“Since we’re scrapping the shoes, you party pooper, let’s talk about Christmas,” Marik said, face still holding leftover sleepiness from his nap.
“Christmas?” I checked my mobile, before looking back up. “It’s still over a week away.”
“A whole eight days, Bakura!” Marik poked a finger at me, unintentionally stepping forward in the motion. Both of us moved quickly backward when his foot neared mine.
An awkward silence hung briefly before Marik brushed it away. “Which means,” he went on, “I’ll need to find the tree, ornaments, mistletoe and last year’s leftovers. In a week.”
“Leftovers. By leftovers you mean—”
“Ham, biscuits and egg salad. I figured it’d be good to have next Christmas.” Beaming, the Egyptian drained his coffee. “I left the Christmas boxes in your attic last year, remember?”
“Now I know what that smell was.” I shuddered, rubbing my arms.
“I’ll pick up the stuff tomorrow.” Unperturbed, Marik shifted past me, body swinging mildly to something he was humming. “Okay?”
“Fine, but throw out the food—it’s all rotten now, Marik.”
“It doesn’t taste that bad! But if you hate it that much…”
“I certainly do, Ishtar.”
“Whatever,” Marik sing-songed back, fingers sliding down the doorframe before disappearing into the next room.
I stood there, watching where he had been. Christmas really was soon, and with it came mistletoe. Because poisonous plants apparently made people want to make out. It was the sort of nonsensical thing Marik liked.
Shaking my head, I started back to my room. There was no point in thinking anymore. It only made me hope for impossible things.
YOU ARE READING
Promise Me Nothing
FanfictionWhen Bakura and Marik move into a flat together, Bakura doesn't know what to expect. But what he gets is more than he ever thought possible.
