Crossing Boundaries [COMPLETE]

Thanksgiving Dinner

Apparently, Chris lodged his vacation bag at the Fosters. He claimed the guest room, to Tiffany's surprise. According to the persistent man, he would stay with her as a volunteer manny.

Tiffany thought about objecting but it would just be a total waste of time given Chris's stubborn nature. She simply lifted both her hands in the air when she found out.

After a few nibbles at lunchtime, both started to prepare for the supper next door. Celebrations at the Evanses were always relaxed so there's no reason to wear something fancy.

Tiffany originally went for denim pants and a dressy green sweater, her favorite color. But because she hadn't been healthy recently, the denim was too loose. She rummaged her closet again, realizing that her only option was a long-sleeved dress.

She took a blue knitted turtleneck one, the skirt section of which is semi-circular. She slipped it on and saw gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her weight loss was evident but this was loads better than a skinny pants that had lose areas when put on. She paired the dress with black thick tights and black non-heel boots.

Putting make up on was a toil for her at the moment, not that she loved fixing her face up anyway. Tiffany simply smeared a pale pink lip tint on her lips, sprayed some of her favorite scent at the back of her ears and some on her clothing, then grabbed a scarf, just in case the weather gets colder.

Although she let her brown hair down, she took a scrunchie. Her heavy footsteps down the stairs caused Chris to stir from his seat and just like how he was for the entire first day of his holiday vacation, he beamed at her. He took her in his gaze. Even when she's at her worst, her natural beauty still radiated. From her long brown hair that looked perfectly messy to her almost make-up-free face. For a moment, he forget he was staring then he cleared his throat. "Ready?"

Tiffany landed at the foot of the stairs. "Not just yet." Chris raised a brow. She absentmindedly grabbed his arms and pulled him to the path going to the basement. He had never been there before. He spent a lot of his childhood at the Fosters but that area was completely off limits.

He chuckled, nervously of course. Dark basement and old house spelled Amityville horror. "Damn, Foster! Are you going to torture me?"

She patted his back, quite hard to be honest. "Don't be dramatic, Evans." She started walking down the steps, her hand still pulling his arm. "I can't go celebrate with your family without bringing something."

"I doubt they need dust and fear and a monster," he kidded.

Tiffany rolled her eyes, "Ha-ha, Chris." When they reached the door to the basement, she held the knob and delayed a little. "Honestly Evans, how long have you been meaning to see this when we were kids?"

"Can't remember," he whispered, his mouth dangerously close to her lobe , his hot breath grazing skin at the back of her ear.

Tiffany brushed off the feeling of intimacy. She focused on theatrically opening the door. "Et voila!" Both their eyes expanded, hers because she was seeing a part of her father again, his was more due to the fact that he was staring at a magnificent wine cellar under a traditional house for the very first time.