I've decided to make this a multi-shot since it's becoming so long. On top of that, I wanted to get a little something posted in light of the holidays. :) I can't say for sure when the next part is going to be up but keep on the look out!

Enjoy! Happy Holidays!

"There's nothing to say about the way that I feel
It's hard to conceal when it's in my eyes…"

-Immune by Melanie C

Part two.

As you pull the glass door open, a gush of warm air hits you, shocking your body, and then comes the unmistakable scent of cinnamon. You briefly think that you need to remember to ask for one of those and then you start the short walk to the back of the café, to the same booth you always sit in.

Your eyes are downcast, your hands shoved into the front pocket of your hoodie as always. You have a routine now. Avoid eye contact, sit down, order coffee (just one cup- always one cup) black, sip absentmindedly, and avoid going home. When you go home you cry, and crying, you've decided is not an option anymore. You wish you could be apathetic to everything.

Exactly twelve steps to the back of the establishment and you're at the booth. You slide in and scoot toward the middle, only to be met with body heat and a broad, strong shoulder. For the first time you look up to see that the booth is already occupied.

"Oh, I'm so-," the man starts but stops once he sees your face. His eyes connect with yours and he pales, "Sam?" He moves, subconsciously, away from you.

"Freddie," You make no move to leave, although you should've. He's the reason you come here in the first place, in a feeble attempt to avoid the memory of him- he's everywhere in that apartment; his memory lingers lightly over the café, however.

"I'm sorry, I was just…leaving," You glance at the cup sitting in front of him- his usual pumpkin spice, and you notice the steam rolling off of the top. You know that he'd arrived only a short time ago. He was lying.

You blink hard, raw emotion bubbling up in your throat. You shove the lump back down, "That's cool. I'll just leave." You slide out of the booth, the same direction you came and shrug your coat properly onto your shoulders again.

"Sam, wait." He hooks his fingers into the pocket of your jacket and tugs, his eyes pleading up at you. "Stay. I want to talk with you."

"And say what, Freddie?" You eye him wearily, trying to judge if you can talk to him without losing your cool. As your eyes drift down his face, bringing a storm of memories back, and you know that you can't handle this. "I don't think we have anything to say to each other," You tell him softly, pitifully, and you turn to leave.

"Sam," his voice shakes a little, causing you to turn back around, "I never stopped loving you."

You inhale sharply through your teeth, causing your teeth to ache from the sudden cold air. You meet his eyes- you'd like to say it was on accident, but it wasn't- and blink hard, "Shut up. You have no idea what you're talking about, just shut up."

He frowns at you, slight confusion masking his features and then complete understanding washes over his face, "You and your damn pride. That's the only reason you're- we're- still unhappy, Sam," he spat, his anger rising slightly, "I just want you to know that. You're mostly to blame. You have always dug your own holes. You're always the one who makes yourself unhappy." With that he sighs and stands. He pauses, staring at your lips.

You subconsciously lick them, remembering the taste of him. For a second you think he's going to kiss you, but then he simply presses his lips into a thin line, shakes his head and leaves- he leaves you all alone once more.

"I knew that I'd get like this again
that's why I try to keep at bay
be a hundred percent when i'm with you and then
a perfect hearts length away..."

-Half-Life by Imogen Heap

On Christmas day, you begrudgingly make your way to Carly's apartment, a few gifts in hand. You tug your jacket tighter to your body and exhale deeply, watching as your breath turns white and swirls up into the sky. It's a frigid day, but for once there is no precipitation in sight and the sun is trying to poke through the clouds that were streaked across the blue sky.

When you reach the familiar apartment complex, you take the steps without hesitation and enter the lobby, a rush of warm air hitting you, making your skin thaw and causing a warm feeling to bubble up in your stomach. Despite how hard the past few months had been, there was no denying that Christmas was and always would be your favorite holiday. After all, why wouldn't it be? You get free gifts and food all day long- you were only hoping for one present this year, however, and that was [FreddieFreddieFreddie]. You sigh at the thought of him- you hadn't yet mastered going a day without thinking about him.

Before you notice, the elevator reached the eighth floor and you step off as you rearrange the stack of gifts in your arms. As soon as your foot lands outside of the metal confines of the elevator, something slams you to the floor. You feel your anger rising and look up to see the one person who you wish it wasn't- the one person you wanted the most. [Freddieoh,Freddie].

"We keep running into one another like this, Sam," he pulls you up gently, his eyes staring at your face, but not meeting your eyes. You begin to pick up the presents and try to think of a way to part from him without it turning into an argument.

"Heading up to Carly's?" You can feel his eyes still on you and your neck burns with the intensity of his gaze.

You nod, still scrambling to collect your colorfully wrapped gifts and piling them back into your arms. "Yeah, I'm late too, so…" You trail off, standing back up and rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

"Me and Mom were invited too. We can walk up together?" It comes out as a question and he reaches his hand out. You take a half step backward, not wanting him to touch you. "Can I help you carry something?" After a short pause, you hand him the stack of presents and shift your bag on your shoulder.

"This doesn't mean anything. All it means is that my arms are hurting and I know that you're strong enough to handle it." [lielielie. ].

He arches his eyebrow at you and you are hit with a flood of emotion (as usual). It feels just like months ago when he was still yours and you were still his. Last Christmas you were snuggled in his arms, sipping hot cocoa and watching old movies. This Christmas was obviously vastly different. This year you would be going home to an empty apartment and he would be going back to his mother's. It didn't feel right. [dosomethingaboutit,Sam].

"I know, Sam," he smiles softly at you and begins walking down the hallway to your friend's apartment.

"Were you leaving when we ran into each other?"

"No, I was going to the lobby to wait for Mom to come back," his eyes shift to the side. You narrow your eyes a little and wonder why he thought he could lie to you. Just because you were broken up and far apart from one another didn't mean that you had forgotten years of learning how to read him.

You decide to let him slide with this lie. You're getting along for once (maybe it's just for the sake of the holiday) and you don't want to ruin it by calling him out on something that probably has no significance.

When you walk into Carly's apartment, however, it's painfully obvious that he lied to you. His mother is sitting on the couch, legs crossed, prim and proper as usual. But she most certainly isn't outside of the apartment building and he most certainly wasn't headed to the lobby to wait for her to return from her mystery destination.

"Freddie," his eyes snap up and a slow blush rises to his cheeks, "Can I talk to you?" From the corner of your eye you can see Carly's eyebrows dart up under her bangs.

You watch the hesitation pass over his features before he nods and slowly steps out into the hallway, the large wooden door swinging shut behind him. You cross your arms over your chest and stare at him hard.

"Why did you lie to me?" You ask, eyes searching (forever searching since he left). He rubs his forearm with his hand and sinks his teeth into his lower lip.

"I can't talk to you like this anymore, Sam."

Your eyebrows furrow, "What do you mean?"

"I was going to wait for you, okay? I was hoping I would see you today." Your face transforms into one of pure shock and you step back a few steps.

"Oh."

"Let's just forget it… and have a nice Christmas, okay?" With that he smiles a little at you and opens the door to allow you to walk back into the apartment (and damn if he didn't leave you alone again. you were beginning to hate the repetitiveness).

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