Our Love (Advent Calendar 2015)

The 2nd of December

Rob's head is in his hands as he sits on the couch, waiting. He slowly lifts his head and runs a hand through his messy hair. He's... nervous. Though he shouldn't be. He sees Kristen regularly, when she comes to greet the dogs, but this time is different. She's not coming to greet her furry babies, she's coming because he asked – told – her to. And that is why he's nervous; what if he's not enough reason for her to come? What if she doesn't have the strong desire to see him, that he has for her?

He hasn't put up any decorations yet, he's not in the mood. Just thinking about the box filled with ornaments in the basement makes his heart ache with memories of them giggling and kissing while decorating their house for Christmas.

Suddenly there's a knock on the door and he mutters a "fuck", startled. When he realises it's most likely her, he swallows the lump in his throat. The two dogs follow him as he walks to the door. He runs his sweaty palms down his jean-clad thighs and opens the door. When he sees her, he slightly gasps.

She's more beautiful than she's ever been, and that says a lot. For what feels like minutes, they just look at each other, taking in the sight of the other. "Hi," Kristen finally mumbles, a slight smile on her lips. "Hi," Rob whispers back and pulls her in a hug.

When they pull away (a little too soon), they both sigh internally.

"I brought some cookies," Kristen announces, waving the jar in her hands.

Rob puts his palms together in front of his chest, looks up to the ceiling and says, "thank you." He lowers his gaze to Kristen when he hears her chuckle and can't help but smile widely at her.

Kristen greets the dogs – which she may or may not have forgotten while being in Rob's arms – and Rob and her walk into the living room. Kristen looks around frowning. "No decorations?" She asks. She finds herself hoping that the memories would be too painful for him as well. "I haven't really had the time," he shrugs. What he really wants to say is, "it wouldn't be the same without you." But he doesn't. Instead he says, "and I'd also feel a little silly doing it alone... you know?" He scratches his neck and chuckles to cover his emotions.

"Yeah, I know," Kristen says, letting out a sigh that Rob doesn't notice. She lets her fingers glide down to her left hand to play with the gold ring she's completely forgotten she took off several months ago, in Rob's presence.

"But you don't have to do it alone..." Kristen says, almost so quietly that Rob can't hear her. He looks at her like she's grown a third head.

"I'm not gonna ask Tom to fly all the way down here just to help me put up Christmas decorations. Besides, two blokes don't do that, just like they don't go to brunch together either. Maybe if we included some Heineken it could happen, but the lad lives in New York, for Pete's sake."

Silly Rob, Kristen thinks. Always the innocent Brit who doesn't get a hint.

"I was actually talking about myself, but I would love to see the two of you try to untangle the Christmas lights. It almost sounds like the plot of a dirty fanfiction," Kristen chuckles. Rob doesn't hear her last comment, too caught up in the first thing she said. "You want to help me decorate the house?" Rob asks, almost sheepishly, just to make sure.

'Of course, you fucking idiot! We've done this together every year since we met each other, why the fuck would I not want to do it with you? Are you aware of how painful it was to do it without you?' Kristen's thoughts scream in her head. "Sure," is what she says out loud.

The rest of the afternoon they spend decorating Rob's house. It's a tiny bit awkward and (obviously?) not the same as the other years. There are no giggles and kisses. Only nods of approval and nervous chuckles. They eat her cookies as they decorate, and Rob tells her how delicious they are and that it's the first thing he eats today. She looks at the clock on the wall and sees that it's a little past five. Fuck, why can't he just take care of himself? It'd be so much easier, then she wouldn't have to start worrying about him and wonder what the hell it means.

"I miss yo-" Rob says in the middle of a bite. Her heart starts beating faster. He swallows, then continues. "I miss your cooking," he says, his mouth full of gingerbread. If she wasn't so focused on figuring out why she's so sad that he didn't say what she thought he was gonna say, she would be grossed out by the chewed dough in his mouth. She looks at him and notices that he's almost unnoticeable thinner, but thinner nonetheless. She misses cooking for him. But not just that, she misses taking care of him.

But that is not her job anymore. They have broken up, over, finito. Now they both have to take care of themselves. She knows she can do that (probably not if you ask him), but can he? From the looks of it, he's not so good at it. And they're still friends, and friends are supposed to take care of each other, right? She can take care of him. Just a little. Just feed him and make sure he sleeps enough and stuff like that. Fuck, why does she suddenly feel the urge to wrap him in a blanket and give him a bowl of her homemade chicken soup? She's supposed to be getting over him, for fuck's sake.

She looks up at him as he stands on a chair to put some Christmas lights on the wall. When he feels her eyes on him, he turns his head to look at her and gives her a wide smile.

There is no way she can get over him.