Smile For Me (Student/Teacher)

Sweet Holiday

This is just a chapter to make up for posting late last week. I will still upload my next chapter on Wednesday, thank you for your patience.

Love you guys,

-cilla

On Christmas, Charlie was invited to see his family. "It's so damn soon." He grumbled rudely, fixing the collar on his shirt, looking back at himself in the mirror with a glare.

I sighed. "It is." I agreed. Just the previous day I got back, and we agreed to visit his family. It was very soon. "But it's a family holiday." I mentioned, seeming to only aggravate him more.

I decided to keep quiet, because I learned talking would only make him pissed off at me.

He growled at himself, throwing his hands down from his neck. "Let's go." He grumbled, turning without giving me a glance and heading the steps from his apartment door, me following close behind after locking it.

I slipped in the passenger's seat and thought to myself on the long and silent drive there. It came to me then and I tried to keep my cool when I asked, "Charlie?"

"Mn." He grunted in response. It was actually irritating me how he was acting.

"What... what do I tell them? If...-"

"What Diana," He groaned rudely, seeming extremely annoyed by me.

I rolled my eyes at him, "If you're gonna act like this the entire time, just turn around so we can go back." I told him tiredly.

He let out a breath, still seeming very irritated, but I watched his expression soften and he looked at me before turning back to the road. "Okay, sorry." He said. "What were you asking?"

I cleared my throat, trying to gain the confidence when I asked the awkward question, and cover up the tension that he built when he shot me an affectionate look. "What if they ask how old I am?" I finally said. Or how we met. But that would sound like we were together. "What if they ask about... You and me? Like, what we are?"

I finally looked at him and watched as he had a thoughtful look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. It made me wonder what it was he was deciding. When he stepped out of his trance, he ran a hand through his hair in preamble. "Well, if you're not comfortable with lying, just tell them you're eighteen."

I flushed, hearing how it bothered him by him just saying it.

"And, uh," He began, stretching his neck uncomfortably. "We can tell them, we're, uh..."

Together?

or

Friends?

"Friends?" He suggested lowly.

I let out a chuckle, trying to hold back whatever it was I was feeling. It hurt, but what could I expect? We weren't in a committed relationship, and suddenly I remembered Andy and didn't feel any better. "Okay, sounds good to me." I said, sitting back in my seat, then thinking. "How old should I say I am?" I asked, staring at the road in front of me curiously.

I saw from the corner of my eye him glancing at me. He smiled, and reached for my hand. "How old do you feel?" He asked.

I looked at him as soon as I sensed his smile, not wanting to miss a moment of it. "Sometimes I feel fifty. Sometimes I feel five."

He laughed, laughed, his beautiful laugh that made me blush, made me lace my fingers through his and have an urge to cuddle into him. "You can be twenty-three. Sometimes you act older, but sometimes you do act like a fucking five year old."