Meet Me Under the Mistletoe

Hey guys! Just another short Christmassy story from me for this year - hope you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun writing it :)

Merry Christmas everyone! xo

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Carrier bags slammed against my legs, the handles digging groves into my wrists and fingers as I half-ran, half-stumbled up the stairs. I panted, out of breath, as I leapt up the last few stairs and dashed out onto the platform –

And saw the train pulling away.

I kept running a little way down the platform, momentum carrying me forward, hoping against hope that maybe the train would stop. It didn’t, and I came to a halt, doubling over and gulping down the cold winter air.

At least it wasn’t raining, too. I didn’t think I could deal with rain right now.

I knew I was red in the face. It was so cold out today, what with snow being forecast later tonight, that I’d had to bundle up in my bobble hat and gloves and scarf, as well as my puffy pink coat. But between the station being too hot, and the fact I’d just run all the way from John Lewis, you could probably have fried an egg on my face.

It took me another few seconds to get my breath back, and I straightened up, hauling my bags up from the ground with me.

You’d have thought, that with it being a few days before Christmas, they’d have scheduled railway maintenance a little earlier in December. But no – there wouldn’t be another train home for two hours.

Bloody fantastic. This was just my luck.

Footfalls sounded behind me, someone running, and before I could turn around to look, they ran right into me, sending me lunging forward, trying to keep my balance (and my many bags in hand).

“Hey, watch it!” I shouted at them, straightening up and turning around. I huffed, tossing my head to flick my hair out of my face and I glared. Sure, it was probably an accident, and you can’t really blame someone when they’re for running for their train – but I was not in the mood.

“I’m sorry,” said a guy, the guy who’d just careened into me. He readjusted his hat – a navy blue knitted one that was too big at the back and sagged, his brown hair peeking out at wild angles from underneath it.

I bit back a sharp retort – because crap, this guy was actually pretty cute.

He was about my age – a bit taller than me, but not by much. I was pretty tall, though. And he looked good. In a black jacket and a blue scarf that didn’t match his hat, and jeans that were on the verge of tearing in the knees, and frayed around the hems.

He was panting, too – but not red in the face, like I probably still was. God, I bet I looked like such a disaster. I bet I had hat hair and was my mascara smudged and did I look like a sweaty, stressed-out mess?

“Was that –” He took a big, gulping breath. “– the train to Ebbw Vale?”

“Yeah.”

“Crap. Oh, shit, shit, bugger, shit.” The guy dropped his carrier bags and pulled his hat off, running the sleeve of his jacket across his forehead before pulling his hat on again. “Do you know when the next one is? Was that the last one?”

“There’s another one at six forty.”

He swore again, and spoke to the floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger.”

“No, I’m – I didn’t mean – I just really needed to get on that train.”