "Well you're not too bad yourself, y'know," I murmured.

"Eh. I mean I guess you could say we Fuentes brothers are wild romantics," he poked my side.

"Softies," I teased. He poked my side again.

"Is that a problem?" He huffed. I grinned and shook my head, and he poked my side again.

"Right, you're not ticklish there. I think that's so weird."

"I'm weird in a lot of ways," I shrugged my shoulders.

"I like it," he said happily.

"Hm." I yawned involuntarily.

"Aw, you're tired," he cooed.

"I’m not," I objected. I didn't want to fall asleep in his company—I wanted to learn more about him, I even wanted to let him learn more about me.

Mike didn't say anything; instead, he started to play with my hair more noticeably.

"Jerk," I mumbled as my body relaxed. He chuckled and I felt a grin stretch across his face, his mouth still against my forehead. Then, I felt his mouth open into a yawn.

"Aw, you're tired," I mocked.

"I'm comfortable," I felt him shrug his shoulders. I smiled softly and breathed in. My eyes were closed already, I just couldn't help it. I was comfortable, too.

"Aw," I suddenly heard, my head shooting up. Mike was still at my side, his breathing an even pace. He snored ever so slightly and sporadically, not enough to be annoying and plenty to be actually kind of adorable. "Sorry Faye, I didn't mean to wake you," I heard Phoebe whisper. I furrowed my eyebrows but then connected the dots.

"What time is it?"

"Four," she said.

"What are you doing home? Why didn't you just sleep over at Vic's?" I asked quietly, genuinely curious.

"Er, we had gotten back to his place, but Vic was worried 'cause Mike wasn't home and wasn't answering his phone... It was cute he was so worried about his baby brother"—she slurred a little, and I heard another voice—Vic—object in a whispered, "hey!", followed by a giggle from Phoebe—"and so we just came here real fast, and aw look at them," she rambled. I blushed a little. Phoebe giggled again and I heard Vic laugh, too.

"Okay let's get out of here," I heard him whisper to her.

"Bye Faye. Sorry for waking you buddy," Phoebe whispered loudly. I smiled and waved briefly, staying sat up until I heard them shuffle away and close the front door.

I smiled and fell back down. Mike's arms tightened around me and my smile widened. I closed my eyes and sighed happily, re-snuggling into him.

"Mm, are you okay?" He stirred quietly. I nodded and rested my hand on the side of his exposed face, my thumb brushing over his stubble.

"You're brother and Phoebe just visited," I giggled a little.

"Oh, shit," he perked up. "I didn't mean to fall asleep, I'm sorry."

"Neither did I. It's fine with me though, honestly," I said. Then I added in a tiny voice: "I don't really like being alone."

He settled back down and gave me one of his squeezes. "Then I won't leave you," he whispered, and he kissed my cheek. I didn't know what this was—probably his sleepiness infecting his head, making him overly affectionate—but I liked it.

Notes

A fluffy Christmas present for all of y'all! Love you all and I hope your day is, was, or continues to be fab! And if you don't celebrate Christmas, happy holidays c:
And I hope Santa was kind for you guys ;P I got This is a wasteland but I haven't gotten to watch it yet and I'm so excited I might explODE

Night :) xx