Matthew Gray Gubler Short Stories - Christmas Edition

I Wanna Kiss You So #4

Christmas ain't fun if your heart don't feel young.

I guess I'll always believe that there's a big kid in me.

Snowballs whizzed past you as you ducked and dived trying to avoid them. It was Christmas time and, instead of being back home in Australia where it was sunny and hot, you had joined your best friend Matthew on the set of his new film over in London for a week before you flew back to America together (and then onto Australia for you) to rejoin your families. All five of you were reveling in the vast amount of snowfall the weather had blessed the streets of London with. You were on a team with two of his male co-stars against him and the producer - whose name you had already forgotten - trying to prove that you were an asset to them and not just "useless" because you threw "like a girl". Damn right you did; you were a girl. Your team were focusing on taking down the producer as your eyes locked with Matthew's. You narrowed your eyes at him; it was on. You ducked behind the nearest car in order to stall him as you made a couple of large snowballs.

Just in time, as well, for Matthew had already launched one at you. You heard a loud "thud" as it hit the window on the side closest to him.

You peaked your head around the front of the car as you tried to go undetected and spied your target. Luckily he hadn't seen you. You leaped up, hurling your first snowball at him. Crouching back down, you looked over the bonnet to see what kind of impact you had had. You laughed; you had managed to hit Matthew square in the head, the snow instantly breaking apart as it struck him and fell apart in his hair. He was too busy looking angry that he didn't realise where it had come from. You snickered, taking this opportunity to throw another at him and it hit him roughly in the same spot.

This time, though, he saw you and immediately charged at you, picking up snow as he went along. You yelled at your team for help but they had long forgotten the game and were now watching from the sidelines with the producer. Traitors. You ran like lightning away from him still holding some of your ammo, zig-zagging out of his way and dodging everything he threw at you. He was gaining on you fast, and would practically be on your heels did he not stop to pick up snow every few paces. You called out again for your so-called friends to help you to no avail. They laughed, feebly throwing snow in your direction to throw you off. Bastards. It was no longer a fun game but rather an attempt at ganging up on you – even if they couldn't be bothered running after you and just pelted you from the sidelines.

You turned to look over your shoulder and saw that Matthew was getting closer and closer. He threw a snowball at you and it narrowly missed your right leg. You weaved in and out of parked cars, dodging snow like a trained police officer would bullets. You weren't so lucky the next time as a block of chilly, white compressed powder hit your back. You squealed. You had to come up with a plan. And then it struck you. Literally. You fell to the ground, winded from the hit. You heard a few gasps and the others calling out, asking if you were alright.

Now was the time to act. You quickly dropped the balls of snow to the ground.

"Oww!" you feigned pain as you pulled your knee up to your chest, your hands clamped tight around it.

Matthew's mouth dropped open and within a blink he was running towards you, skidding on ice as he went.

He dropped to his knees beside you. "Are you OK? I swear I didn't mean to hurt you."

You pretended to cry, fake tears trickling down your face slowly. "I don't think I can get up."

His face turned ghostly pale. He turned to call the other guys over and as he did, you grabbed a snowball, smashing it down on his head. He looked at you stunned and you stuck your tongue out at him as you jumped up and sprinted towards the others. This was too much fun.