some stories with some friends

the christmas theorem

Co-written with beamsoflight
Fandom: An Abundance of Katherines
Ship: Colin x Lindsey

I drove back.

After seven months, I found myself alone on the highway in the dead of night. Not really the best place to be two fugging days before Christmas. "Dead" is probably not a good term to use, either. Franz Ferdinand; apparently Lindsey's grandfather Fred N. Dinzanfar. I really wasn't expecting that one. Whatever.

213 days since I last saw Lindsey. 5,113.39 hours. Crap. She'll probably slap me when she first sees me. If she stills lives in Gutshot. Fugging hell. Twenty minutes until we find out, I guess.

I get out of my car, slamming the door. Light snowflakes drizzle down around my head, and I stare in surprise. I wasn't expecting any snow to fall, but I guess that's the fugging miracle of Christmas. The walk to Lindsey's front door is long and ominous, and the moment seems to stretch for all eternity. I don't want to think about the "you-promised-me-you'd-call-you-stupid-shithead-genius-you-promised-you'd-text-but-you-never-did" lecture and/or slap I am definitely going to be getting from my girlfriend.

I breathe. Well, I mean, I usually breathe anyway but...I actually suck in a breath of icy cold air, and fuggin breathe. Because people say stuff like "Breathe your words." I have no idea what that means, but I really, really don't want to find out whatever consequence I have for being an idiot. My eyes glance over the surroundings, even though it's practically pitch black. Okay, it's not black. But it's fuggin dark.

Oh god. Here we go.

It takes like all the strength (or lack thereof) I have to bring my hand to the door, knocking three times. The silence only grows heavier and time literally stops. I can feel my heart pounding in my ears. Or maybe that's the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs or something. Either way, it's suspenseful.

The door flies open, and for a terrifying moment I think it's going to fly off its hinges. "I got it, Hollis!" A familiar voice shouts. Then the girl turns her head towards me, and I'm surprised the whole freaking universe doesn't implode from the sheer shock radiating off the two of us. Lindsey's eyes go wide with surprise at the sight of me. I'm pretty sure my expression mirrors hers; the whole moment feels so surreal, and I can't believe that she's actually in front of me. She's real she's here she's real oh god she's fugging real she's here oh god it's Lindsey my Lindsey she's here she's alive I have a girlfriend she's real.

Well, scratch the whole "girlfriend" part. I'm not sure if I even still have a girlfriend; seven months is a fugging long time, and for all I know, she could be engaged to Colin-17 or something. She could be totally happy in an existence that doesn't involve me.

But then she jumps onto me, and her arms are around me, clutching my upper back, and my fingers wrap around her waist, and she's burrowing her face in the crook of my neck, and we're hugging and oh god it's Lindsey I'm hugging Lindsey I love Lindsey oh god help me.

Lindsey Lindsey Lindsey. She smelled like chocolate and waffles man I don't know she smelled like the most comforting thing in the world and she was so fuggin warm that my frostbitten fingers could actually move and that's when I realized just how much I missed her. I know we only knew each other for like a few weeks and we decided hey maybe I'll be her second Colin and she'll be my first Lindsey.

But I think, I think, I really think I love her more than anagrams and calculus and graphs and theorems.

After an eternity, she pulls away from me and stares deep into my eyes. I kind of want to eat her face, but it's so fugging good to just look at her. I stand there, drinking her in; seven months of me being an idiot, seven months of not hearing her voice or seeing her face have taken their toll.