A Proscriptive Relationship

Holly, It's Cold Outside.

Hahaha! I totally forgot I wrote this! I remember posting it around Christmas time two years ago... Actually, on Christmas. Since it's the holiday season again, I'll repost it. It's so poorly written xD Some of you probably already read it, but whatever! And Holly stills calls him Mr. Heywood xD I forgot about that!

I love Kurt and Blaine. SO CUTE.

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       Familiar images flashed across the television screen as for the millionth time they played a Trojan condom commercial. If this station was trying to promote safe sex, they were doing a good job of it. Feeling my face heat up, I brought my hand out from under the blanket I was under and reached for the remote, aiming to change the channel. Mr. Heywood captured my hand before I could, pulling it back to our bodies.

            "Are you going to change the channel every time a condom commercial comes on, Holly?" he asked, his jaw moving on my shoulder with each word.

             Shaking my head, I let him take the remote away from me. He placed it back on the side table, and shifted his position so I could lean more comfortably into him. Our hands returned to under the blanket and his found mine, entwining together. I turned my head, glancing at the clock on the wall.

             "Oh my god," I started, sitting up quickly.

             "What?"

             I gestured to the clock with my hand while trying to free myself from Mr. Heywood and the tangle of blankets we were under. "Look at the time!"

             "What about it?" Mr. Heywood asked in a curious voice. "If you’re worried about it changing, it changes every second…"

             Rolling my eyes, I finally managed to throw the blankets off us. "It’s late."

             "Now it’s cold," Mr. Heywood groaned, pulling me back to him. "No one likes being cold."

             "Mr. Heywood, I have to go," I told him, quickly throwing on my coat, scarf, and hat.

             "No you don’t."

             "Yes I do."

             Mr. Heywood shook his head stubbornly. "Nope."

             "I really can’t stay—"

             "Baby, it’s cold outside," Mr. Heywood pointed out, a frown slipping onto his face.

             I stared at him for a moment. Was he just saying that or…? I shook my head. Might as well try. "I’ve got to go ‘way."

             Mr. Heywood grinned. "Baby, it’s cold outside."

             A smile of amusement slipped onto my face too. Who knew Mr. Heywood knew Christmas songs? "The evening has been—"

             Mr. Heywood cut me off, pulling on my arm as I tried to move away from him. "I’ve been hopin’ that you’d drop in."

             "So very nice," I finished firmly, pushing away from him.

             He quickly grabbed my hand. "I’ll hold your hand, they’re just like ice."

             "My mother will start to worry—" Which probably wasn’t true. She probably wanted me here just as much as I wanted to stay.

             "Hey beautiful, what’s your hurry?" he sang in a quiet voice.

             "And father will be pacing the floor," I said, rather awkwardly.