"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
I looked up from my History book. Tristan was perched on the fence, smiling down at me. It was a sweet, if not idiotic, gesture.
"And to you," I replied coolly.
Maybe if I pretended to be ticked off, he would realize his mistake.
He frowned.
"What's wrong?"
I looked up at him with fake ice in my eyes and said, "Tell me the date today."
Almost immediately he blurted, "February fourteenth."
"It's the fifteenth today, Tristan."
"Wha-?!"
"Valentine's Day was yesterday."
"No," he said, "Yesterday you fell asleep against my shoulder and we both cut class for four straight hours. Yesterday was NOT Valentine's Day."
I sighed.
"You can't change the date, Tristan. Yesterday was Valentine's Day. You missed it. Oh well. Better luck next year."
His shoulders slumped dejectedly and he jumped down.
Slipping his arm around my shoulder, he grumbled, "Pssh. Who needs a crappy holiday to tell someone how much you love them?"
"Apparently, you do."
He bumped his head against mine and whispered, "Shut up, no I don't."
I snuggled closer to him. These were the moments I lived for. I closed my eyes and tried to memorize the exact way his muscled arm felt on my back, the precise angles of his chest. I sighed contentedly and relaxed against him, letting my body conform to his.
"What're you reading about?" he asked, pointing to my book.
"The, uh, New England Vampires."
His entire body tensed and his arm tightened around my shoulders, so much so that it almost was painful.
"Y-yeah? Are they interesting?"
"Um, yeah, actually they are . . . Are you . . . ? Are you afraid of them . . . ?"
He looked down at me wistfully and shook his head.
“No, it’s just that I really don’t want you to know more than is necessary about our history.”
His casual use of the possessive worried me deeply, but I chose to ignore it.
Instead of freaking myself out any further because of it, I pushed myself up and glanced into his eyes. They were a deep black color; he was troubled.
"You know . . .” I lowered my mouth to his throat.
"It’s not that big of a deal . . . I can do anything you can do.” I whispered this, and after he had given the appropriate gasp of shock, I pressed my lips against the warm skin of his neck.
He subsequently started laughing his head off.
“Jesus, Katy,” he chortled, “That tickles!”
I shoved his shoulder.
“You jerk!” I exclaimed. “I was trying to do something romantic!”
Leaning as far away from him as I could without looking retarded, I folded my arms over my chest. I knew he was looking at me with those big, probably baby blue eyes; I could feel it. I also knew that if I so much as snuck a peek at them, I would melt and forgive him for ruining my pass at flirtation.
I will not melt; I will not melt; I will not melt; I will not melt; I will not-
He stretched over to me and kissed my cheek. The touch was so feather-light that I probably wouldn't have noticed it if not for the soft "chu" sound that accompanied it. I couldn't fathom how much restraint it had taken for him to be that gentle with me.
Awww . . . How cute . . .
Subtly, I turned my head a little and looked at him through my eyelashes. I couldn't see his eyes - thank God - on account of his shaggy bangs being in front of them, but his mouth was drawn down at the corners.
I felt bad for calling him a jerk. He wasn't really a jerk, just a bit dense sometimes. It's not like he could help that.
"Wow," he murmured demurely, "I came over here to wish you well on a holiday that's already passed, nearly had a panic attack when you said something that made me think you'd become a vampire, and still had time left over to piss you off. I completely screwed it up this time."
My heart fell. He was so upset . . .
"I'll leave you alone now, before I mess things up even further." He got up to walk away and I panicked.
I jumped to my knees, grabbed ahold of his pants leg to keep him from going and shakily said, "No. Stay here. With me."
He stared increduously down into my pleading eyes and nodded. After he'd plunked himself back down on the ground, I nestled myself against him again.
We were both uncomfortably silent for what seemed like forever, until I wrapped my arm tighter around his waist and muttered, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
"You nut," he sighed, "Valentine's Day was yesterday."
"Yeah, but who really needs a crappy holiday to tell someone how much you love them?"
"Nobody does."
After a little bit of enjoying the calm, he kissed the top of my head and said, "You know I would do anything for you, right?"
"I know," I purred. "I love you, too."
He pulled me closer to him and whispered, "I don't think you know how much I need you. It drives me crazy when we're apart."
"Like I said, I love you, too."
He bumped his head against mine again and muttered, "Shut up, I was trying to be romantic."
"You're always romantic."
"Yes, it's a gift I have."
"Tristan, don't be a smartass."
"Why don't we just calm down and enjoy the moment before the past five minutes repeats itself, hmm?"
