✉ / xavier & talia
send me a '✉' for five times my muse didn't text yours, and one time they did
the leadership meeting had been dragging for 45 minutes and 13 seconds. xavier knew this because he'd checked his phone under the conference table six times, and each glance reminded him that talia still hadn't texted either. not that he was waiting. not that he cared. he did care that his father was talking about q1 projections and asian market expansion in the same commanding drone that had haunted xavier's entire childhood. while he'd learned to tune it out by age 13, he had to, at least, appear engaged and competent. but then his phone vibrated against his thigh, and his heart did something embarrassing. it was only a cnn alert about bitcoin crashing, and he remembered to breathe again, air coming out slowly between his teeth. restless, he opened his messages anyway, because apparently he had no self-control whatsoever.
[ → miss mistletoe 🍒 ] : had fun the other night. we should do it again sometime [ → miss mistletoe 🍒 ] : if you see my tie, let it know i miss it [ → miss mistletoe 🍒 ] : i can't stop thinking about you [ → miss mistletoe 🍒 ] : impossible to get anything done today. would blame you, but you probably like the idea too much. [ → miss mistletoe 🍒 ] : we should talk. dinner?
every draft sounded worse than the last, and he deleted them all with increasing frustration. they all appeared too eager, too professional, too needy. he thought, what was the protocol for this? they weren't dating—they'd just had mind-blowing sex at a work function. a work function where he'd begged her for a kiss under the mistletoe, then followed her to a hotel room and spent the night showing her just how 'ungentlemanly' he could be. what the hell was he supposed to say now? with his heart slamming against his ribs, he decided to take the plunge and send a text before he could second-guess himself.
[ → miss mistletoe 🍒 ] : what are you doing tonight?
