Bouquets of Chocolate (manxman)

Eight

The past two weeks have been both reassuring and strange at the same time. They've been reassuring because we've been doing the same things we always would. Jordie would come over unannounced, he'd randomly cook me food, or stop by after work and try some of the dishes I would try to make throughout the day. I would still stop by his work on the way back from deliveries, still go over to his place with breakfast so we can eat together. The difference is that now, when he walks into my kitchen unannounced, he'll come straight my way rather than sitting down waiting for me. He'll stop right next to me, loop a loose arm around my waist, and kiss my cheek, whispering a greeting to me. The first few times I froze like an idiot, and he took the opportunity to simply do it again and again until my brain caught up. Now, my heart simply beats faster, but I manage to at least pretend I'm used to it.

When I come over to his with breakfast, he takes advantage by the fact that both my hands are full to kiss me right on the mouth, and when we're out, he'll constantly hold my hand, have an arm over my shoulder, or just randomly hug me in a very not-friends hug. I love every minute of it, but I have to remind myself that it's okay every time too. I have to remind myself that I don't have to feel guilty for receiving his affection.

He sleeps over a lot more too now. We haven't had sex yet, which is incredibly strange for me. My last relationship was the one I had in Sixth Form, if I don't count Luce, and that was more than a good few years ago. I'm much more inclined to more casual flings or mutually beneficial agreements, relationships have never been my forte. And sex has been a big part of my life, but it feels somewhat strange to instigate that with Jordie. Like that first kiss we shared, it's a whole other part of him that I don't know and vice versa. I've tried imaging it a few times, not in the way I would when I first realised I was in love with him, but purely because I'm struggling with taking that step now. Every time, I instinctively stop myself from thinking about him like that. I've trained myself to ignore this part of myself so well that I find it difficult to openly let it show now.

I sigh, setting down the book I've been trying and failing to concentrate on. Unfortunately for the book, the coffee table is further away that I thought and it lands on the floor with a low thud of complaint. I let my arm hang over the edge of the sofa as I lie there staring up at the ceiling. I'm so pathetic. The guy I've been in love with for give or take 10 years has confessed his love for me and all I can do is push him away. I know he's noticed it too. He always smiles, covers it up, hugs me and laughs with me to make me feel better. It's incredibly convincing - if it wasn't me on the receiving end.

"Sammie?" Speak of the devil.

"You know, maybe we should take down the wall between our flats considering you just ignore the fact that I have a closed front door for a reason." I mumble.

"As if you care. If I didn't just come in, you'd have to get off your sofa you lazy bum." he laughs at me.

"I'm not lazy." I weakly argue. Which is a lie. When I'm not working or concentrating on something, I am lazy. The amount of days off I just spend laying on my sofa doing absolutely fuck all is astonishing.

"Why aren't you in here yet. Are you in the kitchen?" I ask when I realise he's not actually appeared yet.

"...No," he answers, and I can hear a slight, suspicious undertone in his voice.

"What did you do?" I ask slowly. I'm already in a bad mood; he better not have done anything rash.

"So you know how you really like me?"

"Jordie," I say warningly.

"And you would do absolutely anything for me?"

"What did you do?"