Under The Mistletoe (Short Christmas Story)

I tried to make out the bus shelter across the busy street clustered with late Christmas shoppers, and taxis skating quickly across the icy roads. I hastily pushed my fringe to the side, squinting at the traffic for my spot to dash across the road. I pulled the bobbles of my furry hat down, securing it tighter around my skull, warming my head. I saw the gap in traffic and hastily half-jogged across the road, pulling my jacket tight around me, my heavy boots making a strange muted clomping sound on the frosty pavement, as I ducked under the bus shelter. The only other person was a guy who looked a bit older than me, standing at about six feet tall with a guitar case slung on his back. I shuffled respectively into my corner of the shelter and whipped out my phone, checking how worried my mother was about me getting home on time. I took this time to sneakily check out the boy, he seemed cute. He had a dark grey beanie resting lazily on jet black hair that seemed lighter at the front. Was it…green? His brow was furrowed as he squinted at this phone, before sighing and shoving it back in his black and beige coat pocket. Wool lined his collar, which he seemed to nuzzle into to keep warm. I was inspecting the plugs in his ears, trying to guess the size when his eyes slid across to me and locked with mine. I blushed as he grinned an angelic smile, two rings on the left side of his lip glinting as he did. The streets cleared as shops closed, snow beginning to fall harder and coat the plastic roof of the bus shelter with frosted white icing. I looked away hastily and returned my gaze to my phone, trying to recover from the awkward eye encounter. I felt it and saw in my peripheral as his presence shuffled closer to my side of the bus shelter. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a hand flick the kitten ears of my furry hat.

“Cute hat.” A surprisingly soft and gentle voice said. I looked up at the stranger again, even more gorgeous up close, his greyish-green eyes absorbing mine. “And an even cuter face.” He chuckled

I scoffed, embarrassed, and rolled my eyes. I cleared my throat to try and speak.

“Have I missed the 7:20?” It was now 7:30pm. He laughed and looked away.

“No. You haven’t. It’s late.” He sighed and crossed his arms, leaning back on the glass back wall of the construction. Between the gap in his collar I could see the slight rise of tattoos rising up from his neck. I wondered how many were hidden on that winter-clad frame. I looked down and noticed the ones on his hands as well. I tilted my head trying to read them.

“Live Free.” He spoke up, scaring me again with the sudden presence of his lovely voice. He spread out his fingers in front of me. “It’s one of my mottos.”

“Right.” I said quietly, nodding. I felt awkward and strange, and didn’t enjoy bus stop encounters with strangers. Another ten minutes passed by.

“I think there might be snow on the roads. The bus could be delayed. Or not coming.” He said, I suppose to inform me, but I wasn’t really listening. I yawned and slid down the wall until I was sitting on the cold concrete floor of the bus shelter, with my knees pulled up to my chest. The boy followed my movement, sliding down to crouch beside me.

He sighed again. “This is not how I envisioned spending Christmas Eve.” I nodded in agreement. He turned his head to look at me; I could feel his eyes burning holes in my cheek.

“So does the pretty face have a name?” He asked, a wry smirk now growing on his face. I looked up at him.

She brought her eyes up to meet mine, her cheeks tinging red over the already dusting pink cause by the cold. My cheeky comment had caught her attention, and with any luck, her affection as well.

“Teresa.” She said quietly, barely audible, blinking fast, her fringe fell down over her eyes. She looked down, hiding her face again. “But you can call me Terry.” She mumbled.