PERFECT│s.m

TWENTY FIVE

ANDREA

The rest of the trip was actually tolerable. And Simon and I strayed from more than a couple glasses of wine per night.

The night we shared together wasn't mentioned again, and our friendship didn't evolve into anything else. In fact, we basically pushed what happened aside and enjoyed our time with my family.

The last night of our trip soon came upon us, my parents planning to put on a fireworks display to wish us farewell. They always had to overdo everything.

I wrapped myself up in a blanket, and joined the others in the backyard. I stood by Simon, as he was on the end, an arm wrapping over my shoulders. We watched my dad set up the fireworks, a smile forming on my face as time was finally well spent back home. No fights, no negativity in general. It was so nice.

I let out a short scream when the first firework went off, giggling as I cuddled into Simon's chest. My father set off another one, and another, then eventually got to the big, and final, display.

This one went on longer, and I stood closer to Simon, sharing my blanket with him, as the chilled wind picked up. I gawked over the explosion of colors above our heads, admiring how gorgeous they looked in the night sky.

When the last one went off, Simon pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head, my parents cleaning up. I removed myself from Simon's body, but let him have the blanket. Even against the freezing breeze, I felt warm. Like the feeling of my life slowly coming together kept me at an appropriate temperature.

I looked back at Josh, my smile widening. He snapped another picture, which is what he'd been doing all night. I walk over to him and collapse against his body, giving him a tight hug. He was confused at first, but realized I just wanted to share my love with him. It was a typical thing I did.

♡♡♡

Before we left our parents' home, my mother separated from our hug and looked me dead in the eyes, not a hint of a playful mood in her tone. "Get a job when you get back, okay?" I nodded, saying I was actually waiting for a call back from the coffee shop. Then she bid us goodbye one last time, letting the taxi haul us back to the airport.

For once, I finally felt guilty for leaving them. Like it was my job to stay there and support them. I didn't know how to cope with this feeling, as it stuck with me until the next day, when we were back home and I had woken up in my own bed.

But it wasn't them I felt guilty of. It was Simon who made me feel guilty. We had shared such an intimate moment in that house, and seemed to have left it in the bedroom. I missed having him as my boyfriend. I missed his more than friendly love and his nicknames for me that weren't just my name shortened.

That afternoon, I lounged around the house with Freya, watching romance films and eating junk food. I felt empty. I didn't even pay my full attention to the screen.

My emotions were starting to catch up with me. I suddenly felt the growing sensation of love sickness. Why was I just now feeling this way? This was so sudden and unexpected.

With the feeling growing stronger, I told Freya I was feeling ill. She frowned and sent me to bed with a bucket beside it. For the rest of the evening, I laid in bed, starving. The need to cry tugging at my heart, but I just couldn't.

This emotion that was consuming my body was now unknown to me. It was as if I was frozen in place, abandoned and left to think of how much I loved Simon. But I couldn't tell him. No, the fear of rejection was too big.

Three days later, at midnight, I finally bucked up the courage. I called a taxi, telling them to speed to my destination or I'd fall apart and forget to do what needs to be done.

I paid the driver and stood quietly outside of the house, gazing up at it. A tear trickled down my cheek as I walked to the front door. I knocked, greeted by Vik, who questioned why I was there and what was wrong, drying my cheeks while doing so.

"I need Simon," I whimpered.