//It's so exhausting pretending to hate you -The Unhoneymooners Christina Lauren//
Dinner. Calm down. It's just dinner. Gosh it's exhausting, exhausting and tiring and all the synonyms of those words combined. Hating someone, who knew it would be so- so, time wasting. It was like a whole full time job.
After trying on multiple outfits, even with the help of Denisa's amazing outfit taste, you still couldn't help but find nothing. Your and Denisa's whole warddrobe had been swiped out, nothing suitable to wear. Formal yet casual, yet You. Something that screams your Y/n Y/l/n personality.
So where are you going? -Tom
You had told Tom you had to go out somewhere but not been specific with details.
To dinner, with my family -Y/n
It wasn't a lie, they were your family, the Mounts, they treated you as their own.
Again, this does not apply alongside Mason.
Finally you found the almost perfect outfit hiding in the back of your wardrobe.
Slipping the summer dress on, you heated your hair into some loose curls, (Masons favourite but also your best hair look, funny how it only became your best look when Mason said it was his favourite) nonetheless, you did your hair and twisted some strands to the back of your hair with a clip. Awesome.
"GO QUEEN!" Denisa comes in cheering, causing you to chuckle.
"It's just dinner." You exclaim. "With my family." You felt guilty not telling your best friend the truth, but you couldn't be like 'oh yeah going to Mason's mums house for dinner because we were close before.' It was better that no one knew about you and Mason, besides it was the past, it didn't matter anymore right?
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Clutching a bouquet of flowers and Jasmine's (Mason's Sister) favourite chocolates in your hands, you ring the doorbell.
Masons POV...
Mum said there would be an unexpected visitor tonight. I was pretty excited, hoping deep inside it wouldn't be one of mums old friends who would say 'oh Mason you are so tall Handsome!' And bring up some cheesy story about when I was a baby.
That wasn't the only thing lingering on my mind...
Y/n.
God, I spent 4 years forgetting her (well call it 'many failed attempts to') and just about moving on before she comes and her eyes crash with mine. It was unfair, selfish. But I knew it wasn't her fault, deep inside she doesn't even want to look at my face. She hates me and I don't need to hear the words coming out of her mouth. I don't want to.
Whenever I see her, the memories come flushing back quickly like a harsh wave swallowing me whole. When I saw her at the game, I felt a lump form in my throat. I was glad I didn't catch her eye (or maybe I did but didn't recognise her after all these years) at the game or else I would've lost focus.I didn't get to see her properly but she looked different enough for me to hardly recognise her.
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Stopping my train of thought, the doorbell rings, "I'll get it!" I exclaim, curiosity pondering in my mind as I wonder who's at the door, behind that door....
I open it.
Our eyes meet. Clash. Crash.
I-
Wha-
God she looks beautiful, I slightly look her up and down and everything changed. Her face, more sharper, her eyes, more brighter but something's missing, that light, that shine.
Her hair, hey! I loved her hair like that. Her y/h/c locks flowing softly yet generously by her shoulders, a small touch to her beauty. Wow. I'm pretty sure my eyes lit up immensely.
Your POV...
Your were not expecting him, him to be at the door. Your heart began beating fast, but not in a cute, good, nervous way. In a I-dont-wanna-see-you-ever-again way.
As soon as Mason's mouth opens, Debbie emerges from the background, "Mason I know she's a goregous girl, but try to make it less obvious that you are staring."
You chuckle slightly and smile at Debbie, trying to hide the awkwardness going on.
"Just a bit surprised Mum." Mason mutters under his breath, loud enough for the both of you hear.
Oh so he wants to play that game huh?
"You're not the only one." You breathe, handing the flowers and chocolate to Debbie as Mason makes way for you to enter the house.
It looks the same, all the memories come flushing back, drowning you almost. You never believed the quote which said 'you don't need water to drown.' But now you do. You get it...
You try to gulp it away.
"Come on dinner's this way."
You say your greetings to the family and sit on the dinner table edging as further away from Mason as you possibly could. Funny how, at one point you and Mason would edge your chair right next to each other at family dinners.
After all the effort, you end up sitting straight opposite Mason.
Jasmine begins talking about some family memory as you prod at your food. Masons gaze piercing through you. You shake it away, you weren't going to let him have the satisfaction of destroying your night.
"Oh yeah and then..." you participate in the conversations and laugh with the family as Mason stays quiet. It felt normal, safe, as if nothing happened. You liked the feeling. Just something, one thing wasn't right, and it hadn't been for the past 4 years.
You stand up after finishing your meal, about to clear up. "Don't bother Y/n I'll do it." Debbie insists, but cleaning up after yourself is one of your-unspoken rules.
"It's fine honestly." You smile and take your plate into the kitchen.
Mason POV...
Gosh I hated it, I hated her talking to my family laughing with them. It felt, I dont know, weird. She acted as if nothing, nothing happened between us, but it did and she knew it did. Seeing her be comfortable with my family, made me feel sad, lonely almost. It made me miss her, miss her smile, her insane laugh, her character.
"Oh she's a lovely girl. Why don't you go in the kicthen and talk to her Mason?" Mum asks, more of a command than a question.
"Um." How was I to back out of this one? It was weird enough that we hadn't spoken at all during dinner.
"Ok, I guess." I pick up my mess and carry it into the kitchen.
Y/n is there, in her beautiful red dress, hugging her in all the best places, using a cloth to wipe her wet hands.
I give her a straight smile as she slightly looks at me. She doesn't smile back. "Y/n-" I begin, knowing she can clearly hear me but decides to ignore me and go back to the dining room.
Your POV...
Of course you heard him. How could you not? The silence was quieter than ever. You could hear anything in the heavy but silent air between you guys. As you walk into the dining room, you catch onto a little bit of Jasmine and Debbie's conversation, without the means to eavesdrop.
"..almost distant. Remember how they were as kids?"
You enter the room, not intending to eavesdrop, that's an inhumanly thing to do. Evil almost.
"Oh hey Y/n. Can I speak to you?" Jasmine asks, leading you to the living room as you nod.
Sitting on the couch next to her, she slightly turns her body so it faces you, as you do the same.
"So as you know me and Sam got married, and well we can't go to the honeymoon because something urgent came up..." Jasmine explains as you give a look of and???How am I involved in this? I haven't seen you in 4 years!
"So, I was thinking that I could give you a ticket and one of my close friends a ticket and you could go together."
What? Huh? Why You?
"With a complete stranger?" You asks, unsure of, well everything.
"Yeah, don't worry she's so nice and you will bond instantly!" Jasmine insists, "It's in Ibiza."
You think for a moment, a free plane ticket, to a great place, with someone you can socialise with and become friends. What if you two have the best time? You needed a holiday to tear away all the stress in your life.
"But why me?" You question, slightly tilting your head.
"Because your like a sister to me Y/n and you deserve it!...Plussss you got my favourite chocolate! Even Sam forgets to buy them sometimes but you remembered after what? 2 years?" Nope, Jasmine, not that short, it had been a long time, the longest time.
Jasmine exclaims pulling you in for a hug, you chuckle lightly, her strong daisy aroma floating up your nostrils.
"Thanks, I'll take it."
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A/n- Haven't done a 'A/n' before, at least not on this story. Anyways first of all, COMMENT like please! It's amazing knowing feedback and other peoples perspective.