Page 16 of All I Want Is Love
Robin beams. “Anything you need! With your help, we might just win the contest!”
“What contest?”
“Well, the best decorated shop gets a prize every year,” he exclaims. “We never won! Aspen thinks it’s because of my tacky Christmas decorations every year. But on the other hand, he isn’t decorating the place at all.”
“Not this year,” I tell him. “We’ll make a real effort!”
Robin pumps his fist in the air like an overexcited teenager. “Yes!” he exclaims. “After you, Senpai!”
“Senpai?”
“Forget it,” he grins. “I am in my Jdrama phase. It means a person who mentors someone else, like a student.”
“I am neither of those.”
Robin laughs happily while twirling around. “Yes, but you are certainly a pro when it’s about this stuff here.” He grins. “And later we can get some hot chocolate and waffles.”
I look at him, slack-jawed. How?! How can he possibly eat so much? He is so skinny. I am seriously getting envious of his metabolism.
“Do you like hot chocolate?” he asks me.
“Yes, I do. I didn’t had any for ages, though.” I have a distant childhood memory in which Aspen once took me to a fair andbought me hot chocolate. It was fun, but it ended with him getting yelled at by Mom for giving me something unhealthy and for taking me along in the first place. I don’t remember the details, I just remember that I was so happy to be with him, only to get all these feelings of joy crushed later on.
“They have a great hot chocolate stand here,” Robin explains. “You can choose from all kinds of toppings. I would recommend marshmallows.”
“Okay,” I say. “But maybe we should do the shopping first?”
Robin slaps his forehead. “Of course, I am such an idiot. Work comes first.”
“When can we actually do the decorating?” I ask, stirring him further away from any food-related thoughts.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because it’s best to do it when the shop is closed. Plus, I need to craft some things at home first.”
“I mean, if you don’t mind coming in at night,” he pauses, “then any day works. We are currently open seven days a week.”
“I don’t mind,” I reassure him.
Robin beams. “I am so glad. So, when will you be done with preparations, and do you want me to help?”
“I think you have enough on your plate already,” I say, trying not to hurt his feelings by rejecting his offer. Truth is, I work best when I am alone, especially when it’s something crafty. “As for the day… let’s see… It’s Tuesday today. I should be done by Friday.”
“So, Friday evening?”
“Works for me.”
Five hours later – after a shopping and hot chocolate escalation – I return home with too many bags to carry and Barkley, who jumps around me, demanding his dinner and his evening walk. I drop everything in my apartment, give Barkley his food and then spend an hour outside in the fresh air.
“What a day, huh?” I ask Barkley once we have finally returned, and Barkley drops down in the middle of the room, strategically placing himself in a way that I have to step over him whenever I want to go to another room.
“Yeah, I did enjoy it,” I continue. “Robin is nice. It’s easy to hang out with him, you know? With some people, you just struggle to make conversation and feel like they always judge you, but he is the opposite.”
Barkley grunts and rolls on his back, having me pet his belly. Eyeing the many bags, I sigh. “What did I get myself into? I got way overboard. I should have stuck to some simple decoration, but all this talk about the big competition and Robin’s enthusiasm.” I pause. “Now I need to do something with this stuff.” I gaze at my old phone that’s lying on my desk, switched off and not ready to be turned on anytime soon. “It’s not the same, right? I don’t need to draw. I can just… craft something. It’s not the same.” Barkley sneezes. “Thanks for agreeing with me.”
I gaze at my phone again. “This would be so much easier if I could look up some tutorials. I haven’t done any crafts in ages.” My chest churns, the lump returning to its favorite place in my throat. No, I just can’t. It’s the first time in months that I feel somewhat relaxed, so I am not going to risk it. “I will wing it,” I tell Barkley. “Time to be spontaneous.”
Barkley tilts his head and yawns. “Yes, but not tonight.” I hop over him to go to the bathroom, taking a swift shower and brushing my teeth. Sometimes my thoughts go to my decoration project, and then further… how much better it could be if I actually made a little layout beforehand. But even thinking about taking a pen and drafting something makes my heart stutter and breathing more difficult.
