Formula 1 One-Shots (II)

Ollie Bearman [Mistletoe]

A/N Suggested by . Sorry for the delay, but my thesis is killing me 😶

WORDS: 988

PROMPT:  "You know...I always wanted to know how it feels to kiss under the mistletoe." "We should do it." "Wait, really?" "Yeah. Definitely. Let's do it right now!"
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It is one of those winter evenings - fire cracking, twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, and snow falling outside. The world seems hushed as if winter has put everything under a spell. The room in the cabin is filled with the scent of cinnamon, pine, and gingerbread—everything smelling like the essence of Christmas.

Ollie and I are sitting on the couch, close but not touching, each holding a mug full of hot chocolate. We spent the day hiking through the snow with our families, exploring the nearby town, and playing board games together—just like we do every vacation. While everyone else has gone to bed, we are the only ones left downstairs.

I've known Ollie for years; he's my best friend. We both enjoy sitting in comfortable silence, with no pressure to talk—just being in each other's company. Tonight feels different, though. The fire's warmth and the night's soft glow create a kind of magic. It's as if something unspoken is lingering in the air.

Ollie leans back on the couch, looking at something, and I follow his gaze, only to spot the mistletoe hanging above the fireplace. It's been an old, silly tradition we've both laughed about over the years, but now it seems to hold something else. The mistletoe hanging over the fire casts a shadow, and suddenly, Ollie turns his attention back to me, his eyes glittering mischievously.

"You know..." he starts, his voice low but playful. "I've always wanted to know what it feels like to kiss under the mistletoe."

I raise an eyebrow and glance at the mistletoe with an amused smile, knowing it's there but not really paying attention to it before. Now, with Ollie's words hanging in the air, something shifts in my chest, thickening the space between us as my mind makes a decision.

"We should do it," I blurt out, surprised by my own words. I feel the warmth rise to my cheeks, but the soft smile on my lips remains.

Ollie blinks at me, processing my words, probably trying to figure out if I'm joking or being serious. My heart begins to race, suddenly no longer feeling brave. But then Ollie leans closer.

"Wait, really?" he asks, a small laugh escaping his lips, though he's nervous. He licks his lower lip and runs a hand through his messy hair.

I try to look him in the eyes, at least showing a bit of confidence. "Yeah, definitely," I say, my voice steady. "Let's do it right now."

The silence that follows is heavy with unspoken thoughts. Neither of us moves, both frozen in place, debating whether this is a good idea. The fire cracks, the wind howls outside, but inside, everything seems frozen.

I'm not sure why Ollie is hesitating. Maybe the weight of our friendship is holding him back, or the fear that it might change something between us. I still look at him, feeling the doubt as well, but I try to be the brave one—even though Ollie started this.

Ollie shifts slightly, and my pulse spikes when he looks back at the mistletoe. It almost seems to glow in the dim room, as if challenging us. Then he turns his attention to me, takes a deep breath, and says, "Okay, let's do it."

My next breath hitches in my throat as we lean closer to each other. My body is showing signs of nervousness inside of me—sweaty palms, a heart beating far too fast, and a dry mouth. What if everything goes wrong after this kiss? I've always cared for Ollie, and loved having him in my life, but never before have I felt this spark, this new feeling.

Our faces are so close, our breaths brushing over each other, and time seems to stop.

And then, without hesitating further, Ollie closes the gap, his lips brushing against mine.

It's a soft kiss at first. We're both testing the feeling, trying to figure out what it will mean. Then our lips meet again and again, with more confidence with each kiss. The uncertain feelings melt away, and there's no thinking, no questioning—just the warmth of Ollie's lips on mine, the smell of Christmas combined with his unique scent, and the sweet taste of the moment. The kiss remains calm and gentle, but it's filled with something I don't dare put into words.

One of my hands touches his chest, and I can feel his heartbeat racing under my palm. Everything else disappears—there's only the two of us—and I try to commit this moment to memory forever.

When we finally pull back, we're both out of breath, our faces flushed red. Neither of us dares to speak. We just look at each other, processing the situation.

"Well..." Ollie mumbles, his voice husky. "That's how it feels."

I laugh softly, the sound coming easily. "Yeah, I guess so."

Leaning my head against his shoulder, I realize his heartbeat is still racing. There's no need to instantly figure out what this kiss means for us—no pressure to find a declaration just yet. The kiss was simple, but it changed everything.

I pull back just enough to meet his eyes. "I'm glad we did this," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," Ollie replies, a crooked smile on his lips, but it's honest. "It's like a Christmas gift I wasn't expecting."

We both laugh at his words, the sound filling the room easily, just like it always has between us. But now, there's something new—an unspoken understanding, a connection.

We stay seated a bit longer, the fire cracking in the background, while the night continues to fall around us. I realize this Christmas might not be about the gifts, the family, or the decorations. This Christmas is about unexpected moments, like this. And perhaps the kiss under the mistletoe is just the beginning of something magical.