mute » tomlinson ON HOLD

thirteen; celebrating

My eyes were nearly drifting closed as I continued down the highway that would lead me to Springfield. The street lights illuminated the road in front of me, the yellow dividers reflecting brightly. My hand reached for the radio, turning the volume as far as it would go in order to keep me awake for the next 20 minutes.

I felt a buzz in my right pocket, sending a vibration down my leg. I was thankful for the small jolt, in hopes it would shake the drowsiness from my system. Pulling my phone from my jeans, my eyes squinted at the bright screen.

From: Rainy

be safe driving please : )

After the night of the party, the drive back to Rainy's house was silent. Even though once I was sat in the car, she grabbed a hold of my hand and didn't let go until she was opening the car door to leave. Not that I was complaining, I quite liked having her small dainty hand wrapped around mine. Though, I liked having her lips pressed against mine just a bit more.

I didn't talk to her the next day either, considering she was stuck at the bookstore all day (which I thought was outrageous considering how close it was to Christmas, but she argued that a customer might need a last minute gift so she had to go in) because she had missed too many shifts. She texted me something cute along the lines of 'I blame you'. And hey, it was probably true.

We didn't speak of the kiss, but it wasn't like either of us had forgotten. God, no, it consumed my thoughts all night (when I laid in bed, fiddling with my lips and remembering the feeling of her's against them until early morning) and the day after. Her lips were just incredibly soft despite the cracks that damaged them. And her scent of coconuts that seemed linger wherever she had been was intoxicating.

I couldn't get enough.

To: Rainy

thank you! almost there now

~*~

My eyes nearly bulged out of my head at the heavy impact on my groin. Pushing off whatever had landed on me, which happened to be a small nine year old girl, I turned over to sink deeper into the bed sheets.

"Lou! It's Christmas! Get up!" Phoebe screeched from the floor. I felt the bed dip as she knelt beside me, continuously hitting my arm. "Get up! Get up! Get up!"

I peeked one eye open and groaned, mumbling sleepily, "What day is it?"

"Are you kidding, Louis? It's Chris–"

I shot up from my position and pinned the girl down by her arms while she screamed maniacally, "Hm well, guess you better get downstairs and see what Santa brought you, yeah?"

She squealed beneath me, calling out helplessly, "Daisy! Help me!"

I ignored her, "Or, I could keep you here and make you miss out on all the gifts. How's that sound?" Collapsing onto the mattress, careful not to crush her, I threw a heavy arm across her stomach to keep her trapped. I snuggled into her side and hummed, "I wonder if Santa ate his cookies. Oh well, guess we'll never find out."

"Louis! Let me go!" She hit against the arm that was effortlessly preventing her from going anywhere. In between screams, she would giggle only for me to tighten my grip.

"Louis William! Let my sister go!" I heard Daisy stomp into the room, to which I glanced over my shoulder to see a determined look adorning her scrunched up face.

I laughed, "Oh yeah? And what're you going to do about it, Daise?"

She put her hands on hips and looked around the guest bedroom. "Hm, well I could tell Mom to not give you any of her special chocolate chip pancakes."