Vigilant | N.H.

Four.

December 23rd, 2015.

For most of my life, there was darkness and the uncertainty of not knowing what comes next.

The bright sun vibrantly peeks through the sheer, white curtains. I roll over to my right, finding myself wrapped up in the white satin sheets of a familiar stranger's bed.

Fuck.

I hurry up and throw on my clothes that were violently stripped off of me just a few short hours ago and quickly scurry over to the door, trying to not make any noise.

Ugh, I definitely need to go to confession after the events of last night.

"Leaving without saying goodbye, love?" the recognizable accent calls out from the master bathroom. The only thing covering his body is a white towel that's wrapped around his waist. I turn my head the other way, not wanting to invade his privacy.

"So shy now, aren't you? Strange, considering how confident you were last night...it's okay to look, it's not like it's anything you haven't seen before." His smart remarks linger in my mind, leaving me lost in words.

I quickly gather my thoughts and manage to form a sentence. "I-I'm sorry, I wasn't sure you wanted me here when you woke up," I mumble in a low voice.

"I don't," he says as he runs his hands through his messy, blonde hair, inching closer to me.

"You can go now."

"I know I can," I nod.

"Well if you're waiting for me to say goodbye you better grab yourself a fold-out chair because you're going to be here for a while."

Aw, so cranky in the morning.

I shake my head in agreement and let out a subtle "goodbye" as I walk down the hall I once stumbled through earlier. I don't look back because that's not who I am anymore.

What's in the past is done and over with, and what's done and over with can't be changed, so why bother?

I will admit, though, last night was incredible.

I order an Uber and within a few minutes, I'm on my way back to the apartment. I briefly text Delaney only to tell her I'm on my way—I'm saving the details for later.

"Thank you," I tell the blonde woman in the front seat of the car. I practically sprint to my room, partially because I know Delaney's dying to know what happened, and also because I hate walking by alone.

It's terrifying.

I burst through the door as she throws herself onto me screaming, "Bitch if you don't spill right now!"

I laugh as we make our way over to the sitting area, plopping myself down like my legs couldn't bear my own body weight anymore.

"Having trouble walking I see-" I cut her off with a gentle shove to her shoulder. "I was just saying," she defends her comment.

"Were you though?" I question.

"Tell me everything, and don't skip any details, I mean any," she demands.

"Ok, well, we were going to do it in this backroom area of the club, but he said the noise was 'giving him a headache', so he said he couldn't do it anymore. I understood that he didn't want to, but he didn't mean that, he just meant he wanted to go home, and for me to come along. So that's when I texted you that we were going back to his place, and thank you for making sure I wasn't going to get murdered, by the way, and it all escalated from there. We couldn't keep our hands off of each other, and honestly, just being in his presence was enough to have me wrapped around his finger."

"Oh no, I mean that's all good, but you...you being wrapped around someone's finger? That doesn't happen, like ever—who the hell is this guy, Houdini?" Her eyes go wide and she scratches her head, confused by how it could happen.

Trust me, nobody is more confused than me.

"It was just a one-night stand though, so it didn't mean anything. Besides, I move on quickly, so he'll be forgotten by tomorrow," I instantly brush it off.

"That's true," she responds. "But only because you learned from the best."

In case you haven't caught on, we're quite narcissistic.

We dive into the details of the night like we're still teenagers in high school, desperate to gossip. By the time I'm finished, her jaw is on the floor.

"Holy fuck, where can I find myself a Niall? This man sounds incredible."

"He is, but he's also a massive dick," I inform her.

"Yeah, with a massive dick-" I cut her off with the death stare. "Sorry, you know I'm right." I nod in agreement, only because I'm not one to deny the truth. I fill her in on everything that happened early in the morning but she didn't have too much to say about it.

"He seems like a douche but it was only a one-time thing—even though that doesn't justify it, at least you'll probably never see him again," she attempts to ease my mind, but it doesn't work.

I think I'm going fucking insane because I want to see him again.

"Let's go bake some Christmas cookies," she suggests. "I just went to the store, so we have everything we need now."

I love Christmas, it's my favorite holiday—I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm religious, and I love going to Christmas mass. The scents, the constant feeling of joy, the atmosphere, the big family meals—I love all of it. Every year, my mom and I would make sugar cookies from scratch. I'm gonna miss spending the holidays with her, but I'm excited to create new traditions with my best friend.

The flour spills everywhere, making a huge mess of the kitchen.

"This is why we can't have nice things," I look up at Delaney. Her cheeks are rosy from the embarrassment of not being able to hold a simple flour bag.

She scoops her hand into the portion of flour that's still left in the bag and tosses it in the air.

"Tis the season."
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