my sweet girl.
ellie williams x afab!reader
warnings: friends to lovers, virgin reader, ellie has a praise + innocence kink, fingering, oral r!receiving, facesitting, fondling, lots of kissing, you talk her through it, fluff !!!!
a/n: kinktober week 2 is here! writing this had me feeling some typa way,, ellie would never admit it but she’s def a praise kink girly
Today was different. Not because you were doing anything out of the ordinary — because you weren’t. You were hanging out with your friend Ellie, as you usually did on the weekends.
But you noticed that you’d let your eyes linger on her for a bit too long. And she let her eyes linger on you, too. You wondered if she always did that; if you only noticed because you felt confident enough to stare a bit more today.
Truthfully, your crush on Ellie developed a while ago. You were almost sure that it was obvious, considering how easily you’d agree to her — on everything.
But Ellie didn’t seem to mind. Or maybe she just didn’t notice? Either way, she really liked your presence.
She made that apparent, albeit casual with it. Some days she showed up with a smile on her face and a movie tucked under her arm. Other times, she’d alter the schedule, sneakily pairing herself with you for patrols. If she noticed you at the pub, she’d greet you before handing you a freshly poured drink.
Ellie naturally gravitated to you. And you, her. Being around her just felt good. It was the sound of her voice that brought you back to the present.
“It’s nice out.” She murmurs, turning her head to the side to look at you. She was laying horizontally on your bed.
“Yeah,” You replied, leaning your head back against the headboard. “Should we go and do something?”
She presses her lips into a thin line, then shakes her head.
“Rather stay in here. With you.” She says calmly.
You smiled meekly. “Okay.”
You continued to doodle in her sketchbook. She let you borrow it sometimes, to practice your drawing. You’d tell her not to bother, that you’d never be nearly as good as she was. But she always insisted, and you accepted — at the least, she’d have something to remind her of you.
“Can I see?” She asks, noticing the way your sketch held your attention.
“It’s your sketchbook,” You joked, handing it to her.
She took it with gentle hands, holding it open so she could look at it properly. She flickered her eyes from the book to you. “This is good, Y/N.”
“I don’t know,” You sighed. “Just… a silly drawing.”
“Your drawings aren’t silly.” She responds. “I think it’s nice.”
You shrugged, looking down at your hands. She passes it back to you.
“Why don’t you tear it out when you’re done?” She says. “So you can put it up.”
“Here? In the room?” You say with furrowed brows. You didn’t realize it was kind of a dumb question until after.
Ellie nods. “C’mon, it’ll look nice. It is nice.”
You look down at her bashfully. “I feel like you’re lying.”
“Well… I’m not,” She states. “And if you don’t hang it up, then I will. At my place.”
Your eyes widen. You can feel your cheeks go warm as you tuck your hair behind your ear.
“You… you serious?” You ask.
“Do I look like I’m not?”
You felt your face blush even more. But you muster up the courage to slowly meet her gaze. Her eyes are set on you, and they don’t look away.
“You always look serious,” You comment, shyly.
“Yeah… that part’s true.” She says, looking down at your lap. “Still tryin’ to work on that.”
“It’s okay. I mean… I don’t mind how you look.” You cleared your throat, looking out the window. “You’re pretty, Ellie.”
Ellie could feel her heartbeat grow in her chest. Her gaze softens as she glances at you. Then she shifts to put her hands behind her head.
“You’re prettier,” She adds, kicking her foot. “You’re always… like, gentle, and stuff.”
“You don’t know that,” You say, grinning. “Maybe I’m just that way around you.”
“Oh yeah?” She smirks. “Guess I’m pretty lucky, huh?”
You giggled. “Only so far.”
The room gets quiet again. You swore that during times like these, you could hear her breathing.
“Can I ask you something?” She says, interrupting the silence.
You nodded, closing the sketchbook.
“Have you ever, like…” She sighs. “Dated anyone? Or did stuff?”
Your heart skips a beat at her question. Ellie had never asked about this kind of subject before. And you’d never expect it from her — she wasn’t the type to openly delve into gossip.
You fiddled your thumbs at the thought. Ellie must be quite curious.
“Dated, yeah.” You murmured. “Doing stuff… not really.”
“Oh.” She mumbles. “Is it just, like, not your thing… or…”
“No,” You sigh. “Moreso the person. I think I wanted to like them, but I didn’t really like them. They weren’t… a good match for me.”
Ellie nods. Another minute goes by before she looks back up at you.
“So, then… what’s a good match for you?”
You brought your knees up to your chest.
“It’s a secret,” You whisper playfully.
“Secret?” She feigns shock. “I thought we were being honest here!”
You laughed.
Deep down, you were scared to confess your feelings to Ellie. You didn’t wanna ruin a good thing. But she’s always been soft when it comes to you, so maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Do you really wanna know?” You questioned after a minute, looking back over at her.
She raises her eyebrows. “I— I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything—“
“I’m not uncomfortable, Ellie,” You say. “Just… nervous, to like, say it.”
She watches you carefully. She swallows firmly, then folds her bottom lip beneath her teeth.
“Well… I wouldn’t… judge you, if you told me, you know.” She says quietly. “I might judge the person, but… not you.”
“That doesn’t really help, in this case.” You exhale shakily. Her eyes widen as she tries to figure out what you mean.
“Because… I like you,” You admit. “And… I think we would be a good match, Ellie.”
It’s quiet for a moment. A stray gust of wind blows through the window, causing the sheer curtains to sway gently. You maintained eye contact with the brunette, awaiting her answer.
“Did…” She clears her throat. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes.” You reply. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time, now.”
When she looks at you, her expression isn’t hardened. She’s studying you, tenderly. You can almost see a sliver of hope in her eyes.
Her eyes flutter as she tries to form a coherent sentence. “Um—“
“But you—“ You look off to the side, fearful of rejection. “You don’t have to say anything, Els.”
“No, I—“ Ellie huffs. “I’ve had a crush on you, too, Y/N. Since the first time we talked.”
Your breathing becomes shallow. You look over at her again; her eyes haven’t left your face.
“R-Really?”
She nods carefully, lifting her finger to scratch the tip of her ear. “I just, I didn’t think you felt the same way about me.”
You laugh under your breath. “How could I not?”
Ellie wrinkles her lips, bashfully. “I’m… not very lovely. Kinda just… me, y’know.”
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, so you were laying next to her in a similar position now. You rest your chin against your palm.
“I think you’re very lovely, Ellie.” You whisper. “And I like you a lot.”
She smiles, looking down at your lips. Her eyelashes flutter again. When her voice comes out, it’s like a whisper.
“Could… can I—“
“Yeah,” You cut her off, not even waiting to give her permission.
Ellie takes another moment to study your lips before propping herself up. At first she leaves her hands on the bed, but then she decides to cup the side of your face. She caresses your cheek with her thumb slowly — she wants to savor this moment — and listens to the sound of her heart beating.
She doesn’t want to close her eyes, but she thinks it’d be weird if she doesn’t, so she settles on doing so. Her nose brushes up against yours as her lips press gently against your own.
She kisses you like if she kisses any harder, you’d break. You can feel her holding her breath, trying to do it right. She pulls away after a few seconds.
“Was…” She exhales. ��Was that okay?”
You nod, your lips spreading into a smile. “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“I know, I know.” She looks down at your lips again. “Just… didn’t wanna fuck it up.”
“You can’t fuck up a kiss,” You reply. “Unless… wait, is this your first time?”
“No— shit, did it seem like it?” She asks with wide eyes.
“No, no.” You giggle. “But you’re so nervous, I—“
“‘Cause— you— you’re so fucking pretty,” She retorts, facepalming as she blushes. “It’s hard.”
You bite your lip, tucking a stray piece of her away from her face. “Then do it again.”
Her eyes light up. “Yeah?”
“As many times as you want,” You murmur. “Why not?”
Ellie could feel warmth swell in her chest. This is why she loved being around you. You never made her feel bad for being the way she is. And yet, you somehow gave her the encouragement that made her feel like she could do anything in the world.
She doesn’t talk this time. Merely takes a breath, then leans in. She kisses you slow, taking the time to actually feel your lips. They were soft and sweet, just like you. Ellie swears she could stay right here forever.
When she pulls away, she keeps her eyes closed as she steadies her breathing. “Better?”
“Yeah,” You reply. “Let’s do it some more.”
If you had opened your eyes, you would have seen the way Ellie looked at you before you grabbed her face. But you didn’t, and she’s thankful, because she’s frozen in place for the first few seconds.
You had your hands in her hair as you pulled her top lip between yours. The tiniest moan escapes from her throat as she tries her best to re-focus and kiss you back. After a moment, she pulls away by a centimeter, then turns her head to the other side.
The two of you kiss several more times before she draws back. You look at her with expectant eyes.
“I—“ She stutters. “I’ve gotta… if we keep going, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”
“So don’t,” You explain, leaning to kiss her again. She pulls away.
“No, I mean…” Her face flushes even more. “God, this is so fucking embarrassing.”
At first you’re confused, but when your eyes flash down, you realize what she meant. Her nipples are poking through her shirt. She has her hands pulling at her button-up, trying to cover them.
You gently grab her wrists.
“Hey, it’s okay—“
“It’s not,” She insists. “I… I feel like a fuckin’ pervert. It’s only a fucking kiss, and I’m getting turned on—“
“Ellie—“
“I’m ruining it—“
“Ellie.” You say sternly, holding her hands still. “You’re not ruining anything, okay? It’s fine. If… if that’s what your body’s telling you, then…”
She watches you deliberately. “Then what?”
“Then… we could try it,” You whisper. “If you want.”
“Wh—“ She stutters. “But, what do you want? I don’t want you to feel like I’m going too fast—“
“I’m fine, Ellie. Promise.” You say. “I wanna try it, too.”
A damp spot began to form in Ellie’s underwear. She was so careful not to come on too strong, and here you were, practically begging her to take you all the way. She was shocked. Her head felt like it was spinning.
“You… you want me to be your first?”
You nodded.
“I— I don’t know if I can do that.” She blinks a few times before clarifying herself. “Not that I don’t want to — I really, really fucking want to — but I just, I don’t know if I’m gonna be good enough for you.”
“You’re already good enough for me,” You mumble, staring at her lips again.
“I mean it, Y/N, I—“ She sighs. “I don’t want your first time to be any less than perfect.”
“And it won’t be, as long as it’s with you.” You stroke her shoulder. “I… I want this, Ellie.”
She stares at you, still concerned.
“And even still, I’ll totally show you. I… I can tell you what feels good.”
After hearing you say that, Ellie swears her panties become a pool. She never thought about this before. She never thought about you telling her how to please you. Letting her know when she’s doing you right, and hitting the right spot. She can only imagine how pretty your voice would sound as she’s tongue deep in your cu—
“Ellie?” You say, bringing her out of her head. “If you changed your mind—“
“No, I—“ She places her hand on the back of your neck. “I’d never. I was just thinking.”
You smile. “Okay. Well, I’m right here, when you wanna start doing instead of thinking.”
She smirks to herself, nodding before removing her button up and tossing it on the floor. She’s wearing a black undershirt underneath, which fit tight around her upper arms. You resist the urge to whistle lowly.
“Lookin’ good, Els.”
She grins sheepishly. “I guess.”
Her hair droops down into her face as she slowly gets on top of you.
“Should’ve gotten a hair tie.”
“I’ll hold it for you,” You say, quickly moving your hands up to hold her hair back.
She leans down, grinning into your lips. “Thanks.”
She’s more confident when she kisses you this time. For the first few, it’s close-lipped, and then she feels the urge to explore. She swipes her tongue across your lower lip, and you copy her. She takes it as an invitation into your mouth, and she quickly begins toying with your tongue.
You vocalize a moan, which comes out awkwardly muffled. But Ellie didn’t care. She liked where this was going.
She uses her thumb to pull your mouth open even more. Her kissing becomes desperate, as if she needed you to breathe. You struggled to fully hold her hair as her movements became more passionate, but you tried anyway.
When she pulls away, a small string of spit connects the two of you. She emits a low groan at the sight.
“Fuck,” She whispers. “You’re so pretty like this.”
You look up at her with lustful eyes. “Can you take my clothes off?”
She stares at you before complying, gently pulling your shirt over your head. Her hands trail down the front of your body before hooking under your pant loop and pulling down. You decide to help her when it came to removing your panties.
When she’s done undressing you, she takes the time to fully look at the sight before her. Your bare body was glistening under the fading sunlight. She never thought she’d get the chance to see you under her, much less naked.
“You too,” You add, gesturing to her tank top. She nods before disrobing as well.
She looks down at your body. “Do you want—“
“Ellie,” You interrupt, reaching up to fondle her. Her breasts were perky, and her nipples a pale shade of pink. You eventually slide your hands down onto her hips. “You’ve been hiding all this beauty the whole time?”
She blushes again, speechless from your sudden compliment.
“God.” You whisper. “Ellie, you— your body… it’s stunning.”
Any previous train of thought is cleared from Ellie’s mind. She has no idea what to think or say, or even how to speak, for that matter. All she knows is that, if she’s not careful, she might cum from your words alone.
So she leans down instead, pressing her nose to your chest. She inhales your scent before tilting up and wrapping her lips around your breast. If she was honest, she didn’t want just your nipple — she wants to consume it all. Her other hand massages your other tit.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you gently pulled on her scalp. The sensations she’s giving you made you gasp, thighs pressing together on their own.
She eventually switches over to the other side, and does the same thing. This time, she flits her green eyes up at you, carefully watching the faces you make. She drags her free hand down from the side of your breast to your waist, squeezing gently.
“Everything okay?” She whispers.
“Y-Yeah,” You whimper, looking down at her. “That felt really nice.”
She pulls away, leaning forward for one more kiss.
“Can I go down on you?” She asks quietly.
You hum in agreement, and she grins. She brings herself down til her face is just below your bellybutton.
“Smells so good,” She says, placing a small kiss on your pelvis. You prop yourself up against your elbows so you can get a better view looking down.
“I’m gonna lick it a bit,” She says softly. “Wanna know if it feels good.”
“Okay,” You grin.
The first stroke of her tongue is drawn out, almost painfully so. Your mouth watered. You craved the stimulation so bad, it was hard to remind yourself to be patient. But you knew Ellie had more experience than you, so it’s not worth rushing.
The licks after begin feeling much better against your skin. Ellie moaned a few times into your pussy, each noise making you gently rock yourself down against her mouth.
“Fuck—“
She pulls back, only by a centimeter. “Tastes like heaven.”
“Your tongue feels like heaven,” You reply. “It’s— it’s amazing—“
When she goes back in again, she begins to try different techniques. She creates a suction on your cunt while flicking her tongue against your clit. She also just kisses it, making out with it like she’d make out with you.
You told her you’d give her advice and yet, she didn’t need any. Everything she did just felt so fucking good.
“S’ good.” You drawl, rubbing your thigh against the side of her neck. “Want your tongue down there forever.”
Ellie’s own cunt throbs as she hears those words. She hums gently into your pussy, kissing it for a few more minutes before looking up at you.
“What else do you wanna try?”
You look around for a moment. “I— I was… well, I don’t know if you’d wanna.”
“Wanna what, baby?” She asks. “Tell me.”
“Could…” You sigh. “Could I sit on your face? You know what I mean, right? Not actually sit, but—“
She chuckles a bit. “Yeah, I know. But you could just sit on it, too.”
Ellie flips over so she’s on her back. You lean forward and crawl to where she is before scrunching your lips. “What if you couldn’t breathe?”
“Then I’d die happy,” She replies, giving two light taps on your ass. You take it as a signal to lower yourself down on her.
Something about having you on top of her flips a switch in Ellie. She begins absolutely devouring you like Thanksgiving dinner, arms caging you in so you can’t move away.
“Holy shit,” You grunt. Ellie continues to lap up your juices, licking and sucking them down.
You run your fingers through her sweaty hair. “Mm— fuck. That’s so good, Els. Feels so fuckin’ good.”
Ellie’s losing her mind at the praise. Her hand absentmindedly falls between her legs. She’s needy in the way she fingers her pussy, before getting an idea.
She reaches up and grabs your hand, then gently guides it towards her slick cunt. Unsure of what to do, you begin rubbing circles. It seems to work — Ellie’s breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she continues eating you out.
While Ellie sucks on your clit, you form a rhythm on hers. You try to stay consistent, but it’s hard to focus. You can feel a ball of pressure forming deep in your tummy.
“Ellie,” You groan out, using your other hand to stabilize yourself for support. “I— I think you might make me cum.”
Unconsciously, you grind down on Ellie’s tongue. Your hand remains on her clit as she reaches down and begins pumping her fingers in and out of her hole.
“Cum for me, baby.” She mumbles against your cunt. “Wanna taste it.”
“Yeah?” You whine.
You weren’t sure what made you say your next words, or where it even came from, but it comes out while you’re riding her face.
“Gonna— gonna be a good girl ‘nd make me cum?”
“Fuck, yes,” She grunts, palm tightening around your ass.
Hearing you talk like that instantly makes her a thousand times wetter. She begins sucking on your clit more ferociously as you move your hand to push your hair out of your face.
“So good— you’re makin’ me feel so good, Ellie.” You mewl, feeding her reaction to your words. “This pussy’s all for you. Nobody else.”
A guttural moan comes out from Ellie. You weren’t sure if the compliments were too much, or if she could breathe properly, but you noticed the way she was fingering herself became stronger and more sloppy.
She pulled you down into her mouth, eyes rolled back into her head while she continued to absolutely abuse your pussy with her tongue.
“Oh— J-Just like that,” You stutter. “Fuck— please— just like that, just like that—“
When you erupt on her tongue, you feel unsteady. Your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably as your face scrunches up in pleasure. But Ellie keeps a firm hold on you, relishing in the way you tremble under her touch. She gets off soon after, tightening and pulsing around her own two fingers.
She gets in a few more kisses with your pussy before speaking. “Shit, baby.”
You giggle, letting out a deep breath. “That was… really hot.”
“You’re really hot,” She says, looking up at you and planting one last kiss on your clit. You blush.
“Didn’t know what I was missing out on.” You murmur, climbing off of her. “I… I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner.”
Ellie thinks for a moment before sitting up. She smiles. “I’m really glad you didn’t.”
“Me, too.” You reply.
You lean in once more, placing another kiss on her lips before turning her cheek and kissing her, there, too. Ellie grabs your hand and presses her lips to the back of it.
“My sweet girl.” She whispers. “I’m so glad I could make you mine.”
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Golden Days
soap x pianist!fem!reader - written for @glitterypirateduck holiday challenge
A quiet coffee shop is the perfect place for Johnny to relax and get his mind off things. But he finds he enjoys it a bit more when someone starts playing the old, beat up piano.
masterlist
warnings: none! super fluffy! short and sweet. maybe slightly ooc soap because i don't write for him super often...
wc: 1.7k
a/n: inspired by the original lyrics to "have yourself a merry little christmas." i think that version deserves some more love.
Getting some R & R was always easier said than done, and Johnny found that he always had to keep his hands busy while he was on leave. Whether it was a quick skirmish of footy, hitting the gym, or even going for a walk, he was always in motion. But as the weather got cruddy with the bitter December wind and the pavement slick with what little snow dusted the lands, he found himself stuck to drawing. Simple sketches, he liked to call them. Silly doodles that meant little to nothing.
A majority of his journal was full of fragments of the world. A favela in Brazil where the buildings and homes seemed to stretch forever; a watermelon with a knife sticking out of it; diagrams of various ships and vehicles; the works. And he’d write some snarky comment or make fun of his captain in the privacy of ink and paper. His home away from home, whenever he was feeling sentimental, anyway.
Even as he enjoyed a fresh cup of coffee in his favorite mom-and-pop’s cafe, he drew. At first he started out with attempting to draw his cup of coffee, logo and all, until he realized that it would be lukewarm at best by the time he got the sketch how he liked it. Instead, he opted to drink his coffee while he scribbled down a Christmas tree. Might as well keep it to memory when the older gentleman who made his coffee had obviously spent so much effort into decorating it. Dazzling lights, gold tinsel and ribbons, and a glowing star at the very top. He wouldn’t be able to catch all the details, but it was enough.
A cold chill blew past the exposed skin on his forearm as the door opened and closed with a ringing bell. By habit, Johnny quickly glanced up towards the entrance where he saw you, bundled up in a winter outfit. He had never seen you before, which didn’t surprise him because he was hardly home enough to recognize most faces anymore. Your smile instantly warmed the shop back up as you grinned at the old man behind the counter.
“About time you showed up,” the old geezer teased as you approached him. “The usual?”
Sweet, Johnny thought. There was always something endearing about the love elders held for younger generations. Their knowing gazes, their kind smiles, although usually mischievous too. The owner got to work on making your cup of coffee, and as you waited you began to wander around the shop. Decorated head to toe in pine and all the gold decorations in the world, it was a bright warm corner in the sleepy city.
Naturally, you eventually made your way over to an upright piano pushed up against the wall next to the Christmas tree. Somehow, it was beautiful and ugly at the same time. Faded ivory keys, but a beautiful dark stained wood for the body, and it was also missing the upper panel, exposing the hammers and strings. It looked like it had been through hell and back, yet still stood proudly like the day it was made.
“Why don’t you play us something?” the owner suggested, his hands still busy with making your drink.
You paused just as your fingers brushed against the keys before throwing a cautious glance around the shop. No one else was in the shop besides Johnny, who you threw a polite smile towards before your eyes settled back on the older man.
“Maybe another time,” you deflected, eyes flickering over to Johnny. “Don’t want to scare away your customers.”
“Aye, don’t worry about me,” Johnny spoke up. He waved a graphite covered hand at you, pencil still nestled between his fingers. “I don’t mind a bit of music.”
The internal struggle was obvious in your eyes, and Johnny turned his attention back to his drawing in an attempt to keep the pressure off of you. Eventually he heard a slight creak of wood as the ancient stool settled underneath your weight. Johnny couldn’t help but glance back up at you as your fingers ghosted over the keys, petting them almost, before you dove headfirst into a dreamy chord.
“What the hell?” you exclaimed, the music quickly cutting off.
Boisterous laughter erupted from the owner as he leaned against the counter, your cup of coffee next to him. You looked at him with wild eyes and mouth slightly agape.
“You tuned this piece of junk?” you questioned.
The old man held his arms to the side and shrugged. “Merry Christmas.”
With some newfound vigor, your attention returned back to the piano in front of you before you played that chord once more, that time with more confidence. It was such a soft, beautiful melody; something that reminded Johnny of his childhood somehow, yet he couldn’t quite place it. Some sort of nostalgia hidden deep in his chest that started to ache and burn.
And then you started to sing.
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It may be your last.”
That… wasn’t how he remembered the song going. Blue eyes tore away from his journal as Johnny looked up at you. With your back turned to him, it was impossible to see your face, but he watched as your arms moved and fingers danced, how your body swayed with the beat and your feet tapped on the pedals.
“Next year we may all be living in the past. Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Pop that champagne cork. Next year we may all be living in New York.”
So much for making the Yule-tide gay. There was something a little more somber about this version of the song you performed, something that had both Johnny and the shop owner completely enamored. Between your singing and the lights of the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over you, it was something straight out of an odd, demented Hallmark movie.
“No good times like the olden days, happy golden days of yore. Faithful friends who were dear to us, will be near to us no more.”
There was a slight pause in the music. A prolonged chord that rang on the exposed shimmering strings of the piano. The moving hammers fell still in the exposed skeleton of the piano. After a moment, your head fell slightly as you continued on to finish the rest of the song.
“But at least we all will be together. If the Lord allows. From now on, we’ll have to muddle through somehow. So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.”
Notes sang and died down into silence as the song ended. You sat there for a short while before sliding off of the bench and awkwardly facing the rest of the mostly empty shop. The owner gave you a few well-natured claps, to which you bowed sarcastically to before approaching the counter once more to retrieve your drink. But Johnny was still dumbfounded.
“Beautiful. Haven’t heard that version before,” he spoke up, setting his pencil along the center of his journal where it rested between the pages. He leaned back in his seat, stunning blue eyes taking in the sight of you.
You turned to him with a sheepish smile, hands wrapped around the warm center of your cup. “It’s the original version Judy Garland wrote, actually. The one they deemed too depressing and asked her to change.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Really?”
“Yeah. I always liked this version better,” you explained.
Somehow during your short conversation, you had managed to meander closer to Johnny’s table, hand brushing against the chair across from him yet not braving to take the seat. He wasn’t ignorant to the way your eyes flickered down to his journal, or how your lips tugged into a small smile at the sight of it.
“Pretty,” you commented, nodding towards the journal.
Instinctively, Johnny glanced down at his work, and he could feel his throat grow a little tight. There was the luxurious Christmas tree he had sketched, with the dazzling ornaments, then there was the dimensions of the walls behind it, and then there was a half finished sketch of you, sitting at the piano facing away from him.
“Aye, it’s something I guess,” he chuckled, hands playing with the edge of the paper.
He blamed the glow of the lights for making you so beautiful. Like some sort of angel that should have been sitting on top of a tree rather than talking with someone like him. But you are there, and you’re real, and you ask him his name and give him yours and he swears that whole conversation feels like coming home. Like he never belonged anywhere else except in that coffee shop with you. Maybe he was just feeling sentimental.
“Well, I, uh, have to get going,” you said eventually, eyes awkwardly darting to the clock that rested above Johnny’s head on the wall. “But I’ll be back here around the same time tomorrow. I could… play you a happier song.”
It was impossible for him to hide his grin as he stared up at you. Of course he agreed, and he found himself getting more excited for it than he should have been. You give him a sheepish wave as you exit the shop, the bell ringing with your absence as you dissipate down the street. Things grew quiet again as it was just Johnny and the old shopkeeper, who was busy cleaning his machines. He looked back down at his journal and fiddled with his pencil as he thought about how to finish up his sketch. A part of him wished you came into the shop earlier. He would have put you at the center of the picture rather than that tree.
“She’s single,” the man suddenly spoke up.
When Johnny looked up, he realized the man was looking at him, and he wasn’t all too secretive about the mischievous glint he had in his eyes either. Really, he wasn’t quite sure what to say in response.
“Yeah? That’s some intel you got,” he said, slightly stiff and a bit sarcastic.
“She likes the Italian restaurant two blocks down the road,” the man continued. “I’m sure she would say yes if you asked her to go with you.”
At that, Johnny had to chuckle, and it sounded something like a warm grumble in his chest, as if he was actually attempting to entertain the idea. Still smiling, he glanced down at his journal again, finger tapping against the paper.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It may be your last.
Well, perhaps he could entertain that thought after all.
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