How to love

twenty-nine: Realisation

"My clothes for work are perfectly fine, thank you." I huff at her, still remaining in my childish stance. "I'm not wearing that because one, it leaves little to the imagination and two, it's almost minus out there and I don't think I want to start the new year with hypothermia."

She rolls her eyes. "One;" she mocks as I poke out my tongue. "You can wear this with a jacket over it and two, isn't that what we're aiming for? Letting lover boy's imagination get the better of him so you two can finally move past the flirtatious glances and separate bedrooms. Now come on, lets go."

I snatch the outfit from her hands with a growl. "Stop calling him lover boy. He's my boss."

"That you kissed."

"That was a mistake." He said so. "There is nothing between Jason and I. Infact, I'm not interested anymore. I'm actually going to start looking at new apartments next week, keeping our relationship strictly professional and never swaying outside of the office walls. I don't need a man."

Suddenly, the cheeky smirk that I had came to know all too well from we were teenagers and that often lead us into heaps of trouble during our school days, appears on her lips. She cocks her hip with folded arms and tilts her head to the side.

"Oh yeah?" She challenges. "Prove it. Wear that then if you don't want his attention and if his head doesn't turn, then fine, there's nothing between you two and I'll shut up and even help you look for a apartment."

Her glossed lips didn't twitch and she wasn't intimidated by my narrowed eyes and slight scowl. My thumbs rub against the lace, nose wrinkling at the thin fabric that was surely going to show more than I was comfortable with and I sighed.

Less than three hours later, I itched and wriggled as the lace scrapes my skin. Huffing, I thread a thick belt through the high-waisted black jeans and snatch my heels from beside the bathroom door of Hannah and Tommy's hotel room. They had paid to stay in the city tonight knowing that hailing a taxi would be like finding water in the desert. I check my phone, frowning before I push it into the back pocket of my jeans.

Why had I expected anything from Jason when I left in such a mood this morning? Why would he contact me when I snapped at him? But then, why would he not contact me to let me know if he was not coming tonight?

"Will you please stop, you're going to crease your makeup if you keep frowning like that." Hannah says, she hands me the champagne flute filled with bubbly liquid before sipping at her own. "If he doesn't show up, then who cares? He's missing out."

I roll my eyes. "He most definitely isn't missing anything. I just, well I thought he would at least let me know if he wasn't making it."

Hannah shrugs on her faux fur coat, shielding her upper half of the bitter cold but leaving her tanned legs exposed. Following behind Hannah and Tommy, my gut wretched at their perfect relationship. Their hand holding, their shared giggles and stolen kisses. Tommy's protectiveness as he pulls her close to his side as we push through the gathering crowds.

I wanted that.

I wanted that with Jason.

Tears blurred my vision and a small and faint gasp escaped my lips. The realisation had hit me hard, it had kicked my in the stomach and shook my heart. It was finally free from the little box that had been buried and it was able to scream at me.

I was in love with Jason.

The celebrations had begun, everyone surrounding me on the crowded street was smiling, laughing and sharing the happiness and here I stood, ruining the hour long work and thick layered mask Hannah had applied only hours before. But I couldn't focus on anything but him.

That sweet little, one cheek dimple that appeared when he was smiling so big his cheeks hurt. Or that loud, cackling laugh that made his jaw ache. The way his tongue rolled against his upper set of teeth when he was deep in thought or the way his lips gaped slightly when he was concentrating. His humming of songs when he cooked because he didn't know any lyrics, or his loud whistling when he was getting dressed in the other hallway.

Everything.

Just him.

"Are you okay?" Hannah shouts loudly, straining her voice over the band playing metres away. Her heavily painted eyes widen at my quivering lip and she thrusts her drink to Tommy before she grabs me by the shoulders. "Frankie, what's going on?"

"It's him, Han." I almost cried. "I love him."

With eyes bulging even further and at risk of popping from their sockets, I feel her fingertips pinch my skin through the thick leather jacket. Confusion coursed through me as a slow smile began to crawl upon her lips and I could've pushed her away in frustration. How dare she find my heartbreak amusing?

"What are you smiling at?" I asked her. With a bigger smile, she turns me with still a strong grip.

There he was.

Feet away in a pair of dark jeans and maroon shirt, I felt my lungs be squeezed of all air. A gentle shove, I stumbled forward only three steps to be chest-to-chest with him. Jason. He was here.

Our fastly rising chests seemed to be in sync and I couldn't help but wonder what his thoughts were.

"I didn't think you were coming." I say.

"I wouldn't have let you down."

I bite my lip, "What did you hear?"

With slightly parted lips, he struggles to find correct words. My churning stomach knots sickenly and the embarrassment burned my throat. I wanted to run, to get lost in the sea of celebrators.

"Only a minute to go until New Year-"

My shoulders rise and I pull my jacket closer to shield my shivering body. I glance away from the mass of onlookers and back towards the towering, mouth-watering man in front of me whose mouth remained gaped. Inhaling a large, extended breath and shutting my eyes for a second as the thirty second countdown began.

"Jason, I'm sorry." I say, reopening my eyes. With a heavy chest and a dry mouth, I shake my head gently in shame. "I'm sorry for everything."

Five.

"I've got to go."

Four.

I squeeze past him, preparing to fight my way back like a fish swimming against the current, when my hand is caught.

Three.

He pulls me to his chest, catching me as my ankle dips to the side.

Two.

His warm hands hold my cheeks and my heart pounds hard against my chest, the pain being suffocated with sheer elation.

One.

He kisses me.

His plush, soft and incredibly gentle lips heat mine up. The worry about my red lipstick transferring onto his was the least of his worries as he holds me close. Pulling me, holding me, savouring me. My hands are tangled in his soft hair, my body rising onto it's tiptoes as he keeps hold of my cheeks.

I gasp, our slightly sweaty foreheads pressing together as we unwillingly pull away to rejoin the hype and ecstatic cheers.

"I love you, Frankie." 

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I have no words, none. 

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