Headlights

06 Flash

Last December, we were built to fall apart.

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She waited for him yet again. It was Christmas Eve already, and she couldn't wait to take down her Christmas tree, just for the sake of better organization in her house. She was getting tired of the tree, whether it was miniature or not, taking up the corner in her living room, which was already cramped by her many bookshelves. Maybe she could get Calvin to help her with cleaning up. She might as well teach him a lesson in cleanliness at the same time.

The doorbell rang. She looked at the clock again. He was only five minutes late, which was a major improvement from the first time he picked her up. She grabbed her purse and jacket from her sofa and headed out.

"Hey," she said as she settled into the car, making sure none of his flyers flew out of the door before she shut it. "When do you think you're getting rid of these?"

He barely looked at them. "Never. Aren't you going to greet me first?" Without letting her respond, he leaned over and kissed her, cupping her chin gently. When he was done, she had lost track of everything that she meant to say to him earlier. Sighing, she closed the door and put on her seatbelt.

The road to his apartment was familiar to her now. In the dark, she watched the buildings pass by with some interest, the graffiti a blur of colors that she wished she could read. She didn't understand why Calvin didn't find the story behind the colors fascinating the way she viewed them—she was alone in that. But she couldn't fix his views now. Especially not now when she knew him this way.

They arrived and parked with little ceremony. She joined him in the elevator, where he took her hand and squeezed it, as if to say, Don't worry; you're with me now. She appreciated it, so, so much more than he would ever know.

He led her out of the elevator into the hallway, where he paused to unlock the door. As soon as he was done, she rushed into the apartment in a flurry, throwing herself onto his couch. He came after her, seating himself more leisurely, and slung an arm over her shoulders. "I'm beginning to think that you only want my couch. That's a little insulting."

She popped a big, sloppy kiss on his lips. "Don't worry, babe. There's plenty of space for you in my heart."

He rolled his eyes, but she knew he cared.

She cared too.

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They were in his bed now. She didn't know how long they had taken, but she didn't need to know. She was tired enough already. Opening her eyes, she kissed his chest and relaxed on her side. "So?"

He turned his head to the clock on his nightstand. "We should have waited, Hay. It's only ten. What are we supposed to do now?"

"Plenty of things. We can start again..."

"You're starting to sound like me, babe. That's not a good thing."

She smiled and sat up, slipping her legs from the covers. Turning her back to him and slipping on a sweater—his sweater—she said, "Do you want dinner? I can order some takeout right now if you want."

"No, come on"—he pulled her back in bed—"are you really hungry anyway? We can start over again..."

"Stop repeating me."

"Stop repeating me."

She rolled her eyes and acquiesced, slinging her arm over his chest. "We've got to do something else eventually."

"We are." He reached out to the nightstand. "I've got—"

"I'm being serious, Calvin."

He rolled his eyes this time, taking out a camera. "You really don't trust me, do you?" He snapped a picture of her right there. She spent a couple seconds blinking from the flash before reacting by snatching it from him.