As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the snow-dusted streets, slight snow fall began to come around us. Your gaze lingered on the snowflakes falling softly, and I found myself stealing glances at you, wondering how someone could seem so at ease in a moment like this. There was something calming about just being with you, and in this little park.

"So, there's this small thing..." I began, my voice a little more hesitant than I intended. "We're having a Christmas party at the café. Nothing fancy-just a few of us regulars, some food, and probably way too much to drink." I shrugged, trying to sound casual, even though my heart was racing a little. There was something about the idea of you being there, sharing that space, that made me feel like I had to ask.

You paused, looking at me with that easy, familiar smile playing at your lips. "A Christmas party, huh?" There was a playful light in your eyes, like you were amused but also genuinely curious.

"Yeah," I nodded, trying to downplay just how much I wanted you to say yes. "It's not much, but it's... fun. You know, cosy."

"You want me to come?" you asked, tilting your head slightly, your tone softer now, more direct.

I blinked, feeling my cheeks warm slightly. "Yeah, I mean... if you've got something else planned, that's totally fine-"

"I'll come." Your smile deepened as you leaned back, arms crossing loosely over your chest, completely at ease.

"Huh?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, it sounds like just the kind of thing I'd enjoy tonight. Plus, you don't need to ask a college student twice to come to a party with drinks." Your grin widened, and the playful spark in your eyes made my heart skip.

You showed up, of course. It was a warm, cosy affair, filled with laughter, the glow of fairy lights, and the scent of mulled wine and cinnamon. I introduced you to everyone as my plus one. You greeted my friends with a friendly smile, your polite manners making an instant impression. They were quick to notice the charm you carried so effortlessly-your handsome looks, those deep and contemplative eyes that seemed to hold entire worlds.

The compliments came easily, and though you accepted them with a humble nod, I could see the slight flush that coloured your cheeks. You seemed to shy away from the praise, your gaze occasionally drifting to me as if seeking reassurance or perhaps a hint of what to say next. When someone asked if we were together, your face turned an even deeper shade of red, a rich hue that spread across your cheeks and up to your ears. It was adorable, and I couldn't help but suppress a smile at your reaction. You shook your head quickly, a definite no, but the way you glanced at me told a different story.

I couldn't help but drag you around the room, introducing you to everyone with a kind of possessive pride that felt oddly satisfying. Each time I took your hand or rested a hand on your shoulder, it felt like a small victory, a moment where I could hold onto you and keep you close. The sensation of your warmth beside me was a comfort, a grounding presence in the midst of the chaos.

Mr. Bonigo and his wife liked you a lot, I could tell. They were the old couple who owned the café, the ones who had been like family to me. As the evening wore on, I caught them exchanging knowing glances while you were talking with some of my friends.

"He's spoken about you so often." The moment Mr. Bonigo got to steal you from the others, he sold me off with no remorse. That was embarrassing to say the least.

You chuckled, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks. "I hope he's said nice things," you said looking at me, your eyes soft and filled with a mix of amusement and something I couldn't quite comprehend.

The clock inched toward midnight, and the energy in the room shifted, a palpable excitement building as everyone prepared for the moment. Beneath the mistletoe, an elderly couple shared a tender kiss as the clock struck twelve, their lips brushing softly in the glow of fairy lights. Applause erupted around them, the sound mingling with cheers and laughter, encapsulating all the love and warmth of the season.

I found myself pausing, caught in the sweetness of the scene, my heart squeezing in a way that was both painful and pleasant. I glanced over at you, and you were watching them too, a soft smile playing on your lips. Oh, how I wished it were- I could catch myself before the thought fully formed, a pang of longing gripping my heart. It felt so intimate, so close yet so far.

The party grew louder and more chaotic and I felt the effects of all the various liquors I'd gulped down catch up with me. The laughter and clinking of glasses melded into the upbeat music blasting through the room, creating a symphony of joy that felt infectious. Suddenly, someone dragged me along with them, and I couldn't help but join the fray, laughter spilling from my lips as I moved to the rhythm.

The makeshift dance floor swelled with energy, people swaying and spinning, their spirits high. In the midst of it all, I caught sight of you in a quieter corner, watching the chaos unfold. You were an oasis of calm amid the whirlwind, a warm smile still gracing your face, your eyes bright with amusement. At some point, our eyes met across the room, and your smile widened, lighting up your face in a way that made my heart flutter. It was like a magnet that gravity couldn't rival to keep me in place.

I pushed my way through the throng of bodies, navigating the sea of laughter and swaying limbs until I finally reached you. Without a word, I grabbed your hand, tugging you gently but insistently toward the dance floor.

"Hey, I can't dance!" you protested, laughter lacing your voice.

"What?" My voice came out an octave higher, a desperate attempt to rival all the noise around us. Your laughter danced in the air, and it made you lean in closer, your breath fanning against my ear, cool amidst the heat radiating from the crowd.

A shiver ran down my spine at the sensation, my breath hitching for a moment as the proximity intensified. I fought to keep my composure, but it was a losing battle. The warmth of your body, the way you filled the space between us, felt intoxicating, almost dizzying.

You seemed a lot more sober than I was, and I couldn't help but wonder how you managed it. I'd shared every shot I'd taken with you, yet you appeared steady, grounded, while I felt the intoxicating buzz coursing through my veins.

"You go dance. I'll just watch." You whispered in my ear.

But I wasn't going to take no for an answer. I pulled you closer, forcing you to step into the rhythm of the music. As the beat thumped around us, the air thick with energy, I started to sway my hips playfully, encouraging you to join me. With a reluctant grin, you started to move, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement.

I spun you around, pulling you close again, the heat between us palpable. Our eyes held each other's gaze, and I felt an undeniable thrill coursing through me. The way you moved, your body in sync with mine, sent a rush of adrenaline through my veins. We danced slowly-my fingers grazing your waist, your smile inviting me to draw closer.

"You're quite the dancer, aren't you?" you whispered, leaning in closer, your lips nearly brushing my ear. The warm breath against my skin sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help the smirk rising to my face.

"Oh, you have no idea," I replied, my voice low and playful. You really didn't have any idea.

You followed my lead, the initial awkwardness fading as you found your groove. I could see the spark of confidence igniting in your eyes, a playful smirk forming on your lips as you mirrored my movements. It became less about the music and more about the connection, the way our bodies responded to each other.

I leaned closer, letting my body brush against yours, guiding you with my movements. Your hesitation melted away, and we began to sway in a more seductive rhythm, our bodies weaving together in a dance that felt both intimate and electric.

At some point, the wine and exhaustion intertwined, pulling me into a cocoon of plush warmth. I wasn't sure how I ended up on a beanbag in a corner, napping like a baby, but the worn, soft fabric wrapped around me like a comforting hug, disconnecting me from the outside world.

I had no idea the vibrant energy of the party had faded into a distant hum, the music and laughter merely whispers against the backdrop of my dreams until I felt your hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me back to consciousness.

"Hey, hey..." your voice called softly, breaking through the haze.

"Um-uh-mm," I mumbled, still half in slumber.

"Wake up. We need to go home."

I stirred, disoriented, blinking against the soft glow of the Christmas lights that seemed to wrap around you like an aura. You were crouched beside me, framed perfectly, and in that moment, you looked almost ethereal.

"Home? Oh, right. I need to go home," I mumbled, the words slipping out thick and slow, my mind still tangled in the fog of sleep.

You hesitated, a flicker of concern shadowing your features. "You missed your last bus."

Panic surged through me at the realization. The thought of braving the chilly night alone felt like an insurmountable task.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, the edge of anxiety creeping into my voice.

"Oh, I did. More times than just once," you said with a soft chuckle, the sound soothing yet teasing. "You were too busy talking about going home with me."

"Haha, it's not funny. Man, is it snowing outside?" I tried to redirect the conversation, glancing around the mess of the party, which now seemed like a dreamscape-fleeting and ephemeral.

Friends had drifted into various states of repose, their forms sprawled across couches and floors. Decorations hung askew, their vibrant colors muted under the dim light, while wine stains and food spills painted chaotic patterns across the carpet. The air was thick with the mingled scents of mulled wine and the sharp tang of the cold outside.

"I'm not joking. You can come home with me," you said, your voice firm yet tender, cutting through my dazed thoughts.

The unexpected kindness made me pause, your offer as warm as the embrace of the beanbag I'd just left. I looked up at you, my mind still clouded, but the sincerity in your eyes pierced through the fog, grounding me.

"You sure?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady despite the vulnerability of the moment.

"You really didn't have to do this, you know," I said, my voice a little quieter now as the wine started to wear off. "I probably could've just grabbed a cab."

You waved it off. "Nah, it's fine. It's no trouble. Plus I live just around the corner." You grinned, your tone teasing. "Besides, who else am I gonna walk around with at this time of night?"

I laughed softly, the tension from earlier slowly melting away, replaced by the comfort of your easygoing nature. It was strange-how quickly this all felt natural, how walking beside you in the cold, quiet night sounded like something I should have had on my bucket list for a while now.

We stepped out into the chilly night, the streets quieter now, the city wrapped in a blanket of stillness. The pavement glistened under the streetlights, the remnants of melted snow reflecting the warm golden glow. We walked side by side, our footsteps echoing in the silence, and as we passed through the city, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. It felt like we had done this a hundred times before.

"So, what's your usual post-party routine?" you asked, pocketing your hands in your coat to avoid the biting winter breeze. "Mine usually involves bad TV and leftover pizza, but that's not exactly guest-friendly."

I laughed, watching my breath frost in front of my eyes. "I'm not too different. Though sometimes I'll throw on a movie I've seen a million times just to wind down. Something familiar, you know?"

You nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense. I've got this playlist I put on when I need to unwind. Super cheesy stuff-'80s ballads, old love songs. It's kind of embarrassing, but it works."

I raised an eyebrow, grinning. "I'm gonna need to hear that playlist someday."

"Oh, it'll happen," you said with a smirk. "Next time you're over, I'll even serenade you."

My eyes widened slightly in surprise, caught off guard by how casually you said it. Your smile faltered for a moment, a shadow passing over your face. "Sorry if that came out... not so appropriate."

I quickly waved it off. "Oh, no, absolutely not. I'd actually like to hear a bard sing sometime."

Your smile returned, and it turned into a heartfelt laugh. I felt oddly relieved that the playful ease between us was back. We walked on, talking about everything and nothing-like your Fortnite ranks or the last movie you watched. I gushed about the anime I was obsessed with, and you joked about needing recommendations. Our words were punctuated by the sound of our steps on the slick pavement, blending with the night.

As we rounded a corner or two, we reached a small parking lot, the kind that always seemed a little too empty, a little too lonely. I glanced up at the sky, where a lone star shone brightly against the dark canvas. The night felt vast, open, like there was so much left unsaid.

I thought again of the couple from the party, how they had kissed under the Christmas tree, so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And then the words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Sometimes I wish I had someone to kiss me like that."

The moment hung between us, and I instantly regretted saying it aloud. I wasn't even sure you had heard me, but then I felt you stop walking. Turning to face you, I saw the same tension from earlier flicker in your eyes.

There was a beat of silence, the air suddenly feeling charged, the stillness of the night amplifying every sound-our breaths, the distant hum of the city, the subtle shift in your stance.

"I could make that come true," you said, your voice quieter now but filled with certainty.

I blinked, stunned. Did I just hear that right? Another blink, and suddenly, I found myself standing in front of you, the space between us shrinking.

We were close—so close I could see the way your hair fell slightly over your forehead, the soft flush that had crept into your cheeks from the cold. I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. My thoughts were tangled.

The world narrowed to just this moment-the quiet street, the soft glow of the streetlamp above us, and you. The space between us buzzed with something electric, something I didn't quite understand, but could feel deep in my bones.

I wasn't sober enough to resist that feeling, nor was I sure if I wanted to. With no more thoughts, I closed the gap between us, my heart racing as our lips met.

The kiss was soft, tentative, like we were both testing the waters. The taste of wine and peppermint mingled on our lips, and the world tilted, everything around us fading into the background. The way your lips moved on mine sparked warmth in my chest in a way that it made time slow down. I felt alive, more awake than I had all night.

I had imagined this moment so many times before, wondered what it would feel like to finally kiss you. But nothing compared to the way you tasted, the way your hands lightly grazed my jaw, pulling me closer. It was like a switch had flipped, like something between us had finally come undone. The electricity, the tension—it all made sense now.

When we pulled apart, the air around us crackled with something new. You smiled, that same smile you'd flash at me over the counter at the café. 

Your forehead pressed against mine, your voice low and teasing, "You know, I've been waiting for you to do that for a while now."

My heart skipped. "What?"

You just chuckled softly, fingers tracing the side of my face.

"You–what?" I repeated, completely caught off guard.

Your lips curved into a grin, "Yeah... Thought I'd never get a chance."

Then you kissed me again, harder this time.