When Sparks Fly |l.m|

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I've never been one that really looks forward to the holidays

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I've never been one that really looks forward to the holidays. Well, not for a few years now, it's mostly for the food. So as I take down the decorations to help my family with the tree, I'm not exactly feeling the spirit. I hand down boxes of ornaments with a grunt, finally being on the last one. "Oh, do you mind picking that up? My hands are full" my uncle says as he heads into the house.

I sigh tiredly and agree, stepping down off the ladder and putting it away. My eyes trace over the ground until I find the item that fell. I pick it up, turning it over and noticing that it's a polaroid. More specifically, one of me and a particular blonde I used to date. Louise Miller. It was taken around this time last year, us beaming in front of the tree.

Our smiles are almost brighter than the lights...

"Come on baby, we're gonna miss dinner!" I exclaim as she holds my waist and continues kissing me all over, making me giggle. "Mm, just a few more... minutes" she whispers, pulling me in closer.

It's hard to believe we were ever that happy. "I remember her! Whatever happened? She was such a nice girl" I hear and I smile sadly. "Well, people grow apart" I lie, simply for the sake of preserving my family's memories of her. I sigh as I place the picture in my coat pocket, planning to discard of it later. "I think I'll go out for a bit but I'll be back later" I say, not waiting for a response.

As I drive, I can't help but think of all the precious time we spent together. We were practically inseparable, no one could stand between me and her. It was us against the world, I truly believed that at the time. When we broke up, things never felt the same. Any memory I made with her felt tainted, a simple dot on a map became dreadful when I remembered the ties we had to certain places.

I tried convincing myself I was no longer in love with her and I succeeded for a while. Yet, like most things, it never really went away; it was simply channeled into something else. Looking back, I can't believe she played me like that. I should've known, I should've been smarter but I just couldn't see it. Though it was clear as day: the infamous player never could've loved me.

As I arrive at the quaint little bar, I park and take a breath before getting out. I pull my coat tighter around me, wishing for warmer days or rather warm arms. I enter the building, shivering a bit at the change of temperature. I immediately make my way to the counter, ordering my typical drink. I shrug off my coat and think, if nothing else, the alcohol will warm me up.

I think as I sip, realizing that—even though I may always love her—she doesn't have a hold on me anymore. Though, if that's the case, why do I find myself wondering what she's doing right now? I don't have to wonder long as I spot the familiar blonde out the corner of my eye. As much as I try not to look at her, I can't help but notice those toned arms.

As usual, she seems to be flirting up some cute girl who giggles at everything she says. I toss back my drink, asking for another, knowing I'll need it. A few minutes pass of me lost in thought before the woman of the hour sits next to me. "I thought it was you... well, how could I not recognize you" she mumbles, "Louise" I state plainly.

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