Page 64 of Ho Ho Homicidal Mania
I don’t know what’s changed his mind, or what he’s trying to achieve, but I don’t even wait until he’s done, and approach him in quick strides. He’s still singing the last chorus when I take him in my arms.
The customers don’t know about my plight, but a few still clap and whistle.
The crushing realization of what this might be about, settles on my heart, then squeezes as if it’s barbed wire.
I have to take a deep breath so my voice doesn’t tremble, but I manage to whisper into Blake’s ear. “There’s no need for this, sweetie. You have nothing to fear from me.” Because a normal person like him must have had sleepless nights worrying about the monster who killed his brother. I imagine him terrified that if he doesn’t appease me, I would come after him one day.
I expect him to pull away, happy, if uncomfortable with the situation he’s put himself in, but as the cheers around us die down, he puts the bell away and presents me with a meticulously wrapped gift.
When he confirms that he wants me to open it, I rip into it like I'm a greedy kid. The smell of fruit and cinnamon makes my mouth water.
“I made it myself,” Blake adds quickly. “Because I know how much you love fruitcake… Can we... talk? Please?”
I swallow, looking into those soulful green eyes. “Sure, I—Owen, will you be okay—”
Owen is right by my side with a wide grin and nods. “Of course. I can handle this, easy. Take all the time you need.”
“Let’s go somewhere private, hm?” My face is on fire as I lead him to the stairs so we can get to my apartment. I’m sizzling just thinking about him being at my place again, and I try to ignore all the joyous comments flying my way. It’s too much to handle, and I’m relieved the moment we are out of everyone’s sight. Blake grabs my fingers and lets me lead him to my door, and then inside.
I have so many questions. Why did he choose to come back? Why now? Was the song a way to express his honest feelings, or is this just me reading into things again?
“Fuck. It’s a mess. Sorry,” I grumble and nervously start clearing up the empty pizza boxes, and the stack of used tissues from yesterday's cry-fest. I’m glad I’m presentable because of my work in the shop, or he could have walked in on me in a fleece onesie with stains on it.
But as I move to put away the trash, he stands in my way and takes the boxes from me before dropping them to the floor.
“I don’t care. Just…. listen.”
I force myself to not avoid his gaze anymore. “Yes? Is everything okay… in Aspen?” I ask because my mind is doing the craziest twists now about the possibility of him wearing a wire. But would he sell me out? After everything we’ve been through? Just looking into his pretty eyes is enough to mess with my head.
“Nico… I flew back last night, and I knew I needed to see you. Have you…” He swallows and stares at our feet as his sweaty palms tighten on my hands. “Do you want me to go?”
“No!” I say in an instant and squeeze him back. “Tell me what you need.”
Blake nods, massaging my hands as he twitches in front of me, opening and closing his mouth several times. “I just… I wanted to say sorry. I was confused, and scared, but I didn’t want you to go.”
A storm erupts in my chest. Is it possible that there’s still a future for us? I don’t dare blink in case he is only a figment of my imagination and will disappear as soon as I close my eyes.
“I had to leave. You don’t have to worry about me. I get your reasoning even if I don’t like it.” But he’s holdingmy hands, wearing my sweater, he baked me a fruitcake, and even sang me a romantic Christmas song. It has to mean what I hope it does, or he would have chosen a more non-committal tune, like ‘Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer’.
“Yes, but now I’m back and…” Blake inhales and shakes his head before resting his forehead against my chest. “It’s all I wanted. To come back and see you.”
I take him into my arms, and for the first time in two weeks, my heart steadies. He fits in my embrace the way he fits in my soul. “That’s a lovely sweater you have on,” I tease, melting into him.
The breath he lets out is soft and sweet as cotton candy, and so full of relief my blood thrums with joy. “It’s not actually ugly. It’s soft, and warm, and I love it,” he mutters, and something in his voice tells me he isn’t speaking only about the garment. But as I pull back to kiss him, he reaches into his pocket and presents me with a little square box wrapped with a velvet ribbon. “Merry Christmas.”
I rub my eyes because they suddenly itch. “For me?” Stupid fucking question, since he’s giving it to me, but I’m a mess. “Thank you. Should I… put it under the tree? For tomorrow?” Am I getting ahead of myself with my hopes that he’ll stay the night?
“No, I want you to see them now,” he tells me and shoves the gift at my chest.
I’m not sure what to make of it, but I unfasten the ribbon and open the box. I’m now glad he didn’t give it to me downstairs because it’s filled with… teeth. And I’ve seen enough of them to know they’re human.
Blake swallows and pushes back his locks, fidgeting under the weight of my gaze. “They’re Carl’s. I got him cremated but saved the teeth… for you. You didn’t getthe head and you deserved to. I know it matters to you, and this way, if you want to, you could make a new snow globe. With miniatures inspired by this kill. And maybe… the two of us could feature in there?”
His eyes glisten, and I put away the box on the counter, because the need to hug him is overwhelming. “This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever gotten me.” I squeeze him tightly, but then lift him and spin him around, feeling as though we’re already in the most romantic of snow globes.
He yelps and clutches at me, but as I stop and lower him back to the floor, he grabs me by the collar and tugs me down until our lips clash. Gravity goes haywire, and I stumble against the wall, clawing my fingers into his buttocks as he raises one knee and tries to wrap his leg around my hips.
I love him. I love him. I love him.
