rains & mistletoes

t h r e e

IT STARTED IN Australia but he didn't do anything about it afterwards, even when he got home from filming.

Not that he saw her enough to actually do something, really. She was tied up with school works, even on weekends, that she barely gate-crash his Saturday evening movie marathons anymore as she was wont to do in the past. And, besides, he was occupied with college applications too. Yes, he admittedly has proven alright in the acting industry (those acting classes his mum put him in when he was a kid seemed to be worth the hassle) but it doesn't mean he was no longer determined to obtain a degree. 

Still, he was grateful for all the distractions. Grateful (though also a bit upset) that she no longer shows up in his front door, dripping wet in the rain, then ransacking his fridge for Coke afterwards. At least, it had taken his mind off his jumbled emotions and her because it was seriously getting in the way of his life. (He got into Cambridge, though, and he thought he should get a bleeding medal for that.)

He didn't have the chance to do anything about it, no.

Until.

--

She came by his house months and months after Australia. It was a Sunday afternoon and it was pouring rain.

"I need help," she greeted as soon as he opened his front door.

She was wearing the sweatshirt he gave her one Christmas and trousers that were too big for her. Her hazel blue eyes were dark and tired and her hair was up in that messy ponytail he realized he loves.

He was aware that the t-shirt he was wearing had a ketchup stain in the front, his hair was sticking up in all directions, and he had yet to take a shower.

"I see you've finally brought an umbrella." he said dryly.

"Only because you'll make a fuss if I don't."

She was right. He would.

He stepped aside to let her in, catching a whiff of her caramel scent. He coughed lightly. "What can I help you with?"

She rolled her eyes. "No need to be so ridiculously formal, Skan. We're more than that."

And it was like Australia all over again. He wanted to tell her to stop saying things that suggests double meaning because his emotions were tangled enough as it is and he didn't want one more thing to think about at night.

He regained composure. "Fine. What do you want?"

She rolled her eyes again, smiling. "I need to borrow your notes on Hamlet."

"Uh--" he cleared his throat. "It's upstairs."

And then, they were in his bedroom. He found himself wishing he'd bother to dump his laundry in the wash or in his wardrobe, at least, that morning or maybe even make up his bed. But this was Anna. She had slept in his trailer once because Will snored loudly in the trailer next to hers. And it's not like she hadn't stepped foot in his bedroom yet, either.

Then again, they hadn't been hanging out for a while now. And he could slightly feel like something had shifted between them.

Or maybe he was just assuming again.

He rummaged under his bed while she threw herself atop it, nuzzling her face into his pillows. He bit his lip.

When he found the notes, he waited a few more minutes before giving it to her.

"You do know, don't you, that Mum is going to murder me if she finds out her rum is gone?" He crossed his arms as he watched her busying herself in his kitchen, his notebook tucked in the back pocket of her trousers.

"She won't if she knew it was me," she replied casually and confidently, grinning at him.

Oh, right. He forgot how Please-Dear-Call-Me-Zelfa loves her.

"And besides," she took two plastic cups from the cupboard, half-filled them with rum, and offered one to him. "Shouldn't we be celebrating? You got into Cambridge."

"I'm not even going to bother to ask how you knew."

Skandar wasn't sure if it was minutes or hours later that they left the kitchen. He couldn't recall the various things they talked about. Except that they both only had a single shot of rum and he now couldn't blame the alcohol for what he did next.

Not that it was a spur of the moment thing. The fact that this was the first time they had hung out properly for months, nevermind that she initially got there for revision notes, and that she looked so naturally beautiful while leaning towards him against his kitchen table despite the dark shadows under her eyes, had nothing to do with it.

But it had been almost a year since Australia.

He just had to do something about it.

He asked her to be his date for the premiere.

And she said yes.

=

A/N:

Another quick note:

• Skandar started in Cambridge around October 2010.