Complementary

twenty nine

12:51 - the strokes

zayn

Dinner passes by at an excruciatingly slow pace.

I do not bother trying to make small talk with Dean and Johannah, who are sat across from me, mainly because I am no good at that. Carlie excels in this area; chatting about things of miniscule importance to daily politics, and now Louis has gotten her started on feminism. She is seemingly passionate about this topic, which I cannot help but admire. Her eyes light up and she makes interesting hand gestures, glaring at her father when he tells her to keep her voice down just a bit. She does not listen to his plea in the slightest.

"God, Eleanor, I do not understand how you put up with such a -"

"Enough, Carlie Rose." Dean interrupts Carlie's conclusion to her arguement, his voice holding a type of authority that I have never heard him use.

"It's fine, Dean, it's all in good fun." Johannah defends Carlie, sending her a smile, as if they are silently communicating or something of the sort. It seems as though they have built quite the relationship.

"Wow, mom," Louis shakes his head sarcastically. "To think your own son was about to fall victim to name-calling, and here you are, defending the perpetrator."

Johannah scoffs, simply ignoring Dean's expression of distaste. He soon excuses himself from the table, taking his glass of wine with him. An awkward silence falls among us after he leaves.

"How much longer until I can take you home, love?" I decide to murmur into Carlie's ear.

Her gaze flickers up to meet mine. "In a rush, are we?"

I chuckle lowly. "Can you blame me?"

She places a hand on my thigh, slowly hiking it up my leg. "Good things come to those who wait."

I groan internally and swat her hand away, leaning back in my chair. I choose to pretend I do not notice Louis' death stare on me, and the tactic proves to work well. He soon looks away and returns his attention back to Eleanor, as that is usually where his attention is anyway.

The boisterous noise of the ballroom is soon interrupted by the sound of silverware against glass, signaling someone would like to make a toast. I strain my eyes to see where the noise has come from, and sure enough, it is Dean, standing in the center of the room. His stance is proud and tall, nearly coming off as arrogant.

"Good evening, all," he speaks. "I would just like to make a toast to the holiday season and all of the joy that it brings upon us. To us, to our families, and to a great New Year!"

I turn to be met with Carlie's icy stare. She does not lift her glass.

"I swear, Zayn, if you join in on his phony toast I will personally stomp on your balls."

I smirk at her comment, picking up my glass of champagne from the table and holding it between us. "Then let's just toast to me and you."

She bites her lip in contemplation, as if she is deciding whether or not to accept my offer. She then rolls her eyes and plucks her glass of wine from the table, tapping it against my own. "To me and you." She mutters.

I tip my head back and down the rest of the alcohol, smiling afterward.

-

After what feels like an eternity, the holiday party collectively comes to an end. People begin filing out of Carlie's large home, saying their good byes to the Greene family on their way out, leaving the six of us alone in the now-barron ballroom.

The catering staff rushes around, trying to clean up the mess left behind so they can go home. I feel strange just watching everyone else do work while I stand here helplessly, but I guess that is the way some wealthy people live. I admit, though, if I had the money Dean has, I would probably sit on my ass a lot more than I do now.

"You ready to get going?" Carlie asks, standing square in front of me. Our chests are nearly pressed together and I inhale sharply at our sudden proximity.

"Yes, very ready." I say.

She smiles, reaching up to run her touch along my jaw. "Did I tell you how much I like the beard?"

"It's not quite a beard yet." I reply shyly, unable to accept her compliment properly like a normal person would.

"Well, whatever you'd like to call it, I like it," Carlie decides. "And your hair has gotten quite long as well."

I nod awkwardly.

She bursts out into laughter. "You're cute."

I open my mouth to protest as I usually do when she calls me 'cute' or 'adorable', but Louis cuts me off to say good bye.

We end up following him and Eleanor out, though they walk toward Lou's new Mercedes and Carlie and I walk toward my old truck. I open the door for Carlie, hoisting her in since she has difficulty due to the length of her gown.

I round the car and climb into the cab, starting the engine immediately. It is brutally cold outside, causing me to crank the heat as high as possible.

"Have you started packing for California?" Carlie asks out of the blue.

"No," I chuckle. "I usually don't start until the night before."

She grins. "Procrastinator."

I nod in agreement, beginning the drive home as she digs around my glovebox for a new CD to play. Instead of choosing an artist that she has never heard before, she sticks in that same old Usher album from a while ago.

"For old time's sake," She states, leaning over as best as she can manage, pressing a kiss to my jaw.

I feel myself smile. "Love you, Carlie."

-

bit of a filler, just dropping in to say thank you to those who are reading and please vote!

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