everyone has a story to tell.
akansha's has something to do with snowflakes, a little bit to do with what's written in the stars and a lot to do with fate.
Dedicated to my first online friend, Lauren- for showing me that stories can be poetic too { tranquilstars }
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His bedroom was dark unlike the rest of the house which was brightly lit with fairy lights and candles on candelabras. This room was only lit by a small lamp by the bed and the bright orange light from the fire. The smell of roasted turkey wafted from the kitchen but it didn't overpower the citrusy scent of the room itself.
The room was quite neat for a guy's room. The duvet was neatly folded and the photo frames were arranged in an orderly manner on the mantel over the small fireplace.
My mauve heels were silent against the carpeted floor as I walked towards the heat source of the space. I held my wine red dress against my thighs, away from the fire as I scanned the pictures in the photo frames.
There was one of us together, taken on my first snow day. My nose was red and my cheeks were flushed. Stefan had called me Rudolph throughout the winter season and I had simply called him Too-Tan-Snowman as his tan skin never lost its colour even on the coldest of days. I remember how happy I was despite the biting winter air and my runny nose.
A few more pictures were of him with his friends from middle school to college. The rest were of his family.
A particular picture stood out to me. It had a homemade frame made out of pine cones, fir leaves and a ton of glitter. The small signature and noted date at the corner of the frame told me it was made by a much younger version of Valentina, Stefan's sister.
The picture was of four of them. Their parents were seated on their couch which has been inherited by three generations, according to Stefan. Seven year old Valentina had pigtails and was nestled comfortably in her mother's lap. Stefan himself looked about ten and was sitting on the arm of the couch with his dad's arm slung over his shoulder.
They looked so happy that my happiness in the picture with Stefan fades in comparison. My heart twisted with guilt.
Silent footfalls approached me from behind. An arm snaked around my waist and drew me close. He kissed my earlobe then slowly worked his way to my shoulder.
"Feeling nostalgic?" Stefan asked. He probably meant the picture of us.
"I was just looking at your pictures. You were adorable, Stef," I turned and smiled at him.
He touched his forehead to mine. "I'm sure you were too."
I snorted. "I wish."
Stefan just looked at me with his intense green eyes. Then he abruptly stepped away from me.
I felt cold all of a sudden, the source of my warmth pulled away from me. My throat suddenly felt as dry as the Sahara desert. "What's wrong, Stef?" I could only manage a rasp.
"Nothing," he said quietly. He put his hands into his pocket and just looked down at his shoes. After a few seconds, he looked up. "Seriously! Nothing's wrong," he said in a surprised tone.
"Alright..." I was uncertain.
"Really, Snowflake," he smiled. "I just realised I wouldn't get to see you as I do now, work and all. I would really miss you."
"We do have cellphones for a reason," I said. I couldn't keep the relief from showing in my voice.
He smiled but it wasn't wide enough to show his dimples.
"You should go back to your party," I said. "Continue unwrapping your graduation presents. Knowing you, I know you only unwrapped the two cars in your driveway with big bows on them."
He laughed softly. "Alright. Though the present that I am really looking forward to hasn't been given to me yet," he said, pointedly looking at me.
"Right. I should warn you; it's either priceless or worthless," I said. I gently closed his eyes shut with a light touch.
Since I made him promise not to spend money on me, he decided it should apply both ways. It had been extremely difficult trying to get something that would mean something to him amongst all the expensive gifts he received from his rich family members without spending a single dime.
"Nothing from you is worthless," he murmured. His eyes were closed so I couldn't see if he was telling the truth but I do hope so.
I took a deep breath and stepped closer to him, leaving only an inch between us. Then before I lost my courage, I pressed my lips to his.
I was taken aback by how it felt. How I felt.
His lips was warm and tasted of mint. His hands wrapped themselves around my waist and mine locked around his neck pulling him down slightly. Sparks flew in every direction, and the world was slowly disappearing around us, along with all of my worries, my troubles and my problems. He made me feel like none of that mattered. It was a small yet warm kiss. I honestly never knew a kiss so innocent could be so intimate and electrifying.
I hesitantly looked up at him, afraid of what reaction my sudden gesture would get. The swirls of emotion I saw in his eyes made my heart skip a beat. However, before I could ponder about it further, he yanked me to him. As our lips crushed together, I felt like I was walking on air. It was magic, the way his lips connected with mine. His mouth was so warm, the caress of his lips softer than I could have imagined.
When we broke apart for air, I rested my forehead against his and gathered some much needed oxygen. My first kiss was everything I expected and more.
"That was definitely not worthless," he said, followed by a shakey, breathless laugh.
I started to laugh when something over his shoulder caught my eye; his family photo.
He looked so happy with his whole family, his father. A glance at him told me he was happy with me too but will he still feel the same way about me once he finds out I'm going to kill his father?
