[One-shot] The Christmas Party

 (Play the audio while reading for kicks. I conceptualized this as a one-act play of sorts - A/N)

That introduction gave the promise of an entire night of inner torture for him.

“Oh, this is Cathy, my friend. She’ll be joining the party later.” She motioned to the person sitting beside her. Cathy stood up, shook hands with him and sat back down perfunctorily; her eyes transitioning in a split-second from a glare (to him) that one would usually associate to a mama bear with threatened cubs behind her to coquettish doe eyes (to her) with a silent… hunger,  he thought, for lack of a better term.

Fine, arguably he may have just imagined it; considering he’s got a rather imaginative mind that wasn’t a too-remote an observation. On the other hand, his gaydar hasn’t failed him yet, and the abovementioned gaydar is twinging like mad when he looks at Cathy and her. Oh. Shit.

“Guys, are we going or not?” Their officemate beckoned towards the door.

The ride to the party’s venue was worse. The officemate’s car was a large-ish kei car; the officemate and his wife in front, him, her and Cathy in the back, in that order. He can smell her, feel her closeness. Yet he doesn’t quite exist; Cathy had her whole attention, her eyes alive the way couples do when they see each other after a day apart. And she was getting that same look too. Great.

~*~*~*

The party was pretty meh. Then again, he wasn’t really a fan of them. He prefers the quiet to the hustle and bustle. He prefers Mountain Dew over the brand of alcohol the manager shoves down his subordinates’ collective throats which honestly tastes like something pulled from a decade-old septic tank. He prefers George Winston over them damn show bands who play ‘Nobody’ from the Wonder Girls and other pop fodder. Why the hell did he even go here in the first place?

It’s because of her, you idiot; his mind said. His eyes tracked what his mind was referring to. Her dress was simple; a sleeveless light pink number of a conservative length that plays well with her body features and showed off one smooth shoulder and its well-defined collarbone. Her hair was untied; her long-ish uneven bob cut perfectly framing her strong yet very feminine jaw and graceful neck. Slim unadorned fingers brush away a stray strand of hair from her forehead, eyes reflecting the candlelight like clear cabochons.

“You know, she’s not really knock-out gorgeous, just on the cute-slash-plain side of pretty, Why all the fuss?” his mind asked. Yes he tends to talk to himself in times of stress.

“Dude, you should know why. And in the first place, you’re not a handsome critter yourself, so stop being so picky.” He stood up and went to the bar, thinking he might as well make the most of the company’s money. He looked over the booze selection and was starting to reach for the beer when his mind decided to track his objet d’affection just for kicks. He stopped cold when he saw her; she and Cathy went to the balcony overlooking the pool, sat on the balustrade while leaning on the columns going up to the roof and well, basically went in a world of their own.

“Just like lovers always do…” his mind crooned that line from Don McLean’s “Vincent” and snickered.

“A fuck it.” A mental facepalm later, he turned to the bartender and asked for a glass of the strongest hooch they had in the bar.

~*~*~*

He was pleasantly buzzed and not that depressed anymore. Everybody was leaving the venue like rats in a sinking ship; most likely proceeding to their own parties, some to girly bars to extend the fun. He sighed. Time to go home alone, the biting chill to keep him company till he gets a ride home.

“So. Is your boyfriend picking you up?” Her voice suddenly cut through his mental soliloquy. He looked to the side and saw her and Cathy coming out of the venue.

“Yep, he’d be around in a few. How about you, how’d you get home?”

“I’ll figure it out; worst case I’d take a cab. Look, there’s his car already.” She pointed to a black sedan crawling through the traffic.

“I told you you should get a boyfriend already so that you’d have someone to go home with in times like this.” Cathy hugged her farewell then started to walk towards her boyfriend’s car,

“Haha. It’s not as if anyone’s interested.” She retorted back.

Cathy stopped at the car’s door; Cathy turned around, an amused impish smile and a raised eyebrow on her pale face. “Really now.”  Cathy pointed to someone off to her side and back and went in, leaving her with a WTF expression on her face.

The conversation took some time before it cut through the alcohol fog. Cathy. Get a boyfriend. Wait. Something does not compute. He was still looking at her when she lost sight of the car, his mind still not done processing the conversation. She suddenly turned to him and asked “So. How’d you get home from here?”

“Walk to the nearest  loading area and wait for a bus or something.” He managed to blabber out.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She started walking towards the general direction of the nearest bus stop. “Damn it’s cold.” She rubbed her bare arms already breaking out in goosebumps.

He dug out his light coat out of his bag and placed it on her shoulders as he fell in step with her. She looked up in mild surprise, got over it, smiled her thanks and gathered the coat closer to her.

Snow began to fall as they were half-way to the bus stop. They both looked up and at each other for a moment that stretched to what felt like an eternity. “So… shall we?” He unwillingly broke off the silence. He held out his arm with questioning eyes. She smiled again, hooked her arm around his elbow and together they walked into the night.

—-

A/N: This would be the first finished piece after a long while. Pardon my rust and dust.