The Doorknob

The Kitchen (Epilogue)

Though Phil's recovery was miraculously fast, the doctor insisted he stay for at least a month to ensure there were no regressions or unexpected side effects. I still had to work, but spent all my free time at the hospital. Unfortunately, he was - more often than not - stuck in a physical therapy session, or having some test or scan run to check that everything was still okay; most of my time there was spent getting to know his parents, who seemed far more involved in their son's life than mine had ever been.

It was rather sudden, but Phil had been able to convince them to let him stay with me in London - he fabricated some story about how, before his accident, I'd been a fan of some videos he made. Supposedly, we got to talking online, then I moved nearby for uni and we ended up becoming really good friends. He threw in some details that seemed a little unnecessary (and unrealistic) to me - apparently, we'd even made some videos together - but it did the trick for his parents; their one requirement was a daily check-in call, to which we both happily obliged.

It's odd to be standing outside the door of the flat that completely flipped my life on its head. I'm holding my keys in one hand, the other holding onto Phil. He gives me a quick squeeze, and I glance over to see his bright blue eyes meet mine. This is real. He is real.

I turn the key in the lock, hand resting on the doorknob for just a moment longer than necessary. Then the door is swinging open, and we're both stepping inside, and Phil's shutting the door behind me. I'm frozen in the entrance, still in awe of everything that's happened.

"It's surreal," Phil says, setting his bag down and kicking off his shoes. I do the same, then he wraps an arm around my waist. "I never thought I'd be back here again. When I left..." he pauses, taking a heavy breath, and I press a kiss to his cheek. We've already discussed it, and I understand why he did what he did. I'm glad he did it. "When I left, I'd accepted that I'd never see this place again, that I'd never see you again," he smiles, and it's the sun.

"But it all turned out okay, so quit it with the sappy shit," I'm teasing, but it's all I can do to fight back the tears that threaten to overwhelm me. I still can't believe it. I smile; Phil's now wandering to the kitchen, perhaps out of habit. I can't believe I get that amazing man all to myself. I follow him, comforted by the fact that both our footsteps make the lounge floor creak.

"Y'know," Phil says, turning toward me once he's stood in the middle of the kitchen. "All those years, I could never figure out why I spent so much time in here, until now." His eyes are sparkling, and I can't tell if it's from humor or...something more. My breath catches when he beckons me to join him, and he pulls me against his chest.

"And why's that?" My voice is quiet and breathy, and I can't think straight with his lips so close to my own.

"Well, I must be psychic," he reasons, and a laugh escapes me. That's not at all what I was expecting him to say.

"Oh, is that so?" I tease, resting my forehead against his as I continue to giggle. His grin turns mischievous, and he spins us slowly so my back is pressed against the countertop.

"It is!" He says, and I want to laugh again, but his hands are traveling down my back and over my hips and damn I want this. My breathing has sped up, and I've no doubt my cheeks are already tinged pink, but I can't be bothered to care.

Without warning - though his smirk should've tipped me off - his hands are under my thighs and he's lifted me up to sit on the counter. He pushes my legs open as he steps between them, and I gasp when his hands find my lower back to pull me against him.

"See, all that time, I must've known that this would be the exact spot," he punctuates the sentence with a kiss, chaste and quick, and continues in a voice barely above a whisper, "the exact spot I'd be in the first time I saw the beautiful man I've had the pleasure of falling in love with," he kisses me again, but it's deeper, and I'm so caught off guard by his words that I've completely frozen against him.