#int. / sebastian. / deathvisited. /

[circellondon-blog]

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Send ❣ to kiss my muse at midnight,  💞for my muse to kiss yours || accepting

He’d invited her to the party and while she wasn’t entirely sure it had been a legitimate invitation- they both knew she was hardly a party person- she had decided to go. She liked spending time with Sebastian, and she didn’t think it would be the worst thing to meet his friends, meet people outside her own limited work circles… and part of her just wanted to be near him, wanted him near to her rather than away from her and partying with other people she didn’t know and couldn’t picture. 

It was a possessiveness she had no right to, she knew that. But that didn’t stop the creeping, suffocating feeling from inching up her throat until she found herself dressing nicer than she normally did, dressing worthy of a party, and making sure her face and hair were presentable as well before leaving and calling a car to take her to the address he’d given her. 

She followed the sounds of the party before she’d even needed to start looking at condo numbers, and the door was open, people having spilled out into the hall to leave room for movement in the home. She slipped through the crowd, looking for the man she’d come to see, but she couldn’t find him. He should be easy to find, his sheer height made him an easy target in a crowd, but she couldn’t spot him, and the noise and the crowds and the people and the bumping were making her anxiety spike and she felt her heart start to stutter. She needed to find Sebastian, she’d be alright if she could just find him, if she had his hand on her shoulder. But he was nowhere to be seen and she stumbled her way through the crowd to the open balcony door, gulping in the fresh air. It wasn’t uncrowded on the terrace, per say, but it was less crowded, and she could at least breath as she scanned what she could see of the indoor crowd for her Sebastian. 

Her eyes drifted closed, trying to calm her prickling skin and racing pulse, and before she’d even opened her eyes again, a blessedly familiar voice was in front of her, making her eyes fly open, relief etched across her features. 

Hey dollface. You came. He sounded surprised, and she felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, starting high on her cheekbones and crawling down her neck as green-blue eyes took her in. “I did, I hope that was alright.” Her voice was a little breathless, her body still recovering from the anxiety of not being able to find him, but her expression was relieved, nervous, content, all at once. 

He chuckled, stepping closer. I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you to come. He pointed out, worsening her blush as she nodded in agreement. “Oh, of course, I’m- sorry.” 

He reached out to wind a lock of hair around his finger for a split second before dropping it. Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you came. 

“I wanted to see you.” She said with a small shrug, a sweet smile, and that damnable blush, eyes up on him from under dark lashes. 

I always want to see you. He said softly, eyes running over her features. She rose up on her tiptoes, and he didn’t wait for a second invitation despite the crowd around them, and bent down to press his lips to hers, letting his hand brush back into her hair as her own skimmed over his chest. Happy New Years, Cers. He whispered when they pulled back, and she smiled cheekily. 

“I think we- what’s the phrase? Jumped the gun a bit, on that.” 

[circellondon-blog]

💞

Send ❣ to kiss my muse at midnight,  💞for my muse to kiss yours || accepting

She hadn’t wanted to invite him to her home, unsure he was comfortable enough with her to accept such an invitation, but she’d poked around to see if he’d had plans, and when he mentioned he didn’t, she’d asked if he wanted to join her. Louis had invited Verity to celebrate with him, and Circe had nudged the girl to join him- she for whatever reason genuinely liked the fighty, flirty redheaded boy, and he seemed taken with her. She would never demand her best friend not enjoy her night just to relax with Circe at home, as had been her plans before deciding to try to lure Sebastian to spend his celebration with her.

They ended up at her bakery, a small television on in the back so they could listen to the countdown as she brought out a cake she’d made the day before, decorated with the sugar pearls he’d admired, done in white and gold and black and with ‘2019′ in script across the top. She’d presented it to him with a grinning flourish, asking if he wanted to taste test it with her, and they’d both dug in, talking about everything and nothing and watching people be ridiculous and drunken on national television just for their 15 seconds of fame. 

Until finally it was the countdown. He’d grown more shy and unsure as the countdown drew closer to zero, and she wondered if he was nervous about the idea of the ‘new years kiss’ tradition. If perhaps he didn’t want to kiss her, or want her to kiss him. She wouldn’t press him, of course... but there was another possibility; that he wanted to kiss her, but wasn’t sure enough to make the move. She’d had the hint that he may like her a couple times when they spent time together, and as the countdown fell to zero, she tapped his shoulder to draw him down to her level, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. “Happy New Years, Sebastian.” She whispered.