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For the tenth time now since entering the cozy living room, he glanced at the large clock. His nerves were nearly eating him whole but at the same time, he was impatient for the time to finally come when he would see her again.

And then again, he checked for the time, this time glancing at his wristwatch. One that she had given him on a previous Christmas that now seemed almost too distant. One that he has long since treasured.

Almost immediately, his thoughts flew back to past memories, to past Christmases—most but the last few spent warmly by her side. And now, he would get his Christmas wish of the past few Decembers spent alone—he would see her again.

“Junhyung?”

His heart skipped a beat—several beats—at the sound of his name coming from an all too familiar voice.

Slowly, he turned to the sound of her voice, facing her fully. There she stood, beautiful cream dress, her hair falling like waves, framing her small face and bright eyes. As if the 3 years apart never happened, there she was in front of him, watching him expectantly.

He could only stare—taking all of her in through his hungry and deprived eyes that missed her so. It was almost like a dream, and the mountain of emotions he felt brewing inside threatened to fall down on him if he let one whisper escape from his lips.

He could only stare.

And she stared back, not realizing how much she had missed him until she found him rooted on the spot in the middle of her living room. Not anticipating the lump that stuck on and the moisture beginning to coat her eyes heavily at the sight of him.

She recovered first, squinting her eyes—playfully—at his stony stance. She wished the distance between them to already close. She wished him in her arms again, to confirm he was really there. That he had really waited. That three years had passed and he was here to tell her he still loved her, more than anyone.

That it wasn’t bad news.

“If you don’t give me back my Junhyung,” she threatened teasingly, “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to murder you”

He snapped into reality, his face playing into a smirk at her words. She hadn’t changed, and he was thankful for it. He wouldn’t know what to do if this moment played out as awkwardly as he feared in his thoughts. He hadn’t anticipated that she would be able to ease the tension as easily as she had like their past days. But he was glad; she was the only one who could ever lighten his unease and timidity—a result of his introverted nature. Although she was shy too, she could be surprisingly outgoing when she wanted to be.

He saw her lips part again, ready for another verbal battering at his long-winded silence. He wouldn’t give her another chance—swiftly, he closed the distance between them, pulling her into him in a tight embrace as his other hand held her face close to his.

It was her who closed the distance between their lips, and him who responded with a little more pressure. She couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, butterflies going rampant in her stomach as his mouth moved against hers. She couldn’t remember the last time a kiss made her feel like this.

They parted lips, gasping, for one instant and her head dove for his chest into a tight hug. She had to keep his lips off her for a moment to think properly. Another kiss would send her flying into wonderland and she didn’t think she could handle another electrifying kiss without forgetting what she wanted to tell him—and without it going much further than just a kiss.

“I love you…” she whispered, her face buried in his chest. It was all she could muster to say—and all she really needed to. The long speech she prepared earlier in preparation for this much anticipated moment was already long forgotten and it really only boiled down to those three words.

He opted for another passionate kiss in reply, he wasn’t sure if he had gotten his voice back yet. She eagerly accepted.

A storm was exchanged between the two wordlessly, communicating only though touch. And as the kiss deepened, she felt his hands wander feverishly around her intricately woven dress, trying to find a way to slip it off of her. He felt a tinge of guilt—it was a beautiful dress, and it looked even better on her, but he couldn’t wait to have it strewn on the floor on some far corner.

It was a pity the dress didn’t have a zipper in the back, like all other typical dresses. Impatiently, he was forced to tear it slightly in an effort to have it removed. It worked, and he was thankful he didn’t need to completely demolish the pretty dress just to get it off.

He heard her giggle though the kiss at his struggles, and he found himself smiling in embarrassment. He was surprised at how much it turned him on to hear her laugh. He felt her own hands explore his body, slipping under his dress shirt—but her delicate hands were careful not to tear anything, almost as if she was mocking him. He took note.

It was only getting hotter by the second, and soon the heat they radiated from their bodies matched the flames in her fireplace burning silently just a few feet away. He knew she wanted him just as urgently as he needed her, if her fingers tugging forcefully at his dress pants were any indication.

They parted lips again, exchanging one last meaningful glance before they were pushed over the edge—And then hungrily, he attacked her neck, lifting her legs off the floor and wrapping them around his waist as he stumblingly made his way for her room.