Day 2: Micalea Smeltzer | 25 Days of Christmas

On the second day of 25 Days of Christmas, Micalea Smeltzer is sharing with us an exclusive sneak peek of her secret project coming 2020! 

© Micalea Smeltzer. 2019

I hesitate for a second outside his door before I knock loudly with the heel of my palm. This is a bad idea all around. Things have been tense between us, but I need him. I need him to make the pain go away. I need him to hold me together, because I’m not strong enough to do it right now.

I don’t hear anything, and I begin to worry that maybe he’s out. He isn’t even thirty yet. He’s bound to have a social life, one that keeps him out, and with women. God, the thought of it alone makes a lump form in my throat which is pathetic. He’s my guidance counselor, he’s eleven years older than me. I can’t be having these feelings for him or feel jealous over some imaginary woman he may or may not be with.

Inside the apartment Zeppelin lets out a booming bark.

I keep knocking.

I nearly fall on my butt when the door is jerked open.

He looks at me through squinted eyes. His black hair sticks up adorably like rumpled feathers I instantly want to reach up and smooth down. My hand even twitches to do it, but I catch myself. “It’s early, why are you here?”

“I—”

Clarity enters his eyes, all traces of sleep disappearing. “You can’t be here,” he hisses.

“Please,” I beg, before he can slam the door in my face, not that I think he would, but the visual of it alone amps up my desperation. “I need…”

“You need what?” He doesn’t say it hatefully, but I flinch anyway.

I want to be strong enough not to need anything from him or anyone. But the fact is, I’m only one person and I can’t deal with all these emotions on my own. Besides, everyone should have somebody and for some stupid reason my heart has chosen him to trust and share my feelings with.

“I need you.” I finally push the words out of my mouth.

I stare at the hard planes of his bare chest, slowly skimming up his wide throat, stubbled jaw, and finally landing on those blue eyes that see too much.

He raises one arm to the doorframe, resting his head against it. He lets out a ragged breath. His whole body shudders with it.

“You can’t need me. You just … can’t.”

I grip my hands to keep from reaching out and touching him. “But I do.”

He closes his eyes, his jaw snapped shut. He looks like he’s in the worst kind of physical pain and I hate that I’m the cause, but still I don’t turn to leave.