Welcome to the Chaos

From somewhere deep within, you can feel a warmth in your chest. Spreading, blooming, blooming into something more.

You've felt it for a while now.

And you know why. Even if you still are trying to refuse that fact. Your feelings have been going nearly out of your control for awhile now. All for a certain man from the future.

There was a Christmas party at your work, and you had almost begged Kyle to attend. He gave you permission after you proposed the idea of him coming with you if he was so worried.

The party was underway when you arrived, and the more people that showed up the more in swing it became.

You had a few glasses of sweet eggnog here and there, and had even had a few of the sweet treats laying out on platters. You'd even managed to convince Kyle to have some, too.

As the night began to grow older, you found yourself in a separate room with Kyle. His eyes were on you the whole time, but his hands stayed politely beside him– even though you wished he wouldn't. That he'd dare to venture even just a bit and maybe place them in yours, or settle on your hips.

In the room, there were a few others around. Each dancing or swaying to some Christmas songs playing softly.

However, the scattered green and red decorations on the roof caught your attention. A quick glance upward and you found the place you stood to also have one above you. Before you could even think another thought, a blush settled upon your cheeks and you caught Kyle's eyes again.

With a gentle clear of your throat, you spoke up to answer his quizzical look, “we’re under the mistletoe.”

“The what?” Kyle asks, giving you a weird look– one of the ones he does when he doesn’t have a clue what you just said or what it means. He does it often, and it comes as no surprise considering almost everything here in your time is new to him.

But that doesn't mean you hadn't hoped. A hope that is now shot dead in its tracks that maybe he knew what that was.

You vaguely gesture upwards to the green and red object, hanging precariously above the two of you with the underlying suggestion remaining heavy in your mind.

“It's just.. a tradition,” you say.

He still doesn't get it. You can tell by the look on his face. “What kind of tradition?”

You swallow, and shake your head. This is far too embarrassing to explain to him. “Just, forget it. I can't tell you. It's really awkward and complicated to explain.”

Maybe another day, you silently wager.

Kyle's brow furrows, and you know he's going to want more. “Please,” He finally murmurs, “I want to know.”

You sigh, and decided to fuck it and throw all caution to the wind. If he wanted to know so badly, he was going to know.

Slowly, you place your hands on his cheeks and lean forward so you're in his space, chest to chest and on your tip-toes to reach him. You pause a few inches from his face, taking a moment to take in the beauty of his eyes, the stubble on his face, before finally pressing your lips against his.

The kiss isn't long. Instead, it's short, quick, and controlled, everything you don't want it to be. But you aren't a mad woman and you can restrain yourself.

Kyle looks stunned when you pull away. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows have shot up to his forehead. You try not to feel bashful, but it's hard not to when he looks the way he does.

“Oh.” He finally says, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

He doesn't say anything else. Just keeps looking at you with confusion and shock and you start to regret what you've done.

The night goes on without any more words, Kyle never ventures far from your side. You've interacted with a few people while you've been present, some relatives and such, but it's starting to die down.

There's a soft Christmas song playing somewhere. Your family is scattered all throughout the house, most playing cards at the dinner table, but you've found yourself in a room not many else occupy and those that do, do so quietly.

A glass of some liquor is nestled in the palm of your hand– you've been sipping it for the last hour or so and it's starting to grow warm from the heat of your palms.

You sigh, standing up. Kyle's eyes follow you as you do. “This party's boring. Let's just go back home.”

He nods and follows you when you start making your way out of the house. You bid goodbye to your family one last time before leaving.

The outside air is cold when you close the door, bitter chill nipping against your cheeks and bare hands. You're trying to move briskly– almost at the steps when Kyle says your name, halting you.

When you finally turn around, his mouth is immediately on yours. Its like you've been dunked into ice water when surprise shoots through your system. The kiss is quick, a little hesitant, but full of passion. However, just as quickly as it started it ends. Your brows raise in shock as he pulls away. Kyle just kissed you. He didn't even say anything, he just kissed you.

The look on your face must be one of extreme shock because he gestures vaguely to the porch ceiling, “we were under the mistletoe.”

Realization smacks you, a broad smile spreads across your lips while you shake your head. “Thats not really how that works, silly,” you laugh.

Kyle just shrugs, a sheepish smile that morphs into a confident one adorns his face, “worked enough, didn’t it?.”

Smiling, you lean in to kiss Kyle again, “it did.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!