#not having a good May which is a bummer given its only the 19th but we persevere

[ef-1]

red | 03/01/2000?

+ yeah a hug is cool but sometimes you need to have a mental breakdown, send your friend photos of yourself crying and get told you look cunt

[cherrywrites626]

Fighting chapter 22 Sneak Peek:

Oh my goshhhh, guys! I forgot to post this! To make it up to anyone who feels betrayed by my lack of follow-through, here's like 300 words more than I was going to give you.

The batter sizzled as it touched down on the hot pan, pockets of air already beginning to appear in the short time it took him to reach for the spatula.  Lance hummed quietly along with the song playing on an endless loop in his head, hips swaying gently with the beat, watching as the gooey surface bubbled and browned around its edges.

The clock hanging on the wall to his left placed the hour at just before nine o’clock on the twenty-fourth of December.  If it were any other Thursday, he’d probably still be in bed that early.  Unfortunately for him, his excitement over the impending holiday found his eyes springing open at a quarter til eight with little hope to regain the last few fleeting vestiges of rest he’d been anticipating the night before.  

Of course, that was normal for him.  Christmas Eve in the McClain family was nearly as important of a date as Christmas itself.  And not only because it was his parent’s wedding anniversary, although that may have been a factor for them to initially treat it as a smaller holiday all of its own.  Despite the fact he wasn’t celebrating with his family that year, it was hard to hold himself back from wanting to upkeep the traditions he’d grown accustomed to at a young age, nostalgia wrapping around his shoulders like a heavy blanket of aching desire.  

Some things were a bit harder to attempt given the lack of supplies.  There was no tree to decorate, and even if he had the time and patience to transfigure the decorations to make such a feat possible, there wasn’t really enough space to do much.  Watching ridiculously sappy Christmas chick flicks was out—not that he’d ever admit how much of a bummer that was—as was sneaking into the holiday sweets and consuming so many he felt sick to his stomach.  In fact, most of the moments that came to mind involved something or someone unavailable to him, but there was one thing that he could do, and it helped to sate the growing thrum of anxious energy coursing through his veins.

The newfound freedom they’d earned a few days prior meant that it was perfectly acceptable for him to traverse the castle without forcing his roommate to follow behind him like a grumpy shadow—which was more or less a relief as he would prefer for everything to be a surprise once the Slytherin awoke at his usual time.  With a lightness he hadn’t felt in far too long, he made a quick run down to the kitchens to gather all the ingredients necessary to enact his plan, unable to keep the skip out of his step nor the smile off his face.

“What a bright time, it’s the right time to rock the night away,” he sang, bobbing on the balls of his feet and giving the cake in the pan a quick flip before it had the opportunity to burn.  His efforts were rewarded with the pleasing sight of deep-gold and honeyed hues, only the outermost ring still colored an off-white where it wasn’t able to properly sear.  Swishing his hips from side-to-side and dancing in place, he finished the remainder of the verse with a bit more pizzazz, voice carrying from a low baritone to a higher tenor.  “Jingle bell time is a swell time to go glidin’ in a one-horse sleigh! Giddy up—”

“Really,” came an amused snort from behind him, cutting off the enthusiasm just as he was about to begin going for it in earnest.  “Jingle Bell Rock?”

Heat flared on his cheeks in response to being caught in the act, clearing his throat and plating the hotcake before he turned around with an exaggerated scoff to hide his embarrassment.  “Excuse.  Just because you lack taste doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t know what’s good.”  To accentuate the point, he placed his hands on his hips, turning his nose in the air with a dramatic sniff.

Keith had been watching him with his arms folded atop the high counter on the opposite end of the kitchen, expression caught somewhere between curiosity and incredulity, still dressed in those annoyingly impeccable silk pyjamas of his that never quite managed to appear fully slept in.  At the minor insult shot his way, he tipped his head to the side, the hint of a smirk already starting to pull one corner of his mouth.  “Taste, hm?”

“Do you have a problem with that assessment,” he challenged in a haughty tone.

“No.”  Something bright sparkled in the Slytherin’s gaze, causing his skin to prickle beneath its intensity to the point of mild discomfort.  After a beat, he dropped his chin onto a loosely curled fist, humming low in contemplation.  “Hey, wasn’t that the same song and dance routine from Mean Girls?”

“Your point?”

His roommate gave a half-hearted shrug, lips twitching into an almost-smile.  “Nothing.  I was just making an observation.”  

Read the last chapter here and don't forget to look for the update December 19th.😘