inspired ; chrismd

[ 6 ]

The car pulls up at a house in the town where I live on the coast of Jersey.

"This is my place. I just need to run in and grab something. I'll be a couple of minutes, is that okay?" he asks me. I nod in response as he jumps out of the car, before running to his door and pulling out his keys and unlocking. I take this time to compose myself.

"Get yourself together Molly." I say out loud, letting out a small squeal. He's just too cute for me to handle, this is not fair on my feels.

As promised, he returns in a couple of minutes and starts the car. He must have noticed a change in my mannerisms because he looks at me in a somewhat undecipherable way then smirks. Sitting in his seat, he hands me a plastic carrier bag filled with rectangle shaped boxes. I attempt to sneak a peak inside only to be greeted with a cough from Chris.

"Wait and see, missy. It's a surprise." His voice is slightly gravely, going straight for my chest. What is this boy doing to me?

"Are we going to go then? I can give you directions?" I ask, finally managing to pull myself together, not letting the scarily sudden and disturbingly large amount of attraction overtake me.

"Sure thing, which road are you on?"

"Fountain Lane. Number 54." 

"Cool, let's get going then." He smirks at me as he turns his head to reverse out of his driveway. He's been acting 'different' in an indescribable way since he spoke to the lady in the car park. 

The journey is seemingly uneventful except for that fact that he puts on The Killers which causes the comfortable silence to become slightly more interesting. As we pull up to my house, my eyes flicker towards the man driving next to me. Seemingly, he did the same thing as we make eye contact just as the car pulls to a halt. For whatever reason, this eye contact is maintained even as we step out of the car, almost in perfect synchronization.

"Okay, this is just getting weird now," I exclaim, breaking the silence and causing him to look down slightly as if ashamed, "You can still look at me silly, just the moving in sync was just a tad creepy." He laughs aloud once again and opens the boot of the car, taking out my cases, but, instead of handing them to me, he carries them himself. I find myself blushing at this kind gesture. It's so nice to have people doing kind things for you, especially when they don't need to.

I unlock the door and step inside, Chris following behind me. He sets down the bags, taking only one, the plastic bag he brought from his house.

"You going to tell me what's in there?" I raise and eyebrow at the man, who looked way too happy with himself.

"Nope," he replies, nonchalantly, before grabbing my hand and skipping towards the living room on our right. He pulls me behind him, myself still completely confused at his actions. When we arrive into the room, he pulls out a DVD case from the bag and inserts it into the TV, turning it on in the process. His excitable behavior is hilarious, however I manage to hold onto the impending laugh in the hope of not offending him. Pulling me with him, Chris sits on the sofa and presses play on the movie, skipping through the adverts and landing on the main menu screen. It reads Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2. I remember telling Chris back in London that this was my favorite movie; the fact that he remembered however causes my stomach to erupt into butterflies. We both sit back, my legs tucks round to my right and Chris' arms on the back of the sofa, one of which in close proximity with my head - not that I'm complaining at all that is. 

As the movie progresses, it gets darker, more sinister and, to a certain degree, scary. A dementor jumps out into shot and I jump backwards into the nearest thing to me which in this case happened to be Chris' chest. My breathing gets faster in a small bout of panic but this shortly subsides when he places and arm around my shoulder, holding me into his chest in a tight embrace. I relax yet again and watch the movie play out but in the corner of my eye, I could just make out Chris looking down on me and smiling. Of course, this causes me to mimic this.

The film draws to a close and, in perfect timing, my stomach rumbles loudly. I blush yet again but Chris just grins.

"How about we go and get some food somewhere? I know a really nice pub just in the next town," he questions, for some reason elements of nerves are present in his voice.

"That sounds lovely," I reply, prizing myself away from his grip, "Let me just get my purse." I stand and walk towards my bags, still left abandoned in the hallway. However, to my surprise, I do not make it past the living room door because someone's hands, presumably Chris', fall around my waist, holding me where I am.

"I'm paying."

"But-"

"No buts, I'm paying." I blush not for the first time tonight at his kind gesture.

"Thank you."

"No problems. Let's go."

And with that, we left my house, jumped in his cute little car yet again and made our way to the pub he mentioned previously. When we arrive, he takes my hand and leads me inside.

"A table for 2 please," he says to the waiter who looks me up and down before smirking.

"Certainly, anything for you pretty lady?" he says, checking me out yet again. I go bright red and instinctively move closer to Chris.

"I hope you realize that's my fiance you're talking to?" Chris defends me, an incredibly angry look present on his normally smiley face. I snort internally, that'll shut the pervert up. A look of horror fills the waiter's face.

"Apologies, sir, and madam. Your table is just over here." He speaks in a huge rush, embarrassment obvious, before leading us to a booth in a far corner away from the bar. We both slide into our seats facing each other. Chris leans over the table and whispers in my ear.

"Sorry about the fiance thing, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." I giggle.

"Don't worry yourself, it was kind of cute." Now its his turn to blush.

"You two are a very cute couple," the waiter interjects over the top of our whispered conversation, alerting us both of his presence. About to correct him, I sit up slightly straighter. However Chris beats me to it.

"Thank you very much." This shocks me but I choose not to show it. We make eye contact as the waiter begins to take out orders. Supposedly Chris comes here a lot as he takes no time in choosing his meal. I, on the other hand, take much more time causing me to feel increasingly awkward. Finally, I make a decision and hand my menu to the waiter feeling somewhat relieved. After what seems like an eternity, he leaves us alone, together at this table.

"So..."

"So." He replies, grinning.

"What d'you want to talk about then?"

"You." Taken aback by his forwardness, I just shrug in reply. "Since I have known you, you've told me about what you do but not about 'you'. Are we sort of on the same page here?" I giggle and nod. He shoots me a leading look, as if he is trying to egg me on.

"Well, I'm religious? My favourite colour is green; I play 11 instruments, love dogs; I was born in a town in Hertfordshire before we moved to Sheffield. I was four when my Dad died."

"I'm sorry..."

"You don't need to be; it was his own stupid fault." He sends me a sympathetic smile. The conversation continues with this theme until our food arrives. For certain, it lives up to Chris' praises! We finish quickly and Chris asks the waiter for the bill. Handing over the money, we leave in good time.

As we move towards the exit, he takes my hand in his; squeezing it lightly. Butterflies erupt in my stomach yet again.