His hand is warm around mine, and I feel comphortable around him for the first time. It's silent, another good silent. I can only hear my heart pounding against my chest and the blood whipping through my veins. Then, I realise that I don't want to be holding hands like a couple. I feel like I'm in a chhesey love romance movie from the fourties. Amor. Bad kissing scenes. Love confessions to the extreme. It seems so...stupid. But despite all this hate of it, I still can't seem to let go of his hand.
"What's your favorite resturaunt?" I ask out of the blue.
"Huh?" He asks, probably wondering where that came from. He looks over at me.
"I'm just trying to create conversation." I say, shrugging.
"Hmmm... Probably Papadaux... You?"
"I guess the melting pot. I like fondu."
"Uh...What makes you laugh?"
"Oh." He says, "Probably just comedy, and stuff..." He smiles, probably thinking his answer was stupid. His eyes are sparkling. "What about you?"
"I don't know." I say shrugging.
"How do you not know?" He asks.
"You didn't know." I point out.
"But I gave an answer." he points out back.
"I don't know!" I say. worst conversation I've ever started. I think. "Uhhh...Jokes. I guess."
We sit in silence, and I feel awfully awkward. At the same time, I love this and I hate this.
"What's wrong?" He asks, sitting up.
"Nothing." I say, shaking my head. But I keep watching him.
More silence. More avoiding eye contact. More hating myself. More loving myself. A million things flash through my mind at once, but of course, I keep my lips tighter than my coat. I sigh and release my visible breath into the air, watching it dissapear into the thin, cold air.
After a minute or two, I pull my hand away. "Well...I'm gonna...go." I say, standing.
He stands along with me and shoves his empty hands into his pockets. He kicks up some snow and sighs, looking a little dissapointed. But, being the wierd distance keeper I am, I do nothing and step away from him.
I walk to the steps and he follows me. He watches me walk up the steps, and I feel like shutting the door in his face all of a sudden.
"Merry Christmas, love." He says with a smile.
"Go home." I say with a hint of unintentional venom in my voice. He just smiles and walks off.
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