Stockholm Syndrome // sm

Chapter Nine

"Shawn?" I asked and he hummed, showing that he had heard me. "How old are you?"

"Uh... eighteen?" He answered, seeming to wonder why I was asking. "Why? Do I look old?"

"No, you don't, that's why I was asking." I told him and he nodded as he brushed my wet hair out. "You look young."

"I am." He confirmed, a gentle hand resting on my lower back. "I was born in 98'. I am a 90's baby."

"I was born in 99'." I said and laughed. "On my birthday this year, I had a soccer game. During half time, my team and friends went to the field with a banner and a small cake. We ended up winning that game by a landslide. It was the best thing ever."

"Sounds amazing." He chuckled and I nodded. "Was your boyfriend there?" He asked and I smiled at the memory.

"He was holding a bundle of roses when I ran off the field." I spoke, remembering the day like it was yesterday as I began playing with the sleeves of the sweatshirt I was wearing. "He took me out to dinner. The first time we didn't just sit around and eat Mexican food."

"That's sweet." He commented and I nodded. I picked a notebook off of the table and then flipped it open. "Did I say you could touch that?"

"No, but I am." I remarked and he laughed a bit as I debated opening it. "Is it your secret diary?" I teased and he hummed as I ran my finger over the pages.

"Maybe."

"Okay, I won't read it then." I said and set it aside. I stretched my legs out and he set my brush down my our side.

"The holidays are coming up." He reminded me and I nodded. "I uh... know it might be hard on you. So I told my dad that I was staying here with you instead of going to his house like I normally do."

"You didn't have to. I could have just sucked it up." I told him and he shrugged, telling me he didn't want me to have to do that. "It'll be just us for Thanksgiving and Christmas?"

"Pretty much."

"Do you at least put up a tree and decorations? Christmas lights and small ornaments? Maybe stocking by your chimney?" I asked and turned around so I could face him.

"This will be the first year I celebrate it here, so I'll need to go buy some. Normally my dad sets it up at his house." He explained and I nodded softly.

"Does this give me an excuse to leave the house? After all, what's Christmas without a tree? What's thanksgiving without a dinner?" I asked hopefully and he laughed.

"I suppose it does. We can go shopping a few days before Thanksgiving." He promised and I nodded. "Would you mind helping me cook then?"

"Never mind." I said and he laughed as he rolled his eyes. "I'll probably end up burning something... everything."

"I'll teach you how to cook." He insisted and I looked at him. I nodded and he hesitantly reached to my face, pushing my bangs away.

"That's weird. Please don't."

"Sorry, it was bothering me." He murmured and smiled to hide his embarassment. I could tell he was embarassed, his cheeks were turning that rosey color again.

"Can you give me a tour of the house?" I rushed, desperately wanting a subject change. The silence was awkward, and I didn't like it.

"You want one?" He asked and I nodded. "Alright then... come on."

I stood up with him and crossed my arms as I followed him. I kind of regret not wearing shoes around his house, because the wooden floorboards and tiled flooring felt like ice as I walked across it.