After a lengthy absence, I finally have something to share. I basically wrote this under the influence of Irish beer. I was interrupted by my sisters, so it may not be cohesive. Enjoy!

There are forty-five minutes until midnight, and the beginning of a new year. It’s a new year for the two of them, ushering in the anniversary of their first year of marriage, as well as the milestones of turning 30. He’s more relaxed about their birthdays than she is.

She is across the room, talking with a few friends, a glass of water in her hand. He watches her from across the way, feeling the effects of the second glass of beer he had, and finds her even more beautiful than she was when they left the house that evening for the party. She looks over at him, and smiles. He’s pretty sure she’s smiling because he’s on his third glass of beer, but he’s pretending she smiled because she is happy. He takes one last gulp, and walks over to her.

“Hello, darlin’,” he smiles, kissing her on the cheek and wrapping his arm protectively around her waist. She looks at him and smiles warmly.

All of her friends look at him, and are jealous of her. He doesn’t know why, he thinks he’s nothing special, despite what she tells him. She smiles again when she notices they’re staring at him, and not paying attention to the fact she’s talking about Santa Claus being her uncle.

“Will you ladies excuse us? I want to steal her away for a few minutes.”

“Go ahead, Colin. Having a good time?”

“I am having a great time. How can you not with such lovelies to admire?” He’s goading them, and he knows it. They flush, and he smiles triumphantly, whisking her off.

“You know they’re freely staring at your butt right now, right?”

“Are they, my love?”

“Well…after that invitation you gave them, yes.” She looks up at him, and laughs.

He leads her outside, to the deck outlined with clear Christmas lights, where he promptly presses a deep kiss to her lips. She kisses him back, giggling.

“You couldn’t do that in there?”

“Not really, no.”

“Are you suddenly against PDA? Because, in the past, it never would have stopped you.”

“Actually, I have a proposition,” he smiles devilishly.

“Well, you can propose it inside,” she replies. “It is cold as hell out here.” She walks away and back into the house. He is not too far behind, grabbing at her back as she playfully speeds away from him.

He catches her as she sinks onto a sofa in the corner, beneath the low light of an overhead light. He nuzzles his nose into her neck, and presses soft kisses up to her ear.

“What is this proposition, then?” She murmurs, smiling at the kisses.

“I propose we get out of here, and have our own little New Year’s party in our own house,” he breathes, kissing her ear.

“No, Colin. This is my first New Year’s party, and I want to stay here until midnight. What’s spurred this, I wonder? You were more excited about this party than I was earlier today. What’s changed?”

“It was this beautiful bird I saw from across the room,” he whispers, trailing his finger across her collarbone, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “She smiled at me, and I felt the need to bed her immediately.”

“’Bed her immediately?’ Have you been reading nineteenth century novels again? You don’t speak like that, even when you’re seducing me. You’re acting strange.”

“I haven’t touched those books recently,” he replied, pulling back from her. “I’ve cracked open a few of yours, though,” he retorted. “Is the whole ‘heaving bosoms’ thing your idea of an excellent novel?”

“Compared to your Game of Thrones­-themed books, they’re amazing. But to answer your question, no they aren’t my idea of a good book. I read them for a bit of a change from what I normally read, which has no sexual situations. Those books are the touch of HBO that everyone except religious leaders yearns for when they watch television. You’re well aware that I read books with far more substance than romance novels.”

“I could break out the Camelot cape I have in the wardrobe. I know what that does to you,” he smiles mischievously.

“Really?” She asks, getting distracted by the idea of him dressing up as a Knight of Camelot. “No, I won’t be distracted, even in the face of such a suggestion. I want to stay here through the end, and kiss you at the stroke of midnight,” she returns firmly.

“Don’t say ‘stroke,’ Olivia,” he groans, straightening up on the sofa.

“Okay, I’ll just leave you here then. I am going to go and talk with Alicia,” she laughs, kissing the top of his head.

Colin sits on the sofa, calming down, all while watching Olivia interacts with their friends. It seems strange to him that at this time the year before, he was totally single and wishing he wasn’t at this party. He met Olivia on his birthday, two months later. Five months later, they were married, shocking their friends and family members. Once he was ‘settled’, he went to grab two glasses of champagne. He spun to walk toward Olivia, when he met up with Gerard.

“Olivia seems happy,” Gerard voices, gesturing at Olivia.

“She’s over the moon,” Colin smiles. “I tried convincing her to get out of here, but she insists on staying.”

Just then, a ruckus stirs at the front door. Into the living room walks Declan, all boisterous and already drunker than someone should be before midnight. He makes an instant beeline for Olivia, which causes Colin to smirk.

“What is that?” Gerard asks, noticing Colin’s reaction.

“It’s Declan,” he returns, “Olivia cannot stand him. She thinks he’s loud, overbearing, and doesn’t like the fact he fancies her. The question is: how will she react?”

Colin stands there in amused silence. Declan approaches Olivia, and she turns just as he speaks her name. Her face contorts in fright and annoyance, as he pulls her into an uncomfortable embrace. Colin waits for the moment of truth: how will Olivia react? Colin is stunned when she puts on a fake smile and looks like she’s interested in what he has to say. She glances up at Colin, giving him the signal for rescue. He lets her fester a few more seconds, before walking over to them.

“Hey there, Declan. Happy New Year,” he smiles. Olivia looks at him in appreciation. “Here’s your champagne, baby-bear,” he voices, handing her the glass. Colin knows Declan cannot stand the fact that Olivia is married to him.

“Happy New Year to you as well, Colin,” Declan returns, putting on a fake smile. “I was just saying to Olivia it’s such a beautiful night.”

“Indeed it is, Declan. I have never seen such a clear sky on New Year’s Eve,” Colin smiles at Declan’s discomfort. Olivia shoots him a look. “Uh…there’s ten minutes until the New Year, and I wanted to introduce Olivia to some people. If you’ll excuse us, Declan.”

Olivia smiles brightly, zipping by Declan with a short ‘nice seeing you.’ Colin wraps his arm around her shoulder, and laughs. Colin and Olivia separate for a few minutes, and Colin finds a short moment to look at Olivia having a discussion with someone, occasionally sipping at her champagne and smiling.

At a minute until midnight, Colin pulls Olivia away from her conversation and they go to a part of the party where there aren’t too many people standing around, so they have some air. They exchange knowing glances, and smile as they sip their champagne. As the last thirty seconds tick by, Colin takes Olivia’s glass and places it on a nearby table. The last five seconds consist of Colin pulling Olivia to him, and kissing her deeply as everyone begin shouting “Happy New Year!” around them. Olivia squeals as he kisses her. Everyone around them has done the traditional kiss, and is now singing ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ Colin pulls away from their inaugural New Year’s kiss as a married couple, and he takes her hand and leads her out to the road, flagging down the only unoccupied taxi to take them home.

The ride home is filled with her giggling, since she normally doesn’t have a lot to drink, so she feels really loose. Colin takes advantage of her change in mood, and whispers everything he wants to do with her, which sends her into even more fits of giggles. After paying the driver, they walk down the lane to their tiny apartment.

“You are going to wear the cape and sword, right?” Colin looks at her in disbelief. “Because if not, you have left me severely disappointed. You promised.”

“I promised nothing of the sort,” he answered. Olivia pouted, snickering into giggles. “But if you wish me to suit up into armour, then you shall get your wish,” he smiles widely.

Olivia claps and jumps up and down in excitement.

They fall through the door, and the New Year’s festivities continue long after.

Short Poem

To you I extend my heart
For I always carry yours.

We are one being,
In mind and soul.
In you, I see myself
And I love you all the more.


-I have no clue when I wrote this, or even what the inspiration might have been. I do know it was written within the last two months.

Kisses

His lips cling softly to mine,
Searching for a ending
But unable to find one.

I laugh lightly,
My smile breaking the bond
Between our mouths.

God your lips are addictive,
He murmurs into my neck.
His lips trail slowly down my throat,
Sending mini waves through me.

Yours aren't too bad either,
I manage to squeak out
Among the kisses he lays upon me.

In an instant,
His hands frame my face.
His thumbs stroking my cheeks,
Slowly and seductively.

My eyes close in response,
My breath going shallow.

His lips cover mine again,
And I am backed against a wall,
Assaulted by passionate kisses.

The Hellish Eighth Grade Year

When I was fourteen, my family moved across town. In this upheaval, I had to go to a new school for my final year of middle school. And we moved literally two weeks before school started. My first day was horrible, and it set the tone for how the rest of my school year was going to go.

Embraced Part 2

I am basically writing this like I wrote Part 1, without a plan, and seeing where the wind blows me.

**************

I spent the whole of our lunch period sitting at the male-dominated table of Jonathan and his friends. There were a few moments where I contemplated getting up and leaving, because I sensed the guys were holding back from their usual topics of conversation, but I ended up sticking around because Jonathan wouldn't remove his right arm from my body. At the beginning his arm was thrown around my shoulder, and by the end, it had fallen right above my hip. I was sure my face was showing tell-tale signs that this unnerved me, but if it was, nobody was talking about it.

Embraced

I turned away from the phone, sad and angry. I needed a release, something or someone to get my mind off of what just happened. Tears blinded my eyes, and as I wiped them away, I walked right into him.

He was this unknown light in my life. When I was away from him, I missed his presence, the way he made me feel, how much he annoyed me. At that moment, all those thoughts disappeared.

He looked into my eyes, and bent to look me straight in the face.

"Are you okay?  What's happened?" His hands protectively grasped my shoulders.
"Nothing, I just made an idiot of myself, and I'm angry with myself."

He nods, and then pulls me into his arms.

This is a foreign feeling, being in a guy's arms. He's wrapped them protectively around me, and I feel safe and secure. I can feel his heartbeat, the heat of his body. He's like a comforting blanket during a horrible storm.

Flooded with pent-up emotions, I just let go, and cry into his shoulder. His hands instinctually come up to my shoulders, and he rubs my back as sobs shake my body. He whispers soothingly into my ear, rocking me back and forth, and his hands run up and down my back. I realize what I've done, and I pull away.

"I'm sorry," I sniffle, wiping my my eyes with my hands.
"There's nothing to be sorry for. You needed to cry." He opens his arms to me, gesturing for me to come back to the safety of his arms.

I hesitate, weighing the pros and cons of this. I slowly bring myself back into his warm embrace, and his arms gently enfold me.

"I'm keeping you from your lunch," I speak into his chest.
"It's a shitty lunch," he chuckles. "You're saving me from a possible death."

He pulls back, pushing my face up with his fingers.

"You feeling better?" I nod, sniffling more. "I'm glad to hear it. Why don't we go into the cafeteria?"
"Oh I couldn't," I moan. "Your friends will make fun of me, being the weak girl and everything."
"They'll do nothing of the sort. If they do, they'll have to answer to me," he smiles.

I look down at the floor.

He pushes my face back up, so I am looking him directly in the eyes.

"They will not make fun of you," he assures me. His hands are resting on my face now. His thumbs are wiping the errant tears away.
"Do you trust me?"

"Honestly? No." His expression fades. "But right now, I feel compelled to believe you. Don't fuck with me right now. I am vulnerable."
"I wouldn't dare," he laughs. He leans his head in, and kisses my forehead. "Let's go," he smiles.

As we enter the cafeteria, I can see the people whom I embarrassed myself in front of stare at us in utter shock. Jonathan and I are well-known for not getting along, for having stupid petty arguments over just about everything. Jonathan's friends are introduced to me, even though I knew who they were. For the outcast in school, I feel like Cinderella. Jonathan warns them not to make fun of me, and they reply they won't. They all inquire if I am okay, to which Jonathan lays another soft kiss to my head and tells them I will be just fine.

And for that brief moment, I feel like the world is right. Something has shifted in Jonathan's and my acquaintance. And who knows where it will go from here.

Fade to Black

It looms around me, the darkness.

It may be light outside,

But it’s bleak and lifeless within these four walls.

I feel claustrophobic,

The air quickly leaving my lungs.

My heart bursting to pieces about me.

He says he needs space,

That the timing wasn’t right for us.

I looked up at him,

My eyes brimming with hot salty tears,

And I just nodded.

I should have called him a fucking asshole.

I should have said more than just “okay.”

What the hell is wrong with me?

I got up from the table,

Took my things,

And walked out the door.

And here I sit in my house,

Staring blankly at the walls,

Listening to sad music.

I cry at the drop of a hat,

And anything gets me started.

I’m in a fog,

Numb to the outside world.

I’ve cut off all contact from friends and family.

Their words do not soothe me,

Nor will they make me feel better.

I feel as if all is lost.

Lost in some dark forest in a mythical land.

The fog closes in,

And the world fades to black.

Novels and Football

She has finished her Dublin crime novel. She is reading something new, but it's not quite as engaging. I am watching a footy game on the TV, grumbling under my breath at the ineptness of the players and the referees. She'll occasionally smirk or chuckle when I shout at the screen.

I catch her stealing looks at me, over the pages of her book that she pretends to be wrapped up in.

"How's the book, my love?"
"Good," she replies. She is completely lying. "How's the game?"
"You know perfectly well how it is," I voice annoyingly.

She smiles widely, bringing her book up to her face. Her eyes go up to the TV, and she's briefly caught in the moment.

"Go Sergio, you can do this!" I look at her, feeling betrayed by my own wife. She laughs and drops her book to pump her fist in the air when he scores a goal.

"Do I even know you?" I ask, my mouth aghast.

She smiles slyly, and slips the dust cover around the page. She gets up from "her chair", and sits beside me on the sofa. She snuggles her nose into my neck, wrapping her arms around my arm.

"I told you which team I cheered for during FIFA. Don't act shocked."

She lays her head on my shoulder, and watches the match alongside me, keeping her exuberance for Spain's goals to herself.

"Am I forgiven?" She asks innocently after the game. I raise my eyebrows suspiciously, questioning her motives.
"I suppose so," I smile. "But I am still pissed that Ireland lost."
"Hmm..." she voices, picking her head up off my shoulder. "Maybe I can help," she smiles.
"I doubt it, baby. I don't think anything will get me out of this funk."
"Not even if I kiss you?" She asks innocently.
"You can try, but be warned it might not work."

She turns my face so that it faces hers, and she softly presses her lips to mine. At first it begins gently, but quickly grows into something more passionate. Before I know it, I have her pinned beneath me, my hands all over her.

Amazing how novels and football make an evening.