What I Like (or love) About You
Anon prompt: Okay u n Erin r cousins and u get rlly sad w/urself one night and drive to her apartment but shes not there so u go to the firehouse and only Holtzmann is there so she tries to make u feel better my listing everything she loves about u (maybe kisses?
It’d been a really rough day. Pretty much nothing had gone right at all. The weather was terrible (but this was mostly due to the fact that it was unexpectedly cold and wet, meaning you weren’t dressed for the occasion), your friend who you had really been looking forward to lunching with had cancelled without a decent excuse and the rest of the day had been unproductive and sluggish. Generally a bad mental health day and you were also upset with yourself for being so consumed with the misery of it all.
So you decide that you needed to do something fun. Or at least to be around someone fun. Unsure of who to message first, you change out of the dirty mismatched pajamas, a downer in themselves, you had only put on twenty minutes ago and wash your face. Remembering some article on self care you’d read a while back you put on some comfy ‘nice’ sweats, your favourite tee and some perfume, touching it lightly to your wrists and behind your ears. You remember that your cousin Erin had left a standing invitation to come hang out with her at the firehouse if you ever wanted, but the thought of calling right now only to be told she was busy too much so you decide to throw caution to the wind and show up on the doorstep regardless. If she’s not there, there’s a great bakery just around the corner and you can drown your sorrows in cupcakes just as well alone as you can with her.
Knocking tentatively with one hand as you enter the side door left ajar for some reason, you try to keep the reasonably large cardboard box upright.
‘Hello? Erin? Your favourite cousin is here! I brought cake and despair,’ you call, rather dramatically because you’re getting the sense that there’s no one here anyways. Disappointed at the lack of response, you still close the door behind you, placing the box on a nearby bench and slinking to the floor against the wall. You close your eyes, letting your head rest against the cool brick and contemplate taking a nap right here. Everyone must be done for the day and there’s obviously no security system. Besides, it’s as if you were already invited...
You hear the gentle brush of cardboard on cardboard and open your eyes to see Holtzmann with one finger deep in the icing of a pink cupcake. She brings it to her lips, regarding you.
‘Well, I, for one, am glad you’re not my cousin, but you may be my favourite,’ she says, sucking the tip of her finger and bringing the entire box to the floor as she sits opposite you, cross-legged.
You smile weakly, amused and surprised at her appearance, and slightly embarrassed by her comment. You try to cover up the latter.
‘Why, yes, of course, you should help yourself,’ you say, sitting up straighter and bringing one knee to your chest.
‘Why thank you, she grins, picking up a different cupcake to the one she had already touched, peeling away the paper casing. She takes a huge bite. ‘Oh yes, this is good stuff, you should try some!’
She plops a generous dollop of chocolate icing on your cheek, which makes you grin back in response. The banter is reviving you and you’re starting to feel a lot better through this positive interaction, no longer minding the previous events of the day and the fact that Erin was nowhere to be found. As you wipe the icing off your cheek and eat it (damn, it’s good!) it dawns on you that you ought to explain why you’re there and ask about Erin’s whereabouts, but Holtzmann doesn’t give you the chance to open your mouth.
‘Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful always, but today you’re looking sad and beautiful,’ she starts. ‘Wanna talk about it?’
There’s concern plainly in her eyes, along with something you can’t quite put the finger on. You’re used to her flirtatious manner, and the abundance of compliments she willingly gives you at every interaction but you don’t really want to burden her with how you’re feeling, so you say so. With a comforting hand on your knee, she nods empathetically, hair falling over her face and you feel the urge to brush it away for her. You resist, for now.
‘If you wanna talk about it, it’s not a burden to me. I’m here for you. If not, we can eat and talk about anything else. Or just eat. These are really good,’ you know she’s not being insensitive, because this sentiment touches you and has just the right amount of playfulness to it. Maybe it’s the sugar or her hand millimeters from your skin, but you’re suddenly feeling a lot better. When she retracts it, you can still feel the warm place where it just was.
‘I’d love to sit here and eat cake and talk with you, Holtz,’ you say, pinching off a bit of cake out of her hand, rather than taking a cupcake for yourself.
She pretends to swat your hand away, smirking.
‘Oh we’re going to have to teach you a lesson in manners,’ she whispers, sending shivers down your spine. ‘Kidding,’ she says, returning to her regular voice. ‘I love how generous you are.’
You’re blushing now, but curious to see where this line of conversation is to go. So you play along.
‘Oh, is that so? I am pretty good at that,’ you say, gesturing towards the box. She nods.
‘And how kind,’ she says, nibbling at her second cake.
‘Smart,’ she says, though her brow furrows when you snort in disbelief.
‘You’re very modest,’ she says pointedly. ‘Almost to the point where it becomes infuriating.’
You giggle a little, breathless and embarrassed by her kindness. You felt so awkward, but a good kind of awkward.
‘As far as you’ve seen anyways,’ you wink suggestively, way overcompensating for the discomfort you’re feeling.
‘With a great sense of humour too,’ she says, eyes crinkling in the corners. She seemed calm, happy, and so close to you. This was a different side to what yo’d seen before of Holtzmann. You’d seen snapshots of her personality but this felt so much more bare and intimate. She breaks through your muddled thoughts easily.
‘And that’s just your brain,’ she turns her head slightly and tucks her hair behind an ear, running fingertips through her hair and looks at you out of the corner of her eye. You can sense that you’re currently on the same wavelength and it feels strange, exciting and somewhat inevitable.
‘Oh, by the way, you’ve got some icing left on your cheek,’ she says, gesturing vaguely to the area where you must not have wiped it off properly. As you reach up to wipe it off properly, her hand moves, lightning fast to lace her fingers with yours. You don’t pull away, but squeeze gently.
‘Can I get that for you?’ she says, moving in slowly. Her legs move to uncross as she eases onto her knees. You nod, still holding both her hand and eye contact. As if in slow motion her face moves towards yours. Its both a surprise and completely unexpected when her lips touch your cheek ever so gently, then firmer as you realise her intention is to kiss the stray icing from your face.
Pulling her by the waist until she is almost in your lap, you nudge the box out of the way with your foot before wrapping that leg around her. She plants kisses along your jawline, murmuring things she likes about you with each one as you run your fingers through her hair. You’re trying not to grin so much, because this has clearly been long-awaited by both parties and just feels so organic. Not because you want it to stop, but because you have to say something, you pull away ever so slightly, but she curls further into you.
‘Okay, it’s my turn now,’ you say after some time. She looks up.
‘I could tell you,’ you whisper, gently biting your lip. ‘Or I could show you.’
It’s now not your own lip held gently between your teeth.
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